“Is it too hot?” Gabriella asked, alarmed by my reaction to the second bite.
“No, no, no. It just went down the wrong way.”
Elijah pushed my glass of water closer, and I managed to take a drink and calm everyone’s nerves.
I had only been retired and living in my new place for a month, and already I needed a job, like, yesterday.
Roderick came by, and my grandson took off again.
Gabriella slipped away to her side of the house and started playing her music just loud enough for me to catch the beat, but not so loud I could rightfully complain. If we’d had a full separation of the house, I might not have heard it at all.
I’d volunteered to wash dishes, which left me elbow-deep in suds with plenty of time alone to consider how on earth I was going to get this oven repaired.
One of the last arguments Eric and I’d had occurred after I’d filed for divorce. The conversation started around money. This was odd because we rarely argued about money. We both worked. I handled the daily spending wisely, he handled investments, and that was how things flowed when we were a couple.
“I hope you don’t expect me to forfeit half of my 401(k),” he had nearly spat as I was clearing out my side of the closet, preparing to donate most of my clothes.
Attempting to sidestep him, I said, “This is why we have lawyers.”
And then he entered the sanctum of my side of the walk-in closet, something he had never done before, to say, “I have always made more money than you.”
“A perk of being a man, statistically.”
He grumbled. I sighed.
Against my will, my eyes filled with tears because, truly, I wanted to stay married. Who in their right mind wants to divorce after three decades? No one. But the fact that a person would divorce after all this time means they put up with a lot of stuff for a very long time, and at some point, it’s just enough.
Eric had thrown his hands in the air and left the closet. “This is stupid, Joyce! Two sensible adults have no business divorcing at our age.”
I threw the pile of clothes in my arms on the floor and followed him back to the kitchen, where he poured himself a shot of brandy.
“For the record, Eric, I agree with you.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because twosensible adultswould sit down and talk things out, followed by consistent actions toward improvement. You are the one who isnotwilling to grow with the demands of our marriage.”
He threw the liquid back in one move. “You are making our marriage a demanding place. It was always easy before now.”
“Easy foryou,” I bit back. “It seemed easy because I didn’t ask you to participate. It’s like… If our house was a huge party, you would have been the one bringing the ice, and I would be left to do everything else.”
“Iboughteverything else,” he argued.
“Money is not time, though. Or caring. Or love.”
He shrugged. “Why can’t you just enjoy today? The kids are gone, the house is…decorated, or whatever you did to make it a home. Now all we have to do is ride it out, Joyce. Why are you trying to ruin a good thing?”
“Because, Eric, it’s not fair to me. My reward for getting the kids out of the house shouldn’t be that now I only have one other person to take care of. It should be that, despite the years we were just going through the motions, we now get to resume our relationship, get reconnected, relearn each other, and decide how we want these final decades to look…together.” Though I had explained that to him several times before, I took the time to do it again, hoping against all odds that this time it would sink into his soul, and he would suddenly desire to make the pivot necessary. I added, “I’m asking for a partner. But it looks to me like you want me to carry on as usual: cook, have sex, and leave you alone.”
And then he’d stood still for a second, considering my words.
I knew my husband. The blank look on his face said,And what’s wrong with that?
Hope died. I knew that if I had stayed with him and let the resentment build up even more, it wouldn’t be long before my body broke down in response. Like my mother. Probably like her mother, too.
Grandma Jewel used to say that a woman has to have her peace.
It didn’t seem fair that walking away from a loveless marriage and a potential heart attack came with the penalty of losing financial security to the point where you can’t afford to replace an oven.
