4: “Sunrise”

I slept okay during the night, surprisingly, considering it was after three before I actually closed my eyes. No dreams remembered but I woke without a shred of fatigue; maybe I was running on a cocktail of adrenaline and fear, so I ran with it and left my parent’s house a little before seven o’clock; went to the local Starbucks and sat down with my laptop and phone to work on calling a lawyer—any lawyer—who would take my case and wouldn’t rob me of any remaining dignity.
Two hours and several cups of coffee later, I had found a lawyer and set an appointment with him for that afternoon—I had at least one thing going my way. My phone chirped several times during the call as my wife was calling and sending text messages.
“Yeah, you text me now,” I whispered as I swiped over and pondered deleting a few of the texts messages but decided to keep them as evidence that she was, essentially, harassing me with unwanted contact—because it was bit too late at that point to reconcile, that ship had sailed.
I still wanted to find out who that guy really was...but everything I thought about doing to him would be considered illegal or could be twisted to serve her purpose of serving me some form of papers. I had met him once or twice in passing. A wave or a subtle handshake in a ‘hi, I’m friendly but I have no idea who you are and don’t really care’ way.
My phone chirped again, it was Lexi—who shouldn’t have had her phone on while at school.
When are you coming home?
I wrote out a long response about her mother than deleted it.
I typed out a few sentences about how life can sometimes be cruel and play you for a fool and that sometimes people are not who you think they are. I deleted that too.
I don’t know was all I could type in reply.
Can we stay with you, where ever it is you go?
I wanted to tell her yes, but I had no idea on how it go.

* * *

“Why did you leave your house?’
“I needed to cool down.”
“I see. Can I speak to you frankly?”
“Of course,” I replied.
“Unfortunately, that’s the stupidest thing we as men can do. We leave. Yes, it’s sometimes for the best. The anger, the threat of violence and the yelling.”
“Are you referring to me?”
“No, most likely it’s your wife yelling, by how you described it to me.”
“Yes,” I replied.

I stood in front of the desk of Charles Mordell, the divorce attorney who said he could squeeze me in that afternoon. His office was a cross between what one would see on a television commercial for a ambulance chaser lawyer, with a mix of a public library. He had three bookshelves of leather bound books or maybe they were simply empty shells made to look like he was well-versed in the law. Either that, or he raided the local Goodwill book store of antique tomes.

“While it screams chivalry and sounds like the best thing to do it hurts your position because you have been removed from your home. It may take an act of the courts or God in order for you to be able to set even a pinky toe into your own house.”

“I can’t win for losing, I guess.”
“It happens to the best of us. We want the best for our kids but sometimes we don’t what we’re doing anymore and when situations like this come up, the lost feelings come back in spades.”
“Yeah,” I replied as I felt that I maybe needed to go to a bar and drink.
“But before you lose hope and go drown your sorrows in the ye ole hooch, let me tell you that your case give you a great chance of getting custody of your children and leaving the courtroom with your head held high. You just need to avoid confrontation from your wife. Stay off of Facebook. Don’t talk to her one on one.”
“That hasn’t happened for awhile.”
“Have her present everything to you in writing,” he said as he leafed through the filesI gave him. “You have quite the paper trail. And that’s great. If it wasn’t sad because of what it means.”
I nodded.
“It will get better. You’ll get your life back.”
“To be honest, this is kind of a good thing.”
Chuck looked at me like I was suffering shock. Maybe it was the expression on my face that he had seen a million times before: the thousand yard stare mixed with thoughts that everything will be sugar and rainbows once again.
“How so?”
“It’s best I found out now instead of years down the road. I’m a fool but at least I won’t be an old fool. There’s a new life out there, I just have to get the current under control. I know it’s always going to be there and it’s going to hurt. I just don’t want it to bring me down.”
“I tell all of my clients that they should seek psychological counseling if they feel despair.”
“I feel fine.”
“I would still recommend a session.”
I only nodded.

An hour later I was back at the coffee shop in front of the movie theatre with a latte in one hand and my phone in the other as I searched for a doctor I could talk to, preferably a male due to the situation. I would have liked to assume that a female doctor would treat me in a professional opinion but I had a sinking feeling that the second we sat in her office I would feel that by talking about my feelings whole would see me as some sort of hideous hunk of human waste who was only there to talk about a woman who was not there to defend herself.
And I’d probably agree with her.

And then I’d pay her money.
Otherwise, I’d pay money to a bar and maybe a dance-assuming I could get the mettle to actually go to a strip club.
I could only drink my coffee and sigh as I started to think of all the negatives. The affair had been going on for some time and she had to look at me and I had to look at her and all of those times, I never had a clue.
Sure, I had suspicions, only because this is the world we live in, the one with broken people, destroyed lives and bitterness abound. The true human nature and I was feeling it at that moment. I only needed someone to cut me off in traffic and I was pretty sure I would have lost it and gone Memphis on them.
I left the coffee shop and drove to my parent’s house where I finally had to lay everything out on the table to them. They sat silently after I finished and I waited for the barrage of negativity and I would have shrugged it off as misery loved company but all they said was I could stay there and that things were going to get uncomfortable for the kids.
“It already is.”
“We should take the kids out for a day.” Mom said as she walked to the counter to pour another glass of tea,
“I’ll let you guys make that offer. I’m apparently not allowed to talk to them directly right now.”
“I’m sorry son,” Dad replied.
“It happens,” I said. “I would gave preferred to win a different kind of lottery.”