“I want the house,” she says immediately.
I roll my eyes. Honestly, I try to be patient. “I’ve said at least a dozen times now, keep the house. I don’t want it.”
“Of course you don’t want it. You were never here and don’t love it like we do.”
In reality, I don’t think she wants it either. She just doesn’t want me to have it. Or she wants me to want it so she can take it from me.
“Fine,” I answer. “I’m far too tired to argue this again. Keep the house, Natalia. It’s already been written into the divorce papers.”
“So that’s it,” she spits. “Just like that.”
“Look. As much as I enjoy you screaming at me, as I’ve endured for the past several months, it’s going to have to wait until I get home next week. This is not what I’d like to use my international minutes on.”
“International? You give me shit in alimony so you can go on international trips? Did you bring your second family?”
“Goodbye, Natalia.” I hang up and close my eyes.
In reality, alimony is stupid. I should not be paying for her to ‘maintain’ her lifestyle to the detriment of my own. The number I agreed on is basically the equivalent of half the mortgage, utilities, health care, etc. that I’d already been paying for my family in Anaheim, so it’s not all that different from what comes out of my paycheck now.
The difference is there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. In three years, the money going out stops, and I can transfer that money into my retirement accounts.
However, I maintain that alimony is stupid. Get a job. Live within your means. I shouldn’t have to continue to support someone that I’m no longer with,especiallysince my kids are grown and no longer dependent.
I sit in silence, staring out the large windows. I think I can still hear Natalia’s voice ringing in my ears.
My sigh feels heavy. I know that her anger is probably covering hurt, but I think she needs to move on. She’s not changing my mind. She doesn’t even want me to change my mind. She just wants to rant and be heard.
I’ve listened. For months, I’ve listened to her rant and rage without pushing back. Enough is enough.
My phone pings, and I remember I was texting with my kid.
Seth
Just so you know, I let Mom know that the trip you’re on isn’t out of pocket and it’s with school.
I smile and close my eyes again. Just a second. But my smile turns into a frown.
Me
Thank you, though I hate that you’re continuously dragged into this. That’s not fair to you.
Seth
Parents divorcing does affect their kids.
Me
I agree; however, calling you to bitch about me being on an international trip with a supposed second family is not appropriate. No matter your age. I’m sorry that you have to listen to it.
Seth
We’ve learned that Mom’s complaining is only half the truth. Sometimes it’s her interpretation of the truth.
Yet, I’m relatively convinced that it’s Natalia’s constant commentary about me that’s contributed to my children becoming so distant. Not that I’m not at fault. I certainly am. It was my decision, conscious or not, to stop coming home and effectively remove myself from their lives.
Me
I wish you weren’t subject to that.
