“Gerald, I want to move to a commune.”

My wife of fifteen years looked at me with a resolved and determined look. I would almost say it was defiant.

“Did you say, a commune?” I asked knowing exactly what she said.

“Yes, dear. I’m tired of living by a self-centered society’s terms. There’s a lovely place in California that’s been a success for the last fifty years. It’s perfect for the new life I need.”

I didn’t know how to react. Cara was always a free spirit but I never saw this coming. She had some ideas about the world and her life that some might think were radical or out there but this idea was off the reservation even for her.

“I suppose this doesn’t include me?” There I went asking another question I knew the answer to already.

She frowned and said, “Gerald, no one is married in this lifestyle. Everyone is free to share. Not only the land, the food, the work, the money—but their bodies are to be shared as well.”

It was so farcical I had to laugh, which upset her.

“Gerald, it’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not funny Cara. It’s a cult and you’ve been brainwashed. Forget this nonsense and I’ll set up an appointment with a therapist for you.”

“I have not been brainwashed!” She shouted. “Don’t be a caveman!”

“Caveman? You’re the one that wants to go be free and live off of the land.”

“It’s not like that. People can have outside jobs. Their earnings are just shared with the community.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure if it was in shock or disgust. Fifteen years wasted. I would be alone at forty and because she felt that having children was too much of a drain on the planet’s resources, I didn’t even have any children to care for.

“Cara, I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s easy, Gerald. Say goodbye.”

How could she be so cruel? I lifted my eyes to hers and asked a question that until recently I thought I knew the answer to, “Did you ever love me, or was it all a lie?”

A tear slid down my cheek as I saw my answer in her dull eyes.

“In a way, I suppose I loved you at first. It’s just that I’ve evolved into a different person than the one you married and you haven’t evolved with me.”

“This isn’t evolution, dear wife. This is mental illness.” That hit the mark.

“I won’t sit here and be told I’m insane. I’m doing this and there’s nothing you can do.”

“Bullshit! I...”

“It’s done. I’ll be leaving in two weeks.”

“Wonderful!” I shouted. “As if I’m your employer I get two weeks notice?”

I stood and walked out of the kitchen, straight to our garden. I guess it wasn’t our garden anymore. It took over most of the backyard and we spent many hours talking about anything and everything out there. It was our respite from the world, our sanctuary, our happy place in a hectic world.

I sat on the stone bench, surrounded by years of loving labor, and realized it too was a waste. My life was truly a waste.

I could tell you I begged her to stay, I could tell you I begged her to take me with, I could even tell you I begged her to stay married to me so she could return to me when she came to her senses—I did none of those things. I simply let her go. If I wasn’t wanted, why should I fight?

I realized later that I was shocked into depression. Maybe if I would’ve been thinking more clearly at the time, I would’ve fought harder for our marriage?

I spoke to her parents and they loved the idea. I should’ve figured that conversation would’ve gone nowhere. They were flower power deep in their blood and Cara was their doted on youngest child who followed in their lifestyle footsteps.

Her brother was a CPA and her sister dared to work for one of the “evil” big banks. They both agreed I should seek help for Cara and would help if I needed although Cara and her parents were estranged from them.

Their materialistic lifestyles were too much for Cara and her parents. When her brother told them he voted for Trump, her mother almost fainted.

I was accepted into their family even though I was apolitical. I viewed all politicians as corrupt scumbags and her parents seemed to like that about me. They were as left as left can go, and that was fine by me. It never affected me. I just nodded when they went on their diatribes.

It’s not that I was conservative by definition. I was on the near left side of center. Cara and I agreed on most things, although she had some ideas about universal income and limiting corporate profit growth that would never work in real life as well as it sounded. I always said if she wanted that we should just go to a Star Trek economy and eliminate money altogether.

Divorcing a spouse that doesn’t want you or your material things is surprisingly easy. All she wanted was her car, half of our liquid savings, and her retirement plan. The house was paid off and I had a much larger 401k and IRA, but she didn’t care about any of that.

My business was a small consulting firm that helped mortgage companies and banks manage regulatory and compliance laws and their constant changes. She didn’t want any part of that either.

