Sittin’ on Top of the World

SITTIN ON TOP OF THE WORLD

This has been sitting around for some time, waiting for an ending. I have a couple more like that. But this one is ready. The song was written by Walter Vinson and Lonnie Chatmon, of the Mississippi Sheiks. Country Blues.

Now she's gone, but I don't worry,

I'm sittin' on top of the world....

The note read:

"Joey, I'm leaving for a time. I don't know how long. It's nothing you did. I just met someone. Please don't try to find me, or be in contact. I need to do this.               Love, Shelly"

It was a total and complete shock to me. My wife of twenty-one years, gone... just like that. Poof.

I'm Joe Mason. My wife is Michelle (Shelly). We have known each other since grade school, because our parents worked together. But we didn't start dating until junior year at college. Before that, we went to different public schools. But in college, we hit it off. Senior year we moved in together. After graduation we had a summer wedding.

Shelly is a pert, vivacious blonde, medium height and build, with blue eyes. I'm also medium height and build, with brown hair and eyes. I work at my own general law practice. Shelly works for a local hospital as a nurse supervisor. We're both forty-two. Both of us are fit from going to the gym, hiking and volleyball. At the gym she does aerobic dancing. I take self defense lessons and hit the heavy bag. That can be quite a good aerobic workout, and it builds strength.

We have two children, both at college. James is nineteen, and Susan is eighteen, and a freshman. When I got the note, on a sunny April day, I immediately called them. James first. I read him the note. He said that he was shocked. I told him that I'd keep him informed. Susan was less surprised by the note, although she said she didn't know her mother was going to leave like that.

"Well, what did you know, Susan? I'm curious, as you may imagine. Who's the someone she met?"

"Dad, I'm not sure about anything. I just noticed her at lunch with a guy from her work. The second time, I asked her about it. She said he was a work buddy. His name is William Connor."

"But did you suspect something?"

"I was a little uneasy with her explanation, because she seemed a little uneasy. This was just as I had finished spring break. I just let it slip. I should have told you. I'm sorry. God, she left you."

"Not your fault. Don't worry about it. I'll cope."

After those calls, I did some research on the net, about Connor. He is a doctor. Up until this last week, he had been on staff at her hospital. Now, it seemed, he had moved on. According to the bio, he was forty, divorced, and was a cardiologist. But he had worked as an administrator at the hospital for the last two years. A check on his reputation as a doctor yielded the info that he had a mishap in an operation three years before, and a patient died. His photo showed a blonde haired, tall, stocky guy.

I fished around for his current work or address, but got nothing. I called a friend of mine who was much more into computer research, and asked him to find Shelly and/or Connor. Bill James told me he'd get right on it, and call if he found anything.

I checked our accounts. Shelly had not touched the checking account, but her automatic deposit had not been done this month. She had taken almost all of the savings, over two hundred thousand dollars. It was in a Vanguard account. I called Bill back and asked him to trace that, gave him the account number, and other info. I called Vanguard about the withdrawal, which was listed as 'in process.' The rep said he'd get back to me.

Our house was jointly owned, and was worth about eight hundred thousand. Maybe she had some sort of set off in mind. Or maybe she was just a thief as well as an adulteress.

I drove over to her parents' house, about thirty miles away. It was a Wednesday, but both cars were parked in front. Mark and Sally Benton had worked at GMG Enterprises with my parents for many years. They sometimes socialized, although more when I was young than lately. I had no difficulties with either, and believed that they had done a good job raising their daughter -- until today, that is. I knew Shelly was close with her mom. I walked up to the front and knocked.

Mark answered. He wasn't surprised to see me. He just stepped aside and ushered me into the kitchen at the rear, where Sally was seated at the table with a glass of water.

"HI, Sally. What do you know that I don't?"

Mark said, "We -- mainly Sally -- knew that Shelly was on a dangerous path. We thought of it as such. She discussed it with her mom, and we agreed not to talk about it with you until she had a chance to do that."

"Sally, she didn't give me any chance whatsoever. And she took all the savings. I'm possibly going to try to have her arrested for that. Unless she sends half back real soon. As you can maybe imagine, I'm unhappy with her and her fuck buddy."

