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!

Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned

I didn't have to  make many adjustments once Chappy left. I was used to him not being there.  What I missed were the times that he had been.  Friday nights were very difficult as they were always the night he came home and we went to dinner and a movie. We had kept this charade up until late July and one Friday, I just went to the movie before he came home, alone.  

As I pulled out of the theater, I saw him pull in a lone. And when he came home, I didn't ask where he had been, I knew. But it struck me odd that we still continued to follow the same routine. What bothered me was going out alone and seeing other happy couples.  It had not bothered me before, but I was no longer part of a couple.  I think that is what bothered me the most.  I was going to have to redefine who I was.  I had been alone, but I had always been a part of a couple.  There had been a comfort in knowing there was some one there, even if not all the time.

I stopped going to therapy. I got what I needed from it. To know I wasn't crazy, I was married to a man and family that made me crazy. I had lost my identity being married to Chappy. I am funny, very funny.  Many think I should do stand up comedy,  but every time I would say some thing funny, Min would say I was "a nasty girl." I was walking on eggshells to not upset the apple cart when his whole family was around.  I didn't want to do some  thing that Min did not approve of and have Jack hear about it from his mom and in turn hear about it from him. 

While I was sad that it was ending and still did not have a clue why, besides he had invited someone to the  marriage that had not been at the alter the day we took our vows, I was happy that I could do what I wanted.  I could spend Christmas with my parents.  It had been nine years since I had spent the holiday with them. I could live without the fear of moving every time I unpacked the last box.  And I no longer had to explain why Chappy was never with me when I visited people. It is hard to explain why your husband never is with you because he'd rather be with his mom.

My cousin, Jackie had met Chappy when we got married.  One of the last times we had driven to Michigan, I told him I wanted to stop and see her on my way home.  She lived in Marshall and it was just off the highway.  She had been down to our home in Fishers, but Chappy was always gone the weekends she came.

When I told her we were separated, she said, "Hmm, I met him coming in and I saw him going out, but I never saw him in between." That pretty much summed it up.  He didn't want to stop and he was inpatient when we did. Yet I was supposed to act like I was over the moon when we stopped to visit his family.

He had been gone for six weeks.  We had not spoken to one another, nor seen each other. I guess that whole spiel of working on the marriage while having a trial separation was just another lie.  Especially since he served me so soon afterwards.  It bothered me that he lied and I had to wonder many times if our whole marriage was a lie. He just had a hard time with the truth, from day one. I just didn't want to see it for what it was worth.

At six weeks we had our first divorce pre-hearing. It was in downtown Atlanta at the Fulton County Court House.  I was to meet my attorney in the lobby at one thirty in the afternoon for a two o'clock hearing. I was dressed to kill! 

I was as thin as a rail. I think I weighed more coming out of my mother's womb than I did that day! I was loving this life of manicures and pedicures, groomed dogs and elegant fashions! I wore it so well on the outside, but inside I was shredded guts and nerves!

I was waiting in the lobby for Mr. King to discuss our plan of action when I saw Chappy walking toward me in this marble clad atrium.  I couldn't believe he was walking toward me!  There was no one else in the area.

He came up to me and it was just so natural, we hugged and kissed.  Like nothing was wrong between us, two lovers meeting for lunch, not headed to divorce court!

He told me I was beautiful.  He said he had just flown in from Boston last night and he did not want to be "there."  

"I always thought Sissy was so weak when she went through this. I didn't think it would be so hard.  I just don't want to be here  today."

"I had told you it wasn't easy."

"You know I still love you.  I've missed you.  I just can't get over how beautiful you look."

"I've always been beautiful, you just stopped looking at me." Tears welled in both of our eyes as we stood there holding hands and speaking from our  hearts.  "We don't have to do this you know, we can call it off, sell the house, move to Boston together."

"I know, but I have to do it now."

"Why?  You just said that this was hard, you still loved me and missed me, we can work through whatever problems we may have, you just have to talk to me."

"It's almost two, why are you in the lobby?"

"I'm supposed to meet my attorney down here. I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go."

"I know. Come on we'll go up together."  We turned toward the elevator, holding hands, walking towards the room that would dissolve this  union.   The elevator doors opened, Chappy let me in first and as we stood there, he leaned over and kissed me. I started to cry and as we got off the elevator, we stood in the hall and held on to each other, tears streaming down both of our cheeks.

