Susan's Diary

And then January the first:

"Jeremy's downstairs watching football. He thinks everything's all right. He doesn't know anything. I can't go on like this. I saw Bob on the thirtieth, and he called me here at home last night while I was getting ready to go to a party with my husband. I feel like a dog with two homes. I want desperately to be with Bob. I want to spend the rest of my life with him, but I already have a home and a family. I have my children, a husband who loves me, and I have responsibilities. I can't go on. I have to do something or I'll go mad!"

I read them all. I was done. It was time, Sunday January the eighth. For the first time in months I insisted we all four go to church. The kids were furious; they both had plans. Susan seemed circumspect. I wondered, "Did she suspect anything?' We went to church and came home. I was adamant, I told them, "No one was leaving until we had a family meeting."

Samantha and Gregg were at first outraged, I was ruining their whole day. Susan never said anything. We all took our places at the dining room table.

I started, "Before I begin does anyone want anything to eat or drink, a snack maybe?"

No one moved so I started, "Later this week I'm taking some time off. I'm going to meet with a lawyer and begin divorce proceedings." I waited and waited while what I'd said slowly sank in.

Gregg was first, "Sure some joke. I get it, you're angry about something and want us to guess what it is."

I told him, "No this is not a joke. I mean it. I've decided I need to leave. I love all of you, but I need to just get away. This is not some new idea, nothing spur of the moment, I mean. I'm seeing a lawyer and filing for divorce."

Samantha started crying. Gregg got mad and ran upstairs. I didn't see any reason for making him come back so I sat and waited.

Samantha looked at me, "Daddy," she wept, "I'm sorry for anything I might have done. Please, you don't mean this." She started wheezing and coughing and whined, "This can't be happening. We're the only family I know whose always been, like, stable," she paused, "Are you sick? Have you got some disease? Is that it? You don't want to die in front of us?"

I tried to smile but couldn't, "No Samantha I'm not sick. I just want to divorce your mother. I'll move out, but I'll find a place close by so we can see each other all the time. You know I love you guys. I'd never leave you unless it was because I died."

She stopped crying, "Can I leave now?"

I nodded, and she left. Then I turned to Susan, "You understand?"

She looked indignant, "No I don't understand. I never heard of such a thing. Are you crazy?"

I could see her demeanor was just for show. The whole time the kids were reacting I could see she was already looking ahead. I wondered if maybe she was just pissed because I said I wanted a divorce before she did. I looked at her and said, "Have you ever known me to make a major decision that wasn't well thought out?"

She wanted to glare at me, but it wasn't working. I could see behind her thin veil of 'deep concern' she was thinking about how it would work out for her and her 'true love'." She sat and sat, and then asked, "So how have you worked this out, like who gets what?"

I stared her down, "I don't want much. I'll take my clothes and some of the money we've saved, just enough to find a decent apartment." I make a little more, actually a lot more money but she didn't know that, "than you do so I'll pay alimony, make the house payment, and together we'll determine a fair amount for child support as long as they're in school, including college. And last I'll expect unrestricted access to my kids."

She looked disgusted, "You got it all figured out haven't you. How long has this little play act been brewing Jeremy?"

"This is not a play act Susan," I said, "I mean it. Every word."

She stood up. I could see she was angry, "Go ahead. Get your lawyer. See if I care. I'll want to see everything your tawdry little mind can think up, then I'll get my own lawyer and we'll do it up right!"

By the end of her little soliloquy she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Out of gas and out of steam she sat back down, "When do you plan on leaving?"

"This afternoon," I said.

That got her, "Today?" I said, "The sooner the better."

Totally flummoxed she got up again, "I'm going out for a while. See if you can't be gone before I get back."

I watched as she grabbed her keys and purse, and walked out the kitchen door, slamming it as hard as she could. I thought, 'Well that went well.' I went upstairs to pack.

Upstairs I started to pack up. It was amazing, melancholy amazing, to see how easy it was. I remembered all the times we'd packed and unpacked. First there'd been the packing to move off campus, then packing to move to our first actual unsubsidized apartment near where we both found jobs, then to our first real house, an old townhouse, a fixer upper, and then last our current home, a good substantial two story in a great neighborhood, a place I believed we'd raise our kids, grow old, and maybe even live out our days together. All in all looking back it had been a good time, a good way to live, maybe a no frills life, but I believed, until just a year ago, a life filled with love.