"Joe, no use using that type of language." Mary was not actually angry. "She believes that he is her soulmate."

"And you? Because I think he's a thief, at least of money."

"I met him once. She brought him here about a month ago. She didn't say, then, why he was with her, just introduced him as a work colleague. We had a chat. At the end, I thought she was here to introduce him to her parents. Later I warned her, but she didn't listen, obviously."

"I assume that you know where she has gone. Where?"

"We're not supposed to talk to you about that, Joe. She's afraid you'll react badly."

"Sally, Mark, I will find her within a couple of days anyway. And, she's absolutely correct that I am reacting badly."

Just then my cell phone rang. It was Bill. He informed me that both Shelly and Connor had taken jobs at a hospital in Pittsburgh. They had rented an apartment near that hospital. Shelly and Connor had a joint checking account, with some money in it. The two hundred grand hadn't shown up, yet. Bill thought it might have gone off shore. If so, he could still find it, but it would cost. He'd let me know.

Mark and Sally watched me during the conversation. They watched as I wrote the address of the hospital, bank and apartment down in a notebook. Bill had also given me cell phone numbers for the two. I didn't write those down, just remembered them. I didn't want them to know I had those.

Sally asked, "When she comes back, and wants you back, will you take her?"

"What even makes you think she would do that? She seems to want a clean break, with no contact. Doesn't sound to me like she'll ever come back, except maybe for money."

"I think she will want to come back, Joey. But how long? I don't know."

"If she walks in right now, and apologizes, maybe we can go to counselling. The more time away, having sex with another man, living as husband and wife with him...well, you know."

"I....I don't want you guys to break up." Sally was tearing up. Mark patted her shoulder. I bade them goodbye.

I drove back to my office. Bill called again as I was walking in. He told me that Vanguard had held up the transfer of the 200k, as a precaution against possible fraud. He said they would not release the funds as of now, even though it was a joint account. The transaction seems to have had some irregularities. I told him what they said when I called. I called them back, and emphasized that the withdrawal was improper. I was told that they held it up because of several anomalies in the method used.

I had an associate in my office draw up an emergency TRO, directed at Vanguard and at Connor and Shelly. He took about an hour with it. Then I had it filed electronically. That should hold up the theft for a while. A TRO is a temporary restraining order, with an application for a permanent order usually attached.

I called my folks in Oregon, where they were retired. I let them know what was happening. They were quite surprised and sympathetic.

Then I sat back and thought about what else I could do. And, more to the point, what I wanted to do. I did a quick search and found out that in Pennsylvania adultery was not a crime. But in Virginia, it was a misdemeanor. I just let that sit in my head.

I decided to do what I often did with difficult problems, call my mentor, Uncle Jed. Jed was my mother's older brother, and lived near us in DC. He had been a lawyer, but retired a few years before. What he really was -- a lobbyist. To me, though, he was a source of guidance, not so much in the law as in life its own self.

I asked him if I could do a visit. We arranged dinner. I would stop for a fancy pizza and beer, and bring it to his house.

While I waited, I called a PI that I knew. I had him look into how long Shelly had been intimate with Connor. Maybe it had been going on for a while. Who knew? I tried to think about whether I had noticed anything about Shelly recently that should have tipped me off. I had just completed a long and arduous trial, that lasted four months. We had a favorable verdict and were negotiating how much it had to come down. Maybe I hadn't paid much attention to Shelly while doing that case -- for six months or so, including prep. We still had sex. Well, we did up until maybe a month ago. Then, no. I should have noticed that. Before the hiatus, there had been no change in her responses, or in frequency, either. Busy or not, I liked sex with Shelly. It wasn't the first long trial I had done. After a few weeks, there was a rhythm, and I wasn't as distracted at home.

On the way to Jed's house, I stopped first at a clinic and got a series of tests for STD's. Then I picked up the pizza and beer.

Jed greeted me at his door, still the same one I remembered as a kid. Same house. His last 'wife' had gone south about a year ago. He had been married for forty years to a wonderful woman -- Ellen. But she caught pneumonia and died five years before. He had had a series of women since, none for too long. There was no one but him there today.