I spoke to a lawyer who said to sign the papers and run before she changed her mind, so I did and that was that. It was all very anti-climactic and on the day she left, she cried.

Foolish me, I thought they were tears for our marriage until I realized she was crying because she would miss the garden. I didn’t even get a kiss on the cheek on her way out the door.

We had a group of friends that swooped in to try to care for me. Mike and Jen were the oldest of our friends and were married for twenty-five years. Bill and June were our age, married for ten years. Shelby and Craig were the youngest and married for only three years. They were just shy of thirty.

They all came to the house the night she left, purposely waiting until she was gone. None of the wives wanted to speak with her and the men didn’t care either way. I think they mostly hoped their wives didn’t lose their minds along with her.

Shelby was the first to try to talk me off of the ledge.

“Gerald, maybe it’s for the best. I’m sure it hurts deeply but she couldn’t love you and do this to you.”

“Yeah, I’ve accepted the fact that she never loved me as I loved her, I just can’t get past the wasted years. So much of my life is gone and I’ve nothing to show for it. I could’ve been happy growing old with her and traveling the world. Now I realize I’ll die a lonely old man.”

“Stop that nonsense!” She shouted, surprising everyone. She was normally very soft-spoken.

“You’re not even forty. You can find another love, you have plenty of time.”

The group agreed with her and I was showered with platitudes. I didn’t want to hear any of it. I wanted to get on with my new single life as it was. Work, garden, sleep and eat. That was going to be my new life.

Mike, the elder statesman of our group, said, “Gerald, you need to snap out of your malaise. You’re a successful man that has his entire life ahead of him. Get out there and start over. Don’t let this define you.”

“Easy to say!” I spat. “You didn’t just find out out of nowhere that half of your life has been a lie. I wasted my entire adult life on her. I wanted children damn it! I loved her!”

I broke down in front of my friends. On top of the shame of my wife leaving me, I added to my embarrassment by crying over my loss. I’ve always been a heart on his sleeve kinda guy, but I felt ridiculous.

I was surrounded by the wives hugging me and trying to soothe me. Craig sneered, “Man up. You’re acting like a pussy. So you’re wife left you? Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Shut up, Craig!” Shelby insisted.

Shelby and Craig were complete opposites. I never understood why they were married. She was as sweet as could be and he was a controlling ass who most in our group didn’t like at all. In fact, the only reason they were in our group was that they lived next door to Mike and Jen and Jen looked upon Shelby as a daughter figure.

Jen said. “Settle down, kids. We have enough to deal with here. Gerald, you’re going to be fine. If you waste your time getting lost inside yourself, you’ll end up as you fear. Don’t do that. Get up and fight for what you want. You say you wanted kids? Now you can have them. She’s gone and not stopping you anymore.”

I nodded and accepted her hug. The rest of the evening was a drunken blur.

Thankfully, I work from home and manage my business using the phone and video conferences. I don’t have to meet with anyone in person if I choose not to and it was nice that I had my solitude to mire in. I was in no shape to go into an office or see anyone the following Monday.

I was auditing a major regional bank’s policy manual and it kept my mind occupied. They had an internal compliance department but wanted an outside company to do an annual review as a safeguard. It was probably overkill, but they weren’t paying billions in lawsuits to the government, so they figured it was working for them.

Working from home like that allowed me to be flexible with my time as well, which was good that Monday. I had what some would call a ‘lost weekend’. All I knew was that I didn’t leave the house. Delivery boxes of Chinese food and pizza were all over the kitchen and several bottles of whisky were in a pile on my living room floor.

I managed to get a few hours of work in, albeit unproductive ones. I couldn’t focus on anything and reading compliance policies isn’t nearly as exciting as reading a new Saddletramp story.

What surprised me that day was a call from Shelby checking up on me.

“Hey, Gerald, how are you doing?”

“Pretty rough, actually, but I’m making it.”

“Gerald, listen. The girls and I were talking and we’d like to treat you to a make-over day. It’ll be a nice fresh start for you. You know, like a clean slate.”

