Divorce, Death, The Challenges never stopped

The inventory had been reduced to just want I wanted to move.  The moving truck scheduled to pack me. The storage paid for in Indianapolis. My good byes to friends for a reason, all of them that had reached out and touched my heart when I was drowning.  

Russell & Gertrude Beadle 1932

It was February 27, 2001. The movers packing the truck heading to Indianapolis. John helping me to pack a truck I had rented Michigan bound. The phone rang, it was my parents, my grandmother had died. They wanted to know when I was leaving for Michigan.  I was headed out in the morning. They asked me to stay until they could drive up from Florida and we'd caravan to Michigan to my temporary destination and my grandmother's funeral.

My paternal grandmother. Gertrude Lucille Brown Beadle Schlichter Spatrisano. The only other woman I knew  with more letters in her name than myself.  I have thirty eight, Grandma had forty six.  We both were missing nine letters to make a complete alphabet. We both had not found a husband with the letters J,Q,V,X or Z in their name.  John's last name started with a Z, but I knew I would never marry him to snag one more letter that I'd been in search of.

She was full of life when she was younger. She was an only child raised by her mother and step father, who was much older than my great grandmother.  She was born, December 30,1914, in Murphysboro, Illinois. Her step father owned the gas station in town. 

Kayo and Lou on the road

The family moved to Michigan after surviving the deadliest tornado in US History on March 28, 1925. It is referred to as the Tri-State Tornado. Inflicting 695 fatalities. It occurred prior to  experts rating their severity on a F scale, but many believe it reached a F-5 status.  The family lost every thing.

She met my Grandpa at fifteen, he was born in Michigan, on April 29, 1909. They married May 21, 1932 and my father was born February 1, 1933. 

They rode motorcycles, leaving on road trips for weeks on end, leaving my father to be cared for by his Grandmother Grace. My great grandmother died at 56, my father devastated as this was the woman that raised him.

My grandmother carried a torch for my grandfather until the day she died. He left her for another woman,after 12 years of marriage, most of them, he was absent from as he worked in other cities. Sound familiar? They were in the midst of building a home on Turner Street just outside of Lansing, Michigan in DeWitt.  The cinder block walls had been erected, my grandmother and her two children living in the basement when he walked out on her.  She raised two children, worked in the factory during World War II, went to work for Fisher Body and built the house on top of the foundation he had left her in on her own with the money she earned.

My Dad, Grandpa, Grandma & Aunt Bonnie
 1974 at my brother's graduation 

She remarried, Bill, who was an alcoholic and would beat her.  She would go out of her way to provoke him when he was drinking, knowing she would be beaten.  She kicked him out of the house eventually and he was torn. Months after he had moved out, he reappeared in the backyard holding a shot gun, Grandma standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes.  He was there to tell her how much he loved her and needed her, but she did not share those feelings any longer, so he shot himself in front of her.

My grandmother was a feisty woman. She loved a clean house and when she was not working she was cleaning. She didn't know how to show love. She told me once when I was younger that "Grandma doesn't know how to show you physical love, she shows her love by buying you things." Growing  up, she had four grandchildren, it became very apparent who were those that she loved more.  

She had been pregnant several times after she had divorced my Grandfather and aborted those babies before abortion was legal. She was not a woman who really loved children, children made messes, left fingerprints on the cupboard and mud on the floor. I never witnessed her temper, but I have been told she had one helluva one.  I am like my grandmother in many ways.  My own mother would refer to me as Lucille many times as I was similar to her in the way she dressed, kept her house and her sense of humor.

She married her last husband the year my father entered the service, 1951. He was ten years younger than she was and had dated my Aunt Bonnie, Grandma's only daughter. Talk about a dysfunctional family! Joe and Grandma were married fifty years when she died.

Grandma 1992

She had loved all of her husbands, but she never stopped loving my grandfather. After my first divorce, she took me aside to give me words of wisdom, "Always marry someone who loves you more than you love them, and you'll always be happy. Marry someone who you love more, it will always end in heart ache."  Looking back on her life, she loved my Grandfather  more than life and her two subsequent husbands loved her more than she could return.

My parents arrived in Atlanta late that evening on February 27, 2001. They stayed in a  hotel, John and I slept on the floor in my house, it was my  last night there. In the early morning, we were all driving up to Michigan.  I drove the Bravada. John drove the U-Haul, mom and dad in their van.  We arrived in Marshall, Michigan around five thirty, we had to change and be in Lansing, an hour north by six for my  Grandmother's viewing.  Life is full of challenges.  Some days you breeze through them and not even realize what you have accomplished.

No Room for Traitors

Chappy had forgotten what the attraction was when he first met me.  He loved that I was strong and independent. He loved that I stood for what I believed in.  I was not one to follow the troops just because some one said I had to, I lead the troop, even if I were the only one in it. 

My mother will tell you I came out of the womb questioning authority and my first spoken word was, "Why?"

She responded with, "Because, I said so."

And I said, "Who are you?"

"I am your Mother!" I have questioned her every day since.

Knowing that, one would think that he wouldn't try to overstep the boundary that I had set. But he had to challenge me.  He wanted to see if I was as strong outside of the mediation room as I was inside of it. He knew I was strong, but he had seen the weak side of me and that is where he needed me to be so that he could move on without guilt.

When you are leaving someone, you have guilt. The severity of it depends on whether the person leaving has a conscious. Leaving requires strength especially if you are leaving a situation of control, abuse or with children. You still fear the unknown and you still question whether you are doing the right thing, but by the time you are walking out of that door, you have been processing this for months, some times years and you have worked through most of the emotions. That is how you can appear to be so calloused and uncaring, you have processed the information to leave, you have plotted as to how you will carry it out, you have prepared for where you are headed, all that is left is to execute the plan and walk away from those you have just shattered with your news.

He arrived that day to pick up his things.  I had moved the furniture as close to the door as I could have. I had placed all his boxes on the screened in porch.  I had shut all the blinds so that he could not  peer in. I did not greet him like an old friend.  I waited for him to arrive and I took charge of the situation. 

To control how you are treated by another, you have to take control. Life is like a game of chess. Each move is critical as to how others will respond.  When you are among people whom you can trust and who love you, you move freely as there is no fear, but when you are challenged by some one who is out to hurt you or gain from you, you must always plan carefully and execute precisely.

By allowing him to approach the front door, I am allowing him the opportunity to look inside my world. By meeting him in the driveway as he pulls up, I have taken control of how far he can proceed beyond any given point.  I can steer him to the screened in porch to gather his boxes and while he is busy packing those, I can steer the two thugs to the front door that is out of his view to remove the furniture. I can steer all of them back to the truck and walk away closing the door on this chapter of my life.

That is precisely what I did. I had allowed them twenty minutes to load and leave.  There would be no time to lolly gag around for chit chat.  I had lead Chappy to the rear of the house to load his boxes and I brought the thugs to the front door. They had removed the couch and I was bringing a table to the stoop for them to carry to the truck, when Chappy appeared at the door.  That smirk dripping from his face. I had an end table with glass inserts in my  hands, "You need to back away from the door" and I kept walking toward him.

He had not entered, he was on the side walk looking inside.  He had been told to not come in the house.  I put the table on the porch and told him to take it to the truck, as I turned, I  reached for the  door to  partially close it so he could not see inside. I heard the sound of a hand stopping the door and turned to find his  arm extended holding the door from closing.  He still had not officially stepped in the house, but he was closer than five hundred feet.

