Having Fun with Mr. Wrong (16 page)

Margo’s anger dissipated, and she absorbed the gravity of situation. The reality wrapped its way around her consciousness and strangled any words she could possibly utter.

“You can’t really be surprised,” Tim said, getting up from his seat. He moved over to her, stood in front of her, blocking her pacing yet keeping his distance. His calculated stare was downright scary as he locked eyes with her.

“You don’t know me anymore. You don’t care about what’s going on in my life. You’re too absorbed in your work.” His words were robotic and lifeless and matched the vacancy in his eyes. “For God’s sake, you wanted to have a date night and didn’t even keep the dates. What kind of marriage is that? And by the way, when
was
the last time we even spent a Saturday night together?”

She shrugged, searched her mind in vain for the right words. Any word to change his course. “We, we were at…”

“Stop pretending, Margo. It’s been months and months. We’ve drifted apart, you have to admit it.”

How could her Timmy be gone, just like that? Surely they could work this out? They loved each other. She put her hand on his shoulder, but he backed away from her touch. She shrank away from his coldness.

“At least let’s sit down and talk about it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

They resumed their seats across from one another at the breakfast nook. “There’s not much to talk about. I want a divorce, and I’m hoping that we can do this as amicably as possible. I’ve packed my belongings, my clothes, and personal items. You can keep everything else.”

Big deal.
She’d bought everything else.

“I can’t believe this is happening. You never told me you were unhappy. You haven’t even given me a chance to rectify the matter.” Panic built inside of her, clawed at her chest and throat. What would she do without him? How could she live in this house all alone? They were happy together. Weren’t they? She’d thought they were happy, anyway.

She tried to hold it together, but the dreadful tears started to well, stinging her cheeks and she heard herself plead, “Oh Timmy, no, no, you can’t do…” He grabbed the tissue box off the kitchen counter and slid it in front of her. His strange faraway look scared her unlike anything she’d ever experienced. What happened to the Timothy she knew and loved?

“Calm down, Margo. You’ve been living and breathing only that job for so long you won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

Could he be right ? Slowly the reality of the truth set in. She had neglected him, ignored his needs. But was it too late? “You…you can’t throw away ten years just like that!” She blew her nose, threw the tissue on the floor, and grabbed another. She could feel the blood pooling in her head, creating an instant migraine.

He shook his head. “I didn’t throw them away, you did. It all started when you bought this house against my wishes.”

She dried her tears and recalled the struggle they had over the house. According to her recollection, he had finally okayed it. Well, what was there to okay? She paid for the entire transaction.

There had to be something she could say to change his mind. It was all happening too fast. “We owe it to ourselves to seek counseling.”

Timothy blew out a heavy sigh and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “No, Margo, it’s over. Go to counseling if you want. Maybe you’ll find out how you allowed this to happen. I’m not interested.”

Their marriage was literally over? Hold on a minute. He’d really given her no warning at all. And had just come up with his preposterous accusations. “If you’re saying that the marriage has deteriorated over the last few months, well, that’s changeable. We can improve things with counseling. We owe ourselves at least that. Remember, we took vows before God that we’d stay together, through bad times and good, until death do us part?”

“The vows also stated that we would honor and cherish each other all the days of our lives. Can you honestly say you’ve done that during the last several years?”

She searched her mind for justifications, defenses, any kind of arguments to bring up against his claims. But she had none. Her mind went blank. “So I’m to blame for all of this?” She narrowed her eyes at him. Anger raised to the surface. The nerve of him!

“No, it takes two to keep a marriage going and two to destroy one. Maybe I could have tried harder. To me, it was an exercise in futility because the sweet, loving, and attentive girl I fell in love with disappeared. A cold, unaffectionate, self-absorbed woman I no longer knew replaced her. We were always driven, but even in college when we attended separate schools, there was a real connection, real caring. I can’t remember the last time you asked what was going on at the university.”

