Chapter 2

Mike returned to Herring’s; he had the look of a beaten man. His feelings were a witch’s brew of confused and contrasting emotions. Anger, sorrow, depression, relief, fear; all were present and all were waiting to boil out of him. Unfortunately, his stoic nature refused to unleash them. He was one of those people whose tendencies were to keep things bottled up, to try and work things out on his own. They may have stayed simmering inside him had it not been for Donna.

Donna Corelli worked at Herring’s as a sort of executive secretary. Like Mike, she had no official title, but as Mike was looked upon as the head salesman, she was generally considered to be in charge of the administrative side of the business. She was the one who co-ordinated everything; you had a problem, you went to Donna. She would either solve it or explain who to see. A young woman, and more than a little attractive, she’d been working there for five years. She’d started straight out of high school at seventeen. Due to her young age, Mike had started calling her “Kid” went she first started, she’d responded by calling him “Daddy”, it had started as a joke, but after five years they still addressed each other that way; a running gag. She was the one who noticed the change in his demeanor after he returned.

“Are you all right, Daddy? You don’t seem like your normal self tonight.”

“Yeah, Kid, I’m fine, just a little tired, that’s all.” The distracted tone of his voice told her differently.

“No, I think there’s something wrong. Sure you don’t want to talk about anything? Talking helps.”

“No, there’s nothing to talk about. Like I said, I’m OK, I just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Typical man. Well, if you change your mind just let me know.”

He nodded his head, then turned and headed towards the showroom. While he appreciated her offer, he really didn’t want to pour out his guts to someone so young. As he stood in the showroom looking disinterestedly at the new models, it occurred to him he did want to talk to somebody about it. It was going to become common knowledge anyway; it was not the kind of thing one could keep secret. Donna had been perceptive enough to know something was wrong, so she might be the logical one for him to vent to. He turned and went back up the stairs that led to the second floor offices.

He looked around; Donna had returned to her cubical. When he went in, she looked up at him and smiled.

“What’s up, Daddy?”

“Look, you wanted to know what’s wrong, did you mean it?”

“Of course I did, ready to talk?”

“Yeah,” he waited a few seconds, “my marriage just ended.”

She set down the ink pen she’d been using and leaned back in her chair. She had a wide eyed, open mouthed look of astonishment on her face.

“Tonight? What in the hell happened? I mean, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I guess it’s been over for a while, it’s just tonight I got the final proof.”

“Go on, what kind of proof?”

“I followed her from work, her boyfriend picked her up and they went to a motel.”

“Maybe they went for a business meeting or a dinner. Suppliers take me to dinner sometimes, motels have restaurants. It doesn’t mean anything is going on.”

“No, he got out in front and went in to register, then they drove around the back and went in.”

“Look,” Donna glanced around the cubical, then back at Mike, “this isn’t the right place to talk, let’s go somewhere after we leave here where we can discuss it privately, OK?”

He really wasn’t sure he wanted to go with her, but then remembered he’d turned down her offer to talk in the first place, then changed his mind. He didn’t want to keep doing that, besides, he had nowhere to go. He was in no rush to go home since he still hadn’t figured out how to deal with the situation. Perhaps going with Donna would buy him time to think things out.

“That sounds good, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Nonsense, Daddy, that’s what friends are for. What works for you, a bar, restaurant, or my place?”

“I could use a drink, probably should eat, but I don’t feel like talking in public.”

“My place then, I have food, drink, and privacy.”

“You’re positive it’s all right? I feel like I’m imposing on you or something. I mean, this isn’t exactly your problem. I don’t feel right about dumping it all in your lap.”

“Don’t be foolish, you’d probably do the same for me if the situation was reversed, and you never know, someday it might be.”

“OK,” he answered reluctantly, “if you’re absolutely sure you don’t mind, I really would appreciate it.”

“I’ll be leaving about eight, you want to come with me in my car or do you think you can find it on your own?”

“I think I should take my own car, so I can leave afterwards. Having you drive me back to the lot to pick it up would be asking too much, and taking a cab just seems silly.”

“You know where I live?”

“Yeah, vaguely, that old converted motel over in the west side, right?”

“That’s right, apartment number five.”

It was a little after eight when he pulled into the parking lot of Donna’s apartment complex. He’d been tempted to go back to the Kmart to see if Joanie’s car was still there. He felt the need to do something; flatten the tires, take the rotor out of the distributor, plug up the exhaust pipe, anything to let her know he was aware of her goings on. But he thought better of it, fought the impulse, and drove straight to Donna’s.