A woman came up to us and interrupted this final moment before we had to go in to the meeting room.  She pulled on Chappy's elbow, "Mr. Schafer, this way, we are about to start." It was Chappy's attorney. "Mrs Schafer, Mr. King is delayed and will be here shortly, you can wait in here."

As Chappy walked away he looked me in the eye, "I love you, never forget that." And I fell apart. They closed the door and left me there.  Where the hell was my attorney!  He walked in a few minutes later apologizing for being late.

"Are you OK?" He handed me a box of Kleenex.

"No, I'm not!" I proceeded to tell him what had happened and had he been on time, I wouldn't have had to experience that.  "How can he tell me  he loves me and then head off with his attorney to discuss divorce in front of the Judge?"  I could not stop crying and I was shaking.

"They do that to weaken you.  Don't buy into it. Now wipe your tears and let's go in there with our head up high."

I walked into the room, head up, but my eyes were filled with tears.  Chappy and his attorney sat on one side of the table and we headed to the other side. I looked across at Chappy, his eyes were dry, but you could still see the emotion hanging in them.  We sat there looking at each other across the table and then the hearing began.

My attorney informed the Judge that Mr. Schafer had approached his client before the hearing and had said inappropriate things to stir my emotions, so "please excuse Mrs. Schafer if she appears to be a little emotional. I would ask from this point on, Mr. Schafer  not come within five hundred feet of  my client unless I am present."

Where did this come from?  The emotion that loomed in Chappy's eyes, disappeared and anger arose as he sat there and glared at me! His whole demeanor changed before my eyes and I still sat there, this beautiful glob of pitiful.

Nothing was accomplished.  The attorney's were still waiting for documents to be filed and discovery to be provided by Mr. Schafer. We agreed to mediate instead of having a hearing, mediation was set for the first part of December.

Mr. King advised the Judge that he would appreciate if Mr. Schafer would vacate the building immediately so that I could leave the building without being approached again.  Mr. Schafer was advised once more to have no contact with me unless my attorney was present.

A few minutes later, Mr. King walked me to my car. He told me that Chappy's attorney had not responded to  his interrogatories and the due date had passed, but he was confident once those documents were secured, I'd feel differently about what Mr. Schafer had to say today.

I guess when you do this for a living, you see the same thing over and over, for the next day, Mr. King called and asked if I could come to his office. The responses to the interrogatories had just been received and he wanted to go over them with me. 

I arrived at his office and sat down. I wasn't expecting much, perhaps because I was still in denial. Perhaps, I wanted to believe him when he told me he loved me, perhaps I still had hope.  Mr. King opened the folder and provided me with a copy of telephone records, credit card receipts, emails, stock options, stocks, bank statements, any thing that could be construed as a paper trail, laid there in front of me, for me to examine.  Mr. King pointed out just a few minor things, and my world changed.

When you are spiraling down a deep dark hole, sooner or later you will hit bottom.  You make a choice, you hit it hard and stay there, or you hit it like a trampoline and you come out of the dark with a vengeance. You are ready to take names and kick ass.

I looked at those documents and I hit the bottom, that son of a bitch was going to pay and he'd be shelling out more than the dimes I promised him I'd be taking if he ever screwed around on me.

It's hard to be humble when you are perfect in every way

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?

You are not worthy to accept Communion

Chappy had never asked me to go to church with him.  I asked him very early in our marriage if it was important to him and he said, "No, it doesn't matter, that is my time."

If the family were going  to church, more times than not I attended but there were times I refused because of Min.  I always asked Chappy though if it would bother him first, before I made the decision to not go and every time he said, "No."

I discovered over time, there is a routine that is followed in the Catholic Church, but I never understood it. Min thought I should convert, but I do not follow one particular faith.   I have my own beliefs and they are perhaps a blend of many faiths. I am an all or nothing person.  Unlike Min, I can't say I'm of one faith, but pick and chose what I want to abide by in that belief.  Again, we are all sinners, so that may be how she believed in some but not all of the Catholic faith.

Sissy was married outside of the Church so therefore she could not accept Communion.  Wilma always told me I wasn't worthy of Communion because I was not Catholic.  Years later, I attended a United Methodist Church and once a month when Communion was rolled out, I stood in line and apparently was worthy in their eyes.  I always wanted to send a video of that moment to Min, but she wouldn't have found the humor in it like I did.

