The Divorcee

I’d always risen from the left side of my bed. That’s why when I woke up Saturday morning and found my bed pushed up against the wall on that side, it started off my day all wrong. I wish that had been the ONLY difference . . .

The first thing I noticed as I rolled out of bed from the right side was that my wife was gone. She and I had some rocky business going on, but I figured she'd never leave. That was until I noticed that my entire house was cleared out, including my two kids. I went to call her mother's house, and realized the phone was gone. She must have taken my cell phone, because that was gone too. In fact, everything was gone, even my personal belongings. What business did she have, taking my tools and my car! How was I to get to work? And how in the world did she drive two cars at once?!

I sat there pondering my situation for a long time, screaming to God, asking Him why I had to lose my wife, and worse, my tools! I was so frustrated that I went through every cupboard in the place, searching for my cigarettes, to no avail. Go figure.

For the first time, I heard God answer me back as I screamed at him that day. I had always been a Christian. I went to church every Sunday and prayed as much as I could remember to, usually asking God why he had given me this lot. My kids were nuisances, and my wife distant and unforgiving, and I simply couldn't understand how He could allow my rewards to be this small for all my hard work. God had never answered me, until that morning. "You should have thanked Me for what you had instead of asking Me for more." I was stunned. I thought God would have a deeper voice. I was clearly not in my right mind and was imagining things.

Man, I really needed a cigarette. And a lighter. And a couch. TV. Sports car. And most of all, I needed my tools back. I had to find my wife.

Lucky for me, my job was just down the street, and that's the first place I decided to go. I was still wearing the same thing I went to sleep in, my pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, but I figured the guys would understand. Half of them were happily married... and divorced.

I walked through the used car sales lot, entered the vestibule and pulled on the main doors. To my surprise, they were closed. It was Saturday! Why would they be closed? A hastily scrawled sign on the door scrolled the message, "Closed for personal business." Whose personal business? Here I was, in my pajamas, and some snot nosed employee closed MY business?! I really needed to borrow a car! And bum a cigarette!

There it was. A customer's freshly repaired car, sitting by the side of the building. It wasn't much to look at, but I knew where the keys were hidden. Ignoring the ethical issues surrounding what I was doing, I turned the key in the ignition. The car didn't start. Nice repair work, I thought. So again, I walked.

And walked. And walked. Surprisingly, I didn't huff and puff as I usually did, probably accounting to the fact that I hadn't smoked at all that day. What do you know, they really did know what they were talking about! I must have walked for several hours, because by the time I reached my mother in laws house, it was nearly midafternoon. The doors were locked, nobody home. My wife's car, however, was in the driveway. I would have taken it, but the keys weren't in it. I peered into the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the mess within. Maybe I would see my tools. There were a great number of bags marked "Goodwill" on the inside. B----! She was giving away my stuff! And I could have sworn there was a wrench sticking out of one of them! The nerve!

As I was standing there, wondering whether or not I should sit and wait for them, a car pulled into the driveway. My wife stepped out, followed by my children, mother-in-law, and my siblings-in-law. All of them were dressed quite unusally for the season, and MAN, did my wife look hot in black. In her arms she held a large amount of flowers, her favorite varieties I never remembered to buy her. Was she seeing someone else?

My children were crying. They must be upset about leaving me behind. I couldn't take it anymore, I had to hold them again. Even if they were nuisances, I might not get to see them very often anymore. Nobody would trust a used car salesman, especially not a judge. She would get custody.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Kids! It's okay, daddy's here!" I yelled, raising my arms over my head, expecting a torrent of fresh, happy tears and my children in my arms. Instead, they stayed clinging to my wife, like I wasn't even there.

Her mother looked at her with curious eyes. "Are you going to tell the kids what happened?"

"Someday. He just couldn't stop smoking. It was just such a barrier between us. I couldn't stay in that house anymore. It reeked of cigarettes. I TOLD him he needed to quit, but he just wouldn't listen!"

"You did the right thing, honey. You'll get used to life without him, in time. It was beautiful, you know."

"What? The donation we gave to the lung cancer society, from selling all his stuff?" My lovely wife asked.

"The tools. Burying him with his tools. He never could live without his tools."

I sat on the porch with my head in my hands as my wife and children walked through me into the house.

Man, I really needed a cigarette.

998 Words