Chapter 4

Caryn was in the front when she heard the door opening. She rushed up to see what it was only to be confronted by a woman asking, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Caryn." Pause. Then angrily, "Who are you?"

"This is my house," the woman said loudly pushing past Caryn.

The noise had brought Mike. He rounded the hall corner and stopped. "Cyndi, what the hell are you doing here?"

"This is my house," she said.

"You walked out," he said and Caryn could hear the hurt in those words. "Now get out of here."

"You can't kick me out of my own home," Cyndi said angrily.

"I'll repeat it for you." Slowly, Mike said, "You walked out with your fucking boy toy."

Caryn put her hand to her mouth. She had never seen or heard Mike so angry.

That motion brought her to Cyndi's attention. "Who's the girl toy?"

Now Mike's rage nearly exploded. He took several deep breaths. "You know who that is. That's Caryn, the foster kid. You signed the papers."

Cyndi looked at her contemptuously. "This doesn't have anything to do with her."

"For once we are in agreement." Turning to Caryn, "Would you excuse us?"

Caryn carefully sidestepped past Cyndi and took off down the hall to her room. She didn't close the door and so heard the entire conversation, which occurred at a high volume.

Cyndi took some papers from her purse, "What the fuck is the meaning of this?"

Mike crossed his arms, "I'd guess those are the divorce papers."

"You can't divorce me."

"Oh yes I can." He pointed to the papers. "Read 'em and weep."

"This is my home!" Cyndi screamed.

Quietly and firmly, "Not any more."

"It's that slut," Cyndi yelled.

"Don't be offensive. You did it yourself, God damn it. You did it when you got that fucking boy toy of yours and walked out on me. You expect me to stay married to you when you're off living with some other guy."

"I'm not living with him," Cyndi said.

Mike rocked back, "Ah, I get it. The boy toy got rid of the older woman, did he?"

Cyndi's face flooded with hatred. Mike almost took a step back from the look of malevolence in it. "He found a little blonde slut, just like you."

"I'll tell you one last time. Keep a civil tongue in your head. She's just a high school kid who lost her entire family. Jesus Christ, you are foul," he said with disgust.

That penetrated. Cyndi stopped. "How did this happen?" she asked.

Mike smiled indulgently, reciting as though a child should learn by the time they are eight. "The human condition can be defined as the sum of all the choices we have made in our lives," Mike said quietly. Cyndi looked at him quizzically. "Rich people are rich because of the choices they have made. People who are happy are happy because of the choices they have made in their lives. People who are angry are angry because of the choices they have made. People who are getting divorced are getting divorced because of the choices they have made. You did it to yourself. You've got no one to point the finger at except yourself. Go think about that," Mike summarized.

"If you think that little..." She stopped because of the look on Mike's face. He had never laid a hand on her in anger during their marriage. She saw the look in his eyes of a man who could. "It's my house."

With disgust, Mike told her, "Get out."

She looked for some acceptance, some chance. There was none. She picked up the papers where she had dropped them. "I won't let some chippy steal my place." She turned and ran when Mike took a step towards her.

Mike slumped against the wall. That's how Caryn found him. "Mike?"

He roused himself, "Yes?"

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Mike saw the concern in Caryn's face. "Come here," he said wrapping her in his arms. "Please don't let her bother you."

Caryn began crying as Mike held her. He comforted her as best he could, murmuring, "She's gone. She's gone. Don't worry."

"Mike, can she do anything? I mean, what if she calls Deanne?" Caryn asked.

"Don't worry about that. Deanne would read her the riot act," he said confidently. But another possibility crept into his thoughts. What if Deanne didn't get the call?

Mike fixed dinner, and made it a joyous affair. By the time they crawled into bed, Caryn was almost over the afternoon. Mike made slow love to her that night, smiling as she reached her peak. "I love you," he told her over and over.

When Caryn arrived home from school the next day she heard steps following her up the walk. As she opened the door, she turned and saw Cyndi purposefully striding towards her. "What do you want?" Caryn asked.

Caryn drew back from the look on Cyndi's face. Cyndi pushed the girl through the door slamming it behind her. "You are getting out of my home."

Caryn was stuttering, "What? Why? What are you doing?" as Cyndi pushed her down the hall to her room.

"Get your filthy trash, you slut, and get out."

Caryn couldn't believe the venom and anger in the words. No one had ever treated her like this. She stood unable to move.

Cyndi looked around the room and saw the suitcases. She grabbed the largest and threw it on the bed, opened it and started shoving Caryn's clothes into it.

Caryn asked, "What are you doing?"

"Are you stupid, you bitch? I am throwing you out of my house." She threw more clothes from the closet at Caryn. "Pack up and get out."