I quickly turned and planted my feet firmly in the hallway, I was three or four steps from the door,  "I told you, you were not welcomed in my house, now turn around and walk away." There was nothing inviting about the tone of my voice.

The look on his face was that of a defiant child trying to see if I'd take a stance.  He was going to challenge me. He knew that if I said some thing to my attorney outlining boundaries, he was going to send the message that he wasn't listening. 

"YOUR house? I believe I'm paying the mortgage, this is my house and if I want to come inside, I will." He stepped inside the door frame! He was forcing my hand and I was going to have to pull out crazy Cindy!

I had been trained by the best, Killer had taught me to stand up tall and act like I owned the world, I firmed up my shoulders, jaw tightened and I headed toward him, "I told you to not step inside of my house. THIS is not  your house. You lost the right to claim it the day you started playing house under someone else's roof." I just kept moving toward him and he side stepped me.

"So now  you want to dance? I stepped in front of him again and was less than a foot in front of him, "Get out of my house, NOW!" That defiant child went to take one more step and I was in his face, not on purpose, I had expected him to stop, but we both took a step forward and there I was, in his face.

"I am going to say this one more time, get out of my house or I will call the police." He leaned over to his right, peeking inside of the family room, the large bouquet of flowers perched on the television set.

He retreated, the smirk gone, the defiance absent from his face, turning toward the door, "I wanted to be sure you packed my speakers, you aren't going to win at this..." and he walked out.  I closed and  locked the door.

Silently under my breath, "Oh you think so?" Snickering at the thought of him opening the boxes that were marked Bose speakers when he reached his destination in Boston, laughing at the anticipated look of surprise when he realized, in side the box was another box, marked refurbished. Ah, the smell of victory, "Ah, Mr. Schafer, you are wrong once more, I have already won."

I moved toward the kitchen, the screened in porch was attached, walking out the back door on to the deck, he was removing the boxes.  I stood there, Precious at my feet. Chappy had shaved off his moustache. I had never seen him without one. He called for Precious to "come." She sat there, next to  me, staring at him.  He leaned down and called for her again, she sat next to me. He attempted several times to get her to come to him so he could say good bye or pet her, but she sat at my feet.  I didn't tell her to stay.

"She probably doesn't recognize me without my moustache" he stated trying to convince himself that was the reason for rejection.

"Yeah, I don't think that is it.  She's a very smart dog. She knows an asshole with or without his moustache, but she also knows loyalty, unlike the asshole she is looking at now."  I opened the door, snapped my fingers and pointed, she got up and went inside.  We didn't care about him any longer, we had each other.  No room in our hearts for traitors.

Challenges Are God's Way of Keeping you Alert

The house was sold. I had thirty days to move out. We were still negotiating the terms of the settlement. Chappy was holding out with hopes that I would find a "real job" and he'd be relieved of the monthly stroke of his Montblanc writing instrument to paper, providing me yet another month of manicures, pedicures, groomed dogs and highlighted curls.

Until the divorce was settled though I could not seriously job hunt. My desire to go to interior design school was no longer an option. I had to prepare for the future, providing for myself once more. Not having any idea where I was going to land, I had to keep my options opened. I wanted to return to Indianapolis but the insurance job market there had plummeted since I had resigned two and a half years ago. I was discovering securing a job was not going to be an easy task.  Although I had over twenty two years of experience, had worked my way up the ladder from a secretary in a small agency to a claims manager, the response to interviews were always the same, "You've been out of the business to long."

Twenty Two years I had been in the business.  I had experience in clerical functions, training, adjusting, management and litigation.  I had handled catastrophic injuries, mediated litigated claims, prepared claims for trial, negotiated settlements. I knew how fee schedules worked,  how a medical bill  was coded and processed. I could read a medical report and tell you what bone had been broken, what surgery was required, how long it would take to recover and how much it was going to cost. I could read a report after your MRI and know whether you  would be having surgery or placed in physical therapy.  Hell, I could diagnose your problem for you, tell you what over the counter drugs to take as well as what physical therapy modalities to do to relieve you of your pain by you telling me what your symptoms were without charging you a large fee and without the price tag of medical school. I knew ergonomics, how to evaluate a job site and adjust certain tasks to cut down on repeated injuries. I had adjusted claims in over twenty seven different jurisdictions. I had a lot of experience.  I had been gone twenty four months when Chappy walked out of the house and I knew I would have to return to claims work.

Technology changes, legislation may update itself once a year, but the basics of adjusting a claim never changes. Yet I was being told I had been out of the business too long.  It wasn't like it had been twenty years ago and I had no idea what a word document was. I wasn't going to walk in to an office, slap my forehead and be in awe of this new contraption that sent a document through the phone lines instantly to another number.  I wasn't going to be looking for the mimeograph paper when I wanted to copy some thing.  I wasn't looking for my trusty Royal typewriter ribbon so I could hen peck a letter to Johnny Fell of the Ladder Again, telling him that his blood alcohol level was off the chart and he was not entitled to "Workman's Compensation."  I at least had that going for me! But the excuse was always the same.

The man sitting in the big chair at Crawford had retired and been asked to come back and help save the company. Here is a man who was heading up a multi-million dollar company that would sit in his office and stare at the telephone lines, wondering how hitting this button labeled "send" could transmit the message in seconds to another machine half way around the world. He pondered whether new telephone lines had to be strung to accommodate all that information on the telephonic highway insuring it was delivered to the correct address.

 He challenged his Chief Operating Officer one day to explain to him how it was more efficient to have a "directory" on the "Intranet" for people in the company when all he  had to do was slide a bar down a metal box to the letter he wanted, hit the lever and shazam, he had a name, number and address. Mr. COO was still waiting for the computer to turn on. Now there is a person who had been out of the industry to long!

I was considering moving back to Michigan if I could not find employment in Indiana. But first, I had thirty days to move my life to a new destination.

I started with a garage sale. I was not going to pay and have these large household items stored for who knows how long. I had a new philosophy, when in doubt, buy new.  I didn't want the furniture that we had bought as newlyweds, so I sold it to my partner in crime.  I didn't want the solid oak dining room table and chairs.  The chair alone would give you a double hernia trying to pull it out from the table, imagine the challenge trying to push yourself away from the table! I sold the lamps and pictures as I had a new stash waiting at Lorna's house, courtesy of my husband who was silently pilfering from under my nose.  He never knew I had charged all of these new items for my new life and he paid for them! Too bad he shut that credit card down, I was not done shopping yet.  But he paid me plenty each month that I could get what I wanted without going in to debt.

I sold lawn equipment, computer desks, dressers, towels, bedding, you name it, I sold it.  I kept the fifty inch big screen television that we had bought when we moved to Illinois.  I kept the stereo that had been mine before we were married.  I kept the Bose speakers that he had wanted, but was given a pair of less quality. I kept the mattress and bedroom furniture as I had purchased the furniture shortly before we were married and the mattress was not that old. 

When Chappy and I had moved before, we filled a semi truck.  This time, I filled half of one, but I had plenty of money in my pocket to buy new once I landed where ever I was headed. 

I needed Chappy to come pick up his belongings. He had taken the love seat and chair from the furniture that we had bought from his parents, but the couch needed to be picked up along with other assorted boxes that included the speakers and Christmas tree he had demanded.

