Authors: Barbara S. Stewart
“Because she wanted some more perfume on?” he asked.
“Stop it! That’s not what I mean and you know it! I’m not stupid! I bought it when you came home smelling of Malayna’s Plumeria. I’m not buying it this time.” I walked away. I was NOT going to cry in front of him.
He grabbed my arm.
“Let me go! You’re hurting me!” I yelled.
“Listen to me, dammit! It’s nothing, Lulu.”
I shoved him out of my way. “What’s nothing?” I shouted in reply.
“It was one time…”
“Jesus Christ! You admit it?” I asked. I felt my bottom lip quiver.
“It was a thing. It happened. I won’t lie to you. I made a mistake.”
I slapped his face, hard. “Was it ‘one time’ with Malayna too, and you need to confess that now, as well?” I cried.
He rubbed his face from the sting. “Yes.”
“Jesus Christ, Robbie! I’ve been questioning myself all this time, worried that I was untrusting. Now I know why! God damn you!”
He reached for me. “I made a mistake.”
“Don’t! Do. Not. Touch. Me.” I broke down in tears. “I knew it. I knew it all along. You told me in the beginning,
‘I’m not a one woman kind of guy.’
That conversation has played over and over in my mind ever since you came home smelling of Malayna’s perfume. You made me think I was insecure. I’m the one who made a mistake! God damn you…” The last words were a weak whisper.
I walked away and headed down the stairs. I grabbed my purse and keys and started for the garage door.
“Lulu, wait!” He came flying down the stairs behind me, still wrapped only in his towel. “Give me another chance. I’m sorry. I love you.”
“You had two chances, Robbie. I’ll make arrangements to get my things.”
“Where are you going?” he asked. He looked genuinely sad.
“Home.
”
Home
I called my dad on my way. I still had a key, but I didn’t want to come in without him knowing.
“Lulu,” he said as soon as he answered. “It’s late; what’s wrong?”
“I’m coming home.”
When I walked in the house, he was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me. He rose and wrapped me in his arms, kissing the top of my head, while I cried.
“What happened?”
We talked for an hour and finally, I went to my room and crawled in my old bed. I sent Keelin a text and told him I wouldn’t be in the rest of the week.
The next morning, Keelin was at the house early, knocking on the door. When I opened it, he hugged me. We sat at the kitchen table and had coffee while I told him everything. Dad was getting ready for work.
When he came to the kitchen, he smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t want to leave her alone. You’re a good friend, Keelin. I need to go. Will you be here for dinner?” Dad asked me.
“Not tonight. I have to go get my things and get this over with,” I told him.
He looked like his tears would start flowing at any moment. “I need to go. I love you, Lulu. Thank you, Keelin.”
“I love her,” Keelin replied.
Dad turned and went out the door.
“He cried with me last night,” I said, explaining my dad’s hasty exit.
“Lulu, my darling-don’t waste your tears on that asshat.”
After he was gone, Keelin and I just sat there. “I can only stay a little longer. I’m going to take your class this morning.”
“The research assistant can cover it; you don’t need to do that.”
“I want to. Just don’t sit here all day and mope. I’ll be back after classes and we’ll go get your things.”
“It’s just my clothes and stuff. I don’t want anything else. I’ll call him to let him know we’re coming. Thank you,” I said, and started to cry.
After he left, I showered and made a list. I called Robbie around noon.
“Hey,” he said.
“I wanted to let you know that Keelin and I are coming to get my things later.”
“Lulu, please hear me out. I’m sick over this. I can’t think – can’t focus. I made a bad mistake. Can we talk about it before you make any decisions?” He sounded blue, but I couldn’t let that affect me.
“No. I can forgive you, but I’ll never be able to forget. I can’t be with you if I can’t trust you. I will always wonder. I made a mistake believing that you were different. You told me you loved me, but you made love to someone else.”
“It was sex. That’s all. Please…”
“You were unfaithful. I can’t. I’ll have my things out by the time you get home. I’ll leave the key on the table. Please don’t be there.”
“Lulu, please! I’ll pull out of the Davis Brothers ad. Please. I love you!”
“No, you don’t. You wouldn’t have had sex with someone else if you did. You were unfaithful. I can’t live like that. I’ll file the papers. I don’t want anything from you. I just want to move past this.”
I swear I heard him bawling when I hung up.
Keelin was at the house at three o’clock. We took his car and mine and headed away to get my things. Robbie came in while we were packing my clothes.
“I was really hoping to get through this without you being here. I’m almost done. Can you please wait downstairs?”
He sat down on the bed, defying me, watching me. I went to the closet and started sweeping my things off the racks into large trash bags. It didn’t seem he was going to budge. As I filled a bag, Keelin would take it to the car.
