The day had arrived for Chappy to move out. I had helped pack him when he was at work. As I have said, nicest person in the world, until you cross me. He did say this was a "trial separation." I was going on his word, we would live apart and work on this marriage.
I knew there were certain things that Chappy did not like at all. One was a cotton thermal blanket. I packed it, so he'd have a blanket to keep him warm.
We had four beds, I could have given him the bedding that was suitable for a man, I packed the queen size pink comforter. I gave him two plates, two bowls, two forks, spoons and knives. One to use, one to wash. He ate out most of the time any way. I gave him one pot, the smallest one I could find. He'd be cooking for one, he didn't need any thing larger.
We had bought some furniture that he liked that belonged to his parents when we got married, I hated it. It was uncomfortable. I offered that to him, without an argument. I could have kept it and sold it later, but I was trying to appear to be caring.
As I was going through all the cubby holes that had been built in the spare spaces of the house, I noticed he'd already been packing. The "attic" storage in each room had been neatly organized and things were packed that were similar in nature so I could find them easily. One cubby in a spare room had trinkets from Chappy's past. As I opened that door to retrieve those items that he might use, such as a cowboy lamp from his youth which I thought would look smashing with the pink bedspread, I noticed it was gone. It was easily detected as I had placed it on a shelf and the spot where it had been stored, was free of dust.
So, he'd been moving for some time apparently without my knowledge as this stuff didn't walk out of the door when I was there. I mentioned it to him and he admitted he'd been slowly taking things over time, he'd had this apartment longer than I had known about it.
The movers backed the truck up in the neighbors drive way so they could access the garage door in the basement. Chappy's desk with the marble top was down that and it was heavy! As they were putting boxes in the truck, Chappy started packing up the power tools that were neatly stored in the area where I had built the work bench.
"Excuse me? What are you taking those for?"
"They are mine."
"No, they are not. As you will recall, I had a full basement of tools when we got married and I will have the same when I'm not."
"I'm taking them." He picked up the case with the circular saw in it and took it to the truck.
"I thought we were going to separate, not divorce. What do you plan on doing in that apartment, build a fucking arch cause last time I recall, you can't alter apartments." I removed the circular saw from the truck and placed it back on the shelf.
"I want my tools."
"Last time I checked, I told you you'd get what I gave you. You the big man on campus, making the big money, playing in the big league, buy yourself new, or better yet, have mommy and daddy buy them for you!"
I stood guard now, watching carefully every thing they took from the garage where I had neatly stacked his boxes. The movers were caught in the middle of our discussion. "Put it on the truck," "No, don't touch it," Put it on the truck." I'd remove it. I didn't get ugly, all matter of fact, "you are not taking it unless I give it to you."
We stood there having this discussion about my promise, "I told you eight years ago, almost to the day as I recall, if you fuck around on me, I'll take you for every dime you have, and all this," waving my arms around," is a lot of fucking dimes!"
The moving men kept their heads low as they were preparing to move the desk. So low, they didn't realize there was a curb that surrounded the neighbors driveway and they tripped over it. The beautiful cherry desk with the marble top, fell out of their hands and the edge came crashing down on the cement border, shattering the wood and cracking the marble.
I thought Chappy was going to cry. This beautiful desk broken, wood splintered, the bottom corner smashed, the green marble top, cracked.
"You don't know how to do this, because I always took care of this for you, but you might want to file a claim to get that repaired, I'm betting it is beyond that."
It was the last thing they had to take out. I pulled the garage door down as he stood there staring at the one piece of furniture that he absolutely loved.
I was unaware of where Chappy was living or what his living arrangements were. Later, I discovered he had rented an apartment close to the office for six months as he was slated to move to Boston near the end of the year. In fact he was preparing to start taking over the position that would be vacated by the soon to be retiree.
He flew into Atlanta on Friday nights and back out on Sunday. He spent the week in Boston. He might as well have left his stuff at the house and just stayed in Boston, but he wasn't very savvy when it came to finances.
He was to pay all of the bills. He left the first part of August and I was served within days after he moved. He had planned this all too well. I called my attorney to inform him that Chappy had moved and I'd been served. An appointment was set and we started preparing demands for my needs. I didn't want to be left out there wondering how things were going to be paid.
Chappy had thought I had pre-planned this when we applied for the mortgage the year prior. When we filled out the application, I informed the officer to use only the wages Chappy earned. Given just his salary, we could afford a very nice home, more than what we were applying for. No need to add my potential salary on there to be pre-approved for money we were not going to need. We knew how much the house was going to cost and we were approved with just his salary. But he thought I was scheming. He thought I had the loan approved on his salary alone as I had no intention of returning to work. Remember, he is the one that did not want me to work, he wanted me to find some thing I enjoyed.
Every thing was in both of our names as it always had been, so he was still obligated to pay those debts. The attorney gave me a check list and wanted me to make notations as to what my monthly obligations were. I listed the usual, mortgage, car, utilities. We did not have credit card debt, I had cleared that when we were in Naperville and Chappy brought home a substantial bonus.