I followed the others as we entered the Church.  I have a great respect for God and His House. I am respectful when I enter any church.  I dress in what was once referred to as your Sunday best.  You are there to worship and some days you are asking for a lot of forgiveness and others, tons of favors in exchange for serving Him.  I would think you would want to arrive in your best to thank Him for what He has provided to you.

That aside, that is my opinion. It may not be shared by many, but it is my belief. I try and treat people as I would want to be treated.  It isn't always returned, but I understand some can not give as others do.

It was important to Min that we arrive at Church as a family.  She loved to hear others mention that they saw the "whole family" or that Chappy was in town.  

When Sissy was married to Wes, he would behave like a five year old sitting in the pew. I felt embarrassed for her as Min chastised him where others could hear.  A forty year old should know better.  Sissy was a bit of a drama mama. She'd sit and pout every time Min, John Boy and Chappy left the pew for Communion. Wes, Sissy and I were left behind, sinners, for all to see as they returned to their seats.

I  have a few memories of those visits to the Church.  One, Min and I ended up next to each other in the pew, that didn't happen often, but as we entered, we knelt on the kneelers.  I assumed one did this as they entered Church to  pay respect, or pray.  Min knelt and leaned forward, "Who do you think that is with Mary N?  I wonder if that is her ...." 

"Really? Is this what you are supposed to do when you kneel?  I thought I was supposed to be praying and today I find out I'm supposed to be prying!"

"Oh, you're a nasty girl, you better pray, you've got a lot to cover in the short time we are here." And she continued to take a head count of everyone in the pews and who they were attending with. I prayed that God wouldn't smack her.

We were in Arizona one year.  Min and John Boy went out there for a month. They had heard how great it was in the winter by others in Westphalia who spent the colder months there.  Min hated it. She was homesick and she didn't like being away from her family.

We all flew out to see where they were staying and we headed out to church for Saturday Mass.  It was crowded, many standing, leaning against the wall.  Min found some seats, but not enough for me to sit with them.  I headed over toward a far wall and found a single seat.  I had not been to impressed with the Masses we had attended recently, every one focused on  money.  This day was no different, but after they requested you to empty your pockets they started to discuss the sins of abortion and how any woman who had an abortion would face Satin one day.  For whatever reason, I found that  to be judgemental and I thought God was not judgemental, or at least my God wasn't.  I started to think of the choices I had  made in my life and how different it might have been had I chose a different path. I have never regretted any thing I had done, perhaps I was having a moment of pity or again, feeling alone as Chappy chose to sit with his mom verses standing beside me.

When I came out of the Church, I had to wait for the others. I am sure  my face reflected the emptiness in my heart.  Chappy wanted to know if I was OK and I whispered in  his ear, "Don't make me do  that again."

"Do what?" He was in the dark as we had walked in fine and I walked out with a heavy heart and a tinge of anger.

"I almost walked out of there, how can your church be so judgemental? Do they not understand people make decisions that are best for them at the time  that they make them?"

He knew what I was talking about and he just gave me a hug and apologized. For what, I don't know. Min wanted to know, "why the long face there, Missy?"

"Tired of going to Church and having them beg for  money, don't they ever give sermons?" And life went on.

The last memory was the last time we attended Church as a family.  December 1999, Christmas Eve Mass.  John Boy, Min, Sissy, her new beau, Bill, Chappy and I all attended. I was the only non Catholic.  Min asked us to all go up for Communion.  Nothing would make her happier than to see us all go up together.  I told her that I didn't feel comfortable with that. If the Church believes only some are worthy of Communion, I did not want to go. Sissy was not comfortable as she still would not be entitled as she married a man who had previously been married outside of the Church. Min didn't care, throw caution to the wind! She wanted her five minutes of happiness. What she really wanted was for everyone to see us go up as a family and not be left behind in the pews.  She had  had too many notice and mention it to her.

They announced that even if you were not allowed Communion you could approach for a blessing. You had to "do some thing" though to signal you were not Communion worthy.  I wasn't paying attention.

I wasn't going, but Min nudged me out of the pew so she could get by me and as I stood there waiting for every one to leave the pew, she pushed me in front of her and told me I was going.  Chappy was right behind me, I was leading the troops to the front of the Church.