I gave Mr. King two different days that Chappy could come over with Two Thugs and a Toyota Moving Company.  I made it very clear that he was to inform Mr. Schafer, the thugs could enter the house, but he was not to set foot in it. Besides the obvious reasons, John had sent me a huge bouquet of flowers to congratulate me on the sale of the house. Bitter women would have   allowed their husband to come in and bragged about the flowers being in the way all the time.  Vengeful women? We are silent. We process the proof that we have gathered that has supported a wrong doing toward us.  We plot our plan to pay back those who have betrayed us and then, we piss on your parade, when you least expect it. I had just exited the process phase. I was entering the plotting of a plan stage. 

Incentive Pay for selling the house? Count me in!

Within the week, Mr. King had received a counter demand. The cover letter reminded me of Chappy, passive-aggressive. She alluded to the fact that I had ambushed them. They had chosen to not "sling mud" and were "highly disappointed in my misrepresentation of fact." I had misconstrued the relationship that Chappy had with Courtney in early 2000. He had not been involved with her and to this day, the relationship was "purely platonic."

I was guessing this meant that they were not intimate? Although I found that hard to believe after reading email exchanges between them.  I was wondering what the man in the big chair would think if he happened to fall upon these exchanges that were shared on the company email? Most companies have policies about personal use and definitely one  could come to the conclusion sexual harassment was being played out here, since he was her superior and it appeared sexual favors were being traded.

He rejected most of my demands.  I expected he would.  That is the art of negotiation, ask for more than you want and negotiate down to what you expected. I read the response in Mr. King's office.  He was explaining how "we" would respond.

At this point, my retainer was being eaten up in non-productive meetings.  I needed him for things that I could not handle myself.  "I will respond directly with his attorney and copy you in on it."  He understood at this point, that I was fully capable of handing this matter. I needed him for legal filings and apparently an address for Chappy's attorney to send documentation.

The house had been on the market since October.  I had a least one showing per day, if not more.  It was a very active piece of property. I was in no hurry to sell it.  As long as the house was on the market, I could live there. I still had not decided where I was headed.  The divorce was not final and we were still in negotiations, my lack of a "real job" made my settlement worth more.

Chappy left the sale of the home in my hands once more.  I had met with the Realtor when the house was put on the market and informed her that I was in no hurry to accept just any offer. I had calculated the price we had paid for it  the year before.  The value of the home had appreciated not only because the subdivision had been completed, but I had made several improvements to the property that would add value to prospective buyers.  I made it clear that I intended on selling the home for full price and I did  not expect to lower the price within a month of listing it.  We were entering a slow season and I would not be reducing the asking price because she couldn't get traffic in the house at the holidays.  In the long run, that had not been an issue, there was plenty of traffic in and out of the home.  There were several offers, but potential buyers had been informed the "couple selling were divorcing." In a normal world, this means they are desperate and willing to take anything offered.  I was offended by most if not all offers.  They would low ball the asking price by fifteen to forty thousand dollars! 

The mediation was in early December 2000, Chappy was spending a considerable amount of time in Boston.  He continued to pay me five thousand a month as we were still negotiating the terms of the divorce. He had to pay rent and utilities on his apartment as well and for the most part, he was not living there. He was living out of a suitcase in Boston. Chappy was anxious to sell the house.  In that first counter offer from his attorney, he offered me an additional five thousand dollars if I sold the house no later than January 30, 2001.  I had incentive now, but I still would not accept any thing lower than the asking price.

Christmas 2000

He had called the agent to find out if there had been offers  made and she informed him that there had been multiple offers on the property, but that I had refused them.  In my defense she did mention the offers were insulting and that the home was showing daily.  That is when he placed the incentive on the table.

My parents came up to Alpharetta for Christmas that year. It was the first Christmas I had spent with them in ten years. I had met my cousin's friend, John.  I had flown home one weekend for the sole purpose of meeting him.

Like Michael, I knew he was a stepping stone.  While I enjoyed spending time with him, I could not envision a lifetime with him. He was a blend of every man I had been with and at the moment, there wasn't one of them that I would have selected to be involved with again.

Russian Mail Order Bride

John worked for the Department of Defense. He spoke several languages fluently and was used in training of foreign diplomats. His oldest son was  in college and his youngest was a senior in high school who had been accepted at West Point.  You would have never guessed  these two boys were the sons of John.  They were night and day.

John was the only man I have ever known to take longer to get ready than a woman. He had a routine and he could not skip one step if we were in a hurry.  He is the only man that I have known who had manicures every other week and wore clear nail polish. Long before the term metro sexual was so widely known, John was the walking example of a high maintenance male.

What I found interesting about him was that he and I had a common bond, divorce and betrayal by our spouses.  He had spent several years in therapy and was still actively attending on a monthly basis when I first met him and then tapered to an as need basis.  When I left, he returned to weekly sessions.

New Years 2001

He came down for New Year's to celebrate. I had my partner in crime from high school over, her children, John and the woman I worked with at Penney's who was the Russian Mail Order Bride and her husband.

We had a nice evening. I was trying to return to normal in a world that was far from it.  I was in a battle with Chappy's attorney over the division of property.  She and I were good at writing letters full of wit and sarcasm.

We came to an agreement that I could live with.  I was to be paid five thousand per month until the divorce was settled.  Then my stipend was reduced to forty five hundred a month for the first year.  Four thousand a month for the second year and three thousand per month for the third year and two thousand a month for the first six months of the fourth year. I was going to be around for a long time in Chappy's financial world. He was also to reimburse me the monies I had spent in legal fees.

My move, once the house was sold, would be fully funded by his employer. In previous years, this ran between sixteen thousand to twenty thousand per move.  The last two moves, the government had tacked that on to the employee's annual earnings and taxes had to be paid.  That would be Chappy's responsibility as well. I received half of his stock portfolio, half of his pension, half of the stock options, half of his 401K, half of all points earned on airlines and credit cards. He had to provide health insurance until I found employment providing same. He was to pay the entire tax bill due for 2000 and 2001. I was granted the Bravada.  I would keep all household possessions with the exception of, the ceramic Christmas tree his mother had made for him. The Bose speakers (he had won being in the top 20 of sales). He wanted two more plates, cups, glasses and flatware to round out the two I had previously given him. He wanted the Muhammad Ali framed photo I had bought him for Christmas one year that had been signed by The Greatest himself. In addition to what he had already taken when he moved, he still wanted a television set.  We had four.  I could have given him one, but it was worth a dime or two at the time.

I have a back ground in homeowner claims as well and when there is a homeowner loss, serial numbers and descriptions are essential in identifying property.  The list provided by his attorney stated, Bose speakers. They did not describe them. The list did not note serial numbers, it merely stated Bose speakers.  The speakers he had won were top of the line.  The speakers he was given, were refurbished. I had visited the Bose outlet store and bought a set of the cheapest speakers they had, refurbished.  I boxed and taped them in the box the original speakers were shipped to us in. How I wanted to be a fly on the wall when he opened that box up in Boston!

The ceramic Christmas tree, with little plastic parts that you inserted into the tree itself and appeared to be lights on the tree. Well, I couldn't break it, it was a gift from his mother, but the little bags of "plastic lights" and star that sat on the top of this tree, some how disappeared.  I'm really not sure where those little tiny parts ended up, but they were not in the box with the ceramic tree. Hard little buggers to find as they don't sell those parts or at least they didn't back in 2000. The television set, again, no description, no serial number, just television, didn't even mention what room  it may have been located in, so I grabbed the one in the first bedroom, it was tiny, only thirteen inches.  The big screen is what he wanted, the little screen is what he got.

