As I have described, John was high maintenance. He wore the best of the best. Every thing was in place, not a speck of dust to be found. He reminded me of my grandmother. He had white furniture, but didn't want you to sit on it. He had an entire room that was just for show, no one allowed to sit or touch anything in the room. He was a brand name dropper. Every thing was bought from an exclusive store or shop. I am a bargain shopper.
His hair had to be just right, his nails had to be manicured and polished and every day he put cuticle oil on them. Do not ask him to skip this step if you are running late! I tried, wasn't pleasant. He would run the dishwasher daily, even if the only thing in it were his coffee cup and spoon. He did not like dirty dishes. I did not understand why he couldn't hand wash them, but you got it, the nails. He didn't want dish washer hands.
How my cousin thought we were perfect for one another, I'll never know. But I am not afraid of getting my hands dirty. I like things in there place, but I don't freak out if a dirty spoon is in the sink or a drop of water is on the vanity. He did.
He was a bit effeminate with his body language and his voice was a little high pitched at times. He was very well groomed and it bothered him that people thought he might be gay. He moved from Battle Creek after his divorce was final to get away from that stigma. I never understood it, but he felt without a wife, people would make assumptions since he had not been with a woman since his divorce. Red flag one.
He was active in his church, sang in the choir and taught Bible School. He reminded me of Killer in the way he was one person under his roof and someone completely different outside.
We did a lot of things with Jackie and her husband, Mike. Jackie considered John her best friend. Shortly after I moved in, John proposed. I declined his offer, I was still married and the marriage thing wasn't impressing me much.
He started looking for a home, as he thought if he had a home and I could have Precious with me all the time, I'd reconsider. I was very honest with him, I was not looking to stay in Michigan. My personal belongings were stored in Indianapolis and that is where I intended on living.
He suggested I stay in Marshall and in seven years when he retired, we'd move to Indianapolis. He didn't understand that he was not some one I would have married.
He started looking for a house anyway and took me along. He wanted to know if I could see myself living there, the answer was always, no. I realized that in his mind if he found the house that I "could live in," I'd marry him, so I stopped house hunting with him. He took Jackie and she told him the same thing, "She isn't staying here no matter what you buy, so you need to find a house for you."
He found one and wanted me to come see it. It was three doors down from Jackie's house. It was the exact same floor plan as the house I grew up in back in DeWitt. It was in really nice condition and well maintained. He bought it. Sold his condo and was moving.
By the time this had happened, I had helped move his son from college to an apartment. I helped move this son's girlfriend as well. I was tired of moving, but I was really good at it.
The selling of his condo and moving into his home coincided with his 50th birthday. I had asked Jackie if we could have a surprise birthday party at her home for him and she agreed, but she had so much "work to do" to prepare for a party. The yard needed to be cleaned up, the house needed to be cleaned, so I did it. I love working in the yard and hers was a dream yard, but it had been neglected. I would come over early in the morning and work all day in the yard hanging out with Precious.
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| John & Cindy |
I worked in this yard for over a month to get it prepared for this surprise party. I had sent out invitations, planned every thing! He had no clue I was going to be throwing him a party. But then, the real John showed up one night and my glimmer of hope that not all men were assholes, faded quickly.
He had bought this house. He had to pack. He worked. I was spending way too much time at Jackie's doing "her work" and not packing him up! He was like a child! Upset that I was not spending all my time doing for him.
I had helped his oldest son and his girlfriend pack up college apartments and move to separate cities. I had helped his son secure a few perks for his apartment that his dad wouldn't buy for him, a microwave and DVR. Bryan was so grateful for my help and thankful for helping him monetarily on many levels. He didn't have the money to get a few things he needed and he was applying towards Graduate school. We sat in his apartment one day and he told me what life had been like when his parents were married. "You'll leave him. You need to leave him. You deserve better. You haven't seen my real father." We just had a heart to heart talk about life. "Why are you doing this for me? My own parent's won't help me move or get a start in life. How do I ever repay you?"
"It's simple. I have been blessed. Some day, you can repay me, when you are in my position and you find some one who needs help, help them." Long before pay it forward was popular, I was paying it forward.
My moving skills were finely tuned. John was expecting me to move him as well, on my own. He had no intention of moving himself. I was working against the clock to prepare this yard for a party and I was upset that he was demanding my time to pack him up. Jackie tried to tell him that I had moved so many times in the last couple of years that I wanted nothing to do with moving again. But he still pouted.
I would work in the garden by day, pack at night. I was still battling Chappy's attorney to iron out all of the finer points in settling the divorce and I was still looking for a job in Indianapolis
Within a couple of weeks, he was scheduled to move. He was having a difficult time living in the condo with boxes packed and stacked around him, but there was no place to put them. He wanted to be able to paint before he moved in and have the floors refinished, that is why there was a delay in getting into the house.
