You kicked me when I was down, now it is my turn

I took the folder with all this information, all the stuff that Chappy told me once that I'd never find because he had business phones, emails and credit cards and right before me, laid the whole history. The imprint he left in his travels. It was not surprising that I had started to feel the difference in him shortly after returning home from Michigan in January 2000.  I guess I need to listen to my gut. The activity started January 18, 2000.

The therapist  had told me after a few sessions that from what I had been telling her, I should listen to my gut more as it seemed to speak the truth to me, my heart though appeared to lie. The movement from husband to dickhead seemed to become a little more frequent in March, when I started having the jaw pain from what the doctors had told me was stress, "some thing bothering you subconsciously while you sleep." After my birthday, it was pretty full blown.

I had kept the diary long before my birthday.  My gut telling me to write things down, just in case. When you live with someone, you get to know them inside and out.  I knew some thing was different. First he stopped calling.  Then he was defensive when I asked simple questions like where will you be traveling this week? Where are  you going to be staying? When will you be home?   He'd never taken issue with those questions. His wardrobe significantly upgraded in late January as many charges for Ralph Lauren clothing from Dillard's appeared on his charge statements.  Some purchased in Florida. He must have had a personal shopper just like Killer.  He had not learned a thing from me about smart shopping. Of course not, he hated shopping. I did it all for  him!  I am sure those Ralphie's could be located at T.J Maxx for a fraction of the cost, but he was trying to impress someone and it wasn't me.

All the times  he missed his plane in Tampa on a Friday, he had dinner in or around Lutz, Florida, where Courtney lived.  Was there a hotel charge for those Friday nights? No.  Guess he slept on a curb or in the airport.

They seemed to have  late lunches, perhaps when she dropped him off at the airport.  The cars that he rented for the week, always were returned on time, just couldn't hit the tarmac timely to fly home. How do you return the car to the airport on time, but miss the plane?  Still puzzles me to this day.

The phone calls, too numerous to mention, but everyone I walked in on and he was on the phone to his "sister" or "mother," seemed they were living in another woman's body, who lived in Florida. I had documented every call and they all matched up to the document I was staring at now.

The week I went to Indiana and we were not to call one another, a flight from Atlanta to Tampa, hours after we said good-bye.  I'm betting as soon as he discovered I was leaving, he booked the flight as it was expensive!  That was the whole reason I was not letting him know I was going away, so he had no time to plan an adventure.  It didn't stop  him.

They spent the week having a good time or the credit card was lying. The days  he went back to Michigan for his Aunt's funeral, late night calls, well after everyone was asleep.  I'm sure if Min heard him on the phone, she thought he was talking to me, or maybe she knew, but I doubt it, it would have disappointed her to know her son was such an asshole.

I just could not believe what was in front of me, yet I had known at some level that it was going on.  I had confronted him how many times, and he assured me, there was no one.  

Mr. King had drafted a letter to Chappy's attorney.  It was a classic, "It appears from the documents provided, Mr. Schafer has been having an extramarital affair."  That letter was going to be the nail in his coffin. I had plans for it as soon as the divorce was settled.  Another Mrs. Schafer would be holding this letter and wondering who her son really was.  Timing. Every thing boils down to timing.

I had taken off my wedding band on our eighth wedding anniversary, September 11, 2000.  I thought that was the perfect way to celebrate the end. It was October now and I  had a lot to do.  I put the house up for sale.  We had agreed at the pre-hearing that neither of us wanted to remain in Georgia, so the house went on the market and I was responsible for getting it sold.  Some things never change.

I had to decide what to do.  Mr. King informed me to not find a job until the divorce was final.  "Continue working at J C Penney's.  The less you make the more you are worth".  I liked working at Penney's, but every two weeks, I would open that check and what I made in a week there, I used to make in a day. I was working thirty hours a week, it helped to keep my mind occupied.

My cousin Jackie wanted me to meet a "friend" of hers.  She thought we would be just perfect for one another.  His name was John and I had heard her talk about him before as though she herself had a crush on him.  

We started emailing back and forth. He was nine years older than I was and divorced. He had two sons, one was in college and the other was a senior.  He attended the same church as Jackie, that may be how she met him. He had been divorced for a couple of  years, but was still bitter.  His wife had left him for a friend of the family and they had married. John was still a lost soul, reading self help books trying to mend a broken spirit.

Amicalola Falls State Park

We had plenty in common.  Two wounded warriors.  He had recommended some books for me to read.  I, too, had started reading self help books.  The therapist had recommended a few and they were insightful, but I was pretty much living by most of them as it was.  Again, as Killer said, "it takes a marriage to make a marriage."

There were many things that I did that I normally would not have done, but there was a comfort in it that soothed my soul.  I started hiking.  Precious and I would drive north about an hour or so and hike in the Amicalola State Park.  The Appalachian Trail ran through this park and I found it to be so peaceful to be in nature.

I walked Precious every day on the Green ways.  I don't know how I would have survived without her. I attended Mass every Sunday.  There was something about the routine that calmed me.  I even began to learn the  songs sung every week at the same time during mass.  But most of my time was spent preparing for the mediation that was just around the corner.

I am trained to investigate, prepare a claim for hearing. I've mediated workers compensation claims, so I knew how to present evidence.  I put together my own packet for the hearing. I had a time line of events from day one practically up to the time the discovery was presented. I was prepared to take battle. I knew this case inside out, hell, I lived it, who better than I to present it!

I made my list of demands.  I was pretty confident that once the Mediator saw what I had gathered, the sky was the limit for me. Every thing copied  for any one to follow as I laid it out.  I dug deeper, I found Mr.  Schafer had missed one or two stock option documents.  They were in the safe, but I'd use it to my advantage to make it appear he was hiding some thing.  

It was early December, 2000, the day had arrived.  It was show time and I was ready to take names and kick ass, first  name on my  list, Chappy Schafer.  Let the kicking begin!