Chapter 5 #2
“I’m sorry, sweetness, but this is the last game of the season.
If the Pacers win this one, we’re going to the playoffs!
The boys will understand, believe me.” The boys hadn’t seemed overly upset, so I’d let the matter drop.
Studying the picture now, I could see the underlying frustration and anger that I’d tried to mask with a smile that didn’t quite meet my eyes.
I continued scrolling through the photos, looking at picture after picture of the last year, almost none of which included Ryan. I shook my head as I looked at photos of me with the boys on a weekend trip to Chicago – a trip that Ryan had skipped at the last minute.
“I’m sorry, sweets, but Mitch needs me to go with him to inspect a couple of houses he’s thinking of buying. He’s concerned that they may have some structural issues that would eat into his profits.”
Mitch worked in commercial real estate but fancied himself a budding real estate mogul thanks to his new side business.
He’d moved back to town a little over eighteen months ago and used the settlement he’d received from a medical malpractice lawsuit – an eyebrow lift gone wrong that he’d needed more surgery to correct – and bought a run-down house that had been in foreclosure, then renovated and flipped it for a nice profit.
The fact that he renovated it using the cheapest materials and cut corners every chance he could helped his bottom line considerably, allowing him to buy another house, and then several more.
He’d tried to get Ryan to invest in some houses with him last year and hadn’t been happy when I’d reminded my husband that we had two sons who would have tuitions and other college-related expenses soon, so it was not the time to make risky investments.
In truth, I didn’t trust Mitch any further than I could throw him. I wouldn’t have given him fifty dollars to invest, let alone the fifty thousand he’d discussed with Ryan. Luckily, Ryan had agreed with me, which I knew had pissed Mitch off even more.
I closed out of my photo app and tossed my phone down in disgust. That trip down memory lane had painted a bleak picture – no pun intended – of not only the state of our marriage but that of our whole family, as well, bringing it into startling clarity.
Something had to change, and if it wasn’t going to Ryan’s behavior, then it would be my reaction to it.
It was bad enough that Ryan had seemingly checked out of our marriage, but I’d be damned if I let him keep slacking when it came to his relationship with the boys.
We deserved more than whatever scraps Ryan threw our way when he wasn’t out trying to recapture his lost youth.
I sat back in the chair and reached for the book I’d bought yesterday, but I couldn’t focus on it as my mind kept wandering. When my cell phone rang a little while later, I eyed it warily as it rested on the table beside me, relaxing slightly when I saw Jen’s name on the screen.
I’d been anxious to talk to Ryan all weekend, but if he called right now, I wasn’t sure I would answer. I didn’t want to talk to him until I managed to figure out what I wanted – what I needed – to say.
I greeted Jen, then immediately asked how dinner with her aunt had been, hoping to head off the questions I knew she would ask.
“Aunt Maureen was fine…mostly. We got more details on her recent colonoscopy than anyone without a medical degree should ever know, but she’s apparently taking a break from the senior dating scene, so at least she didn’t mention oral sex this time,” she chuckled, then paused for a moment before asking, “So, how are things around there?”
“Not great, but on the plus side, I survived an ouzo-induced hangover this morning.”
My attempt at a joke was met with silence, then a quiet, “Oh, hon. Have you heard from him?”
“Not a peep. He’s been too busy taking photos of ball players to text to the neighbor and half-naked actresses to send to his brother to remember that he has a wife.” I was not proud of the petty bitchiness in my tone, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Did you try to call him?”
I bristled a bit at the question. “Nope. I wouldn’t want to interrupt his fun, since he’s obviously been so busy and all,” I added peevishly.
Jen snorted, then agreed that she probably wouldn’t have called either before asking, “What are you going to do?”
I glanced around the room as if I might find the answer hiding behind the couch, then sighed.
“I’ve been trying to figure that out all weekend.
I’ve wavered between anger, and hurt, and sadness, and then sheer rage, and now I’m stuck somewhere in between all of them.
” I plucked at a loose string on the hem of my sweater, then shook my head.
“I’m not even sure where to start this time.
Nothing I’ve said in the past has made a difference for very long. ”
“Look, I’m going to say this with all the love in the world, but you’ve got to stop letting him off the hook when he pulls this shit.
He apologizes and offers some lame excuses and goes right on doing whatever the fuck he pleases.
You’ve been letting him trample all over you and your feelings for months now – years, even – and that’s not like you.
You’ve never been a doormat, Mel. You’ve got lady balls…
you just need to remember that it’s OK to use them. ”
I laughed, but the sound was filled with sadness because she was right. I had become the very thing that I detested about some women. A doormat. A spineless, invisible doormat.