The lines were long and I kept watching others to see what I was supposed to do to alert every one I was not worthy.  I leaned back to Chappy and asked him, he didn't know. He asked Min, she didn't know.  Next thing I knew I was front and center. I had spotted another sinner among the crowd, both arms crossed across their chest, similar to the X you find in glamour magazines pointing out "don't" do this in fashion.

I was coming up fast to the grape juice and cracker tray, my arms crossed in front of me, alerting those who were providing Communion that I was to be passed over.  I guess they were not paying attention for the next thing I knew, they popped one of those wafers on my tongue. I had told him, "No" as I was flapping my arms against my chest to warn him, but he didn't notice that my arms were crossed.

I headed back to the pew, Chappy behind me.  Min couldn't wait to walk back and watch everyone looking at her clan coming back from the front of the church.  She scooted past Chappy so she could sit next to me, "Thank you for doing that for me.  I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome, I guess I was worthy today, did you notice they popped the old wafer in my mouth and my arms were even crossed!"

"Don't be thinking you are worthy, it's just a special night and you should consider yourself lucky that we even allow you in our church." 

That one second, she had been nice, but it never lasted, within seconds afterwards, she had to cut me off at the knees again.

There is a Greater Power who guilds Us

After Chappy split the bank accounts, one night, we laid in bed and he got up in the middle of the night and slept in the spare bedroom.  Having been in his shoes at one time, I understood, but I wasn't going to make it easy on him.

I knew from watching Min, Chappy did not handle guilt well.  He had a business function to attend. It was a large company meeting that all the account representatives would be attending, to include Courtney.

She was staying at the hotel that the function was being held at and he came strolling in at four in the  morning.  I was in bed, but I wasn't sleeping.  He tiptoed into the closet and I tiptoed right in behind him.  Our closet was the size of a room and I had a chair in there.  I plopped down in that chair and watched him undress, all the while asking him about his evening.  I didn't mention it was four in the morning. I had some thing much better than that to bring to the table.

As he stood there undressing, he removed his trousers and checked his tighty  whiteys, I'm guessing for wet spots, because after almost eight years of marriage, this was a first.   I asked him if he had gotten some thing on him and he glared at me.  As he walked past me, I reached for his hand.  He paused and turned to me.  "I think you forgot this tonight" and I handed him his wedding band. He took it and placed it back on his finger.

"What is this all about?  You go out now without  your wedding band?"

Chappy never took his wedding band off. Ever. I on the other hand took mine off often because of the diamond.  In fact, one year at Christmas, I took them off to do dishes. I had a set, engagement ring and wedding band.  I also had a ring I had purchased years before of a band with a half a caret of diamonds made up of five stones.  Min picked up my rings and wore them on her hand. She had all of them on one finger and commented on how nice they looked together. I had other rings that I liked to wear, but I'm not one to load my fingers down with rings on every finger.  She told me I should wear them like that.  Not once, several times.  So I did and on the right ring finger I wore other rings that I had.

Chappy noticed it soon after and told me to remove it.  He wanted to know why I had taken to wearing that gold band on my left hand.  "No reason, your mom had them on one day and she kept suggesting I should wear them like this, so I do, what's wrong?"

"I don't like and I don't want you to wear any ring except the one I gave you."

"OK." And I never did. This was long before the turbulence we were experiencing in our marriage now. But for him to comment on it, I knew it bothered him.

So, knowing that, for him not to wear his ring was concerning to me.  It wasn't that he didn't wear it all the time, he was selective when he wore it and when he wasn't wearing it, he hid it, between a hankerchief on the closet shelf. He didn't leave it in the open, he hid it.

When you reach this point, you are living two lives and trying to decide how you can manage it without getting caught.  You begin to wonder if it is possible to love two people and you wish you could clone yourself so that you can have the best of both worlds. I've been there and I've had men who loved me, where I was the "other" woman, express that same feeling.  You don't think it is possible but it is and it all starts with an emotional betrayal and ends in a physical betrayal.  We are all humans and few of us are free of sin.

When he moved to the spare room, I knew  it was one step closer to the door, it was just a matter of time. In late July I came home late from Debbie's, my girlfriend from high school's house.  Chappy was sitting in the dark on the screened in porch.  He had tears in his eyes and it appeared he'd been crying for a while.