I sold the house January 30, 2001. I had two bids on the table, both for the asking price.  One offer was returned for $5000 over the asking price.  So, that seemed to work in my favor as well.  I was getting half of the equity. In addition, I was getting twenty thousand of Chappy's cut,  as that is what I had in the first house we sold, that I had bought prior to our marriage. Now, I just made another five thousand for selling the house by January 31 and splitting the additional five thousand for selling it over list. Things were looking pretty good so far.

Divorce drives you to do things that normally you would never do, but that line is drawn in the sand and you refuse to budge.  Material things that you don't even want, you want. Money is not going to buy you happiness, but you are bound and determined that he is not going to buy happiness for himself or his mistress,so you want it all. In the end, it is not about who did what to whom. It is about what you walked away with.  

When Killer and I divorced, I wanted nothing. The clothes on my back.  I walked into that marriage with more than I walked out, but I wanted my dignity back. I wanted to be free of any thing that reminded me of Killer. I wanted a fresh start. Could I have walked away with more"? Yes, but I wanted out. There was nothing in that house that I could  not walk away from to include my husband. There was nothing in that relationship that defined who I was. I was a possession of Killer's. Humans should not be possessions.

I only had to figure out where I was going to work and where I was going to live once the divorce was final,

You Need to Make Her Whole Again

We walked back into the room.  The Mediator sat there for a minute than turned to Chappy, "Mr. Schafer,  I have been doing this for many years and there is one constant that I can count on.  That men like you continually walk through those doors and the story remains the same.  They marry a woman who was good enough for them until they started earning six figures, than that woman who stood by them for all of those years, doesn't look as beautiful as the young girl that is flirting with him, because she has her eye on the wallet nothing more, but every time, men fall for it and they walk away from a woman who would have given them the world on a platter.  You don't understand this, but we'll see the same men coming through that door, as they never learn."

He sat there with a smirk on his face, cocky, as if he held all the cards. She didn't care, she continued, "The women that they marry hold on to hope.  I understand from talking with Mrs. Schafer that the last time the two of you were here, you told her to never forget how much you loved her, yet here we are today, the two of you have grown apart or so you say. Mrs. Schafer has been shattered by this news and you have moved on."

He started to say some thing, but she cut him off. "Mr. Schafer, we heard your story, now it is my turn. There is no denying that you have betrayed your wife and according to you, only because you grew apart.  I did not hear you  mention that you tried to resolve that issue with Mrs. Schafer, in fact up to today, she had no idea of the whys. What I see, is that you found some thing that you think is shinier and you decided to follow that.  I have a better understanding of couples that appear before me that have exhausted every avenue to save their marriage and they have grown apart, but you never gave it a chance.  It is rare that I find those couples though earning six figures collectively, let alone just one of them.  So that sets you into a whole other class, you feel entitled."

Wow! I sat there and listened to her just lay it out there, she was not buying his story at all. He did not like being spoken to in the manner in which she was addressing him and I was loving every minute of it.

"For a man that is thirty-seven years old, you've accomplished a great deal, but you have so much more to learn about life.  One is you are not entitled to treat women the way that you do and two, as you have experienced, those who rise, will fall, how hard they fall depends upon their integrity."

I sat there listening to her, wishing Min  were sitting next to Chappy instead of his attorney.  I knew Min would interrupt and try to get her two cents in to defend her son, but how I would have loved to have Min see her son dressed down. "Mr. Schafer, what I have not seen in this room, is a woman as strong as Mrs. Schafer.  She came to this hearing prepared as you have witnessed. I have never had a woman present her own case without emotions taking over and her unable to at times even speak.  That is why I cautioned Mrs. Schafer earlier. The women who sit in that chair that she is in, hold on to hope and they cave in.  I can not help them if they agree to accepting less than what they are entitled to, but Mrs. Schafer, she is not one of those women."

I can't believe I was able to sit there and not shed a tear.  I was void of all emotion.  I actually didn't even hate him, I just felt sorry for what he had allowed to come between us.

"I generally leave the hearing with assignments, both parties scheduling to come back to discuss the division of property, but Mrs. Schafer had prepared for that as well."

My attorney looked at me. He did not know that I had written up my demands. I had not shared them with him.

"I have asked my clerk to make a copy of Mrs. Schafer's demands.  They seem very reasonable and I would encourage you to consider every thing  she has on here.  I am confident your attorney will inform you, given the facts that were presented today, your chances to secure more,  in front of a Judge may not be as lucrative as what  you may work out now with Mrs. Schafer. If you are not able to come to an agreement on the terms she has presented, the two of you may come back here, or you may pursue this in the court room. Do you understand what I have said to you today?"

He didn't hesitate, the tone of voice filled with anger, "Yes."

"Mr. Schafer, I will leave on this note, you were the cause of Mrs. Schafer's depression that you presented as a weakness of hers.  I do not see weakness in her.  You shattered her.  I recommend that you meet her demands and make her whole again." She rose from her chair, nodding at Chappy's attorney and turned to me.

"Mrs. Schafer, again, if there is  any thing that I can assist you will, have Mr. King contact me.  I wish I saw more women like you in here. Best of luck." She extended her hand and I shook it.

"Thank you." I didn't know what else to say. Had I been sitting in Chappy's seat, I'd have sworn he bought her off, but I merely prepared myself for the fight of my life and I might just have pulled it off.

Chappy and his attorney gathered there things and headed out the door.  I sat  there still absorbing what the mediator has said. Mr.King congratulated me on the presentation.  "I have to say, I had doubts.  I have never seen you like you were today.  I thought for sure I would have had to step in to help you."

I smiled. "Never underestimate the power of a woman. When do you expect we will hear back from them with regard to my demands?"

"She didn't put a date on it, I'll follow up tomorrow and inform them we want to hear back in two weeks? Do you think that will suffice?"

"I am thinking he made the decision to have an affair quicker than that, I don't need to give him more time to respond.  Give him one week."  I stood up and gathered my things.  I had given Chappy enough time to exit the building.  I walked to my car and drove home.  Life went on.  I only had to wait to here from him to figure out how long I had for my new life to begin.

The Demand is Simple, I want it All

I had finished my presentation.  I laid it out there before this mediator. This was much more complex than, "we grew apart." I had started to question whether we had ever been together to grow apart. We had always been separated by miles or State lines. Eight years is a long time to be married, yet alone. Chappy had told me that he had been thinking of leaving when we were in Indiana.  I am going to assume for another woman, as history continually repeats itself, but he had this need to compete against a man that he had never met and that I had long forgotten, Killer. Killer and I were married on paper for just shy of seven years.  Chappy had to  one up him.  How do I know? In the discussion the day we sat in the master bathroom, I told him divorce is not civil, it is messy and once the line is drawn in the sand, it gets very complicated.  Off the cuff, he remarked, "I lasted longer than Killer, I had thought about leaving while we still lived in Indiana." So glad he waited, he wasn't worth that much at that time in our life and Indiana law would have limited just what I could get.

The mediator made a few final notes and asked me to step out into the vestibule with her.  Mr. King stood up to follow, "Mr. King, I would like to talk to Mrs. Schafer alone.  She presented her case without your assistance and I think she is capable of having a discussion with me without you, is that OK with you, Mrs. Schafer."