I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I had all my hair and it was still black. Granted it was longer and shaggier than was probably stylish. My beard was full and I thought it looked good. Maybe a trim was due, but all in all, I thought I looked fine.

“Shelby, thanks, but I’m fine. I don’t need a make-over.”

“Gerald, what are you wearing?”

I looked down and said, “Sweatpants and a t-shirt.”

“Uh-huh. And did you comb that mop on your head?”

“Uh, no, I finger-styled it.”

She laughed, “That’s what I thought. Let us do this for you, Gerald. We can go shopping and get you a new wardrobe. Jen will style your hair and trim your nest of a beard. You’ll look like a million bucks when we’re done with you.”

“Shelby, I appreciate it but no thank you. I really don’t need you guys being mother hens.”

I wished they would leave me alone. I had my style and I liked it. I was a little shaggy, okay, I was sloppy but I was a married man. Who did I have to impress? Then I realized I wasn’t a married man anymore. My divorce was filed and waiting for the final decree.

“I’m not going to let you give up on yourself, Gerald. You’ve got me, I mean, us worried about you and we don’t want you in a bad place mentally or physically.”

“Thanks for caring, Shelby, really. I’ve got to go and get some work done. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“You’d better,” she said as I hung up. It would be three months before I spoke to her or any of my friends again.

I was sitting at my desk ignoring another call from Jen, Mike, Shelby, or whomever it was that time. I hadn’t taken their calls nor answered the door for them when they came over for months. I simply shut everyone out.

I never left the house, my car hadn’t even moved from the garage. Everything I needed was delivered. I suppose that was one good thing that Covid shut-downs brought us—the wonderful delivery services for just about anything.

I had a conference in St. Louis I should’ve attended but I sent one of my employees in my place and let them fill me in on the details when they got back.

If Shelby and the wives thought I needed a make-over before, they would hate what I became since I had longer hair and a bushier beard. It didn’t matter to me except it itched a little more.

The saddest part of my non-existence was the garden. I stopped working in it and it was starting to weed and overgrow. I looked at it and felt compelled to spend a day in there but I couldn’t. For the first month every time I tried to work or sit in there I was driven to tears by my ex-wife’s abandonment.

I hadn’t heard any word from her or her parents so I assumed she was alive and not missing me as much as I was missing her. I still struggled with what she did and the love didn’t exactly turn off.

I received the final divorce papers and threw them into a filing cabinet. I didn’t care to see them again, nothing changed from the original agreement. I sent my lawyer his last payment and closed that chapter of my life.

With a long sigh, I decided to go out for dinner. It was time to rejoin the living. I went to my closet and pulled out a pair of slacks and found they were loose. I hadn’t noticed that I lost weight but wearing elastic-waisted sweats and shorts could hide that.

I looked in the mirror and held out the waist. I’d say it was two sizes too large. I wasn’t fat before by any measure but I guess I had some extra weight around the middle that wasn’t there anymore.

I laughed at the idea that the wives wanted to get me a new wardrobe before and now I’d really need one.

I decided to see my friends. I did miss them and felt bad every time I ignored their calls, I just couldn’t listen to the same thing over and over again from them. I wanted to be alone, and I was, but I realized I wasn’t happy.

I sent a group text to all of them.

“I will be at The Chop House in one hour. Would love to see you.”

My phone went into a frenzy. I got calls from all of them and couldn’t answer them all so I didn’t. I’d see them soon enough if they could make it.

I put on a loose-fitting polo shirt and tightened my pants. I looked like a homeless man that got free clothes. I frowned and thought more about letting the wives set me up with a new look. I may be taking them up on it.

I sat in the bar waiting for everyone to get there and had a martini. I realized it was my first drink since my lost weekend and I was proud of myself.

Shelby was the first to arrive and my breath was taken away. She looked amazing in a blue skirt that stopped about four inches above the knee and those sexy heels that have a thin strap across the toes and another strap around the ankle.

She saw me and gasped. It wasn’t exactly an unexpected reaction, it still hurt a bit.

“Gerald! What have you done to yourself?”

She hugged me and cried into my chest. I looked over her head and saw Jen and Mike walking up with Bill and June following behind them.