"Been out with your friends again?" He said sarcastically.

"Yes, I told you I was going to Debbie's. What's wrong? Why are you crying?" This was a rare moment. I had seen Chappy tear up three times, the day he proposed, the day we got married and the day we left our home in Lansing.

"No matter where we move, you make friends.  You have friends every where. I don't have friends. I work.  I understand now why you love this dog so much,  she is a lot of company.  It gets lonely sitting here by yourself. I never understood how you couldn't live with out Precious, but I do now."

"She's mine.  You aren't taking her, so forget it. She has saved me more times than not and I know what you are feeling.  You have friends, back home, but you work all the time so you can't develop relationships out of work, to include this marriage."

"I can't do this, it's too hard."

"Do what?"

"I can't live like this.  I am not happy.  I don't know if I want to be married and I' confused." Tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I know.  I've been where you are right now, fifteen years ago.  I know exactly what you feel and what you are thinking.  But I am not going to make the decision for  you.  You want out, you walk out that door. I'm not going any where. I am not quitting this marriage. I took a vow and you made a promise, you will have to live  with your decision whatever that is."

"I think I want to try a trial separation."

"OK. What does that mean?  Does that mean we live apart and try to work this out or does that mean, it's easier to say than the alternative?"

"I want this to work.  I think we  need to live apart and work on this."

"OK, but remember, you are paying the bills. Every month that mortgage is due and so is your rent.  Every month the utilities are due and so are yours. I'm not footing the bill while you play Casanova Chappy."

"I'm not playing Casanova! I told you there isn't anyone in my life besides you. I love you, I'm just confused."

"Yeah, my mom always said, "confused" is named after a woman or a man. So, if you love me so much, why are you walking out the door and not trying?"

"I want to try, but I want to be separated."

He really thought I was stupid. I got up and pulled the old Killer out of my back pocket.  "Give me a date, when you are moving.  I'll be here cause you aren't taking any thing out of this house, unless I tell you that you can have it.  Trust me, don't pull any shit."

"I am moving next Saturday. I have movers coming."

"Movers?  You should be able to rent a truck and move by yourself."

"I'm taking my desk. I need help getting it up the stairs at my new apartment."

"Really, you already have this new apartment?"

"Yes."

I called the dog and walked into the house.  I felt like locking the door and letting him sit out there for the rest of his life, but I didn't. He just wasn't going to have the companionship of my Precious and if anyone was loyal to me, she was.  She got up and followed me upstairs.  I closed the bedroom door and locked it. I closed the bathroom suite door and locked it and I cried until there were no more tears.

Chappy had been watching me keep this log. He watched me carry this briefcase every where I roamed.  He was curious to know what I had in it and I set him up.  Shortly after I started toting it around, I made copies of every thing I had inside of it.  I kept those where he would have never found them, in the Bravada, in the spare tire well. I left the briefcase out and left the house. I wanted to see what he would do and he fell for my trap hook, line and sinker.

I came home to discover very incriminating documents were missing from my file. I had hid the diary. That was too hard to copy.  I asked  him if he had been in my briefcase and he denied it.  As if I thought he was going to confess to snooping!

I produced copies of the documents that were missing along with the file folder so he would know exactly where I kept things.  "Yes, I figured you were going to say that, good thing I made copies.  I'll never leave that briefcase unattended again!" I made a big production of replacing the documents back into the folder and I went upstairs with my briefcase.

I hid it under the bed and I came back downstairs. I went outside in the back yard and pretended I was working in the flower beds. Again, the whole back of the house is windows and he sat in his rocker watching television.  All of a sudden he disappeared.

I came in the back door, Precious greeting me.  I  was headed upstairs to see what he was up to and just as I reached that fifteen step, Precious flew by me and into the bedroom. I was milliseconds behind her and I found Chappy in the  master closet.  He stood there, bewildered, facing his golf shirts, slowly sliding them on the rack, as if he were taking inventory of his wardrobe.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking at my shirts. Why?"

"Looking at  your shirts?  Bored?"

"No! I was just seeing what I had."

I turned and walked back down the stairs.  I knew what he was doing, he was looking for the brief case.  I put Precious in the garage.  Chappy heard the door open and close.  I belly crawled up those stairs.  He wouldn't hear me coming until I was on top of him!