"Yes."  I got up to leave.  Wondering what she wanted to talk to me in private for.  I could not imagine she was going to deliver news that she regrettably was going to side with Mr. Schafer. I gathered my things and stood tall as I had nothing to be ashamed of. I had presented the facts, supported by documents that he left in the paper trail.  He presented nothing substantial except he was weak and knew nothing about commitment.

As I entered the vestibule and closed the door behind me, the Mediator congratulated me. "It is rare you see a spouse come to a hearing so well prepared. What has your training been?"

"I used to investigate insurance claims and  handle the litigation matters.  I have been trained to prepare a claim for trial."

"You did an outstanding job and should be congratulated. May I ask what the salary is Mr. Schafer earned at the time this all started?"

I told her and she in return wanted to know what I had earned when we were married.  She asked me what I had to give up to follow him every time we moved  I was unsure of what she was looking for, but she simplified it, "What have you compromised to be with this man.  I see a woman who has given up a career for his, what else have you done?"

I reached into my briefcase. I had not expected her to ask me this question, but I had asked myself this same question recently.  What had I given up in my life to be with this man and what had I gotten in return? I handed her the list. She was quite surprised that I was that prepared! The list was quite extensive.  I had given up holidays with my family. Seniority with jobs.  Pension with the State. I had taken salary cuts to move with him and had to prove myself over and over with every new employer.  Every time we moved I was the one that stayed to sell the house, coordinate the move, unpack, settle in, he was never a part of that so he didn't understand how stressful it could be.  Inventorying the household goods so that if claims had to be filed they were done timely.  I gave up accrued vacation time when I sacrificed seniority, starting with two weeks every time I moved.  I would never stay some where long enough to accrue the weeks he had from staying with the same employer.

The list was endless, it ranged from important things that meant some thing to me to petty things, just because I wanted the list to be long so every time I looked at it, I hated him more. She and I sat in the vestibule for some time talking.  She said it sickened her to see this day in and day out, these men who reached a point in their life where they were in positions of power and wealth making the six figure salary with a woman "similar to yourself" who supported them, gave up on their own dreams and when they reached that magical age of forty, they dropped them for some young thing that was clueless of the sacrifices the woman before her had made but benefited from the riches that two had built, but one had maintained.

"I think you will do well, Mrs. Schafer. You are a strong women and you will find some one who will love you and be faithful some day.  You deserve better.  We can go back in and I'll wrap this up and then ask you to provide me a list of your demands. We should be able to wrap this up in the next couple of weeks and you'll be free to start living your life again." She got up to return to the room.

"Just a moment." I reached in the file of documents I had been gathering. "Here.  My list of demands. I think it covers every thing, but I need to add a few things that I had overlooked.  He will need to provide health insurances until I find employment that provides it and I want him to pay the retainer I had to pay Mr. King as well as any additional charges that have accrued."

She smiled, " I really like you Mrs. Schafer.  You have definitely given me hope that there are women out there who do not succumb to a man who holds that golden carrot.  Most come in here after their husband has told them how much he loves her still and in a weaken state, they are afraid to fight for what is theirs, as they are holding on to a thread of hope."

"Yes, he tried that the last time we were here.  I severed that thread of hope the next day when Mr. King gave me a large envelope of discovery that supported what I had thought all alone, when he told me I was crazy."

She was studying the list of demands.  Smiling and shaking her head.  "You didn't miss much, did you?" She really  liked the demand of taking half of his frequent flier points that he had built up flying around the country. "How did you think of that one?"

"I promised Chappy eight years ago that if  he screwed around on me, I'd take him for every dime he had.  I had to think of every thing that held any value.  Frequent flier miles will allow me to go on a much needed vacation after this is over.  And his American Express points, allow me to secure accommodations while I am on that trip."  I smiled.  Every dime and then some.

Karma - Nothing Says Victory like the Old Karma Bus hitting you broadside

After Chappy had made his announcement that he was dazed and confused, I realized at some point my life was going to change drastically once more.  I had not held a "real job" as he had defined for close to two years.  It was time to brush up the resume. I suggested to Chappy that I accompany him one Saturday that he decided to go into the office.  He did not want me to go, but I explained that I needed to type up a current resume and make copies for my job search.  He didn't have a problem with it now.

I had a plan, he just didn't realize how sharp on my toes I could be while appearing to be helpless and incapacitated by his betrayal.  His administrative assist's desk sat outside of his office, you would be amazed at what you can discover when you are sitting at that same desk, but she is home enjoying her weekend.

I acted as if I had no clue how to use this Windows program that allowed me to type and save my resume on to a disc. This allowed me more time to browse as he would think that I was struggling to construct this masterpiece which would allow me to return to the real world and he could move on without guilt.

I had brought a disc with  me to copy my resume on once I had typed it.  What he didn't know? I had typed it on the computer at home that had the same software.  I really just needed copies as we didn't have a printer at home.

As I sat there at Karen's desk, I searched for clues that would reveal this mysterious symptom my husband was suffering from, the "I'm not happy, not sure if I want to be married" symptom of an extramarital affair.

We lived in the South. One thing about those who are born and raised in the South, they are very kind, well mannered, yes, ma'am, no sir, kind of people. They attend church on a regular basis and come from close knit families.  They stick together and while they are human, they keep their skeletons in a closet.  Powerful men have mistresses all the time, but they are discreet and they certainly don't parade it around in the office.

Dennis, former President of Crawford was not from the South and his mistress worked at Crawford as well.  He made the mistake of parading her around and not caring what other's thought.  The man sitting in the big chair, was one hundred and ten percent Southern and he did not approve of the actions reported back to him after the trip to Bermuda.  Dennis was relieved of his duties as it was quite clear his focus had strayed from the company that once thrived with soaring stock prices  to plummeting pennies on the dollar. The paper the stock was printed on was worth more than the stock itself, as his focus turned to his latest acquisition, his mistress.

The rumors about this affair spread like wild fire among staff.  The support staff  fanned that flame as "she" had been one of them and held the position of his assistant.  "She" had promoted herself to a newly created position that no one really knew what her new responsibilities were.  Again, jealously is an emotion that feeds frenzy among those who think they are missing out or were overlooked.

Karen was Chappy's assistant.  She was a little older than I was and a true Southern lady. As I sat there at her desk, I noticed a spiral binder with the words "call log" imprinted on the cover.  I opened it up to discover the old pink return call form that was popular before voice mail was invented.  The unique feature of this spiral log was that it stored carbon copies of all telephone messages that were taken and passed on. Did I just find a gold mine here?  I opened the binder and started to browse recognizing many of the names printed in blue carbon.  One name in particular appeared over and over.

What raised my eye brow was that early on in this log, around January, the messages were simple, professionally documented, "Courtney Dewey" noting the caller, the time of the call and a simple box checked to return her call with a phone number where she could be reached.

As the month's passed, either Courtney's calls were not being returned or Karen had grown tired of this interruption that required her to take yet another message. The messages now reflected in large letters, printed across the from "Courtney Called!" with no return phone number noted. She seemed to call a little too often for an employee.  She either needed a lot of guidance from her superior or she was seeking guidance of another nature from her supervisor.   I pulled out my pocket size private eye spiral notebook that I kept in my purse for special occasions, just like this and  noted the exact dates of each call.  I risked being caught as my back was to the door where Chappy could exit any any given moment.

I quickly dropped it in the lovely Coach purse that my loving husband had bought for me, printed several copies of the resume on my disc and announced I was ready to go whenever he was.

