Midlife Woes

11. Jolene

Ispent the next week monitoring myself because I couldn’t quite believe the change in me. That first night after my revelation, I’d moved out of our bedroom and into the guest room. The house was mine anyway, so there was no need to squabble over semantics.

I went about my days and nights like he’d never existed in my world, and it got easier as the days went by. I was still expecting to have some kind of attack or something because it didn’t seem normal for a person to be able to just shut off their feelings like that, so I was starting to think that maybe I had a brain tumor.

They say a person’s whole personality can change when that happens, you know. But the doctor had laughed his ass off when I walked into his office that second day with my complaints.

That’s how I learned that everyone already knew about the affair and the divorce. Apparently, my ex hadn’t been as careful as he should’ve been when he was catting around, and tongues were wagging around town.

A day ago, that would’ve bothered me some, but all I did was shrug my shoulders with a nonchalance that I was really beginning to feel and left it at that. At least, the people who mentioned it to my face had the decency to call him out, but who knows what they were saying behind my back.

I thought for sure I’d be more bothered by what people were saying. But the truth is, I couldn”t care less. I knew from the beginning that once the trust was broken, there was no way I could go back to the way things were.

But I thought for sure that after all these years, I’d linger and mope. Or, at the very least, spend my days reliving the past. Far from that, I’d spent a whole day removing every picture of us together, starting with our wedding portrait that used to hold center stage over the fireplace mantle in the living room.

The wall in the foyer now carried images of me and my children with not so much as his shadow. It didn’t take him long to notice, and he’d acted like I killed his firstborn.

That fool followed me around the house, ranting and raving like a lunatic while I watered my houseplants and ignored his dumb ass because I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he was so bothered.

I think that’s what really showed him that I was truly done, and he couldn’t stand it. I think he expected me to wallow in self-pity or some such thing or whatever it is he needed to feed his overblown ego. I wasn’t having it.

He got even more annoyed when I made dinner for myself and didn’t leave him so much as a crumb. I’m not sure why he thought I would still be cooking for him, not that I cooked; Cook made dinner, and she was the one who refused to make him anything or call and ask what he wanted when I chose something I know he hates. See, even the staff who have been here forever don’t want anything to do with him.

I’d given them some time off when things first started going haywire around here, but with everything settled except for the idiot judge who thought he could change my mind, there was no point in not going back to the way things were.

At least now they had less work to do with only me living here, and their pay wasn’t going to be affected at all because it’s not their fault my ex is a jackass. I’m sure that’s not the only reason they were choosing my side, though, because I’ve always treated them like family, and so have my kids.

Kevin, for some reason, didn’t seem to be doing too well with my new attitude, though, and apparently, I was to blame for all the wrongs in the world.

After his latest outburst, Sheila had reminded him of a few little truths that he seemed to have forgotten. For one, the fact that even though my grandparents had disowned Mom after she married Dad, they loved the ground I walked on, and if he forgot what that meant, as their only grandchild, I stood to inherit even more than he did.

That put a stop to his bullshit, but it didn’t stop him from moping around the house like a wounded bear for the rest of the day. Now, almost a week later, things hadn’t changed much on his end, not that I cared. I’ve been living as if he wasn’t even there, which is something I’ll have to get used to.

I was sitting on the back porch enjoying the dying sun when I heard the doorbell from inside. It had been another sweltering day, and I hadn’t done anything more than setting out the hummingbird feeders and making the syrup I make every year to keep them coming back.

I’m still amazed that I find pleasure in the little things even now, without any of that dark anger hanging over my head. Though I keep expecting it to return any minute.

My soon-to-be-ex has been going out of his way to get a rise out of me, but I think when I walked into the kitchen and found him on FaceTime with the kindergartener he was leaving me for and didn’t bat a lash, he finally got the memo. I was well and truly done.

Now, here’s the thing: the more I remove myself from the situation, the more astonished I am at his behavior. Not the cheating, he’s not the first, and he won’t be the last, but his actions since I decided I no longer wanted to fight.

I think he maybe got some kind of thrill out of me reacting the way I did in the beginning. Because even though I tried to pretend that his asking for the divorce didn’t bother me, it had, and he knew it.

But the fact that I walked over to the coffee pot and got myself a cuppa before leaving the room again without saying a word to him or her had sent him spiraling, and now he was on my ass like I was the one who had betrayed him. That’s what had caused Sheila to light into him.

I answered the door and almost had a heart attack when I saw the two policemen standing there. I knew they were cops because of the badges hanging around their necks because they were in plain clothes. “Good evening, ma’am. Are you, Jolene Masterson?”

“I am. Is there something wrong? Did something happen to one of my kids?”

They looked at each other before turning back to me. “No, ma’am, do you know an Anne Thorpe?”

“Yes, I do. How may I help you?”

“Ma’am, where were you this evening at around five P.M.?”

“I’m sorry? Um, I was here all day. Why? What’s going on?” Please don’t tell me that idiot turned me into the cops. What could be the reason?

“Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts, Ma’am?”

“Well, I have the security cameras; you can have a look at those, I guess. Do I need a lawyer?”

“That depends, Ma’am. Are you giving us permission to look at the cameras?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, you can use my phone; it records all day.” I think I was babbling, but I can’t be sure. This was so unexpected I didn’t know my head from my ass.

I grabbed my phone from the back porch where I’d left it and stood and waited while they scrolled through the video. At least they went right to the time they were looking for because I wasn’t too jazzed about them seeing me walking around in my nightie earlier in the day.

Look, I’m a female, after all, and even though I didn’t want my ex, there was no reason why I couldn’t show him what he was missing. At least that was Sheila’s excuse when she brought me the scandalous babydoll nightgowns she’d bought me.

“Thank you, Ma’am, sorry to bother you.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“You’re in the clear for now, but I guess you’ll hear about it soon enough. Miss. Thorpe was attacked and badly beaten earlier this evening.”

“And you thought I did it?”

“She didn’t see her attacker, but your name did come up. That’s all we’re at liberty to say right now. You enjoy the rest of your evening.” Is it my imagination, or did that thirty-something-year-old cop just give me the once-over? I do declare.