I reached that final stair, sprawled out flat on my stomach like a fine warrior that just finished the obstacle course, peering around the door frame, gazing at him as he flipped through my briefcase, hunched down like a thief scouting for the blue prints of Cindy's weapons of Chappy's mass destruction.

I jumped into action, "WHAT are you doing!?!"

He appeared startled. He had no idea that I would be back so soon.

Stuttering he said, "I'm looking for.....the bank statement."

"Bank statement?  The one you closed with out my  knowledge a couple weeks ago? What the hell do  you need that for and get the hell out of my briefcase!" I grabbed it from his hands as he got up off his knees.

"Let me make this perfectly clear to you, there is NOTHING inside here that is your business and if you think you can remove any thing and I won't miss it, you are terribly wrong.  YOU know me!  I track things like a blood hound and I have not only one set, but several, so don't think your removing  them from here, removes them from every set I have hidden from you."

"What are you keeping track of? There is nothing for you to keep track of!"

"Apparently there is or you wouldn't be looking."  I spun around on my heels and headed downstairs.  He was right on my tail.

"You think a couple of receipts is going to prove any thing.  They were business meetings.  You don't have any thing on me.  You never will!"

"I've got enough to make you sweat and worry.  That's all I am trying to accomplish."

I grabbed my purse and left.  I headed to Lorna's house. I didn't know where I was going, but I wasn't going to stay there. Let him continue to snoop, every thing was in the wheel well of the car and now, an extra set was setting at Lorna's.

How you can be so physically weak one moment and the next so filled with anger and fire, is beyond me. Some one far greater than I was fueling my will to survive as I prayed to Him every day, several times, "God, please give me the strength and courage to make it through this day." He never let  me down.

You've Been Served and we aren't talking cocktails!

I continued to weaken from lack of food and a broken heart.  Chappy continued to be passive aggressive.  He wasn't making a decision to "be  happy" yet he wasn't working on the marriage either.  He sent mixed signals.  After he made this announcement on April 7, 2000 that he was unhappy, I had an appointment to have a window measured for draperies.  I told him about it and asked if I should follow through because if he wasn't "happy" and unsure of being married, no reason to spend the money.  He assured me things would work out and to go ahead with ordering them.  He knew then, he was not staying around nor had any desire to work on the issues, whatever they were.

I made plans in the event he decided one day to spring on me that he had made up his mind and was leaving.  Kick me once, shame on you, kick me twice, shame on me.  Killer taught me, prior planning prevents poor progress. I was living by those words.

I spent a considerable amount time with my girlfriend from high school that summer.  She had two children and we spent time at Lake Lanier, the water park, camp sites, any thing to keep me away from  home, I tried to participate in.  I was not going to sit there at night and have him ignore me.  He could sit there alone like I did for seven years and just see how lonely it really can be.

In mid-July, I came home from work and he was standing in the kitchen holding some envelopes.  The look on his face was of one who had very mixed emotions, almost torn between right and wrong.  He started the conversation with, he had "been told" to do  something and after he did it, he felt terrible and he was going to reverse his action, but came home and "found this  in the mail."  

"So I guess YOU want out of this marriage and all along you've been telling everyone its me!" He  threw the envelope towards me on the counter.  I had no idea what it was until I saw the return address.  F.C Tucker Realty, Indianapolis, Indiana.  The Realtor I had contacted had sent me some information about housing options in the Indianapolis area.  It's not like it was an offer on a house or closing papers, it was just informational sheets on options should I need to exercise them.

He then handed me another envelope with a very large check inside.  "What is this?" I was the one confused now.

"I was told to do this before you did.  I went to the bank today and closed all of our joint accounts.  That is half of what was in it.  I felt terrible doing it, without consulting you but then I came home and found this! I guess you've been making plans all along with out me."

