(Continue from last issue)
David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.
David spent the night in the guest room, which was just as well, considering how mad I was at him. Besides, he clearly had not had the opportunity to shower before coming to the hospital, as I had smelled the scent of that whore on him during our drive home, and the last thing I needed after the evening I had just had was to have David lying next to me that night, knowing he had lain with her, while I had been struggling to get our son to the hospital.
My simmering fury at the memory of the evening kept me awake for most of the night, my mind flittering from one thought of revenge to another, but when I woke up the next morning, I had finally arrived at a plan of action, and despite my restless night, I was fresh, energized and raring to go.
David’s defiant attitude the previous night had made it clear that I was not getting anywhere with him, no matter how much pressure I applied; so, I had determined that it was time for some outside intervention.
There was no point in approaching his family, for apart from his father, I had never had a particularly close relationship with any of them, and I knew there was no way they would ever take my side.
Although we were civil when forced to spend time in one another’s company, I knew that deep down they did not like me, and the feeling was mutual.
The only other alternative for a mediator was my family; while both my parents loved David, and normally took his side whenever we had disagreements, they loved their grandchildren even more; I was confident that if I managed to portray our fight as being about the children’s welfare, rather than my demands or his affair, I could get them to see things from my point of view.
I waited until David had left for work, then called my father, not to request, but rather to inform him that I was coming over to see them. The mere fact that I was calling on a weekday morning, told him that whatever the reason for my impromptu visit, it was serious; so, he did not question it, and simply said they were home, and I was welcome. Within half an hour, I was getting into a cab, headed to my parents’ home.
I could not remember the last time I had been so disgusted by Diane; that she could so blatantly use our son as a tool to get a car, was low – even for her, and while I normally moved to the guest room as a sign of protest after an argument, that night, I genuinely could not stand the thought of having her near me.
My revulsion at her did not abate overnight and I left for work earlier than I normally did the next morning, anxious to be out of the same space as her, and ensuring that she would not be ready in time to ask me to drop her at the boutique.
Only once I drove out of the driveway did I feel the tension and pent-up ire within me begin to ease; and determined to keep my mind off Diane for the rest of the day, I turned my thoughts to the meetings I had scheduled at the office for the morning.
I actually succeeded in distracting myself from thoughts of her for the first half of the day, until they all came rushing back when I got a call from her father asking me to go see him after work.
That he was calling me at all, let alone in the middle of a workday, was so out of the norm that I instinctively knew something was wrong; and I was certain that that topped by the fact that his summons had come on the heels of my fight with his daughter was no coincidence.
I did not know just what Diane had told her father, but I had no doubt that she was behind this call, and that only got me angrier than I already was.
If she thought that running to ‘daddy’ was going to fix our problems, she had another thing coming; I had a lot of respect for my father-in-law, but I was the head of my family, and I was not going to be bossed or ordered about by anyone – him inclusive. I would go and see him, but beyond that, I was not promising anything.
I was woken up from my nap by the sound of my phone ringing, and hurriedly fumbled around for it, anxious to get it before it woke Junior up.
Finding it, a quick glance at the screen that told me it was my mother calling.
“Hello Mummy,” I answered, in a hushed whisper as I hurried out of the bedroom.
“Hello Julie; why are you whispering? Where are you?” she demanded suspiciously.
Now in the living room, and at no risk of waking Junior up, I replied in a normal voice: “I was in the bedroom and didn’t want to wake Junior.”
“Oh, okay; anyway, I was calling to ask why you sent your sister back early?” she changed the subject, her tone blunt and tinged with a restrained anger. My mother was clearly pushing for a fight, and I did not have the energy for one.
“We both just needed a bit of space,” I answered calmly, my tone almost placating.
“She told me you were jealous of the amount of attention that married man of yours was paying to her; is that true?”
“I could never be jealous of Sandra,” I declared through gritted teeth, now angry and offended by her remark.
“If you can’t trust that man with your own sister, then why are you with him in the first place? Why make a baby with him?” she scoffed crudely.
I had heard enough; this conversation was clearly only going to get worse, so the sooner I ended it, the better.
“I think I can hear Junior waking up; I’ve got to go,” I lied.
She did not buy it for a minute, and just kept barreling on: “You always talk of what a wonderful man he is, but now you’re chasing your sister away because of him! How can you be jealous of a married man? Who do you think he goes to when he leaves that flat?”
I did not dignify her questions with answers.
“Bye Mummy, I’ve got to go,” I instead replied firmly, and quickly hung up before she could say anything else.