“Jesus, Gerald. Are you sick? Do you have cancer or something?” Mike asked.

“Guys, I’m perfectly fine. I guess I just lost a little weight.”

Jen shrieked, “You look horrible. Your hair, your beard—that’s it! No more cutting us out of your life. We’re gonna fix you up and get you back in fighting shape, ready for life.”

June added, “No more hiding in the house. Christ! You look like you haven’t seen the sun in months.”

“Let’s get a table and catch up, okay?” I asked uncomfortable with the attention we were getting.

“Where’s Craig?” I asked Shelby as we sat.

She looked sad and answered, “Working late again.”

“Damn, if I had you waiting at home for me in that dress, I’d never work late.”

She looked at me and smiled brightly. I was glad I could snap her out of her sadness. Something wasn’t right with her though. I wondered if there was more to the story.

We ordered our meals, shared appetizers, and poured and refilled wine glasses. It was like old times except for the absence of Cara. No one mentioned her at all and I was glad for that.

As we were leaving, Shelby pulled me aside and said, “Are you really doing alright? I’m worried about you.”

“Yes. I’ll be alright now. Hey! Don’t we still have plans to turn me into a new man on Saturday?”

She laughed and said, “Yes we do.”

“Then you can check up on me then. See you soon.” I kissed her cheek and walked her to her car. I hoped whatever was going on between Craig and her worked out. She was a sweet girl who cared about everyone and everything. Much like Cara at her age.

The following Saturday, I met the three wives at Jen’s salon. They shook their heads collectively and sighed when they saw me in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Dear Lord,! We have our work cut out for us today,” Jen said frowning. “Alright, ladies. This is what we’re doing today.”

She showed them a picture on her phone and all three looked at me then back at the phone. I had no idea what they were looking at. Shelby grabbed her phone and typed something in while I, of course, grew bored.

“I like the idea but I like this hairstyle better,” she said.

“Ooh!” Jen and June sighed at the same time. I was beginning to think they shared a brain.

“We have a winner!” Jen said pushing me into her chair. “Sit back and relax. When I’m done with you, you’re gonna be banging the women off with a stick.”

I looked at her and snorted.

“Ok, you’ll be banging the women on you with your stick.”

The girls laughed and Jen began clipping, ignoring my embarrassment. I watched as she sheared away piles of perfectly fine hair. The floor was covered with my black clippings.

I saw her shape the sides and blend them with the top. The style seemed familiar, I figured it was a celebrity look into which they were modeling me.

Finally, my hair was done. She put some kind of paste on her fingers and rubbed it through my hair. She looked me over and smiled. She blow-dried my damp hair and used her fingers to style it. I have to admit, I looked good.

It was long enough to comb, but still fairly short with a side part that stood up at an angle.

“Now the beard,” she said.

“Oh! I hoped you forgot that,” I whined.

“Not a chance, buddy. It’s the key to the whole look.”

She trimmed it all very short and then shaved my full beard into a thin Balbo beard.

“Oh, my God! You’ve turned me into Iron Man.”

She had and she smiled at her results.

“Iron Man wore a mask. I’ve made you into Tony Stark.”

Just then two wolf whistles sounded behind me. I looked at the grinning ladies in the mirror and said, “This is what you wanted, Shelby? To make me look like a movie star?”

“No, to make you look like you. If you want, you’d look just as hot growing in the sides to touch the mustache.”

I stared at the mirror, hardly recognizing myself with what she did to me. I’d have to admit I looked really good. With the weight loss, my face was less full and I could see my cheekbones were more defined.

“Well, I can always grow it back, right?” I said joking.

“Sure. That’ll be a hundred bucks,” Jen said with her hand out. I gave her my AMEX and she giggled away to the register.

“A hundred-dollar haircut?” I moaned.

“A hundred dollar work of art. This ain’t Floyd’s barbershop, Gerald. She’s a maestro.” Shelby teased.

“It included the tip,” Jen said handing me my card.

“Of course,” I said with a fake smile.

“Come on, girls. We’ve got shopping to do!”

They squealed like teenagers and pulled me out the door.

“What do you wear to work?” June asked as she looked at a rack of dress shirts.