I have a word, several as a matter of fact that danced on the tip of my tongue. I was trying not to bite it off.  "I wanted this?  I'm the one that announced that I was dazed and confused over being married? I am trying to do damage control and still keep it together and right now I am not holding up well, as if you haven't noticed, I've lost fifty pounds, don't eat, can't sleep and cry at the drop of a dime.  I WANT THIS? You are sadly mistaken!  Some one TOLD you to do this!  Isn't that the way it always is, you  don't do a thing without some one telling you?  Some one told you to close our accounts before I did?  It's been three fucking months and I've not touched it!  And don't you think for one moment that I'd have to have someone tell me to do it. If I wanted to do it, I'd  have done it three months ago, spent it all and left you with nothing! Don't  you go and blame this on me! How are bills going to get paid?  How do I shop for groceries? Have you thought this out?"

He just stood there.  I don't know where this boost of energy came from but I exploded! He put me in the very position that I had told him before we got married and again, expressed when he wanted me to quit working, "I do not want to be like my mother and not have money or worse yet, have to ask for it." And there I was, in this boat, that he knew was the worse possible scenario for me.  My one weak point that I had shared with him and he played that card.

"I'll pay the bills and you just tell me what you need for groceries and I'll give you the money."  

Not only did he close our accounts, he closed the Visa account as well that I charged groceries on.  I was livid! I never thought he'd stoop this low, but he drew the  line in the sand that day. You want to play underhanded, you had better "strap your panties on Alice" cause I was now officially pissed off.

He had started carrying his phone and brief case where ever he went.  Guess he figured I had discovered a few things by leaving them out in the open.  I actually found humor in it and commented to several how he carried his brief case and phone with him, even to the bathroom.  Lock them in the trunk if you are so worried that I'm going to find out your secrets, but I had to play with his mind as well.  He wasn't the only one with secrets. I was keeping a diary on his every movement. I had copies of documents to support my suspicions.  I kept them in my brief case and I too, carried it around with me.

I really didn't find much humor in things at that time of my life, but I thought this was hilarious!  He started carrying his phone with him, when I came home late one night and he didn't hear me until I was right on top of him.  He hung the phone up so fast that red flags were bursting in the air, setting off alarms that something was amiss.

"Who were you on the phone with?"

"My sister."

"Why'd you hang up so fast?"

"I didn't. We were done talking."

"You didn't say GOOD BYE?  That's quite a crime in your family, or is that just for outsiders?"

He ignored me, put his phone on the counter and walked into the family room to watch TV.  They had just invented this cute little thing that you pressed,  Star 69 and it redialed the phone to the last number!  I picked the phone up.  I was getting good at these cell phone contraptions.  Star 69, oops, not your sista, mister! Unless ya sista lives in Tampa! He came out into the kitchen, I guess I was too quiet.

"What are you doing?"

"Just confirming you lied, you weren't on the phone to Sissy were you?"

"Do you know that cost twenty five cents every time you do that?"

Yes, actually I did and his company was paying the bill.  Wonder how he explained Star 69 charges on his phone every month.  I wish I would have just stood there and kept pressing it over and over, Ka-Ching, Ka-Ching, but I was more mature than that. He started carrying the phone and I started noting when he was on the phone, in my diary.  Eventually, that paper trail was going to confirm what I already knew.

After he split the bank accounts up, there was no hope for saving this marriage.  I had shared with Bev, across the street what he had done and she told me I needed to go see an attorney.  I didn't even know where to start.  Her sister had just been divorced and she'd get the name of the attorney she used.

She came over a few mornings later to check on me and I could barely function.  She insisted that I eat and made me toast.  I have never been so weak that I could not lift a slice of toast up to my mouth and chew.  I was beyond weak, I was teetering on not being able to function.

Bev stood there and made sure I ate the toast and she drove me to work.  She would pick me up later as she had made an appointment to see this attorney. She drove me to his office and he asked me the usual questions.  He told me what I was entitled to and he wanted to file and serve Chappy papers immediately. Bev, another friend for a reason, sat there next to me as I tried to get through this process.  I don't know how I could have done it without her.

He wanted the address of where he worked to serve him, but I didn't want to embarrass Chappy and have him served.  Didn't he say we could do this civilly?  What were the options besides serving him? And it cost money to have someone served! I wasn't about to spend money if I didn't have to.

Although I had been divorced, I did not hire an attorney when Killer and I divorced.  Killer did not have me served.  The papers were drawn up, signed, stamped, sealed and filed. I got a letter about two months after the fact stating on this date, my divorce was final. So sitting there in front of this attorney was new for me.

He needed a retainer of five thousand dollars and I wrote a check from my new checking account.  First check I wrote.  He'd draw up the documents and follow through on my requests.

