Erica, I’ll call her, came to me in tears, because Allen, I’ll call him, left her.
Should have known something was up when she asked if I had any scotch to put in her coffee.
It was 8 a.m.
Can’t say I was surprised at the news, since it’s been like a slow train coming.
I said nothing as she wept, zipping the lip, 12 Step slogan number 99, even though I so wanted to say, I told you so.
Longterm relationships need care, but quite often than not, are assumed to be so solid, they’ll just chug along at their own steam.
You need to look after one another, plain and simple. Allen, an investment banker, works hard, a 12 hour-a-day man, that, when he comes homes, needs attention…a meal, a smile…and not from Inez, the housekeeper either, but from his missus who’s rarely there to greet him.
Where is she? Oh, at another sample sale, taking one more college course…on a little holiday with her girlfriends.
He’s lonely. He needs to talk, and though he likes Inez, he wants his wife to hear about his day, not the woman who does the cleaning.
In all fairness, Allen was a real trooper, never strayed, always coming home stoic and silent, the contents of his briefcase keeping him company. I’d say, you know Erica, you just might be pushing the envelope by never being there when he gets home.
“Oh don’t be silly,” she’d say, “he’s fine, and would never think of fooling around. Allen? that’s pretty funny.”
Yeah well, who’s laughing now that he’s asked for a divorce so he can marry Frita, a girl he met at O’Hare, when his flight from Chicago got delayed. She’s 40, never married. and loves to cook, unlike Erica who’d freeze a few things Inez would then defrost. Apparently Frita bakes from scratch, and even makes her own bread, something Allen just can’t get over.
“I need to talk some sense into him,” she told me. “I mean wait till the kids hear. I’ll just die without my Allen.”