This is a four part story. Tom is a character that began as a stand -alone story and as it proceeded I wanted to bring it into the SF Bay Area environs and characters from the later chapters of "The Epiphanous Spouses". This is not a story of great wrongs and retribution. There is no bitch burning and from my perspective there is no judgement of right or wrong. These are people who might do what others would not or not do what others might rush into.
There were no real people harmed in the writing of this story and it is not a collection of my experiences in any way except in understanding the emotions involved. I am going to leave anonymous commenting open for now but will probably delete those comments that are not constructive and adding to any fruitful discussion.
Part 1
There was a time not that long ago when I used to enjoy pulling into the driveway after a day at the office. I would be met with the smells of a busy kitchen and if they were not out with the neighbor's kids, a couple of beautiful children might greet me somewhere in the house. I would see her working on one of her culinary creations or setting the dinnerware or bustling about the household somewhere. There was always the dutiful and sincere kiss, a greeting and a welcoming embrace. It was the middle class American portrait, something Norman Rockwell put to canvas a hundred times.
It took some time to get there. Our early years were lean and at times hard. The children were little with large demands yet somehow we got by and never really suffered. Our needs were met even though the wants were often times pushed out until they too eventually became needs. With patience and hard work, we began building the dream. There were two cars, a larger house and the niceties we wanted around the home when we could afford them. Our parents grew up in the Great Depression years and instilled a sense of frugality in each of us. Over the passing of time and into middle age, that ingrained responsibility reaped rewards for the Davis household.
By our early middle forties, Helen and I were firmly in the upper middle class lifestyle. Our kids, Jason and Ann, had graduated high school and were both off at University studying for their respective careers, Engineering for my son and Marketing for my daughter. They had the same drive that Helen and I had when we were young. They know what they want and how to get it.
It was when they left that the changes began. The dinners would sometimes become a quick eat or a request to stop at the deli and bring something home. While the house would still look the same, it felt empty, beyond the absence of children. It was missing a wife and partner as well. We used to go out on our date nights every week without the kids. Those disappeared as well or dropped down to once a month if that.
Helen started working with a volunteer group at the community center with a couple of her friends from the neighborhood. I didn't see her much during the week when that started. They were not friends I felt comfortable with but they were her friends and not mine. It began to feel as if we were living two separate lives.
Now, when I turned into the drive there was a sense of loss. I remember pulling out my driver's license and looking at Tom Davis, age 46 and I saw a tired man looking back at me. Now, that doesn't mean I'm physically tired. I'm a gym rat and have been since college. I'm thinking of an emotional exhaustion from 25 years of marriage that until four years ago seemed ideal. Our sex life had been active and fulfilling or so I thought. Now, that too became a once a month event. That is probably the one thing that really angers me about all of this more than any other. I've always been adventurous in that regard and Helen was always receptive. Yet, as soon as the kids were out of the house, there was an almost 180 degree change. So, I'm emotionally exhausted and physically charged and it is quite the dilemma.
I turned the key in the lock and entered. It still looked the same yet different. There were no kitchen smells. I glanced at the mantle and noticed a couple pictures were missing along with a gold box she kept several little personal treasures in. Walking up the stairs and into the bedroom, her closet was open and mostly empty while her dresser stood bare, nothing left in the drawers. On the side table on her side of the bed was a folded letter and sitting on top of it was her engagement ring.
I gave her that ring 25 years earlier. It had belonged to my grandmother. My grandfather had given it to her 55 years before that. As I picked it up I remembered the day I placed it on her finger. We were so young and carefree with the whole world at our fingertips and in our imaginations. After slipping it into my jacket pocket, I picked the letter up and unfolded it.
"Dear Tom,
I didn't know how to do this any other way without having to hide my face in shame so I chose this coward's way of dealing with what I have to do. After a long time considering it, I decided today that I need to move on in my life without you. Tom, I know this is a hard thing to have happen in our lives but we've become different people over the last few years and I can't do it anymore.
Tom, please believe me when I tell you that none of it, absolutely none of it was any of your doing. It simply happened. I found myself falling in love with another man and I can't live this lie any longer. I know you were going to find out sooner or later so I am telling you now. The kids don't know yet but I'm going to tell them. Please believe me, Tom, that when I do tell them, they will hate me because I'm not going to lie to them.
I felt awful for the longest time living this lie and I can't do it anymore. If there is any consolation, I am not taking much. I took one half of the savings, some of the photo albums and I will have copies made of everything so that you can have them too. I am not taking anything else financially. The house, the investments, everything except the one half of the savings account will remain yours. I have taken everything I wanted already and I will not be back.
Tom, this is important too. I know you will grieve because of this just as I did when I made my decision. Eventually, the kids will know where I am. It's only natural. If the pain of what I am doing to you ever subsides and I pray it will, I hope that someday I can sit down with you face to face and tell you how sorry I am for what I have done to you. I can't look you in the eye today because of my betrayal. I hope you will someday understand that.
Until I can face you again, know that I will always love you, Tom Davis.
Helen"
I'd like to think I went through all the emotions I could muster but the plain truth was I was just drained from it. I sat there and wept for about 15 minutes before rising up and walking into the kitchen. I reached up into the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of 20 year old rum and poured two shots into a tumbler before filling it with Coke. When it was gone, I did it twice more.
I'm not a heavy drinker. I stick pretty much to Rum and Coke and the occasional beer and wine. Becoming a sorrowful drunk was not in the cards. She left me on a Friday so I had the whole weekend to contemplate what she had done. By Sunday evening, the half-gallon of rum was empty and I had planned my course of action.
Monday morning, before I could leave the house, I was served papers by some young woman who looked like she couldn't have been a day over 18. Just as Helen had written, she left everything to me except her share of savings. She had walked away from a fortune she never knew about. I remember thinking what a foolish woman she had allowed herself to become. You see, the last few years of slow decay in our marriage had already prepared me for the loneliness. She thought I was going to grieve and miss her. I did for 15 minutes on Friday evening.
After calling the office and letting them know I would be in later in the morning, I called my personal attorney to let him know about the divorce and he agreed to meet for coffee. It helps when your attorney is also your brother.
