A Really Bad Day Read online

an unmarried woman that I thought I could confide in. It was nine-thirty, but Sharon agreed to meet me at a local bar and grill. I know it was stupid, but I left the kids asleep and met Sharon at the bar.

  I knew Sharon from church. I had talked to her a few times and to be honest, I wasn’t sure why I was calling her. I thought Sharon knew Marilyn and would remember me that way.

  She arrived at a quarter to ten and was just as pretty as I remembered. “Thanks for coming, Sharon. I really need a friend.”

  She looked at me with alarm, “What happened, Brandon?”

  I stifled my tears. “My wife left me for another man. I am going to divorce her!”

  Sharon set back in her chair. “Wow, that doesn’t sound like Marilyn at all. I know that she loves you very much.”

  I huffed up; I felt like Sharon had challenged me. “Well, you can take my word for it.”

  She smiled a beautiful smile. “I am not arguing with you; I am just saying, be certain of your facts before you jump to conclusions.”

  Maybe Sharon was making a lot of sense, and maybe she just didn’t know the whole story.

  I told her what all that had happened and that I thought Marilyn was spending the night with Salva, when my phone rang.

  Salva said, “Brandon, she is fine; a little drunk. I put her to bed and she is asleep. She promised to call you tomorrow. So far that is all I know. Want me to stay with her?”

  I shook my head. “Salva, please tell me where she is. She is my wife and I deserve to know what is going on.”

  Salva said, “Sorry, Brandon, I have to go.” He hung up and didn’t answer his phone when I called him back.

  I sat and stared at Sharon. “What should I do?”

  She drummed her fingers on the table. “Who is with the kids?”

  I strained, “No one; I left them alone.”

  Sharon stood up, pointed her finger at me. “YOU, go home to your kids,” then she softened. “You can call me anytime that you need to, but go home. Marilyn will be home tomorrow and then you can decide what to do.”

  As Sharon left, every man in the place was watching her. She was tall and well-shaped.

  I got up, went out to my car and drove home. Luckily, both my kids were still asleep.

  I don’t think that I slept much that night. I called Marilyn often but it went right to voicemail. I was pretty sure that meant that her phone was turned off.

  The next morning, I fed the kids and took them to school and day care respectively, and then drove to work. I was like a zombie; I cried some and did my best to hide my feelings. Marilyn didn’t call, and I left early to go home. I picked up the kids and took them home. I tried her phone again and got the same result. I did have one surprise: when I got home, I went to the closet to change clothes and Marilyn’s dirty clothes were on the closet floor. I was fairly certain that there were some clothes and a suitcase missing. I tried to play with the kids, but I just couldn’t do it; my heart was somewhere else.

  When I put the kids down for bed, I called Sharon. She answered, “Hello, is she home?”

  I shook my head. “No, she isn’t answering her phone and some of her clothes are gone.”

  Sharon cooed, “Oh, Brandon, I am so sorry. Give me her number and I will try to call her.”

  I gave Sharon the number but I was already sinking into depression. I didn’t expect any results.

  It was eleven-forty-five when my phone rang. I picked it up on the first ring. It was Salva. “Brandon, she is embarrassed and won’t go home. She is afraid of what you are going to say to her.”

  I smiled. “Put her on the phone!” I was going to be as gentle as I could.

  There was a long silence, then a meek, little voice said, “Hi, honey. How are my babies?”

  I stiffened. “Our babies are fine. More importantly, how are you?”

  Another long silence, “I am not doing so good. I am still drunk.” A giggle, then, “How do you feel about me?”

  This time the silence was on my end. “Honey, come home. We will talk about it then.” My time of being gentle was being pushed to the limit. I wanted to demand that she come home at once.

  The silence was even longer. I realized that she was muting the phone and talking to Salva. “Baby, I haven’t done anything wrong, but I did quit my job.”

  I smiled into the phone. “That’s okay, we will make it. The kids miss you; come home and see them.” I had played my trump card.

  She sighed, then asked again, “Baby, how do you feel about me?”

  I sighed, “Honey, I love you and miss you. Come home. I am not asking you, I am telling you: come home right now!” My patience had reached its breaking point.