“What I’m wearing now,” I said. “I work from home and if I have a video call, I put on a nicer shirt.”

She shook her head and grabbed two shirts in different colors.

Shelby shrieked, “You have to try on this one!”

It was a lavender dress shirt that cost a hundred and twenty dollars. If I had anything in my stomach, I’d have thrown up. It was a nice shirt though.

They had me model every outfit even though the clothes were the same sizes. “Holy crap,” June muttered as I walked out in the first ensemble.

Shelby giggled uncomfortably and Jen said, It’s a winner. Next!”

And on it went for countless outfits and countless stores. My credit card was smoking after all of the use. They wouldn’t let me walk out of the mall in my sweats, so I had to wear one of the new outfits. I swear that was their excuse to make me buy shoes and new socks too.

We stopped at Maggiano’s for lunch and June said, “This is my treat guys. He’s been such a sport and I’ve had too much fun playing dress-up with him.”

They all laughed at my discomfort and called me their Ken doll for the rest of lunch. If I were forced to say it, I did enjoy the day with them, regardless of the expense.

I walked into my house, arms loaded with bags of new clothes and shoes. I looked at my closet and started pulling out all of the Ill-fitting clothes and replaced them with the new duds.

I did the same with my socks and underwear. Then went my t-shirts. I put it all into bags and would give the lot of it to Goodwill.

I took that opportunity to make a completely fresh start. I took all of the pictures of Cara down, removed any decoration I didn’t like, and I bagged up the clothing she left behind to give to Goodwill as well. It was time to purge my old life.

When all was said and done, I had six bags of clothes and just as many garbage bags of blankets, linens, and towels. I frowned realizing I would have to go shopping again to replace the items I didn’t like.

The oddest thing happened at the store. A lady bumped into me with her cart and asked me out.

“Sorry, about that. Are you okay?”

I looked up and saw a cute red-head in her thirties. I smiled and said, “I think I’ll live.”

“Good, I’m Amy.”

“Hi, I’m Gerald. Nice to get run over by you.”

She laughed and said, “That’s quite a cart full. Did you and the wife get a new house?”

I smirked and said, “Subtle.” She blushed. “No, the opposite. I’m newly divorced and I’ve purged the house of everything I didn’t like, which turned out to be all of my linen closet.”

She laughed and said, “Well, I need to run. How about you take my number so we can talk about your linen closet some more.” She winked and took my proffered phone to enter her number. She called herself and stored mine as well.

“Nice to meet you, Gerald.”

“You too, Amy.”

I smiled as I watched her wiggle away. She had a great butt and her gray leggings left nothing to the imagination. She winked at me after turning and catching me watching her.

I sent a group text to my friends: “We have a serious problem. I got a girl’s phone number but have no idea how to date anymore.”

Craig texted: “Yes! Everyone meet at my house for dinner. We’ll get you straight, Ger.”

I honestly think he was more excited to have an excuse to cook steaks and drink. He liked to show off and landscaped his yard, especially for entertaining.

Craig was a large man. He was a couple of inches shorter than my 6’ 2” and weighed well over 200 lbs. He and Shelby were complete physical opposites as she was short and petite. I never got the attraction there. Maybe he was thinner when they met?

When I got there, Shelby was making side dishes and Craig was starting the grill. We were close so it was normal to walk into the backyard rather than go through their front door. That’s where I found Craig sweating over the coals.

“Hey, man!” He shouted in his boisterous way.

I set the beer I brought into the waiting cooler and shook his hand.

“So, you’re so old you forgot how to take a girl on a date, huh? No wonder the old lady left you.”

“Craig!” Shelby shouted as she brought him the seasoned steaks.

“I was just kidding, babe. Relax.”

“Yeah, I don’t have the first clue about dating anyone. It’s got to be different than it was twenty years ago when I met Cara.”

“It’s totally different, man,” he said. “Chicks don’t have third date rules or order salads anymore. That shit’s gone with the wind.”

Shelby glared at him and I could tell she was mad. She must’ve been wondering the same as I was about how he knew so much. They were married almost four years and dated for four before that.

