Wait until Wednesday
Joe was alone now, in a studio apartment two miles from the house where Karen and the kids remained. He had been planning to go over there in the morning, Christmas morning, to be with the kids and watch them open their presents. Then the phone rang. It was Karen.
Don’t come, she said.
Why not?
The kids don’t want you here.
Karen wouldn’t put them on the phone. Joe hung up.
The apartment was practically empty. Just a couple of fold-up lawn chairs and his sleeping bag on the floor. An alarm clock and a coffee pot. No doubt the kids blamed him. He was the one who left. Left Karen. Left them. He would try to make it up to them somehow, if they let him.
Karen was telling everyone this was all happening because he had stopped taking his antidepressants. That was the easy way out for her. Her friends would believe that.
Joe didn’t blame Karen. He told everyone this was all his doing.
They had gone to see a marriage counselor a few times back in November. The counselor was a woman, and Joe had expected her to take Karen’s side on everything. She didn’t, though. She only took Karen’s side when Karen was right. Of course he knew Karen was right sometimes, but he could never admit it.
In the end, the counseling didn’t do any good. It just cost money he didn’t have.
His business — a diner he and a partner had opened seven months earlier — had yet to turn a profit. Just as Karen had predicted. So Joe ended up selling his shiny Silverado. Damn, he loved that truck. It had been about the only thing that made him happy. Now he was driving an ancient Ford Ranger. No car payments, cheaper insurance, better gas mileage. The down side? The thing was butt ugly!
His friend Cory said trucks were supposed to be butt ugly, like their drivers.
Thanks a lot, Joe told him. You always know how to make me feel better.
He had hoped his mother would be supportive — she had always been his biggest booster — but when he told her he was moving out, she blew up at him, said he was only thinking of himself.
Marriage is sacred, she said.
She went on and on.
At least his sister had put him up for a while. He slept in her basement until he finally found the apartment, which he could barely afford. Maybe he would splurge on an air mattress and a pillow. A pillow for sure.
The apartment was too quiet. Joe opened a window and could hear cars outside. Doors opening and closing. Someone’s voice. He had yet to meet any of his neighbors. It started to rain and the voices ran away, went inside. He left the window open.
He called up Cory on his cell phone.
I want you to know I’m not doing this to hook up with someone else, Joe said. I don’t have anyone waiting in the wings. I just want to be myself again. I have tried to be whatever people needed me to be at the time. Now I just want to be me.
Good, Cory said. That’s good. That’s who you should be.
Don’t be too disappointed in me. I’m feeling bad enough as it is.
Joe had not been happy for a long time. He thought he had been dealing with it pretty well but he reached a point where he had to stop. Stop acting. Stop pretending. Get real.
I know my timing stinks, he told Cory.
Joe was hoping the separation wouldn’t mess up his son, Trevor, any more than he already was. Already the boy had been arrested for stealing a car, which he said he had only borrowed from his girlfriend. So why did she call the cops on him? As for his daughter, Mindy, he only hoped she would actually speak to him again someday. It killed him to think of the way she cried when he told her he was moving out. She hadn’t said one word to him, then or since.
I feel like Karen is using the kids to get back at me, Joe said. I’m sure she runs me down every chance she gets. I was hoping she’d act like an adult about this. We should be able to do what’s best for the kids. I know, I know, the best for the kids would be for me to stay at home. I just can’t.
Cory was silent. Joe thought they had lost their connection.
You there?
Yeah, sorry, had to take something out of the oven.
How did Sloane take the news?
I think she was stunned. She was quiet for a long time. Then she suggested we head up to see if we could help in any way.
She’s a good woman. You really lucked out, you know that, right?
I do.
So, what do you think?
I think this is between you and Karen. It isn’t the kind of situation where we can just insert ourselves. I suppose the best thing would be if you two could work it out.
Joe ate a slice of bread and cheese, drank a beer, and fell asleep to the rush of cars on the expressway.
It was weird being in the apartment all alone. Joe spent as little time there as he could. There was no TV, not even a radio. It was hard to get used to the silence. He welcomed the sound of neighbors coming and going, voices through the walls.
Cory called him after the new year.
Did I tell you, Joe said, I went to see a lawyer? I’m going to file for a divorce as soon as I get $700 saved up to get everything rolling.
Cory didn’t say anything, so Joe asked him straight out: What’s your feeling? Do you think I’m moving too fast?
You know me, Cory said, I tend to err on the side of caution. If going a little slower gives people the time they need to adjust emotionally, then —
But what if going slower just prolongs the pain?
You have a point there.
I want it done now, Joe said. So we can move on with our lives.
Joe was thinking about taking some night classes. Learn about business administration. Learn all the things he should have learned before they opened the diner. Figure out how to turn the place around.
What he wanted to do right now, though, was sit here in his lawn chair (the one on the left this time), take off his shoes, and watch the sun go down behind the 7-Eleven across the street.
As of March first Joe would no longer be working, for himself or anyone else. That’s when he and his business partner were going close the bleeding diner and go their separate ways. Karen had tried to tell him most new restaurants went under in less than a year. No doubt she would remind him of that every chance she got. At least now she wouldn’t get many chances.
He called Cory. Cory asked him what he was going to do.
I don’t know, Joe said. I can’t think straight with all that’s happening. I’m trying to get all my divorce papers together. Trevor is pissed off at me, Mindy is really pissed off at me, and Karen is really really really pissed off at me.
What else is new?
Just wait until Wednesday, Joe said. That’s when she’ll get the divorce papers in the mail!
You’re sure about this?
Joe sat in one lawn chair and put his feet up on the other. He looked around at the white walls and wondered what he should hang on them. He had no idea.
I’m sure, he said.
Not going to change your mind? Not going to wish —
Nope.
Good, Cory said. I’m glad.
You are?
I don’t know why you married her in the first place.