April 30, 2001, he had to be out of this condo by midnight and he wasn't close to even being ready to move. The surprise birthday party was in two weeks and I was busy preparing for both. I had been painting rooms at his house at night, most times crashing on the floor as I would paint through the night while he was asleep in his condo as he had a real job. I'd get up, shower at Jackie's and work in the yard, go to John's and paint or to the condo and pack.
But that last evening, I lost it! I was moving boxes, putting them in the Bravada and driving them to the house, unloading them into the garage and coming back for more. John was helpless. He packed about as fast as a snail and I was getting upset as we had to be out by midnight. The straw that broke the camel's back was him sitting on the floor taking the drawers to his desk out. He took each item and carefully packed them in a box and then wrapped Saran wrap around the drawers.
The house was less than five miles away. I had moved boxes and boxes and he sat on the floor like a child inspecting a booger, packing up this desk!
"John, just leave the stuff in the drawers and we'll move them like that. You don't have to unpack the drawers! Come on! We don't have much time left to get out of here!"
He just sat there, in the middle of the floor moving as if in slow motion. "Cin, I have to unpack the drawers. How are we going to get this stuff to the house?"
"IN THE DRAWERS!" He didn't want to ask any one for help. He had several who had offered from church, but he said we could do it. Well, "WE" ain't doing it, I am!
I called Jackie at 11:00 and told her I needed to call the reserves in. We still had furniture to move and I was not able to move all the boxes in my car within the time I had left. Within fifteen minutes, the troops were there, we packed every thing up and were out within minutes of midnight. I thought about leaving John sitting in the middle of the room, as he still hadn't moved. I practically had to remove the drawers from his clenched hands as he didn't want to leave them packed so we could move them.
He was a mess. He did not know how to live among ciaos and I was an expert at it. He wanted the living room and hallway painted, the ceilings painted and the house cleaned before he put his stuff in it. I had worked so hard to get it accomplished but I did.
The party was two weeks later. I had been unpacking him, working in the garden and living life. He had no idea that I had been working on this surprise party. Jackie lit into him about how he treated me the past few weeks, but he was oblivious to it.
I was sad that my divorce was close to be finalized. You enter so many different stages when you leave some one or they leave you. I had gone through the anger when I was faced with the mediation. All in the timing and I couldn't have timed that one better. I was entering the world of acceptance. This was happening and it was going to be finalized soon.
What did I want to do with the rest of my life? I was still having a hard time locating any feasible employment. I had been to Indianapolis and looked at houses, but none appealed to me. I had to find some thing. I couldn't sit in limbo all of my life.
Chappy's attorney had contacted Mr. King claiming I was gainfully employed and demanding the payments start counting toward the "settlement." Chappy had "heard" a Cindy Schafer was working in Indianapolis. Well good for her, but it wasn't me. I wrote his attorney and suggested she hire a private eye, because this Cindy Schafer was digging holes and looking for bodies to bury, she had quite a list going on at the time. They were wasting time waiting for me to find a job so they could offer less and I had nothing but time on my hands as well as some dirt and paint.
July fourth, 2001, John was supposed to be painting. I'd had my share of it. I had recently found some furniture that I liked and purchased it. It was in the finished basement of John's house and we were using it until I moved. I was making steps toward my goal, some thing had to give.
Jackie and I had driven to Battle Creek to shop at Meijer. It was late in the day and we decided that we'd grab steaks, corn on the cob and watermelon to make a quick dinner for all of us when we got home. Mike would grill the steaks and bring them down when they were done. I'd prepare the rest of the meal and we'd have a quick bite and call it a day. Simple.
I came in to the house to find John painting. He was in a mood! I was setting the table for dinner when his son Bryan walked in. I sat an extra place for him to join us. I told John the last minute plans, we'd eat and then I'd help him finish up. He had repeatedly told me "this is your home too. I want you to feel at home here." But I guess he didn't mean it.
Mike and Jackie showed up, the meal was on the table and we were sitting down to eat. I asked John to join us and he didn't respond. He kept pacing up from the living room which was visible from the dining room, down the hall and back, non stop. I ignored him. This was his way of letting me know he was not happy. Bryan knew his Dad. "Dad, come sit down and eat!"
"I'm not hungry." John ate little meals all day long but I knew he was hungry. He just kept pacing and finally he said in a snippy little voice, "Cin, I need to talk to you in private."
I got up and we went to the bedroom. "What are THOSE people doing in my house?"
"I told you, we are grabbing a quick bite and then going about our evening. Jackie and I just decided we'd share in cooking, eat together and then they will go home."
Now, these "guests" were family. Mine and his. He did not whisper, he was angry, so they heard every thing being spoken. "I do not want THOSE PEOPLE in my house!"
"John, we are eating and when they are done, they will leave, come join us for dinner." and I got up to walk away. He was right on my tail.
"I TOLD YOU I DID NOT WANT THOSE PEOPLE IN MY HOUSE!!"
We were now right in front of them. Jackie was clearing the table. She was putting their meals in tin foil to take home and eat. Mike was in the shed retrieving tools they had loaned to John to use. Bryan had left the house, meal untouched. I was looking at the body for the grave I'd been digging.