It was difficult to call it an apartment “complex”, it was an old strip motel that had been built in the late forties. It was hard to tell exactly why it was built in town, rather than on the outskirts of town like most of the other old style motels from the period. One did have to remember of course, it was built before the completion of the interstate highway system and many city streets were considered to be the main routes. Any business it may have done died with the arrival of the interstate. It may have been a little better constructed than its contemporaries, therefore it had been remodeled and rented out as townhouse apartments while the others sank into decay and neglect.

He went to her door and knocked, not sure what he was going to say, or why he had even come, for that matter. Donna opened the door and flashed a sympathetic smile.

“Come on in, Daddy. Make yourself comfortable.”

Entering, he looked around. It appeared as if each apartment had originally been two units that had been combined into efficiency style domiciles; he’d lived in worse places. Donna gestured towards a chair.

“Sit down, relax. I was just about to throw a frozen lasagna in the oven; it’ll take a little while to get done. That’ll give us some time to talk.”

“Thanks,” he said taking the seat, “you really don’t have to go to all this trouble. I won’t stay long.”

“It’s no trouble and you need to eat. Now what can I get you to drink? I don’t have a lot pick from, but you’re welcome to it. Wine, some vodka for mixing, peach brandy, and I think there’s some whiskey; you’re choice.”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Stop with this being a bother nonsense, friends aren’t a bother. Now, I’m having a wine, are you sure that’s what you want too, or would you like something else?”

“No, wine is fine.” He paused momentarily, “Hey, how about that; I’m a poet?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, “you’re right up there with Kipling and Khayyam.”

She went into the kitchen area and put the lasagna into the oven. She opened the refrigerator and took out a large bottle of Reunite and poured two glassfuls. Returning to the living area she handed him one and settled into a chair with hers.

“Now, tell me, just what’s going on?”

Mike sat quietly for a few seconds. It still seemed odd to him to be talking about something like this to a girl so young. The fourteen year difference in their ages was bad enough, but the difference between a man in his mid-thirties and a woman in her very early twenties is immense, almost generational. To him she was still inexperienced, a novice in the intricacies of life, hardly someone who should be advising him. The whole situation made him uncomfortable. But still, he didn’t know how to react to the whole situation. He did know this however; he didn’t want to go home.

“I don’t know that there’s all that much to tell. I’ve had the feeling there’s been something wrong for a while, then, a couple of weeks ago I knocked off early. When I got home, Joanie wasn’t there. Now, that in itself wasn’t that big of a deal, but when she finally arrived, she seemed nervous, a little agitated, you know like that.”

“Probably just surprised to find you home. Are you sure you’re not over reacting? Maybe you’re see things that aren’t there.”

“That’s what I thought at first, but then she was real quick to jump into the hot tub and make love.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” She smiled at him.

“Yeah, well, you’ve never been married. The honest truth is as time goes on, you have sex less and less frequently.” He paused, obviously embarrassed to be talking about this, “Joanie’s never been a spur of the moment type of girl. When she was that quick to get it on, it seemed as if she were trying to divert my attention. After that, I started calling the house and at the Homestead on nights when she knew I was working. I started putting together the pieces. Then tonight, like I told you at work, I tailed her, saw where she was going.”

“Are you sure there’s no other explanation for tonight? Think about it for a moment, you may be missing something.”

“No, nothing,” he replied sadly, “tonight clinched it. Her going to that motel ... I have to face the facts.”

He shook his head slowly then, his elbow on the arm of the chair, rested his forehead on the palm of his hand. Then he emitted a strange chuckle, and spoke abstractedly, almost to himself.

“If she’s been seeing him once a week, that means he’s been getting more off her than I have. That night in the hot tub, I got ‘sloppy seconds’ from my own wife. God damn it, what a fool I’ve been. If it was anybody else, I’d be laughing my ass off. Just a God damned clown, it’s one hell of a thing.”

He felt her hand on his shoulder. Surprised, he looked up at her, he hadn’t noticed her get up and walk over to him. He saw the pitying sadness in her eyes and he wished he were somewhere else, wished desperately he hadn’t said anything, wished he could wake up and find it was all just a weird dream; he wished all that but knew it would do no good. This was reality in its harshest form.

“No, don’t do this to yourself, you’ve been fooled, that doesn’t make you a fool. There’s a difference.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” he smiled up at her, “but it’s not the way I feel.”

“Doesn’t matter how you feel, you trusted her, that’s what you were supposed to do. If you’re right and she broke that trust, that doesn’t make you foolish, just human. Now, finish your drink and I’ll get you another.”