Robbie rose and took our wedding picture off the dresser.
“I don’t want that. I don’t want anything but my clothes and my personal things.”
“Look at it,” he said.
“I don’t need to. I can remember every minute of that day, but that was a different lifetime ago.”
“We were happy and in love, Lulu. You remember that, don’t you?” He followed me into the closet.
“I don’t want to remember.” I swept another arm full of clothes from the closet into a trash bag. I left the dress he’d bought me for the gala.
“It’s yours,” he said, taking it from the closet.
“I don’t want it.”
“Lulu, that was a beautiful night.”
I took the dress from him, walked to the bathroom and put it in the waste can. “I don’t want it.”
Keelin returned. “This is the last bag. I’m ready to go.”
Robbie was standing there, so I handed him the key and turned to go.
“Lulu…” I didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m sorry.”
He called later in the evening. I didn’t answer it. He called the next morning. I ignored it. The messages he left were groveling professions of love, begging me to forgive him. I couldn’t. I looked forward.
June 2008
When it came down to it, Robbie didn’t contest anything, so my life as Mrs. Robbie Muir ended quickly. I changed my name back to Louisa Welk. I’d never changed it at the university, so I didn’t have to explain to anyone what or why.
Keelin was my savior once again.
“Let’s go to happy hour,” he said one Friday a couple of weeks after I left Robbie.
“I’ll pass. I have some things I want to take care of.”
“You’ll have to step out sometime,” he prodded.
“Sometime I’ll join you. I will, but not tonight,” I told him. He smiled, understanding. “Soon.”
October 2008
I’d been back home with my dad for four months; happy to be there and have his company. One evening, he came in from work with a flyer. He handed it to me. “Matt from the body shop posted this today. I made a copy. I thought you might be interested.”
I looked it over. “Interesting. Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No,” he laughed. He sat down at the table with me. “You’re thirty-two…”
“Thirty-one for a couple more days,” I corrected him.
He smiled. “You need to be on your own.”
I looked at him and he began to explain. “You moved from here to Robbie’s, and then you were married, running your own home. I don’t want you to leave me again; you can stay here forever. But that’s not the right thing. You need to live, Lulu.”
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure what I would say when I did. He was right. I knew that, but this place was my safe haven.
That’s what he’s trying to tell you. ‘You need to live, Lulu.’ Hadn’t Keelin said the same thing? Maybe you do need to get out on your own.
“It’s a cute place.”
“A lot of potential,” he agreed.
“The price is in an acceptable range.”
“You can afford it. You can afford it,
and
do some upgrades,” he added.
“It’s a good neighborhood. Close to work.”
“Close enough to me, too.” He smiled, and it warmed my heart.
“Let’s go look.”
“You go,” he said. “I don’t want to encourage you. Look close and if you have any concerns, I’ll go back with you.”
On Saturday morning, I met Matt at 205 West Vickers St. I parked across the street. From that vantage point, I noticed a well-kept yard, with a big, old oak tree. I got out of the car and stood on the street a moment, looking. He came out on the porch.
“Hey, Lulu. It’s nice to see you.”
I’d known him for many years. “You too, Matt. Can I ask why you’re selling?” I inquired as I approached.
“Cindy’s mom died a few months ago and left her home to us. It’s bigger. The kids grew up in this house, but there are more grandkids than there are of them–Cindy wants more room. Come inside, she’s waiting to show you around.”
I walked in and found perfectly kept hardwood floors. “Maple,” Cindy said, and hugged me. “Good to see you.”
“You, too.” I looked at the fireplace in the corner.
“Converted to gas two years ago, it’s a lot easier than hauling wood and cleaning that out afterward. We’ve used it about ten times each the last two winters. It’s cozy, and to me, a fire in the winter warms the place in a different way than just heat.”
“It’s nice,” I said and looked further. There was a wooden bookcase with glass doors. It was filled with books, separating the living room and the dining room. I smiled, thinking of my books. The top was open to the dining room and filled with framed pictures of family. The dining room led to a kitchen that was a bit dated. Nothing major, I just saw things I’d do differently. There was a swinging door into a laundry room.
Heading back to the kitchen, there was another swinging door into an open room. “Matt’s man cave,” she laughed. I saw an office.
Between that room and the living room was a stairway that took us to a second floor.
“It used to be three bedrooms. When the girls moved out, we knocked the wall out between the smaller room and the bigger one that we use.” She led me to the bathroom. “This is why.”
“Wow!” It was a large bathroom with a vanity and a large garden tub.
“All those years, all of us crammed into the smaller bathroom down the hall. I wanted a bath!” Cindy laughed.