Chapter 8

Two days later...

“What do you want, Tracy?” I demanded as my estranged wife approached me out of the blue at the supermarket.

“I want ... to settle this. Put an end to this little farce,” Tracy looked at me with expectation.

“Yeah, well, when we’ve had a chance to hammer out a divorce settlement or the judge gavels his or her decision into effect ... then this ‘farce’ that you caused can be over at last. You’re the one who kicked me out, who filed for divorce, and who had the nerve to have me served at the library of all places. None of that was necessary, nor was sending your loverboy my way to preach at me over the divorce that YOU instigated!” I snarled at my ex in a way that left no doubt of my attitude toward her.

“Hey, don’t blame me! You’re the one who condoned sin! I had to kick you out, file, and serve you to bring you to your senses! To make you resume and reclaim your spiritual leadership. As for my ‘loverboy,’ I have no idea what you mean. Are you accusing me of infidelity, of adultery, of having an affair with Pastor Myers? He’s a married man!” Tracy reacted with genuine horror at the idea of being confronted over such things.

“Well, given your inconsistent and incoherent views on the sanctity of marriage, I certainly wouldn’t put cheating past you. After all, nowhere in Scripture is there a loophole or clause exempting people from the permanence of marriage if their spouse disagrees with them, or even with Scripture itself. Whether or you cheated or not, according to your own Bible, you stand condemned for seeking divorce, for kicking me out. That kind of thing,” I smiled as I confronted her with her hypocrisy.

“But, the Apostle Paul says that if the unbelieving leave, then a brother or sister is not bound by the marriage vows...,” Tracy retorted desperately.

“But I didn’t ‘leave.’ You kicked me out. You initiated the divorce. You deserted me. Not quite the same thing. Sounds like someone knows less about their Scripture than an apostate like me. Then again, your definition of ‘apostate’ may differ radically from mine. I’m a bit of a heathen lately, but that’s been since I was betrayed by Christians. I’m not feeling very ... grateful or loyal or devoted to what was our faith. Anyway, Pastor Ward was a better Christian than either you or loverboy ever could be,” I asserted in the face of my ex.

“Pastor Ward is a liberal, modernist heretic! He preaches doctrines of men, not of God!” Tracy growled.

“Seems to me that between you and loverboy, there’s plenty of THAT going around!” I got in my Parthian shot as I stormed off to finish my shopping.

I meant the second part, not the first, but I didn’t care enough about my ex to stand there and clarify that detail. Let her wonder what I meant by my zingers. One that I had realized about Tracy: my twins’ brains clearly came from me, ‘cause she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. It was a good thing that we stopped with them. We got lucky. The next brat or brats would likely have been foolish or stupid like their mother.

I hurried to send a text to Sarah about my encounter with my wife. She sent me a heart emoji and a laughing one for good measure. Then she hunted me down through the aisles until she finally caught me. Yeah, she was shopping with the same grocer as I. Tracy just hadn’t been lucky enough to meet her ... yet.

She was, however, unfortunate enough to catch Sarah planting a real scorcher of a lip lock on me. Seeing red for a moment, my wife rushed at my girlfriend to confront her, something that was so soapy it was hilarious ... could it be any more melodramatic? Tracy reached out to slap Sarah, but my fiancee caught her by the wrist. Moral of the story, hypocritical wives. Always make sure that the young lady soothing your jilted husband’s broken heart isn’t too strong for you BEFORE trying to kick her ass.