He stood and ran his hand through his hair, stopped in place, and glared at her. “I’ve just finished a huge project. Do you even know what it was about?” She shuddered at the sound of a once loving voice now laced with disgust. Glowering at her, hatred replaced the vacancy. His malice shot to her soul like gunfire. “I tried to be there for you, but when you’re doing all the giving and not getting anything in return, you drift off. And, frankly, that’s what I did.”

His meaning was lost to her. Drifted off, how? Margo racked her brain, searching for signs of him distancing himself from her but could find none. He’d still called her, they still made plans for dinner. Didn’t they?

That fine line between hatred and love flashed before her in his eyes. Perhaps she could coax him back in the direction of love. Surely the years they invested were worth something to him.

But before she could muster the courage to try, he continued with his painful rant. “We can’t save our marriage. It’s way too late for that.” He swallowed; his Adam’s apple bobbled. “I’m in love with someone else, and I intend to spend the rest of my life with her. She makes me happy.”

The announcement ripped through her heart like a knife. He loved another woman?
How the hell did this happen?
The deadening silence froze her, and for once the Queen of Talk couldn’t muster a response.

“Sadly, you’re so out of sync with me, I understand this must come as a shock to you.” He buttoned his sports jacket. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

She didn’t view a single sign of regret on his face. If anything, she espied triumph.

“It happened, and I can’t turn back. I’ve already had my lawyer draw up the divorce papers. All I want is your cooperation. As I’ve said, I’ve asked for nothing so all should be agreeable to you. I’ll send them to you for your signature.” He hesitated for a moment, and for a tiny second, she thought she caught a glimpse of his old self. “You’ll be fine, Margo. You’re strong. You’ll come to accept that this is the best for both of us.”

When she said nothing, he patted her shoulder, as if though she were a mere work associate. “I’ll be in touch.”

She continued to sit in the kitchen, her mind numb, as Tim went upstairs.

He returned with his suitcases and went out the front door without a glance toward her. She ran upstairs, checked his closets and drawers noting that nothing of his was left. Not a trace of him remained in their bedroom. He was out the door, for the last time. Her husband. The memories of their years together flashed across her mind, and she repeated the same question in her mind.

How in the world had she not seen this coming?

****

Carmala was getting ready to go out Saturday night. She and Guido planned to eat pizza out and catch a horror flick. Her landline rang, and she ran to get it.

“Hello?”

There was a garbled sound on the other end and then crying. It sounded like Margo.

“Margo? Margo? Is that you, hon?”

“Carmala. Timothy, he l-left me.”

“What?”

“He’s gone. He packed and left. S-said he has someone else that he’s in love with and that he intended to spend his life with her.” Margo blew her nose loudly.

Carmala tried to process this. The perfect married couple, living the perfect life, split? How can this be? Margo was on top of the world. For Timmy to throw her this whammy—she had to be torn up badly. “I want you to calm down. I’m taking the train to see you right away.”

“Okay. Please hurry.”

“I’ll be there in no time.” Guido would have to understand.

Carmala took her bag and coat and was on her way. She’d call Guido on the way to explain. Just when you thought you had men figured out, they pulled a stunt like this. What the hell?

Chapter Twelve

The next weekend Carmala planned to visit her family with Guido. After listening to Guido’s message on her cell, it didn’t seem he’d get his act together to make the train in time.

Carmala called him back. “Guido, we’re going to miss the train! Where the hell are you?” Carmala paced her apartment. They were headed to Philadelphia for Christmas. If he got there soon, they had a chance to still get on the train.

She called him on his cell again.

He picked up. “I’m on the sub…” His phone was breaking up.

Damn him for being late.

“I can’t hear you. You’re on the subway?”

“The…two…”

“Okay, hurry,” she shouted.

Like shouting would help. Underground cell phone reception was shitty.

She climbed down the stairs with one of her two pieces of luggage, and went out on the street to hail a cab. She gave the cabbie a twenty. “Can you hold the cab? We have to make a train and my boyfriend is late. I’ll give you the fare on top of the twenty.”

“It’s your money, lady,” the cabbie said. “Where you headed?”

