Work In progress: Chapter 1 - Debbie

1 – Debbie

          6 years. That stretch of time crossed my mind during a counseling session with a couple who’d been married that long. It made me wonder if they were married before my divorce was finalized. 6 years. That’s how long I’ve been a single mother. That’s how long I’ve been collecting child support from my ex-husband, even though I don’t really need it.
          I have a rather successful family counseling practice that I started about 12 years ago. I find it ironic that a family counselor who specializes in couples counseling couldn’t keep her own marriage from crumbling apart. I teach my clients techniques to build trust and communication. I give them tips about how to bring out the best in their significant other based on their individual personalities and I’ve read numerous books about Love Languages and implemented a few tactics from those too.
          “So why did my marriage end?” I thought to myself.
          I wonder all the time about this. I’ve been able to help couples stay together even though both were mentally done; nothing about the other person made them happy anymore. If I could bring other people back from that point, why couldn’t I do that with my own marriage?
          I pulled myself out of my thought process and back to my work. I continued typing up my notes from my last counseling appointment. It was a therapy session with a family that came to me in an attempt to work out some issues they were having with getting along as a blended family. It was a family of 6; a mom and her 3 kids and a father and his daughter. The parents got married about 6 months ago and they are still in the adjustment stage. They were still learning how to move around the house without getting in anybody’s way, learning the different ways that each member of the family practiced consideration.
          My notes are always so extensive. My colleagues in the last practice I was a part of always told me that. I guess I’m a little OCD about my notes. I liked to ensure I didn’t miss a major or minor detail. What they described as extensive, I preferred to call diligent. I looked at my watch and almost spit out the mouthful of water I had intended to swallow. 7:45pm. I hadn’t realized it was that late. I’m usually out of here and picking up dinner on my way home by 6:30.
          I grabbed my desk phone and dialed home.
          “Hello?” my son answered.
          “Hey kiddo, sorry I’m running late. I lost track of time. Have you eaten?” I felt so bad for not paying attention to the clock.
          “Hey mom. Yeah I heated up some pizza rolls. When will you be home?” his voice eased my mind a bit. Pizza rolls? I guess he could have had something worse. At least it was a hot meal.
          “I’m leaving now. Do you want me to pick you up something on my way home?”
          “No that’s ok. Are you hungry? I can whip something up and have it ready for you.” Oh my God, he is so sweet. What did I do to deserve this kid?
          “Yeah can you heat me up some pizza rolls?” I laughed.
          He laughed back. “Yeah no problem.”
          “Thanks baby, did you finish your homework?” I felt I wouldn’t be a good mom if I didn’t ask him that.
          “Mom, please don’t call me baby. And yes I finished my homework.” I could almost hear his eyes rolling when he said that.
          “Sorry honey. Old habits die hard. I’ll be home shortly. Love you.” I apologized.
          “Love you too Mom. See you soon.” he said and he hung up.
          I laid the phone back on the receiver, closed my laptop in its case, placed my cellphone in my pocket and grabbed my keys. The elevator ride from the 8th floor to the parking garage didn’t usually bother me, but today it seemed to take forever. When the doors finally parted I quickly strode out into the deserted garage and made a beeline for my Tahoe. It was a gift from my ex-husband for our 10th anniversary.
          As a constant reminder of my previous mental ramblings about my failed marriage, I have often considered trading it for something that wasn’t merely a consolation prize from the divorce, as my friends often saw it. But it’s such a good car and my ex-husband isn’t a bad guy. It is frustrating to have those thoughts on an almost daily basis and resume my previous intrapersonal conflict during the drive home. I usually end up going through all 11 years of our marriage and try to find early indications of the impending end.
          I finally pulled into the driveway at 8:15. I suddenly realized how truly exhausted I was. What a long day, with clients and paperwork and scheduling. Now it was time for a bite to eat and a hot bubble bath. I grabbed my laptop case but didn’t bother with anything else and headed for the door. I walked into the kitchen from the garage and noticed right away that the dishes had been done and the counter tops were wiped down. On the table was my dinner of pizza rolls with a glass of wine. I smiled at the glass as I walked past the table and towards my office to set my things down.
          “David?” I called. Seconds later I heard the thudding of heavy footsteps on the stairs.
          “Yeah?” David responded as he reached the bottom.
          I gestured toward the glass accompanying my dinner. “What is this?” I asked with a smile on my face.
          He shrugged and grinned sheepishly “Well I figured you’d had a rough day and needed to unwind. I mean you told me you lost track of time. You probably had a lot of work or stuff on your mind.”
          “And you did the dishes and cleaned the counters?” I inquired, though I already knew the answer.
          “Again I figured you’d had a rough day. At the very least a long day. Working until 7:45.” He shrugged again.
          I walked over to him weaving around the couch and recliner and gave him a big hug. “Thank you baby. You’re the best.”
          “You’re welcome.” He said, hugging me back.

          I ate my dinner in the living room while I watched a movie. I usually have a handful of romantic comedies that I default to when I’m not in the mood for anything specific. After the movie I dragged myself upstairs with my second glass of wine in hand. I made sure to hold onto the handrail for fear of missing a step and spilling my beverage. I decided against the hot bubble bath and just put on a pair of lounge pants and an old t-shirt.
          I wandered down the hall to David’s room and knocked on the door.
          “Come in.” David called.
          I poked my head in. He had his nose in what appeared to be a history textbook. “Hey kiddo, I’m gonna head to bed. You should do the same pretty soon.”
          “I will Mom. I just need to finish this chapter.” He showed me the amount of pages he had left to read.
          “Ok. Goodnight David.” I smiled.
          “Goodnight Mom.”