Mr. King, my attorney looked at my expenses and laughed, "Cindy, you are married to a man that makes well into six figures and this is all you are claiming? Let me help you. Besides the mortgage, car and utilities, don't you get your hair done?"
"Yes, once a month, but I get it cut at Penney's and its free as long as I work there."
"But you might not work at Penney's much longer, so how much for a haircut?"
"Twenty dollars plus tip."
"You pay twenty dollars a month? Don't you get it colored?"
"I do that myself, probably for five as I buy it on sale." I thought he was going to fall out of his chair!
"Dear girl, you have to start living like you are married to a man who makes money! First, it costs you one hundred dollars a month to maintain that beautiful curly hair. Your nails are beautiful, do you have them done?" He spoke in such a soothing southern drawl.
"No, do them myself."
"Not anymore, you have a manicure and pedicure twice a month, one hundred dollars." My eyes bulged out of my head, one hundred dollars for a manicure and pedicure, I'd never spend that!
"You dress beautifully, how much do you want for clothes a month? Do you shop at Nieman Marcus? What's your bill there per month?"
"I don't go to Nieman Marcus, I buy my clothes at Penney's and TJ Maxx. Some times I splurge and shop at Dillards, but only if I find a great sale. I hate paying full price."
"No more my dear, you only shop at the best." As he spoke, he scribbled notes on this worksheet.
"You mentioned a dog? How much to feed her and have her groomed?"
"I groom her. I'm not sure on the cost of food per month."
"You have to have her vetted, I'm putting down one hundred dollars for dog care." That was ridiculous!
"You need gas for that car, insurance, maintenance, you'll want to go out and eat, entertainment, travel, vacations, skies the limit, think big!" He was writing things on this paper at record speed, I sat there thinking, "I really don't spend that kind of money...." but he was preparing a budget.
I had dry cleaning, maid service, gym memberships, you name it, he thought of it. I wanted to ask him if he'd ever been divorced or if this is how his wife lived, but I didn't.
He finished the list, ran a tape of the numbers and there you had it, I needed five thousand dollars a month to meet my obligations, every one of them!
He had his assistant type it up and he sent it to Chappy's attorney with a demand that payment begin immediately! I thought for sure Chappy would dispute it, argue that I didn't have those expenses, but September first, two weeks later, the first check rolled in. I'd be paid $2500 every two weeks, just like I was receiving a pay check. Chappy didn't bat an eye!
Meanwhile, months down the road, I discovered some thing that just tickled my funny bone. This man, who made the big dollars, thought his farts didn't smell was struggling. Before he had become dazed and confused, we had been some where and spotted a Super Walmart. I had not seen a Super Walmart so we stopped to see how they were different than Walmart.
I knew the prices of groceries and as we walked through the grocery department, I kept referencing how much cheaper things were there and it might be worth driving the extra couple of miles to shop there verses Cub Foods.
The first glimpse of the man that thought he was better than every one else appeared that night in the peanut butter aisle at Super W! "Look peanut butter is seventy five cents cheaper!" My eyes were gazed over from all the money that could be saved in this super duper Walmart!
"We don't shop here."
"What? We don't shop here? What the hell are we doing now, I've got a basket full!"
"We don't shop at Walmart. Look around you."
"When the hell did you get so high and mighty? A buck is a buck and I don't see anyone here that isn't just like us, trying to save a penny." I threw the peanut butter in the cart. Down south they call them buggies, never have gotten used to that term.
He took the peanut butter out and placed it on the shelf. Did I just see what I thought I saw? "What are you doing?"
"I said we don't shop here, I make enough money that we can shop at Publix."
"P u b l i x is expensive! I want to pick some things up here."
"No, lets go." And he hooked his arm in mine and we left the cart in the middle of the aisle. As we got to the parking lot, he told me, "we are better than this. I make a lot of money."
"I'm not sure what just happened, but last time I checked, you came from a farm town in Michigan. Your family shops at Walmart to include your mom and sister and there is nothing shameful about those people in there that are shopping to provide for their family. What has gotten in to you?"
He didn't say a thing, he opened the door for me and off we drove for home. He didn't know where I grocery shopped, I went back to Super Walmart often for groceries.
But here we are, months after this moment in Super W where he let me know "we" were better than this. When the paper trail started rolling in, discovery of credit card statements were presented. Where do you think "better than this Casanova Chappy" shopped the weekend he moved out?
There were charges at Big Lots for toasters and coffee makers. Charges at discount chains for towels and glass ware and a big charge at Super Walmart for groceries. I guess he realized when he had to pay Cindy Marie, five thousand dollars a month to support her expensive habits, he wasn't so good anymore. He had to stoop and spend with the common folk. I wonder how humbling that was for him to stand among those that just months before he thought he was better than?
The thoughts that wander through my mind. Some have suggested I write a book. I think I'll blog first
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