It all started on just a regular day. Well, maybe not regular. It was a long hard week. Shit, it was a long hard Monday followed by an even harder Tuesday. In the first place it had been raining for the last four days. At times, I didn't think the rain was ever going to stop.
When you're a kid, before the internet, you sit by the window and sang songs, like "rain, rain go away.... come again another day." One of my other favorite things to do was to watch drops of water race down the glass, to see if I could guess which one would beat all the other rain drops to the bottom of the window.
But I was a grown man now, with responsibilities. My wife and I had moved into the infamous "Starter Home." The one we were beginning to think of, as going to be the last house we would ever be able to afford. Nina, my wife, found out about two years into our marriage she wouldn't be able to have children. That added a lot of pain and pressure into a young relationship. But being the guy I was, I was there for her. I thought .... No, that's wrong! I knew, she was the woman I wanted in my life at the end...Changing my diaper and cleaning my dirty ass when I wasn't able to do it myself.
You know how it is.... You walk into a room or turn a corner, and there she is. The world sings, and your heart is pounding so hard you fear for your life. Maybe it didn't happen for you that way, but I knew from the very beginning, Nina was the gal for me. We didn't have to put ourselves out there on a dating site. We knew. Done and done!
It's at this point, you begin to start adding little wrinkles into the blinding bliss of not having to worry about a date on Friday night. Somehow you find out the beer money you had burning a hole in your pocket isn't there anymore. The old buggy running out of gas is not just a lie you have to tell when you're out too late, but it's true now.
I hate to do this, but it must be done. My name, on my birth certificate reads James Joseph Hamilton. To my wife I'm Jimmy. To all of my friends.... I'm Bubba. I wouldn't mind it if everyone called me Jimmy-Joe or just Jim, or Jimbo. But because I was born and raised South of the Mason-Dixon line, I had a little bit of a Southern accent, (okay, a lot of an accent). So, my Marine friends in California just couldn't get away from calling me Bubba. Thank you, Forest Gump ... I'm Irish.
When my enlistment was up, I stayed in So-Cal and used all the bennies I had coming to me to get through school. I was thirty by the time the BA was in a box in my truck. But it was there, and I had earned it. I still have the scar from the shrapnel that tried to end my days.
When my school days ended, I moved to the Northern part of the state and that's where I met Nina. I went to work at a small Outdoor Supply Company, that showed the promise of not remaining small. I was wrong. After four very long and tiring years, there was no sign of anyone ever getting a raise, let alone a promotion. Oh, my "Handsome-Jack" of a boss, and his ten relatives did fine. It was the other ten or fifteen of us that did all the damn work.
Nina worked at a moving company warehouse, and if she didn't work, it was nye on impossible to get through the days and nights. When Uncle Sam is paying for the groceries, all is right with the world. When that becomes your responsibility ... it sucks.
We were never without friends. We hung out with a couple from my work, and she had another couple friends that we ran with every once in a while. In looking back, maybe we should have had fewer friends.
Anyway, it was raining it's ass off and I was not in the greatest of moods when I pulled my truck into the driveway. I noticed the bright new 150 parked at the curb in front. My wife, God bless her loving soul, had commandeered my side of the garage for her hobby/sewing/junk room, so I had to park outside, in the rain.
Like a fool, I was sitting in my truck, trying once again to put my thoughts together about my fucked up life. I was staring at the rain drops against the windshield, like I might be able to run to the house and not get wet. (Don't laugh, we've all tried it and you know it.)
As I reached for the door, I looked through the window to see my wife, sitting at the kitchen table with a man I knew from some of the outings we'd been on together. His name is Martin James (another guy blessed with two first names). He just divorced his wife, and here I am, looking through a window on the door to 'my' home, watching him smiling and laughing at whatever they were talking about.
Cursing and stomping my feet (as if my shoes were going to miraculously become dry), waiving a soaked baseball cap in the air, and shedding my jacket as quickly as I could. That's when the faces of the two compadres in my kitchen went from smiling and laughing to "what the fuck do you want," looks on their faces.
"Hey, Martin, what in the world brings you out on a day like today?" What! ... Did you think I was going to run up to him and give him a kiss?
"I just stopped by to see if Nina wanted my support." A sanctimonious smile on his face.
With doubts filling my normally empty head... "I didn't know Nina needed any support." Turning to my wife, in all seriousness, I asked. "Nina, why do you need Martin here? Do you think you're in danger?"
"No, we need to talk, and I felt I needed someone here to help in case it got out of hand."
"What do we need to talk about that you think you might need help? Do you think I would hurt you in some way? Hell, I don't even know what you want to discuss." She could see the anger building in my face and posture.
She stepped back from me and looked down at the floor. "I don't love you anymore, Jimmy." She wouldn't even look me in the eye.
I could see Martin begin to move slightly. "Martin, I think you need to leave, so Nina and I can figure this out."
"She wants me to stay."
"Well, I want you to leave, and if you don't get the hell out of my house, we'll just have to see if you can outrun my nine-mil." I reached down to my hip and placed the palm of my hand on the Nine-millimeter Glock, all snuggled up, nice and dry. "You see Martin, if you don't leave, I'll just have to shoot the both of you. Now you decide. Is your life worth a piece of ass?"
"Jimmy....Jimmy......Jimmy, please baby we can talk this out. I promise we can do this without anyone getting hurt." Nina's face was flushed with fear.
"Martin, just get the hell out. I wouldn't hurt this woman ever. Now, just put your jacket on and get the hell out."
With a nod of reassurance from Nina, Martin grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and headed out into the rain.
"So, you don't love me anymore. Is that what you're saying?"
Her voice seemed to stutter as she nodded in the affirmative.
"Do you want to get a lawyer, or would you rather I did the dirty work?"
There was a question on her face. "Do I need one?"
"I guess I better find out. I work with a couple guys that have been divorced. I can find out how they did it."
That puzzled look was still on her face.
"What the hell's wrong? I just said I'd find some help."
"Just a minute ago, you were threatening to shoot Martin, and maybe me too. What happened to change your attitude?"
"I still love you, and you know I would never do anything to harm you or anyone else. I don't even know why I have this fuckin' gun." I removed the Glock and the holster from my belt and set them on the table. "When I walked in here and you thought you had to have that horn-dog here to protect you... Well, I was so mad that you didn't trust me; let alone love me. You thought you had to have someone like, Martin to protect you.... I just wanted to shoot that fucker."
Nina had been standing and now she felt safe enough she could sit.