Several weeks had passed by the time I had built up the courage to call Karen at work.  Remember it is all in the timing.  Chappy was out of the office as usual and I had just discovered the cell phone directory noting Courtney as "different" from his other staff.

Karen answered the phone and after some simple exchanges of pleasantries, I presented my concerns.  I revealed the recent office visit, the phone log, the conversation of Courtney being upset that Chappy didn't call her back immediately that Saturday that he was mowing the lawn and I was being self tutored on the ins and outs of cell phone directories.

She was quiet at first.  I was asking her to speak out of school with regard to her manager.  "Miss Cindy, I do not want to say any thing ill about Mr. Jack, but I do have my own suspicions and I have requested a transfer to another area.  I had so much respect for him, but he has changed as you have noticed."

Oh, a wave of nausea rolled over my stomach. "I am sorry to put you in this position, but you've said enough, thank you for your time." The call completed, the suspicions checked as confirmed, notations made in my journal.  Life went on.

After Chappy was demoted, I contacted Karen. I had kept in touch with her periodically, remembering her birthday with flowers and a card.  She no longer worked as Chappy's assistant, but she still worked there.

"Miss Karen, how are you?" Again, exchanging pleasantries and catching up on the latest with her grandchildren. After a short conversation, I asked, "Do you know what happened that Chappy was transferred to Boston?" 

I was no longer the wife of her manager, this conversation was woman to woman. She was discreet but she did allude to the "rumors" she had heard from fellow coworkers.  Chappy had placed Courtney in Denver originally and an opening in Tampa opened up in the Spring of 2000, their "romance" was beginning to bud, this happened to coincide with when he stopped sharing so much information with me about his newest addition to his staff.

An employee in the Southwest division wanted to transfer to the Southeast division as her grandson was terminally ill and she wanted to be closer to her daughter and grandson.   She was more than qualified for the position and had seniority over the other employee who had also applied at the encouragement of her direct supervisor.  The new employee had just been hired and did not possess the knowledge of the employee in the Southwest district.  The new employee was a "favorite" of the manager who directed the sales in that region. He, Chappy, transferred the new employee to Tampa.  I am confident it was two fold, one it was closer to home and two, Courtney's mother lived in Georgia and was ill. Courtney wanted to move closer to home, no different than the employee who wanted to move closer to a terminally ill grandson.

But in the world of business, this one move, crumbled a man who had worked hard to get where he was. It had cost him his marriage and it was now going to cost him his position in the home office.

The employee in the Southwest district had heard the rumor when she made an inquiry on why her request for transfer had been denied. She didn't take it sitting down, she stood up and made sure she was heard.  The news of the indiscretion traveled quickly from human resources to the office of the man sitting in the big chair.  He once more had to deal with an employee  who refused to keep his personal affairs out of the office.

There was one slight twist that had to be handled appropriately or the big man in the chair might come crashing down as well.  He had hired this woman himself.  She was the college room mate of his daughter who also worked for Crawford. It was a kind gesture not a calculated hire. Courtney did not have the experience to be in a larger market, the employee in the Southwest did.

The big  man dug a little deeper and apparently did not like what he found.  The big man liked Chappy, he did produce results, but this had to be addressed.  It was no different that what he had just addressed when he fired the President. He demoted Chappy three levels below where he currently sat. He fired the woman in Tampa and he transferred the woman in the Southwest district to the Tampa office.

There you had it.  Chappy was caught and he was lucky because of his job performance that he had a job.  He was transferred to Boston where the employee there had been suffering short timers disease and had stopped producing the business. He had his marching orders to increase the business or he'd be history as well.  Hence his statement that he was going to have to work harder to prove himself worthy that day we sat in the  cafe having breakfast so long ago.  Courtney was  unemployed with no where to go.

This occurred in late May or early June of 2000. He brought Courtney up to Atlanta in July after she was fired.  He had leased the apartment and she was living in it. That is when he decided to move into the spare bedroom. He moved a few weeks later.  He'd been taking things without my knowledge and moving them into the apartment that they would soon share.

He had to serve me divorce papers, he was in too deep to back out now.  She needed him.  He had placed her in this predicament with the encouragement of applying for the transfer. He was between a rock and a hard place as within weeks after moving, he had been forced to pay me a substantial monthly stipend which left him little to pay his own expenses and support his mistress.

Karma.  Patience. Timing. In the end, there is justice.  You may have a broken heart, but other's have it much worse than you.  You have to remember that when you hit rock bottom.

The Coffin is Closed, I just need to put a few more nails in it

When you are going to fight for your life, be prepared.  Check your emotions at the county line, you don't want them sneaking up on you without notice.  Dress to kill, because today, someone is going down and it won't be you.

Mr. King had called to confirm the date and time of the mediation.  As if he had to remind me to be there on time!  I ended the conversation as the Cindy Marie he had never met, "Don't be late this time. I paid you upfront to represent me and I expect you to be there for court on time, no excuses. I will see you tomorrow."

I arrived early. I didn't want to take a chance of running into traffic or unable to find a parking place, scurrying to the building appearing to be frazzled, no I was in complete control of every thing today. When you are presenting in front of a Judge, you want to appear to be professional, dark suits are common in the court room.  I wanted to stand out. I wore a beautiful red suit. The skirt fitted to every curve on  my body, three quarter length. The jacket, cut to enhance my trim waist and snug enough to allow the eye to see that I was all woman underneath.  Black patent leather heels, red and black print blouse, cut low enough to make the eye wander, but not to low,  with the finest of jewelry displayed.  Gifts of past from Chappy.  Thought he might want to see them one more time.  My Coach purse, another gift from Chappy when we moved the first time to Indiana and a little addition to my collection, thank you to the monthly stipend I had been receiving from Mr. Schafer, a new Coach briefcase. I'd have worn my fur, but it was a beautiful day in the South for December.

I met Mr. King on the third floor of the Fulton County Courthouse. I had no problem finding it this time.  I stood in the hallway waiting for his arrival, leaning against the wall, staring out onto the city.  The elevator opened  and Mr. Schafer exited.  There would be no common courtesty offered to him, a glance of recognition was all he was worth today. He knew the rules, no closer than five hundred feet. It wouldn't have mattered though if he did come closer, Cindy Marie was standing there today, not the emotional heartbroken wife he had left for another woman. I continued to  look out the window, I could see his reflection in the glass, watching me from a distance. What do you think of me now? Who has the upper hand today, Mr. Schafer?

Mr. King arrived first. He greeted me and ushered me into a private room so that we could review the events that were about to  unfold.  He opened his file and started to inform me of how he was going to present the case.  I reached across the table and closed his folder. "You need to be in that courtroom as a representative of me.  You are merely there as window dressing.  You will speak if his attorney gets out of line, otherwise, I will present this case, by myself."

"Cindy, I don't recommend that.  You have a lot riding on this mediation today and emotions can cloud judgement.  Remember the last time you were here?"

"Mr. King, I HAVE NEVER BEEN HERE.  That woman that was here a couple weeks ago is long gone.  I am the Cindy Marie Schafer that Chappy married eight years ago, that other woman, that was  Cindy Schafer, she died shortly after leaving your office September 28.  You will never see her again.  Who will present first?"

He looked at me in amazement. "I can't believe the transformation! From the woman who came into my office four months ago, not wanting to serve her husband for fear of embarrassing him, to the woman that sat here six weeks ago, in tears. Are you sure you are up to this?" 

