Just a little flash story for the Valentines 2020 event.
Some emailers have told me that I've recently written the worst story ever (Giving) and the best story ever (Bringing). Neither claim is true, but thanks for letting me know how loved and hated I've become. I'm returning to tropes and clichés for this one. Some have suggested that I need professional help. Thanks for your concern. Trust me, I'm getting some as I'm keeping so many -ists in business it makes my head spin. Oh yeah as far as heads spinning, I'm seeing an -ist about those absence seizures too. Nothing like losing a few minutes of recent memories every once in a while.
Please read my profile for my stance on comments. Feel free to email suggestions or to start a conversation. Private messages work too.
Gary Grainger; Rod Stewart: "I could never win. Never found a compromise. Collected lovers like butterflies. Illusions of that grand first prize are slowly wearin' thin."
+ + + +
Dumb. Slow. Stupid. The list goes on and on. I guess when you believe in something, you ignore the little things. Amy and I had been married for damn near ten years when I found her with suitcases waiting by the front door.
'Honey, we need to talk.'
No, she didn't say that, but you get the picture. She was two sheets to the breeze with that third one half drained in her favorite wine glass.
"Going somewhere?"
"Yes. I'm leaving you. That envelope over there contains the Petition for Divorce. I don't love you anymore so there's no reason for us to continue this charade."
"Trading up?"
"Does it matter?"
Told me all I needed to know. Little miss churchgoer was a slut. I did a one eighty and fed myself at Dennys. Her car and suitcases were gone when I got back. It was my turn to tip a few. One would be too many and ten wouldn't be enough. My body ached ears to toes when I awoke in my living room recliner. That thing isn't meant to be slept in.
I've always been shy. As such I seem to end up one step ahead or behind. It was Amy who pursued me. We were both twenty two when we got married. Things went great for the first eight years. Over the last two, things became strained. I was never going to turn into that man that she now wanted. Leaving really didn't surprise me, once I connected the dots. That doesn't mean that my heart hasn't been ripped from my chest. It has. But, life goes on. If she doesn't want me, then I'll move on. It will take a while but I'll bounce back and be a stronger man for it.
The easiest way to avoid gossip at work was to skip all of the spouses welcome events. I turned down invitations for some couples get-togethers that Amy and I used to attend.
My attorney was a no-nonsense grandmother type. She was mostly barking orders for the things I needed to do and not do. At this point, I liked it that way. The last thing I wanted was to dwell on the bitch. Just get me the hell out of this relationship.
When Amy showed up to a court ordered counseling session, on the arm of some slicked back hair dude, my hatred for her multiplied. Nobody wants to be cast aside. What a waste of time and money these shrink sessions are.
My attorney tells me that once the counseling sessions are over, it will still be six weeks or so before the final decree comes down. I'm keeping busy doing the things around the house that Amy never would agree to. I had to cede some liquid assets to retain the house, but I'd put too much into making it the home that I wanted, to let it go.
The women in my life amounted to my grandmotherly attorney. I avoided contact with the opposite sex, when and if at all possible.
+ + + +
I don't normally play the lottery, but the woman behind the counter was too damn cute to just walk away from. After paying for my coffee and donut, I got back in line. She's a looker and a flirt, and is well aware of both. When I reached the front of the line, she greeted me again.
"Couldn't get enough of me?"
"Can anybody?"
"Not yet. What can I do to you this time?"
"Ten dollar quick pick for the MegaBucks lottery."
"Remember me when you win."
"Hell, I'll remember you even if I lose."
"Awww, aren't you a sweet talker."
Did I mention how cute and flirty she is. Bristol was the name on her tag. Wonder what her story is?
Work wasn't work. I really enjoy my job. My lunchtime is spent watching the children play at the elementary school across the street from the company parking lot. Such joy. Such energy. I've been watching them long enough to remember some of them. There's a pixie of a girl who can run faster than anyone, boy or girl. There's a pudgy young boy who just sits alone in the swing, the whole time. I wonder if his parents are the root of that problem. There's three girls who go off to the far corner. My favorite is the boy that does cartwheels until the bell rings.
I was watching the news after the football game on Sunday.
'We know that the winning ticket was sold at the Kum-And-Go in Thornton, but that winner has yet to come forward.'
That's the place I bought my ticket! I hope that little cutie sold it because I'm pretty sure they get a bonus. Did I toss my ticket away with the empty coffee cup? Shit, I don't remember. I'll dig through the trash in my truck in the morning.
It was actually Thursday morning before I remembered the lottery ticket. Thankfully, or unfortunately, I hadn't pitched it. Where do you go to find the winning numbers? There was a phone number and a website printed on the ticket. I called and jotted down last Saturday's winning numbers. After hanging up, I compared them to my ticket, then called the number back again. Sure as hell, I wrote them down right, and I'm the lone winner!
My head wasn't screwed on straight that day. If not for a little luck, I would have injured myself and a coworker.
'Take that bitch!' rolled around in my head. She can have her trade-up. I'm a big time winner.
Just to be safe, I contacted my divorce attorney and set up a meeting. Another couple hundred bucks down the drain. This time not.
"Sorry Derek. You're not divorced yet. Amy gets half."
"But she already filed for divorce. I bought it after she had me served. It was my money that I bought it with!"
"Tough shit. Until the court grants the divorce, she's entitled to half of it."
No fucking way am I going to share it with her.
"What if I gave it to my parents?"
"If she learns that you bought the ticket, anything other than an arm's length transaction gives her the right to go after you for half of it."
"What's an arm's length transaction?"
"Someone other than a relative or business associate, with no claw back claim."
"What's a claw back claim?"
"They have to give you something in return, after the fact."
"So the only way she doesn't get half of it is if I give it to a stranger or don't cash it at all?"
"Pretty much. Go home, think about it. Congratulations Derek."
"Yeah, thanks."
Well shit on me. How much do I hate her? Enough to screw myself out of big bucks?
I 'hid' the winning ticket in my freezer, under last summer's trout. Twas another night of drinking. When dawn's early light roused me from my drunken slumber, I called in sick. I have so many sick days coming that they were more shocked that I would finally use one.
When I reached the front of the line, with my coffee and donut, Bristol didn't recognize me.
"Bristol, would you have five minutes to meet with me after you get off of work today?"
After ten seconds of evil eyeing me "Sure. I get off at two. I'll meet you by my beat up Toyota over there."