“Don’t listen to him, Gerald. The women today are the same as they were twenty years ago. We just want a little romance, flowers, a nice dinner, maybe a movie or dancing. It’s all the same.”

I nodded as the grill flared up behind Craig.

“Shit,” he bellowed and started spritzing the coals with a nearby water bottle.

She smirked at me as she walked into the house.

“Grab me a Shandy, would ya?” He asked.

I handed him the beer and he said, “Don’t listen to her sappy bullshit. Girls want a strong, confident guy. If you show up with flowers, she’s gonna think you’re a pussy. Wine her, dine her, and sixty-nine her.”

He laughed as I shook my head. If it weren’t for Shelby, none of us would associate with someone like him. He was too juvenile for my liking and much too crass.

After dinner, the ladies all gave their ideas of how I should handle Amy. They agreed that I should call her the next day to ask her out. They also agreed that dinner and drinks would be a nice first date as it would allow us to get to know each other.

It made sense to me. You can’t talk during a movie and a first date is definitely get to know one another territory.

“Tell us about the hottie, Ger,” Craig said cutting Shelby off as she was asking about how I met her. “Does she have a smoking bod, or what?”

“She’s cute. A red-head with a nice figure. She had a great smile and to answer how we met, she hit me with her shopping cart.”

The ladies giggled and nodded to each other.

“Classic,” June said. “What a perfect way to see if he’s interested in you.”

“How’s that?” Bill asked, reading my mind.

“Well, if you hit a guy with your cart and he isn’t mad, he likes you.”

The guys groaned and the ladies laughed.

“The new look works for you, Gerald,” Bill said deftly changing the subject.

“I think I’m gonna grow the sides in,” I said looking at Jen. “I feel like I look like the devil with this new look.”

“I think you look sexy and apparently so did Amy,” Jen said making the girls laugh again. I was decidedly uncomfortable.

“Hi,” Amy said quietly. “It’s not a good time. Can I call you back?”

“Sure,” I answered, and then the beeps of the call ending sounded.

It was the following morning and I called Amy to ask her out. I guess Sundays are busy for everyone—well, not me.

It was a few hours before she called back.

“Sorry, Gerald. I was walking into church with my Mom.”

“No problem.” I took a deep breath, hoping to expel my nerves. “I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me this week?”

Whew! I got it out without stuttering through it.

“Yeah. I know a place that has decent food and karaoke on Saturdays.”

“Sounds good. You can’t make me sing though.”

She laughed and said, “I can offer some fun incentives to make you sing. I’ll meet you Saturday at eight.”

I was surprised at her abruptness and her choice of restaurant. It was quite a ways away. Then she also wanted to meet me there rather than have me pick her up. I guessed dating was different in the ‘20s.

Saturday at six, all of the wives were standing in my bedroom arguing about what I was going to wear. I was freshly showered and shaved and Jen insisted on doing my hair. I was against it, but I was never able to recreate what she did in her salon, so I relented.

I sat on my bed and watched Shelby pull out all of the new clothes they made me buy. Ultimately, they decided on black jeans and the lavender shirt Shelby picked out.

“Okay! Get out so I can get dressed.”

They giggled and went to help themselves to a glass of wine before my final inspection.

I thought I looked good and I passed their inspection because they gave me wolf-whistles.

“If I wasn’t married, you wouldn’t be leaving the house,” June said, making the girls laugh.

I felt good at the compliment. I thought it was genuine and I was hoping Amy felt the same about my appearance.

“Any last-minute advice, ladies?”

“Be yourself,” they said in unison and laughed.

“That’s all I ever am,” I said.

Shelby was the first to stand. “I need to get going.”

“Aw,” the others said.

“Sorry. Craig will be home from golfing soon and I need to get dinner started.”

She kissed my cheek and said, “Amy is a lucky woman.” I watched her walk away and thought that she seemed sad. I’d be sad too if I had to go home to Craig.

The others said goodbye and followed her out.

I pulled up to the restaurant Amy was meeting me at and I was surprised to see it was a bar. The name of the place was right, “Scruffy Mongrel”. What a dumb name for a bar.

She was there already and looked nice in tight jeans and a sweater.