"I have been waiting for this day since January 18, 2000 when he invited a woman to this marriage that was not at the alter. I am better prepared than you would ever be, you see, I lived this horror story and that man out there that is my husband, he fueled the fire that will feed my anger today and when I am done, that fire? Well, let's just say, his nuts will be roasted when I am done." 

He tilted his head, a grin spread across his face, "Mrs. Schafer, I fully believe you are more than capable of roasting nuts, shall we begin?"

We walked into the courtroom. Chappy and his attorney were already seated.  The mediator was an attractive woman, probably in her mid to late fifties.  She introduced herself and our attorneys introduced their clients to her.

Mr. King spoke first, "I was fully prepared to present Mrs. Schafer's case this afternoon, but we have just had a conference and she has informed me that she lived this night and day and she is fully prepared to present this matter in front of you today."

"Mrs. Schafer, do you understand the magnitude of issues that will be presented today? Are you sure you do not want Mr. King to present for you?"

"I am well aware of what lies ahead of me. I have lived it for the past year.  No one knows this better than I do.  I am the only person in this room, that fully understands the impact of the actions that lead to this hearing. I will present my side. Thank you for your consideration."

Chappy and his attorney were leaning in close to one another, whispering in each other's ears.  He sat upright in his chair, that smirk washing across his face.  He had no clue what he had just stepped into.

"My client has informed me that since Mrs. Schafer wishes to present her case, he will present his own case as well."

Oh this should be good.  I wish I could sell tickets to this side show.  He is going to present his case?  What does he have prepared? He just told his attorney he'd do this, so I am betting he'll be flying by the seat of his pants.

This is when I was happy that I didn't file first.  He who filed, had to present their case first. I was in the best seat of the house, I got to respond.  Let the games begin, Chappy!

I think you may have read this before, simple, simple little man.  He had no idea of  the  pit bull who sat across from him, foaming at the mouth, was preparing for her feast as he so kindly laid out his case.

"We grew apart. We were married eight years ago and my career had offered us many opportunities to move.  The first move was shortly after we were married and within months after the move, Cindy experienced depression. It was very difficult for her to move away. " Blah, blah, blah. " I was transferred again within nine months of moving and she didn't want to move because she feared the depression would set in again.  Her mother has depression. (Where did this come from?) So I agreed to commute between Illinois and Indiana for four years. She had taken a job in management and wanted to get some experience. I travel a lot for my work so it wasn't a problem if it were short term, but four years is a long time."  Blah, blah, blah. 

"I finally convinced her to move and she had to have this big house that again required me to drive quite a ways to the office. She wasn't working.  We had not lived together under the same roof for close to five years and it was difficult so I started traveling more and staying at the office late as I didn't want to come home.  She was so busy making this house "our home" that she neglected me and we grew apart.  We were no longer intimate and she had no desire to be. We weren't there very  long and I was promoted to Atlanta.  She moved down there and made sure when we bought this house that only my wages were used to apply for the mortgage.  I knew then that she had no intention of returning to work and I was working pretty much 24/7.  I became angry that she had no desire to work.  She spent her days making this house a home and taking the dog for walks, vacationing, visiting friends and family all the while, I stayed at home and took care of every thing.  It was just a matter of time, I still love her, but we just grew apart and I don't think we can make it work any longer."

That was it. He delivered it as if we had reached a point of two ships passing in the dark, unaware the other existed.  Grew apart? Not intimate? Never wanted to work?  I had to work these into my presentation, I was not expecting any of this to surface.  Loved how he threw the depression card out there, yeah, make sure they know I'm crazy, it will help my case, as you drove me there.

"Mrs. Schafer, do you have a response? I had been taking notes as he spoke. I wanted to be sure I got everything down from crazy to not being intimate.

"Yes."  I reached in my briefcase and produced several folders.  I provided one to the mediator, one to my attorney and the other to Chappy's attorney.

"If you will open the file I have just presented you, I would like you to follow along.  I have provided each of you a time line dating back to the summer of 1992, weeks before Chappy and I were to get married.  Please bear with me, you need a glimpse of our history to fully appreciate the road we have traveled to get us here."

"I will accept responsibility for all our moves as I was the one who encouraged Chappy to move from a dead end job to Crawford and Company.  Had I not endorsed him, the manager who was a friend of mine, would not have known he existed.  While he has worked very hard to get where he is today as Vice President of National Marketing, oh excuse me, you were demoted, I forgot, you are now a National Account Representative with Crawford?  Those promotions came with a hefty price tag.  Chappy was  never home as he entertained clients a lot after hours." I was very calm as I presented this.

"Prior to our wedding, we had "dated" for close to two years and all along I had this gut feeling that something was not right. I discovered a few weeks before we were to get married, this gut feeling had a name, her name was Vicki. My gut told me to not marry him but my heart overruled.  I promised him that if he ever were unfaithful to me, I would take him for all he is worth. And here we are today."

I was the bread winner when we were married and continued to be for several years.  Chappy came home in 1994 to inform me, not discuss with me, that we were moving to Indianapolis as he had been promoted.  He expected me to quit my career with the State and move, start over while he continued the same path he was on.  He left me in Michigan to take care of business and he came home on weekends. One would think our weekends would be celebrated as newly weds since we had not been married long and we'd been apart all week, but Chappy was married to me on paper, and in real life he was married to his job and his mother.  Every chance she had, she was there, butting in and he allowed it."

I had the Mediator's attention now.  Her eyes were fixated on me as I spoke.  Mr. King sat back in his chair, listening to my  presentation as if I were weaving the web to a fine novel.  Chappy though, he knew where this was going and the look on his face, priceless.  He'd had his turn up at the podium, it was now my turn and with each sentence the nails were being tapped into the coffin.

"I sold the house that I owned before we were married and the money I had invested in that house is what we used as a down payment on the house we bought in Indiana.  Chappy had nothing when I married him. When we moved to Indiana, he was never home as he continued to entertain clients.  If he had a Saturday that his mom wasn't going to be there, he was golfing with his female boss, they were close, so close they referred to him as "her boy toy." What woman wouldn't fall into depression?  I gave up everything to follow him and he could not cut the apron strings from his mother nor give up friendships with other women."  Threw out the bait, I had them now.

"I found a job and started within weeks of the move. I took a significant pay cut and while I was learning that job,  Chappy was traveling, leaving me to unpack and get us settled in our house. I continued to look for employment to return me to the salary I was making prior to our move.  I took a job as a supervisor, but still had not attained the level I had when we moved.  It took me  some time. I needed to gain experience in management if I wanted to stay in that field and job hopping as I had been doing since we moved, would not look favorable to future employers."

"You have to understand that Chappy chose to not be home. He could have worked from home, but he chose to live out of a hotel for close to four years.  This may have been because he had a woman in Chicago.  I came across this innocently one evening as I was emptying his pockets and found the key to her apartment."  I elaborated on the "friendship" and his explanation for having the key that he never returned. The mediator now had an expression on her face similar to Chappy, pissed! Her once relaxed face had stiffened.

"Chappy had always expressed a goal to reach a position that I no longer had to work in insurance and could do what I wanted to, whether that was work or some thing else. Another reason I did not want to move to Illinois is I knew we would be headed to Atlanta. He was on the fast track.  Moving to Illinois was not financially wise for us.  The cost of living was thirty three percent higher and Chappy failed to inform you, with the first two promotions, he was either not given a salary increase or when he was promoted to Illinois, not significant to cover the cost of living."