He was surprised at the wisdom coming from one so young. He wondered if he’d had that much insight into things when he was that age. In fact, he was wondering if he had that much insight now, at his age. Then again, he couldn’t help thinking it was probably easier to see a problem when it was someone else’s. He watched as she came back with another glass of wine. She set it down then went back to her own chair.

“So, have you decided what you’re going to do about it?”

“Well, I’d like to go over to the motel and beat the living shit out of the two of them, but I’m not really going to do anything like that.”

“No, that’s not the way, you’ll just get in trouble.”

“Yeah, and besides that, I didn’t get a good look at this guy. He might be bigger than me. Getting my ass kicked would just add to the humiliation.”

“Well, at least your sense of humor is still intact. But really, a fight wouldn’t solve anything.”

“You’re right there. I guess I’ll be calling a lawyer tomorrow.”

“That’s the sensible thing to do. I wonder though, are you going to talk with her first?”

“I guess I should, but, damn, I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid I’ll start raving like a lunatic.”

“You’ll be alright once you have time to settle your nerves and get your mind straight. Right now you’re all jumbled up inside.”

They sat in silence sipping their wine. Mike was letting her words sink in; more bits of wisdom from this young woman. She was right. He had to get a grip on his emotions and control himself. His marriage was over, that was a fact. Actually, that wasn’t what was bothering him, it was the way it had ended. If only Joanie had just come to him said she wanted a divorce he would have taken it in his stride; there was a beginning and an end to everything. It was the deception that was killing him.

They retired to the kitchen area when the lasagna was ready. He ate with no great enthusiasm. It wasn’t because of the quality of the food, which was really quite good, but his mind was elsewhere and he couldn’t appreciate it properly. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful so he felt the need to compliment the meal.

“This doesn’t seem to be your run of the mill supermarket frozen dinner, what brand is it?”

“Thanks and none. I made it myself. When I make it I do up a big batch and freeze some for a later date. My freezer’s full of seal-a-meal bags of quick homemade dinners.”

“Good idea, I’ll have to remember that now that I’ll be on my own.”

“You’ll develop other ideas on your own. Living alone isn’t bad, in fact I kind of like it. Of course, I grew up in a large family, two brothers and two sisters, so I love having my privacy for the first time in my life.”

That was the moment it really hit him; he was going to be alone from now on. There was finality about it that he couldn’t ignore. That thought cast an air of melancholia over him. When they finished eating he helped Donna with the dishes but his mind was far away. Finishing the dishes, they returned to the living room.

“Want another drink or have you had enough?”

“All things considered, I don’t think there enough booze in the world to fill me tonight.”

“You’re welcome to all I have, I just don’t want you getting so drunk that you’ll go and do something foolish.”

“Naw, I’ve always been a happy drunk, it’s just that tonight I can’t get my mind off my problems.”

“OK, just checking.” With that she took his glass, refilled it, and returned it to him. “One more question, what are you going to do tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is this, you can’t go home tonight, you’re too wound up. Have you got somewhere to stay tonight?”

“No,” it was something he hadn’t thought about but she was right, going home tonight would be a mistake. “No, I hadn’t even thought about it. I’ll check into a motel. I know where there’s a good one, highly recommended by my soon to be ex-wife.”

“That’s one option,” she smiled at him, “but I think it’d be better if you stayed here on my couch for the night.”

“Oh, God no, that’d too much of an imposition, you’ve done enough already.”

“Again with the imposition nonsense, I’ve already told you to knock it off. Men, you never want to take help from anyone. You’re staying here, at least for tonight, after a good night’s sleep you’ll feel better and you’ll be able to see things clearer in the morning when you’re rested up.”

“You’re right, if you really don’t mind.”

“I don’t. The couch folds out, it’s my version of a guest room. I’ve never used it so I don’t know how comfortable it is, but it’s better than sleeping in your car.”

He felt a strange contented sensation and thought that this must be the way a stray cat or dog feels when somebody lets them come in out of the cold for the night. In a way it was pitiful, but he felt safe for the night. He gratefully accepted her offer. As far as he was concerned, tomorrow’s troubles could wait until tomorrow, tonight he could relax. He got out of the chair and went over to the couch and sat down.

“I thought I’d come over and check out the guest room,” he joked, “seems comfortable enough.”

“I’m glad it meets with your approval and I’m glad you’ve decided to take me up on the offer. Things will probably look better in the morning.” Then she looked at him quizzically, “Are you going to at least call her and let her know you won’t be home?”