Greeting Cards For Exes

Chapter Nine

M AUDE

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I reached across my bed. Empty .

I fisted some of the blue quilt in my hand, staring at Corny’s pillow. Hellfire. Two weeks he’d been gone. The house was quiet, save for the scratching sound of the tree branch against the siding outside my window. How could he do this to me? This question had pounded in my head every night since he’d left. Fifty years of marriage. Gone. Snuffed like a candle left out in a rainstorm..

I’d been on the phone with my lawyer, going through paperwork and bills, and making phone calls. It was never ending. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, and I raised my fingers to brush them away. I didn’t know what to feel anymore. Angry? Sad? Frustrated? So many emotions swirled through me. Was there a right way to do this?

Tossing back my covers, I slid from bed, putting on my fuzzy red slippers. Today, I’d force myself to go back to work. If I kept busy, I wouldn’t have time to focus on Corny’s betrayal . Nor would I have time to rehash every conversation we’d had over the last six months to see if I’d missed some sort of clue. But other than him pushing for me to drive again, there’d been nothing.

He’d acted the same. Every morning, breakfast together, lunch at my work in the afternoon, then he’d pick me up, we’d come home, watch the news on television, read the funnies in the paper, and start all over again the next day. If he’d only taken his damn medication. How did I miss him not doing it? Why hadn’t I paid closer attention?

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. No. I couldn’t wallow in pity and sorrow. If nothing else, I had to be strong. Show Corny I’d be just fine without his wrinkled hind end. Besides, why should I blame myself for something he chose not to do?

“Asshole,” I muttered to myself.

After a shower and a quick breakfast of toast and jam, I got ready for work. A pair of black slacks with matching jacket, and a red and white polka-dotted shirt, which tied at the neck underneath.

Once I finished dressing, I searched the pantry for my old lunch box, and readied my food for the day. I had to get out the door sooner now that I’d be driving. Although, I suppose I could easily take the L Train. There was a stop not too far from the house. But I hated the idea of public transportation. Especially by myself. No. I’d make myself drive. It’s not like I didn’t know how. I was always just more comfortable with Corny doing it.

Corny. No. I wasn’t going to think about him anymore today. I was the new and improved Maude now. Tough. Strong. Still having to wear my extra support bra.

Lunch in hand, I made my way outside, locking the front door behind me. It took me thirty minutes of white knuckled driving to get to work. I’d only been flipped off twice, so it was a good day.

When I got to my office, Mr. Dancy came sauntering toward me, and followed me inside.

“Maude, you’re back? I thought you might want another week or two?” He didn’t wait for me to ask him to take a seat, he just plopped in the chair on the other side of my desk.

“Ah, I need to stay busy. There’s nothing more for me to do at home. The quietness is driving me crazy. Besides, the more I’m there, the angrier I get about what Corny did. Bloody bastard, anyway.”

Mr. Dancy’s eyes widened. “Well alright then. Welcome back.”

He scurried out of the way, and back to his office. That was one way to get rid of him, make him uncomfortable. I chuckled to myself.

I flipped the button on my computer to get it up and running while I sorted through the stack of ideas I’d left in the basket on my desk. A picture of Corny and I at our fortieth wedding anniversary stared back at me.

My stomach knotted like a ball of yarn. Reaching forward, I flipped it face down. Biting back tears, I grabbed a tissue and dabbed my eyes. Without a second thought, I picked up the framed photograph and shoved it in my bottom drawer, out of sight.

For three hours, I attempted to come up with words of love. But I couldn’t write anything. Damn, Corny. If our marriage could end like this, then how was I supposed to convince some poor sucker that love was forever? More like men were shits. Love didn’t truly exist—only in movies, but not in real life.

My clock clicked over to noon, and I went and grabbed my lunch from the breakroom fridge, then trudged to find a place to sit in the cafeteria.

Wooyoung waved, then made his way toward me. “Hey, Maude. How are you? Is everything okay? I really missed seeing you.”

I snorted. “Sure you did, kid. Sorry, not in the mood to chat at the moment.”

“Oh, um, okay. I was just going to fill you in on the Piper front.”

I held my hand up. “Let’s not talk about it today. Maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

He nodded, casting me several strange looks.

Instead, I made my way over to where Piper and Kerrie sat, their lunches already spread in front of them.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked.

Piper peered up. “No, of course not. But aren’t you having lunch with your husband?”

I let out another snort. If I kept this up, I’d turn into a pig. “I might as well get this over with now, so you can say ‘I told you so.’ The two of you were right. Love does not exist. Men are jerks and bastards and every curse word under the sun. Corny left me. That no good, lying ass of a man is gone.”

Kerrie’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, God. Maude, I’m so sorry. Christ. How the hell could he walk away from you? You’ve been married forever.”

“Exactly.” I plopped next to them. “Fifty years I gave that man. And for him to do this to me. I want to wring his neck or run over his clothes with the lawn mower. Something to make me feel better.” I opened my lunch box and pulled out a piece of chicken and some leftover potato salad I’d bought at the grocery store.

“You’re better off without him,” Piper said, holding up her iced tea.

Carlos, who was at the table beside ours, scooted his chair closer to us, and said, “Men are horrible jerks.”

I frowned. “No men allowed at this table today.”

Carlos smoothed his dark hair with his hand, his coffee-colored eyes catching mine. “How can you say that? I was wronged by a man, too. Mine left me for Paris.”

“Do you have a penis?” Probably not the most appropriate question to be asking, but I doubted Mr. Dancy would fire me. Or with my luck, maybe he would.

Carlos flushed. “Yes, but what—”

“Then get lost. No penises allowed.”

He went back to his table, staring at me like I’d lost my mind, and maybe I had. But I was allowed to brood, even for just today.

“Can I get your phone numbers?” I pulled out my new cell phone. I’d never owned one before and was still trying to figure out how to use it. “I don’t have many friends left. Most are either dead or moved to Florida and Arizona. It’d be nice to have some girls to get together with.”

“Sure.” Piper reached for my phone and quickly added herself to my contacts, then handed it to Kerrie, who seemed to hesitate, but with a nod from Piper, she did the same.

“I was thinking,” I said, chewing my bottom lip. “If you two aren’t busy tonight, maybe we can have a boyfriend bonfire.”

Kerrie’s mouth dropped open a second time as she glanced at Piper. They both probably thought I was loony.

“I’m pretty sure burning exes is illegal.” Piper laughed.

I laughed, too. “Well, I didn’t mean burn our exes. I thought perhaps we needed a sort of cleansing ceremony. We could each bring something that our ex gave us to burn, kind of a good riddance to them type thing.”

Piper shrugged. “I’m game. What time do you want us there and what’s your address?”

“Does six sound good?” It’d been a while since I’d had company over, but it’d be nice to fill the house with some noise. Maybe it’d make me a little less lonely tonight.

“That’ll work for me. Sophie will be home to watch the younger two,” Kerrie said. “Now, I just have to decide what to bring.”

I texted the girls my address, then finished eating my food before I had to go back to work. On my way home tonight, I’d have to stop to buy some lighter fluid. We already had a small stack of wood in the backyard, as well as a fire pit.

Maybe this would be good for me. Lord knows, things couldn’t get any worse. Although, by saying that, I’d probably jinxed myself.