"He won a trip to Bermuda for being in the top twenty salesman for the company and after spending a week with the President and his mistress, Chappy was disgusted by his lack of morals and promised me that he'd never move to Atlanta, so we chose to move to Illinois."

"I had made it clear since once again I was left behind to sell, pack and move us, that I did not want to hit the ground working and unpacking again. We agreed to this, but as I unpacked that last box, he was promoted to Atlanta. Again, with each promotion he never opened it up to discussion, he accepted it without considering my future."

The mediator was taking copious notes as I spoke.  The tension on Chappy's face could have cracked walnuts.  The attorneys sat and listened as I continued to walk them through my time line.

"I sold the house in Naperville for a profit after living there just five months.  Chappy had only lived there for two.  When I moved to Atlanta, every thing we owned was in storage. We lived in a one bedroom apartment and Chappy omitted this, I did work.  I am not a morning person, but I was up before the sun rose and I racked magazines and paperbacks at Publix and then I took off and managed the construction of our home.  It should be noted that at this point, Chappy had informed me that  he was earning enough that I did not have to return to work, he encouraged me to find some thing I enjoyed."

"I enjoyed making our house a home.  For the first time in seven years we were living in the same State under the same roof and  it appeared this was where we would stay.  But, he is wrong again, I had a job.  I was bored. Chappy was never home, so I worked nights.  Again, if I didn't want to work, early mornings and the night shift would not have been the path I chose.  I could have just stayed home."

"Earlier this year, I noticed a significant change in his behavior and I started tracking these changes in a diary.  By my fortieth birthday, I had lost significant weight in the few weeks prior as well as experiencing tremendous jaw pain.  The doctors suggested it was stress, but I did not want to believe them when they suggested my  husband might be having an affair. Chappy came home on my birthday to announce that he was unhappy and not sure if he wanted to be married.  I had always joked with him that he would do this to me and it came true. He swore there was not another woman. He refused to seek counseling."

Grabbed the bait, time to reel it in, everyone with the exception of Chappy was on full alert.  I pulled out the big guns. "If you will, please turn the page and you will find the documents to support the relationship Chappy was having with a woman who reported to him. I refer you to exhibit one, the first clue that I found, that supported another woman was involved.." and I pulled out the hotel receipt.  I explained the room service charge for two dinners, a glass of wine, a diet coke and two pieces of chocolate cake."  If Chappy's blood pressure was high now, hang on, cause it was going to sky rocket.

I covered every thing. The missed planes noted in my diary that corresponded with rendezvous in Lutz, Florida where his mistress lived. "It would appear to me that Mr. Schafer is quite tanned today, I'm betting he probably just returned from a week in the sun with Courtney, that is her name now, isn't it Chappy?"

I touched on the last minute trip as I was leaving for Indiana, noting he did not want me to call, because he was spending the week with his mistress.  I spoke of the "trial separation" only to discover within the week, he had me served papers with no intent of working on this marriage.

I left no stone unturned  when I presented our story. But now, I had to present the rest of the story.  The story that presented itself after the discovery had been presented.

"I want to touch briefly on some things that Mr. Schafer brought to the table, before I proceed, if that is OK with everyone here?" All heads nodded, except Chappy. His face was tanned, but it was turning  red from the anger that lurked within.  He presented his case, he would not have the option to respond again.

"While I wanted to remain professional and present the facts as to why we are here, Chappy has opened the door to a private matter that needs to be responded to. I leaned in toward the table, I was going to make a point and I wanted him to look me in the eye when I made it.

"It does not surprise me that Chappy would use the "intimacy' card as a means to seek pity, but you are very wrong! We were very intimate. Had I known you were going to stoop this low, I'd have had witness statements to support how intimate we were.  To include your own mother who thought we were just a little to touchy feely for her. Friends who upon learning of our separation found it difficult to believe "the happy" couple who could not keep their hands to themselves were divorcing. We were very intimate to the last time we were here, walking to the hearing hand in hand, hugging and kissing, what we were not, was sexual!  It is pretty damn hard to have sex with your husband when he is never under the same roof, let alone the same state."

"And if you haven't figured it out by now, you don't just fly in for a day for me to do your laundry, iron your shirts, fuck your brains out and watch you fly back out to where ever the hell you were going!  And let's not forget the number of women I competed with for your attention. No, Chappy, you are way off base on that one, we were very intimate, we just didn't fuck."

You could have heard a pin drop the room was so quiet. He pushed his chair back from the table and dropped his head.  I must have made my point. He was ashamed of what I just threw out on the table.  He tried to sugar coat it, I sucked that sugar off of it and spit it in his face! "Now, let's move on to the documentation you have failed to present to the court today.  You were served interrogatories that you and your attorney were to respond to and I am missing some documents.  There are three stock options that were not included in the packet you provided to me to me. Are you trying to hide assets?"

His attorney perked up on that little morsel.  "The records I was able to uncover show stock option certificates dated, blah, blah and blah were not included in the package.  From my research these are not payable yet and so they would be subject to the asset search outlined in the interrogatories, that is correct, isn't it Mr. King?" 

This high priced attorney who is supposed to be representing me, sleeping on the job, "Yes, if they have not been cashed prior to the filing, he would have to present you with the documents."

He and his attorney whispering among themselves. Chappy clueless as he had no idea what we had, I took care of all of that.

"My client stated that he is not aware of any stock options with those dates. He is confident that he has responded to the interrogatories and is not hiding any assets that he is aware of."

I had the certificates. They had been in the safe.  I had made copies as I didn't want them to know I held the originals. "These are copies that I discovered while researching the documents you provided.  Apparently he has omitted them with hopes of keeping them from the division of property.  While they hold no value today and Crawford's stock has taken a nose dive in the last year, they do hold some value in the future.  You are sure you over looked these and just didn't hide them from me?  I wouldn't put it past you since you closed our Visa and bank accounts without my knowledge as well."

The mediator's ears perked up on that one, "Excuse me, you closed the bank account without her knowledge?  What happened to the money that was in these accounts?"

Chappy was being dragged across the coals and he knew it. He sat upright as he looked at the mediator, "I was informed to close the accounts before she did. I gave her half of what was in there, she has not gone hungry nor is she broke, I've taken care of her."

The mediator looked at him, no sympathy for him, "Mr. Schafer, who told you to close the bank account? Your attorney?" She turned to the attorney, ready to take issue with her if that is where the directive came from.

"I did not inform him to close any bank accounts."

Cat must have had Chappy's tongue as he still had not responded. "Mr. Schafer, who told you to close the accounts?"

"I don't remember, it was some time ago."

"Chappy, it wasn't that long ago, July 15, I came home and you handed me a check for what you said was half, but I don't really know if it was actually half of what was in there."

The mediator, making more notations on her legal pad.  She was scribbling like a mad woman the whole time we were in there. He glared at me. I had set him up and he was none too happy with how he was being portrayed in this room.

I finished my presentation with a few more facts about his relationship with Courtney. "I am concerned that Chappy will not have the means to continue paying the monies I require to live each month as I fear he has placed himself in a position that may result in his termination with the company, it has already cost him a significant demotion." I hit the nail that he had no idea I knew about. It pays off eventually to be nice to the administrative assistants that report directly to your husband. The air became thick as I carefully laid the ground work to expose the real reason Chappy had been removed from his position of power.