  She said, “I came home; no one was there. I will see you tomorrow.”

  I was losing my temper. I said, “Honey, what is wrong with you?” but she had already hung up on me. I reared back to throw the phone, started the motion, but held onto it. I was as angry as I had ever been. Was she toying with me? I didn’t know. She had never acted like this before.

  I was tempted to call Sharon back, but I just stewed and stared at the house phone. How could the love of my life do this to me? What was going on? I was certain that she was seeing someone, possibly Salva. What should I do?

  I called my mother. “Mom, Marilyn has left me. I don’t know what to do.”

  She asked, “Son, I am sorry, what happened?”

  I said, “She quit her job, left me and the kids, and seems to be staying with another man.”

  My mother said, “Okay, son, I will drive up tomorrow and take care of the kids for you. You need to go see an attorney and get the proceedings started.”

  I whined, “But I don’t want a divorce. I love Marilyn. I just want her to come home.”

  Mom softened. “Let me tell you something: this is probably not the first time that she has done something like this, and she will do it again. I have been worried about her all your married life. She is not the woman that you think she is.”

  I was shocked. “Okay, Mom, I will see you tomorrow. I should be home with the kids about five-thirty.” We hung up and I got my first sleep in two days.

  The next morning, I was up and feeling better. I got the kids fed, dressed and off to school and day care. Then I went back home and waited, just in case Marilyn should come home again. I hid my car in the garage. I called my work and took the day off. I waited all day long. My mother arrived about four and I went and got my kids. So much for my detective work.

  My mother, Betty, prepared us dinner, and then we sat and watched television. I stared at the screen but in my mind I kept wondering what my wife might be doing.

  Grandma put the kids to bed and went to bed herself. I set up and waited for something to happen.

  At ten-thirty sharp my phone rang. It was Salva. “Brandon, you need to talk to Marilyn. She is drunk again and I can’t do anything with her.”

  I said, “Honey, tell me where you are and I will come and get you. You need to come home.”

  She slurred, “Baby, I have something to tell you. I have been having an affair with my ex-boss. It is over and I want to come home.”

  I was shocked speechless. “Um, um, I see. Honey, just tell me where you are and I will come get you.”

  She was quick to speak. “No, Salva will bring me home. We need to talk.” She hung up before I could say anything else.

  I stood up and fell to my knees sobbing. How could she do this to me? I cried and cried until I heard a car door slam. I wiped my eyes and stood up. I walked to the door carefully and opened it.

  There stood Marilyn. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were disheveled. Salva was holding her up.

  I said, “Come in. You too, Salva; I think we all need to talk.” Whether I liked it or not, there was a hardness in my voice that I couldn’t do anything about. The thought of Marilyn having an affair had not penetrated my brain just yet. The sight of her safe was all
that my mind could handle.

  Salva said, “Just let me drop her off and I will leave. I don’t want to be a part of this.” Sure enough, he helped Marilyn to the sofa, set her down, and he left. I listened to his powerful car start up and he drove off.

  Marilyn and I sat side by side and held hands.

  I looked at Marilyn through tear-stained eyes. “You—you had an affair?”

  She nodded. “Yes, with Bert Manguss. I broke it off and we had a fight in the office and I quit. I can’t work for him anymore. He will keep pressuring me for sex.”

  I smiled. “This is something that his wife needs to know about.” I had met Bert at one of their Christmas parties. I didn’t like the man. I just couldn’t believe that Marilyn had an affair with him. He wasn’t her type at all; perhaps I didn’t know what her type was.

  She smiled thinly. “Yeah, I should be the one to tell his wife.”

  I stood up and began to pace the floor. I couldn’t believe or process what I had heard. I finally got out, “How long has this been going on?” I had much more that I wanted to ask, but it just wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

  Marilyn flipped a long strand of blonde hair out of her face. “About a year, I guess. It started at one of the business meetings that we attended. He got me drunk and seduced me, then he has been threatening me that he would tell you if I didn’t keep it up.”

  I sat down across the room from her; I didn’t want to be any closer to her than I had to. “Honey, this is a deal-breaker. I don’t think I can stay married to you.”

  She burst out crying again. “I knew that I couldn’t count on you. You