Gregg came in as I finished up, "So you're really leaving?"

"Yeah," I said, "have to do it."

"It's mom isn't," he said.

"Pretty much," I answered.

"You want to tell me about it?"

"One day, not today. Don't give your mom a hard time. Understand? She doesn't get it yet."

"You ever going to tell her?"

I hefted my last suitcase and carried it to the hall, "I'm sure one day she'll figure it out."

"You think so?"

"No," I answered, "she might never figure it out. Only time will tell."

He grabbed my hand, "You don't have to go you know."

I answered, "Yes son, I do." With that I managed to lug three suitcases down to the bottom of the stairs. I looked back up to see Gregg standing there. He was quietly crying," I thought, 'Another tin soldier.' "Don't you give your mother a hard time, and be kind to your sister. You'll be the man of the house now."

He sat down at the top of the steps and cried his little heart out while I carried my luggage out the front door, latched it shut, and walked down the drive to my SUV. I stowed everything in the back, made one last look back, got in and drove off thinking, 'Now I'm alone, really alone.' I started crying.

As I drove down our street I saw Susan parked a few houses down. She watched me as I drove away. Was I doing the right thing? I didn't know. Seeing Susan through her windshield she looked angry and mean. I realized all the years had been a sham; she never loved me, I was just the guy, no I was the chump, who agreed to put his own life aside and give her baby a name because of some misguided sense of duty buttressed by the fantasy that she might've loved me. For almost twenty years I'd been the 'brother figure', the needed substitute, second best, the stop gap till her real fantasy lover appeared. Even knowing that I felt selfish; I had two children who loved me. Was I abandoning them? Maybe I was, but that wasn't the plan, that was never the plan. No, give Susan what she wanted, do it in the name of misguided love, and fuck the guilt.

~V~

I moved out of the house, found a small apartment not too distant from where I worked, and set up an appointment to see a lawyer. The man I selected was someone known for his fair minded behavior; that's the kind of attorney I wanted.

We sat down and, after we agreed on a tentative price, he laid things out for me. His name was Larry Freeport, and here's what he highlighted at our first meeting.

"Mr. Groff," he began, "If your wife Susan doesn't contest the divorce you could be free within ninety days. On the other hand, you must understand she has the right to decline signing anything for as long as a year. If she contests the divorce it could go on for quite a while, but thanks to recent changes in the law she can't hold things up indefinitely. Don't forget there are numerous things she could challenge; there's the division of assets, child custody, inheritances, trust finds, issues related to legal separation, and there's always other shadowy waiting periods." He tapped his fingers on his desk, "She could drag things out."

I explained, "I told her she could have the house and most of our other assets. I'd keep her and the children on my health plan. I'd pay any reasonable alimony and child support, and I'd make provision for our mortgage, car insurance, and most of the household costs such electricity."

He responded, "You'll be giving her just about everything then?"

"I'd want unlimited access to my children," I said.

He asked, "On what grounds are your suing, infidelity, cruelty, abandonment?"

"None," I said, "Except that I want to start over. I don't want to be married to her anymore. I believe she and I are simply no longer compatible."

He frowned, "If she wanted to she could use that to make the divorce more difficult."

I never told him about her new love. All I said was, "I don't see how. I don't think she'll challenge this. I think she has her reasons for wanting a divorce herself."

"I see," he said, "Then I'll have the paperwork drawn up for you to sign. How and where would you like her to be served?"

"Try to be discreet," I said, "Keep it away from the children if you can, and don't embarrass her at work."

He nodded, "That can be arranged."

~V~

The paperwork was completed, and Susan was served as she returned from shopping on a Saturday morning. By email my lawyer told me the time, date and location, and I was satisfied. I expected Susan to sign off and begin moving forward with her plans. She didn't. I called my lawyer back after two weeks, he contacted her via registered mail, and her reply came through a lawyer she'd contacted.

