Chapter 2

With the words that you have just read, you have seen the end of my life as I had known it. I had nothing left but my job. The only way I was able to retain any sanity in my life was to devote myself to my work. That is just what I did. I went to work early and left late to make up for it. I worked six and seven days a week. I became the best in marketing and sales in my company. Face it, I could sell snow to an Eskimo or snow gear in hell.

That went on for about two months. Then my boss, who was much smarter than I ever gave him credit for pulled me into his office.

"Monte, you need to lighten up. You are a wreck just looking for a place to happen. How long do you think that you can keep up the pace you have been working?"

I looked at him puzzled and gave him my best answer. "Huh?"

"Look", he smiled, "you are my best salesman. Since your wife left you, your sales have gone up over 25%, but you are really starting to look like total dog shit. You are getting to the point where you have no best foot to put forward and in sales that is a death knell. You can't sell if your appearance is starting to scare your customers."

He went on to say some other things but I wasn't really paying attention. I realized that I was the most important thing in my life and I needed to start taking care of myself. Obviously, the people whom I had assumed cared for me really did not. It took a few days but suddenly I was eating better, joined a gym and was paying more attention to my personal hygiene.

Early on during the "Crap" period of my life, in a fit of anger, I had destroyed my cell phone. I just stomped on it until there was just a jumble of pieces that made it impossible to make or receive phone calls. When I went to my carrier for a new phone, they must been having a bad day also since they completely pissed me off.

The result of that was a new carrier, a new cell phone and a new phone number. I had cancelled my home phone service a few years ago since Leanne and I both had cell phones, so there was need for anything else. Now if anyone did not call me at work then they did not call me at all. I guarded my new number like a pit bull and was very, very selective in giving it out.

Sometime near the end of month four of my "Crap" period, the office receptionist, Paula, called me on my office intercom. "Monte, you have a call on line three; it's your daughter." She had no idea about my personal life. My boss and I had kept most of it just between the two of us.

I stared at the blinking light like it was the trigger to a bomb. The light just kept on blinking and I had no idea what to do. Paula's voice through the intercom startled me when she asked if I was going to pick up the line or not? I thought for a moment and then "Okay, thanks Paula, I'll pick it up."

I really didn't care about proper etiquette for answering this call. I simple picked up the receiver and said "What?" With a tremulous voice I heard Sam say "Dad, is that you?" "Yes, it's me." I was at loss about what to say so I kept my answers very short. I guess this was a day for surprises because I heard her say, "Can I see you? I need to see you, please!"

"Dad, I have been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you for over a month and I can't do this over the phone. I need to see you. I'm downstairs in the lobby and I'm not leaving until you agree to meet with me so I can talk to you and try to explain."

"I'm not sure we have anything to say to each other, Sam." "Please Dad, I'm begging!" I was pretty sure that I didn't want to do this, but if I had to then it would have to be someplace in public. From the tone of her voice I knew I had to do this. "Ok, My Place at 7:00 P.M." and I hung up.

For those that don't know, My Place is a small neighborhood bar near my house. I've been known to stop there now and then for a drink and while their menu is small, their food is the best. My daughter knew that I liked to stop there so I was certain she would find it with ease.

Sam was there when I walked through the door. She was sitting in one of the booths toward the rear of the bar. I couldn't help but notice that she looked like a little girl waiting for her punishment for something that she had done wrong. She was sitting hunched forward with her head hanging down and her hands clasped in her lap.

Sam didn't look up as I slid quietly into the booth opposite her. She knew I was there but made no acknowledgement of my presence. We sat there silently for several minutes. She had asked me to come. The pain of our last conversation was still a large lump in my heart. I said nothing simply because I didn't know what I could say.

Eventually Sam raised her head and looked me in the eyes. She had a very serious, no nonsense expression. "I don't know what is going on between you and Mom. I've been talking with her now for the last two months. I don't understand why she left. I know that she says that she still loves you but that she can't live with you anymore."

Then her voice became stronger as she said, "She won't tell me shit about what the hell happened between you and her. She says that it is none of my business and just to stay out of it. Well I want you to know that is total bullshit! You are both my parents and it is my business."

It was obvious that she was really stressed out but I could see her making a strong effort to control her emotions. I determined that the whole reason for the meeting between us was for me to tell my side of the story. She must have figured that half of the story was better than none.

We spent the next hour sitting there while I told her my story from the beginning til now. She was stunned when I told her how her mother had screamed at me and then she cried when I told her how Leanne left. "I can't believe that she would do that!" Sam kept softly repeating that phrase over and over throughout my narrative.

When I finished my story, I just sat there sipping my drink. Sam starting pulling herself together and after a few minutes, she made an excuse to go to the ladies room. She was gone for about fifteen minutes. She returned and took a seat again across from me.

Taking a long look at my face, she calmly told me, "I find some of the things that you told me so hard to believe and yet, I can hear in your voice that you believe what you say. I'm going to have to spend some time thinking about all this. I'm also going to make another attempt at a heart-to-heart with Mom.

With those words, she bid me a quiet "Good night Dad." Rising, she quickly left the bar. I didn't hear from or see my daughter for another month. I never expected to hear from her mother at all. So this is where I found myself at the very beginning of my story.

I was sitting in my new office when I saw her standing in my doorway.

I had recently been promoted because I had done such a good job in the last six months that I got my boss promoted and I was rewarded with his job. Good things do happen to people who work hard.

Why was my wife standing in my doorway?

The memory of the last evening we spent together flashed through my mind. I easily remembered the bewilderment and the pain of that evening and the many evenings that followed. Sitting there, I realized that the pain was still very real and very strong. However, the confusion was gone. In that flash of the moment, her ability to control and manipulate me was clearly in the past.

Slowly I looked her up and down. I could see changes since I had last laid eyes on her. She had cut her hair, her skirt was an inch or so shorter and her cleavage was definitely deeper. The four inch heels also were a change and it was a good overall picture that showcased the new woman she was trying to show me that she had become.

Since I was sitting, she probably couldn't see any changes in me. I probably was dressed a little better as I now wore a suit and tie, instead of just a tie. As I finally finished my inspection and my eyes rose to meet hers, I could see that she had been giving me her own inspection.

I could not read her expression. Her face was closed and tight. Her lips parted and she hissed, "You fucking bastard!" She waited a moment but before she could continue, I spoke first. "Leanne, I'm very busy and this is an office. I don't have time to play games with you. If you want to speak with me then I'll meet you at My Place at 8:00 P.M. Please leave now!"