I guess I should have seen.... Well okay, I did see the signs but in my arrogance and delusion I never thought that Catherine, my beautiful wife of twelve years would seek the companionship of another guy. I mean. Seriously? I only go with the guys for a drink after work and normally get home in time for dinner. Of course, once in a while it gets a little rowdy because of some happening somewhere. You know. There was a thunderstorm on the Falkland islands that needed a toast. Somebody had a baby. Somewhere. Simple things that kind of led to a late night out.
I drank sparingly so I normally got home still reasonably sober. Well, most nights. There were a few that got out of hand but I never came home staggeringly drunk. Well, not often.
We still made beautiful love on the odd chance that I was home early but come to think of it, lately it came about because of me initiating it. It has been a while since Catherine started the thing. Another sign that I missed. Well okay. I ignored it.
But seriously. What is her problem? We saved up an attractive amount of money and made a substantial down payment on a very comfortable house in a good neighbourhood. I said 'we'? Come to think of it, yes, we saved up. She still drives the little runabout she had when we met. Nothing wrong with it. It runs like a charm so why change it? I bought a medium sized SUV a while ago but that was a necessity. My second car since we met was getting a little out of fashion so an upgrade was called for. Nothing wrong with the old one though. I sometimes see it around town, driven by a guy about my age and he looks quite happy with it.
Come to think of it. I think I missed a number of those silly things women regard as important. Like her birthday for instance. I didn't forget it. I remembered it in the pub and we had a good number of toasts to a wonderful lady. She was a little peeved when I staggered into the house and explained my condition to her, laughingly blaming her birthday for the mishap.
On our last anniversary I played golf all day and then went to watch some concert in a park with the boys. I enjoyed the music and the copious glasses of beer. She could have gone to the movies with her friends. Why wait up for me just to show me her puffed out cheeks. Seriously?
And yet, there I stood, looking at her sharing a table with Alex. Alex was a great guy and we used to move in the same circle of friends. Loved his wife completely and doted on her. Never went anywhere without her, except to work. Four years ago a drunk ran a red light and turned him into a widower.
As loving men do, he kind of derailed. He lost his job due to an expensive mistake because he didn't concentrate. His turning point came about when he lost his house and had to move into a drab low income housing scheme. Thanks to a shining career before the tragedy he found employment again and through diligence and hard work, he went through a number of promotions. Last I heard he was being groomed for yet another promotion.
Silently the good guy in me wished him luck in his job. The bad guy wished him paralysed fingers and a load of camel fleas in his balls.
There is a whole world out there. Why woo my Catherine? Yes, she is rather pretty. Well, okay. She is strikingly beautiful and blessed with something close to the perfect body. In my mind anyway.
Strangely it was not her beauty that grabbed my complete attention one evening in a library. Her voice did. I heard her speak softly to a friend and I was a goner. I went around the bookshelf and stood there listening to her talking. Her friend noticed me and nudged Catherine to be quiet. Where I got the brazen guts to do it I never will know but I stepped forward and after introducing myself, I asked her to continue speaking. I just wanted to listen. Of course they thought I was a weirdo and left, leaving me to stand there and kick myself for being a fool.
After that I spent every day in the library and then at last, one day she came walking in. As our eyes met I playfully covered my eyes and mouth with my hands and chuckled. She stopped and greeted me. My mind went blank but eventually got itself in gear again and I shrugged with a lopsided grin.
"Sorry about that incident Miss. It must have sounded creepy."
"It did."
I nodded and stood there looking at my feet wondering why it was rather easy telling a woman that she is pretty but telling her that she has a beautiful voice borders on a sexual harassment felony.
For weeks I still spent every free moment in the library and made a point of having something interesting to share with her every time we met. In time her visits to the library became regular and we started dating a few weeks later. Our relationship simply accelerated because we both knew. We were life partners so we got married before the year was out. For years it was bliss and then it fizzled out.
It fizzled out to the point where I now stood looking at my wife with another guy at a table in a very cosy and romantic restaurant. I knew they had long ago done the Deed. It was obvious in the comfortable way they looked at each other and confirmation of it was simple. For weeks now I had tried to get Catherine fired up but I may as well have tried to melt snow in a freezer.