"Well, what might bring a busy attorney here to a backwater like this?"

I told him, showed him the note and let him know what I'd done.

"I see. So unlike her. I want you to sit here for a while, just think about your life with her, what it has been like. I'll get something to drink. Be back in a bit."

I did what he asked. I thought about all the good things we had had together. We laughed, raised kids, screwed, socialized. All as a couple. I found that I was silently crying as I got into this. She was THE person in my life for over twenty years. Sure, we had kids, but she was, for me, the one person I loved and trusted the most. My tears were flowing as I reviewed our lives -- no, our life - together. Now gone. Poof! How could she have done this to me? I ended by bawling into my sleeve.

Jed came back with two shot glasses and some whisky. He just let me cry. He poured. I looked up at him when he tossed down his shot. I did the same. Good stuff. It distracted me.

I looked up at him. "You're so fucking smart. Thanks."

"You want her back?"

"I....I want my old life back, but that doesn't seem possible. I don't know if I want her back. She might do it again -- if I even survive this time."

"What I think, is that you need time to process. Maybe you need help to do that. I just did an obvious thing. Let you get out the pain, some of it. But you need more help than I can do. Anyway, I don't have a good track record since Ellen."

"Well, you get laid."

"Yep. Not enough when you've had the whole deal."

Then we had a two hour conversation reminiscing about what our marriages had been. Back and forth we went. He had tears as well. But Ellen was never coming back. Shelly? Hard to say. I was starting to come to the realization that I maybe couldn't......ever...stand to be with her again. As we ended the marathon session, I was seized with a feeling of righteous anger so intense that I thought I might collapse.

I got up and staggered outside. I started whacking and kicking an old heavy bag that he had hanging from a tree in his back yard. I was in a frenzy of anger more intense than I ever felt before. All directed at Shelly. It was her face I punched, her body I kicked. The bitch! The total, unfeeling, evil bitch!!!

Jed watched from the porch. Later he told me that he almost dialed 911. Finally, just before he was going to make the call, the bag fell off the tree, and one of my kicks sent it flying across the neighbor's fence. I fell to the ground, weeping.

Jed helped me into the house, calmed me down as much as he could. I was spent, anyway. A wet noodle. I was in good shape, but I had far exceeded my capacity. In time - don't know how long -- he put me on the couch and covered me with a caftan. I slept through the night.

In the morning, I awoke to the smell of bacon. Coffee. I rolled off the couch, stood up, shakily. But I got my bearings, and I was hungry as hell.

We ate bacon, eggs, and toast. After that, I headed to the shower. I cast aside the clothes I had worn, and donned a sweat suit lent to me by Jed. I shaved, shampooed, and generally reconstituted myself. My hands were red and raw. I put antiseptic on them and wrapped them. Shelly had been a nurse, and she had taught me what to do. I was sore all over my body. I had a cut above my right eye. I used a butterfly band aid. I looked as if I had been in a violent fight. And lost.

It was about twenty-four hours since I read the note.

Jed wrote down the name of a marriage counselor that he had used. Mary Stevens. He said that he believed she could help me get my head on straight. He said marriage counselling didn't have to involve both parties. I took the card.

I drove home, dressed for work, and went in. The staff noticed my scuffed appearance. Eyebrows were raised. I called a whole team meeting. We had twelve employees, including four lawyers apart from me. I explained what had happened, and told them that I would not likely be into work as much until I got this matter settled. We made arrangements for replacement counsel for some of my appearances.

I sat in my office, and, wonder of wonders, got some work done. I ate lunch in the office, and worked hard all afternoon.

At 5:30 pm I left and went home. Shelly had taken some clothing and other things. But the bulk of her personal possessions were still here. I went to Lowes and bought boxes and tape. I systematically packed all of her things into those boxes. Clothes, books, photo albums, shoes -- as much as I could do. I put it all in the garage. Shelly's car wasn't there so there was room. I called Bill and told him Shelly had her car.

Then I went around and removed all photos of Shelly from any place on the house. I tossed them all into a trash bag. Frames and all.

I sat and considered the state of affairs. I did a microwave meal and went to bed. But, just as I was about to sleep, I thought to interrogate our home computer, and her cell phone, which was in its charging cradle.