Mr. Freeport emailed me that my wife had hired her own lawyer, a good one. He further asserted he'd submitted all my proposals as per our agreement, and he was awaiting her reply. I looked up the name Mr. Freeport gave me, Margaret O'Connor, and found out she was expensive, and she had a reputation.

It took a month, but Ms. O'Connor did contact my lawyer. Susan wanted me to turn over the house, her car, Samantha's car, and my car, plus she insisted I pay for a car she'd buy for Gregg as soon as he turned sixteen. She wanted eighty percent of all our other assets, all my tools, my sporting gear, and all other related appliances like my chain saws, my mowers and trimmers, and my canoe all of which was to be to be sold with the profits split at an eighty to twenty percent rate. She wanted half of any personal inheritances if I had any. I was to pay the mortgage, cover all insurance costs and healthcare bills. I was to pay her ten years alimony at half her salary, bonuses included, child support was to be set at the rate of $800.00 a month per child until both children turned twenty-five, and my parental visits would be limited to one weekend a month and every other Wednesday evening, all supervised by her.

Mr. Freeport emailed me, "She wants to impoverish you."

I sent back that I agreed. I further sent that I would agree to most her demands except the child visitation rights."

He emailed back that it wouldn't matter as Samantha would soon be eighteen and Gregg at sixteen had the right to choose to live with me if he desired. Mr. Freeport further emailed that if we dangled those prospects she might lower some of her other terms.

He sent a counter offer lowering alimony to eight years at thirty percent of her income, child support to $600.00 per child per month until they completed undergraduate school, and she would have to grant unlimited access to the children, even entry to her house till they both finished high school.

To my surprise my lawyer emailed that she accepted every condition except the unregulated access to her house, but she'd accept only if I proffered an acceptable explanation for my desire for divorce. She also demanded a hearing before a judge who met with her lawyer's approval.

I replied to my lawyer by email that I thought she probably wouldn't budge anymore, and that we should agree to her terms.

He emailed back asking for my grounds for divorce other than I was just tired of being married.

I sent back, "Try emotional abandonment."

He sent back, "Sure."

A court date was set, and pushed back and then pushed back again. Susan still hadn't signed anything. I knew she was stalling, but couldn't understand why. It was well into 2012 before a definite date was set. Finally we met. Before we went before the judge my lawyer warned that my wife might still insist on some form of counseling. I said I'd be flabbergasted if she did.

On the indicated day we went into the judge's courtroom. The judge was a youngish woman in her early forties. She was solicitous to both sides. When asked, Susan agreed to waive counseling on the condition she and I agree to discuss what I meant by "emotional abandonment". We met that very afternoon in the judge's chambers.

With our lawyers and judge present Susan and I had what I believed would be our final separation conference.

Susan started, "I still don't understand why you want a divorce, and this 'emotional abandonment' is for the birds."

I replied, "Susan I do still love you, but I'm convinced your love for me is more a matter of comfort, or more likely habit. I firmly believe if you were free you'd be very quick find someone else, someone you truly loved."

She blanched, and then responded, "There's no one else if that's what you're thinking."

I was determined to not mention her boyfriend, but just the same I said, "I don't believe you. I do believe you've been seeing someone else. I'm not accusing you of anything, but I do believe you've found at least an emotional replacement."

She didn't look at me for several seconds, but then she did. It was like the parting of the waters, she said, "Yes, there has been someone else. I've never done more than give him the lightest of kisses, but yes, there is someone," she swiveled around in her chair and asked, "Was I that transparent that you could tell something was going on?"

"Yes." I nodded, "Yes."

In disbelief, she asked again, "You're doing this for me?"

I nodded again.

She stood up and looked at her lawyer, "That's it then isn't it?"

Her lawyer smiled, "I suppose so."

Susan looked at me as she started to step away, "Thank you Jeremy. Believe me I'll be forever in your debt."

I only nodded.

And so my eighteen year marriage ended with a whimper, but not the drama.