As she reached over and softly caressed the side of his face, I turned and walked away. It hurt. It hurt a lot. In fact it hurt so much that I almost sobbed with the pain of it.
As I walked I came up to her little runabout again, parked neatly in the street with no real attempt at hiding. I felt shame fold over me. The little car's paint was dull. I used to clean it every weekend and lovingly polished it to a lustre. When did I stop doing that?
Many things are indicative of a disturbed mind. Losing your temper at an inanimate thing is right there at the top. I did the really odd thing. I leaned over and kissed the little car right there where the A pillar met the roof, feeling my heart break. Had it been smaller I would have hugged it.
I'm sure I was stared at by a multitude of people as I walked to my own car, parked quite a ways up the street. I don't think a PhD was needed to see I was an emotional wreck. Once I got to the car I sat in it for quite some time before pulling my phone from my pocket and typed a message I should have sent long ago.
"Cut me from the group guys. It has been fun but I'm done. Ciao"
I drove home slowly, listening to messages coming through but ignored it. Once the phone rang and I grabbed at it, only to see Jack's name on the display. I let it go to voicemail while I struggled to breathe properly. Why did I hope it was Catherine? And if it was, what was I to say?
Instead of driving into the garage with the SUV, I parked it outside where Catherine's little road pimple used to be left because her side of the garage was cluttered with my junk. Pride of place, right in the middle of the floor, my golf clubs, where I had left it after the last game. Expensive stuff that was supposed to bring my game into single figures. It didn't. In fact, my game crashed because the clubs did not suit me at all but they were expensive so I argued that I was at fault. I was. Not because of my game but the conviction that a good game can be bought. Yeah right.
The meal I was supposed to have had with the boys was not going to happen and even as upset as I was, an irritating hunger gnawed at me. Opening the fridge I looked at a few cans of beer and reached down for one. As I gripped it I stopped dead.
Was I hungry or was my body craving alcohol?
The test was simple. In front of me was a small bowl of potato salad, left over from some previous meal, made by Catherine maybe in the hope I would share it with her. I always was a sucker for potato salad and Catherine made the boss of them all. Finely chopped onions, lightly singed in butter to take the anger out of them, with a sprinkle of celery and just a whiff of parsley mixed with a tangy full cream mayonnaise, finely shredded boiled egg, a goodly dollop of sweetened condensed milk, a tease of smoke essence and small cubes of cheddar. Sometimes even pickles or whole mustard found their way in there. If she was wooing me, just a hint of Basil happened to slip in there by accident....
I looked at the small bowl and wondered if it would taste like a cloud. Just the thought of taking a bite was disappointing and my mind was made up.
The cans of beer went into a basket, along with a fair collection of pricey liquor. Three houses down I gave it to John Humphries, a careful drinker and connoisseur of Scotch.
"You giving up on the booze boy?" he asked with a friendly frown and I shook my head.
"Only the selfish stuff John."
He nodded and showed me to follow him into the house but I declined. "Thanks John but not tonight."
"Something griping you boy?"
I snickered and sighed. "Yes, there is but that is a story for another day. Say hi to Stella for me."
He chuckled. "I'll return the basket with some of Stella's cookies. Have coffee ready," he smiled and sauntered down the corridor leaving me standing at the front door wishing things I had no idea of.
Once I was inside the house again I went at that potato salad. It quickly brought back memories I didn't need right then but hunger and the heavenly taste drove me on so I cleaned it out. I washed the bowl and then stood around wondering what to do. Listening to music sounded like a bad idea. I knew. The first tragic love song to float from those speakers will have me in a heap of misery.
The house was clean. Catherine kept it so. The garage was a mess. My fault and selfishness.
It was late by the time I sat down on a toolbox to survey a clean garage. Those things I hoarded in there for my own pleasure went to the attic. Golf clubs some of the first. The lawnmower got a clean-up and minor service as did other tools held on site for the house.