Jackie spoke up, "John, we heard your conversation. We came here to enjoy a meal with family, but apparently we are not welcomed in YOUR house, so we will leave and never return." She was wrapping up her stuff and heading toward the door. "And by the way, Michael is getting our stuff from the shed, we don't let PEOPLE like you use our things." And she was gone.
I was livid! "How dare you treat my family like that! You tell me that I am to make myself comfortable here and treat this like it is my home and you show your ass and treat my family like that?"
"I can only tolerate your cousin when I want to see her. I did not want to see her today!" These two people had been friends, almost "girlfriends" and he could only tolerate her when he wanted to see her? I started looking back and sure enough, when he didn't want to be around Jackie, he came up with reasons to be busy.
He was in the kitchen, cleaning up the plates that Jackie had left on the counter. He was muttering some thing under his breath about inviting people into his home with out his permission. I don't know what came over me. I walked over to the sink and asked him to repeat himself and he made it very clear that I had no right to invite anyone over to HIS house. There before me was the John I had heard of, but only had a glimpse of. I told him to face me and speak up if he was going to bad mouth my family and he turned his face in the other direction like a child. I don't know what came over me, but I grabbed his shirt and as I did, he pulled away and the shirt tore.
"OH MY GOD, now you are resorting to abuse? Is this what you are all about? Look! You tore my shirt! What's next?" I had to be living in hell, I had never experienced any man like this.
I walked into the bedroom, packed a suitcase and left. I walked down to Jackie's in tears. I can't live like this! I had bent over backward to help this man and this is how he treated my family? I came in and Jackie was upset in tears. She thought John was her friend and she was distraught that he would treat her so poorly.
I asked if I could move in with them. They fully understood the predicament I was in. Jackie kept apologizing for introducing me. There had been plenty of other incidents that had occurred that lead to the final moment, but I had looked the other way. This was a short term arrangement, but I could not tolerate this any longer.
Within minutes John was at the door,he wanted to talk to me. She told him that I had nothing to say. He begged her to go get me, he needed to talk to me. Again, she told him, I had nothing to say. He called my name, begging that I come out so we could talk, she told him that I was moving in with them the next day, so he started shouting, demanding the key to his house. I was in the bedroom. I feared if I came out, I'd rip more than his shirt. Jackie told him that I still had things at his house and I needed to come get them, but it could wait until the morning. The next day was Monday. I was already planning on what I needed to do to remove my clothes and furniture the next day.
He informed her that I was not welcomed in his home, "Look what she did" as he showed her the shirt that was torn. "Look! She's abused me and I will not tolerate it!" Abused him! I almost came out from the back of the house to shred the rest of the shirt off of him, but I remained back there, listening to him whine about how I didn't help him finish painting and he was having to do that now and I didn't help him pack to move, blah, blah, blah!
Jackie said he was wrong, I had been there to do all of that and he was taking advantage of me. Round Two! He lit into her and she slammed the door in his face. I watched him scurry back to his house. I had had too much drama for a life time that night.
The next morning I got up early to make arrangements for movers to come get the furniture to store. His car was in the driveway, he did not go to work. Shortly thereafter, the locksmith was in the drive. He was changing the locks and my stuff was still in the house!
Jackie came home that day and I told her what had happened. She walked down to get my car that was still parked there and inform him that the movers would be there the next day to remove the furniture and my personal belongings.
"She is not going to do that to my son again!" His youngest spent a considerable amount of time in the basement, where I had made a spare room into a bedroom for him, so he could hang with friends. One of the reasons I bought the furniture was that I liked it and I could store in and use it until I moved.
What do you mean, do what to your son? She has done nothing but be nice to both of your sons. What are you implying?"
"She is not taking that furniture! I do not want Eric coming home to an empty house again, his mother did that once and I will not do it again to him!"
"John, it's her furniture and she is going to take it tomorrow. She is pretty determined and you don't want to get in her way."
"Well, I'll be here and so will the police! She tore my shirt!"
"John, Cindy told me what happened, she did not abuse you, she grabbed your shirt to get your attention cause you were acting childish and you pulled away, that is how your shirt ripped."
"She isn't getting a thing, its my furniture, it's in my house."
Jackie came home. I had been watching from the picture window as the two of them had this debate. She told me what he had said and I was amazed at how he had spun this into such a mini drama.
The next day, the movers came. The furniture was removed and stored. My clothing was brought down to Jackie's. I didn't go to the house. Jackie went for me. I had tools in the shed that I had taken down to do things at his house. He wouldn't give them to her. I had little things around the house, trinkets, personal belongings, he wouldn't give those to her. I got the furniture and my clothes. I didn't care, I'd buy new. If he was that bad off that he couldn't part with cookie jars, hedge scissors and jigsaws, let alone what else he wouldn't give her, that was OK. I was really sick of men and swore I'd never look at one again.
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