~V~

Subsequent to my January announcement about divorce, my moving out, and the commensurate back and forths all that entailed I still had opportunities to see my children. When I talked to Gregg I could tell he'd lost interest in school. I could see he was sinking into depression, but not having access to my old home I couldn't check as closely as I wanted. Samantha kept me informed about some of his new, discouraging, behaviors; aside from a group of new, untrustworthy, friends Samantha told me he'd discovered marijuana and had been pilfering money from Susan's purse to sustain his habit. I realized I should have foreseen something, but until the divorce was settled I felt I was helpless. I was sure it was just a question of time before we had him in counseling.

Samantha was an entirely different matter; her behavior changed, but in ways I never anticipated. For one she'd become more nurturing and less confrontational with regard to Gregg. Imagine, the combative and belligerent older sibling had become the nurturing older sister. On the other hand it was clear to me through conversation and quiet observation Samantha's relationship with her mother had taken a one hundred eighty degree turn.

Samantha had always been somewhat resistant and maybe a little resentful of her mother's dominant behavior and her admittedly brusque exaggeratedly annoying personality. I guess to say before January 2011 and Susan's acquaintance with Schuster her "traditional" behavior had been moody, quick to anger, and argumentative. I hadn't seen it, but saw later that it was because she was so unhappy. She was probably no less unhappy subsequent to Schuster's appearance, but because she had him hidden in her pocket she concealed her misery at home with a veneer of artificial geniality. Samantha saw it too, but in a different way.

I managed to talk to Samantha about her mom and the general situation at home quite often. She had a lot to say.

"Dad," she explained on one visit, "Mom's become a real bitch." I tried to correct her saying she shouldn't use such harsh word on her mother, but Samantha scolded back, "You don't live with her anymore so you have no say. I couldn't argue so I listened.

She went on, "She's become impossible to live with. I stay away as much as I can. She complains and nags about everything. You remember how you used to help with the laundry, run the vacuum, dust, and pick up after everybody. Well she won't do it. She expects me to do it, and I'm not doing it. It's not my house, and besides it's because of her that you left."

I tried to intercept her there, but she wouldn't hear it. "Don't pretend dad. Gregg and I both know about the other man. I asked her who he was, but she denied there was anyone. She thinks we're stupid dad. I googled her IPhone, and found out everything. His name's Robert Schuster. He works for a publishing company, and..."

I stopped her there, "I know all that."

Samantha yelped, "Then why didn't you stop her?"

I told her, "She doesn't love me. She thinks she loves him."

"Dad," Samantha answered, "mom doesn't know who she loves, except herself. I hate her."

I said, "Just put up with her for now. The divorce is almost final; there's a ninety day wait, and then maybe things will change."

She asked, "Like what?"

I sidestepped her, "Do you know how I found out about Schuster?"

She just looked at me, "No, how?"

"Did you know your mom's kept a secret diary since 2011," I asked?"

"You found it?"

"Yes."

"Where is it?"

I was trapped. I should never have mentioned that stupid loose-leaf notebook. Besides she'd probably thrown it out by now. She had no more use for it. I said, "Oh I found it."

"Where," Samantha asked.

I smugly replied, "That's for me to know."

Samantha got mad. Arms akimbo she growled at me, "If you don't tell me I'll tear the house apart. I'll find it, and I'll blow her fucking ass right out of the water! I will dad. I'll fuck her up, and I'll get that publisher too!"

Now I knew I was trapped. I had to come up with something, "Look if I tell you will you do something for me?"

"That depends. You're not home anymore you know. You can't tell me what to do."

I pretended to laugh, "You're eighteen now anyway. Besides I couldn't tell you anything before so what's the difference?"

She got a real soft look, "Come on dad."

"OK," I said, "last time I saw she'd hidden it in the bureau where she keeps her jewelry, but before it was in the top shelf of her regular bureau. For all I know she might have moved it again... if she still uses it."

"Why would she do that," Samantha asked?

"I'm gone now. There's nothing to stop her from connecting with that man."

She said, "I'm going to find it and throw it away."

I said, "No, don't do that. If you find it sneak it over to your room and use your printer to make copies of her more recent pages. No, don't throw it out. Damn, she thinks it's a secret, but it's a secret we know about. We can keep track of her that way."

My daughter looked at me with a sly grin, "That's what you think huh."

I sly grinned her right back, "Yeah."