The computer had her emails, which led me nowhere. Her phone had calls to a 540 area code starting about six weeks before. There were also some texts, to and from Connor -- aka Bill, then Billy. The texts set up lunch dates, and meetings before work. Nothing completely incriminating.

I went to sleep.

Friday I went into work again. It had worked for me the day before. It worked now, too.

After lunch the PI called. He said that he'd positioned himself at a lunch place where women from Shelly's department ate often. He just listened. Not surprisingly, the disappearance of the boss and hunk doctor was a big topic of discussion. The two of them had been objects of intense speculation before the vanishing act. One woman had seen them coming out of a motel on an afternoon. Another had seen them kissing outside a restaurant nearby. All in all, the staff had been convinced that they were lovers.

The PI had obtained room rental paperwork from the motel. There had been three afternoon rentals in the weeks leading up to Shelly's departure. She had paid for them. Cash. There were copies of receipts. There were license plate numbers. Two hers, one not hers.

I decided that this merited a look at Connor's finances. Why hadn't he paid part? So, I called Bill again. It took him about two hours to determine that Connor had run into some severe financial difficulties about ten months prior to their move. He owed on his mortgage, on his car note, and on credit cards. His hospital salary had a garnish on it from his divorce. He was behind on his child support.

It occurred to me that the whole thing might have been about money, on his part. Two hundred thousand, to be exact. That made me feel bad for Shelly. For about ten seconds. Then I punched a nearby office chair, knocking it down and across the office. My aide poked her head in to see what the noise had been. I apologized to her.

I called and made an appointment with the marriage counselor. Then I walked down the hall to the office of a family law firm, asked to see Mildred Hoover. Mildred was the best divorce lawyer in the area. It turned out she could see me, and she ushered me into her office. I explained the entire thing to her. I had found out that the TRO was set for the next Monday, and that Shelly had been served at work in Pittsburgh. I didn't need Mildred for that. My firm could do it. I asked her about what could happen in a divorce.

She took some financial data, and spent a time on her computer.

"Looks like she might not make out all that well. Your law practice is off limits, because of the pre-nup. She would get half the value of the house, and half of assets accumulated during the marriage, which, I assume, is most of the assets. She'll have enough, though, to be comfortable."

"Let me think about this. We'll see what happens at the TRO hearing. But draw up the papers. Adultery and whatever else"

That evening I had a microwave pizza, and did a long run. At about 9:30, I called Susan. She picked up just as it was about to go to voicemail.

"Hey, Dad. How are you doing?"

"Okay. Just wondered if you'd heard from your mom."

"Well, I did.....but I promised....shit. She said you were trying to get her and Connor into trouble. She had to be in court, or have a lawyer for her there, on Monday. She was upset. What's going on, Dad?"

"Lots of money. Someone tried to take it from our joint investment account. I filed to stop that, so we could sort it out. My impression is that maybe your mom didn't know about it. Don't know, though."

"Okay. Is she safe with that guy? She seemed worried."

"I have no idea if she's safe. It's on her, really. She can walk away if she feels threatened. Why did you ask that?"

"There was some shouting in the background. A man. I couldn't hear what he said, but it sounded angry. Mom said it was nothing."

"I hope so. Nothing to do about it from here."

We talked about her school, and a new friend she had. Then we hung up.

I spent a restless weekend. Monday was a big day. We had the TRO in the morning, and I had the counselling appointment in the afternoon. I talked to James, who had not heard from his mother at all. I went to the gym. There, I saw Shelly's good friend Clara Barton. Another nurse. (I'm sure she had long since become inured to comments.) Clara saw me and tried to duck out the back door. I headed her off before she could do that.

"I don't want to talk, Joe. It wouldn't do any good, anyway."

"You knew she was fucking up, Clara. Why didn't you let me know?"

"She said you'd not react well. Might get violent. I'm more her friend. I don't know you well enough to tell if she was lying."

"Well, what about this guy? Connor? Is he bad news? Because I get that impression."

"Yes. He is very bad news. I told her that. But she was.......I'm sorry...she was getting sex that she liked. She thought she was in love, and he was her soulmate."