“Grand Central Station. Just don’t leave. I have to go up and get the rest of my stuff.” She ran up to her apartment, got the other piece of luggage, the gifts for her family, and her toiletry bag. Then she checked again to make sure the doors and windows were locked. She’d arranged for her neighbor to feed the cats and watch over her apartment.

When she got down the stairs, the cab was waiting but still no Guido.

God! She was going to kill him. She tried his cell again. “Guido, where are you now?”

“I’m right down the street.” He sounded as if he was out of breath. “I’ll be there in five.”

“I could pick you up. I got a cab here waiting, tell me the intersection.”

He gave it to her, and of course, it was more than a five-minute walk. She was glad she’d asked. She spotted him and told the cabbie to stop. He popped the trunk, and Guido threw his single bag in and jumped in the cab.

“Sorry, babe. Last minute snag.”

“What was it?”

“Mama had a problem with the refrigerator. We got it fixed. We’ll still make it. We got like twenty-five minutes until the train takes off.”

The mother, always the mother. He had her tied to his hip. And Carmala resented it. When would his mother let him live his own life?

They got to Grand Central and ran to the train, making it in time for the final boarding call. It was a good thing Carmala had purchased the tickets in advance.

Her dad, Ernesto, waited for them as they disembarked the train at Thirtieth Street Station in Philadelphia. Carmala ran up to him and hugged him tightly. It’d been too long since she’d seen him. He kissed her cheek, and then he shook Guido’s hand and pulled him into a man hug. Every year, Guido spent part of the holidays with her parents, and they loved him, particularly since he was one-hundred-percent Sicilian.

“Mom and I are so happy to have you guys here. She already has the gravy on the stove with spare ribs, meatballs, and pork. The Christmas ham is in the oven, and there’s pumpkin pie, Italian cookies, you name it, out on the table. I hope you’ve bought your appetite.” Ernesto grabbed a couple of their bags and led them out to the parking lot.

On the way home, Carmala took in all the familiar sights: the huge skyscrapers in Center City, complete with the finished Comcast building and dual Liberty buildings with red and green lights proudly displayed on their triangular rooftops.

“We’re going to take Broad Street so you can see the Christmas decorations, Carmala. I know how much you love this time of year.” Ernesto laughed. “You think you’ll take Guido to the Bellevue for tea this year?”

Carmala looked at Guido in the back seat and winked. “Of course. And we’ll go to Tiffany’s on Walnut Street afterward.”

Guido rolled his eyes, but Carmala knew he’d tried to be a good sport.

“Say, Dad, did you hear the news? Bill popped the question to Jane. He gave her a nearly perfect two-point diamond ring and popped the question. Lucky girl.” She snuck a peek at Guido to check out his reaction. He winked, but she couldn’t for the life of her read his reaction. She wished she could know exactly what he thought on the subject. Did he ever think about him and her getting married? Their friends were already married or getting married.

“I heard, I heard. And I think it’s great,” Ernesto said.

They approached her old neighborhood in South Philly. The familiar residence loomed in front of her in its full Christmas glory. Each of the seven windows facing the main street boasted her mom’s single candle, bright red ribbons, and garland. Memories of her earlier years, particularly the ones in college, flooded her mind. Things were easier then. Why did life have to be so complicated? But maybe she’d thought things were complicated then as well.

They entered the house through the back door. Her Mom, Elizabetha, didn’t let family use the front door; only guests had that privilege. The door led into the kitchen still decorated with the seventies-style metallic wallpaper.

When she saw them, Elizabetha screamed from her spot at the stove. “Stop right there! Take your shoes off. It’s been raining all day, and I don’t want mud on my clean floor.”

Her mother turned on her slippered foot, and in one movement crushed Carmala to her chest. “My baby, how are you? I’ve missed you so much.” She held her daughter at arms’ length and eyed her up and down. “You’re way too skinny. Are you withering away to nothing on me?”

Carmala kissed her cheek. “It’s great to see you, Mom.”

Elizabetha grabbed Guido next. “And, Guido, I’m so glad you’re here, too.” She gave him a good once-over as well. “You, you look just fine. But we’ve got to fatten up this one.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder at Carmala.