HONEY, I’M HOME

 

Charles Deemer

 

 

 

            Casey came out of the restaurant’s back exit and stopped at the edge of the parking lot. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Breaking up with Jennifer had been less stressful than anticipated. She’d made no ugly scene, thrown no tantrum, not even cried. She looked shocked only for a moment before giving him a puzzling smile and staring down at her cheesecake as if considering whether or not to throw it at him. Then she said, “Have a good life,” slipped out of the booth, and walked calmly to the front door. Their not-quite-a-year affair was over.

            It had to be done. For months he’d been a wreck, worried that Martha would find out and sue for divorce, making it difficult for him to see Teddy, taking him to the cleaners, the whole shot. The affair with Jennifer, who worked in his office, had started as a harmless fling and grew like a virus into some kind of sexual addiction. That she was twenty years younger was a great turn-on for a long time. The trouble was, before and after sex he had to spend time with her.

            Pulling out of the parking lot, Casey congratulated himself for having come to his senses. Better late than never. He braked at the street, waiting to pull into traffic, and saw the red neon sign of Johnson’s Jewelers. He’d become a regular customer recently, buying presents for Jennifer. He made a note to buy his wife some jewelry soon.

            In the meantime, he’d come home with flowers. This ought to surprise her – and please her. He made a quick stop at Safeway and purchased a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums and a bottle of wine.

            He parked in the driveway because the garage door was closed. This meant one of two things: either the second parking place was filled with Teddy’s toys and Martha was doing him a favor, saving him from opening the door to find his spot unavailable; or she was pissed at him once again for coming home late. Even if the latter were true, Martha was a sucker for flowers. He knew he had a lot of making up to do. The thing was, he loved his wife, and he loved his son. Sure, the sizzle had gone out of their marriage, so what else was new? The fling with Jennifer had been stupid, his own private middle-age crisis. Casey felt good about how much he’d learned from the mistake. Sometimes you had to go through the fire to come out a better person.

            He let himself into the house and called, “Honey, I’m home!” This entrance had been a joke between them early in their marriage. Often then he would find Martha waiting for him in bed.

            This evening there was no answer. Maybe she’d taken Teddy and gone to the store. Shopping was Martha’s cure for stress. Or maybe she was playing hard to get. He went into the kitchen and put the flowers in a pilsner glass of water. He opened the wine and poured two glasses, which he carried into the living room.

            He saw the envelope on the mantel above the fireplace as soon as he entered. CASEY was printed on it in large capital letters, almost in a child’s hand.

            He took out the folded sheet of paper from the envelope and read it.

Casey – I’ve taken Teddy and gone to mother’s. I’m filing for divorce. Don’t try to call or contact me. I might as well tell you this now since you’ll find out soon enough but I’ve been seeing Ralph. For almost six months now. In the beginning I thought I was just getting even for Jennifer but I think I’m falling in love with him. At any rate, our marriage obviously is over, and I think this will go easier for both of us if we let our lawyers do the talking. M.

 

Casey couldn’t move. He was dumbfounded, stunned. He felt frozen in time, an eternity passing between heartbeats. He couldn’t believe Martha was capable of having an affair. And with Ralph! … Ralph? … Ralph?