Bev drove me home and pulled into the driveway.  I could have walked across the street, but I really was very weak.  Chappy was standing at the top of the drive. He was home early and he was pissed.  I'm sure he wondered where I was since my car was in the garage.  The neighbors were cordial to him, but they didn't treat him like they had before this all started going down and I'm sure he sensed it.

Bev was the one who told me he left that Friday that I drove to Indianapolis with suitcases in his hands minutes after I pulled out and was gone all week.  I didn't know where until the paper trail surfaced, but I had the information documented in my diary.

He wanted to know where we had been and Bev gave him some excuse. Several weeks later, Jack  had moved out.  I worked later than normal. I usually was home by three, but that day I didn't get home until after five and it was a hot day in Atlanta.

As I drove into the neighborhood, I noticed a car setting in front of the house, the driver door open and some one's feet on the pavement.  The neighbor hood was one street that ended in Cul-De-Sacs so we didn't get a lot of traffic and no one parked on the street with the door opened, waiting.

I pulled up, looked at the man sitting in the driver's side.  Drove up the drive way and came down to retrieve the mail, this man was walking up the drive way toward me.  My first thought was "oh great, another salesman!"

"Mrs. Cindy Schafer?"

"Yes."

"You've been served." Just like that, in my own driveway, where everyone could see, he had me served. No warning. No call to tell me he'd seen an attorney. Nothing to prepare me for that moment.  Had I been smart, I would have been suspicious and just gone inside and locked the door. But I wasn't expecting this.  I was upset at first, but I was also chuckling.  He knew when I got home, so he probably had the guy waiting there for me.  He had to pay him to sit there for over two hours.  So, it cost him just a little  more to serve me. 

I had been so concerned about having him served at work and the embarrassment of it.  I guess from this point, I'd not have to worry about how he felt.

The Paper Trail is starting to Form

In June, Chappy lost one of his Aunts.  Min's oldest sister.  I asked him if he wanted me to go home with him to the funeral and he said no.  I didn't say anything, but I wondered if every one else knew that there was another woman or would they wonder why I didn't attend the funeral.  Would the relatives outside of the immediate family think I was inconsiderate for not attending the funeral with my husband? 

I had written to Min when I first suspected Chappy being misguided.  I reached out to the enemy asking for help. The woman who chided me on my lack of commitment.  The woman who seemed to be a very active part of our marriage, would she be able to talk to her son and bring him back on course. I really don't know what I was thinking.  In my right frame of  mind, I would never have reached out to her, but I was desperate for answers.

Chappy stayed at his parent's home when he returned for the funeral.  He never called home once.  I didn't expect him to as it was no longer a habit of his, but down the road, I discovered he was on the phone, a lot, to a woman in Tampa.  I wondered how he pulled that off, talking to her, under his mother's roof, without her knowledge. Did he go off to another room for these private conversations? Did his mom consider him to be rude and standoffish when he whispered into the phone to his mistress or did she even know.

Chappy came home filled with more anger than he had left with.  His mother had printed the emails off that I had sent her and confronted him.  I don't know exactly what she said to him, but he was angry that I had shared or "problems" with her.

"Isn't this what you've always wanted, for me to go to her with my problems and have her share her wisdom with me, guide me, enlighten me? This is what you always preached, listen to her she is a wise woman. You didn't tell me there were perimeters as to what I could talk about."

Whatever she said to him, he was not happy and he told me to leave his mother out of this, she had nothing to do with our problem. I struck a chord, she had every thing to do with our problem, but he didn't need the pressure from her, the guilt that she could apply with her words or her look. He needed to lay this all on me so  he'd remain this glowing star in her eyes. I was the crazy one, that's how he was going to sell this.

Our life went on. We still went to dinner on Fridays and to the movie.  Nothing changed except the tension in the room. We still held hands, we still cuddled in the movies and at home, but the warmth was gone, it was just an old habit, a comfort of two souls that were broken.

I spent a lot of time with new friends.  Anything to not be home when he was and he was home a lot now that he was in limbo with his job. His job didn't exist so he was waiting in the wings for Don to retire so he could replace him.

I spent a lot of time emailing friends and family.  Chappy never used the computer. He was on it most of the day and he had his laptop from work. But once he discovered I had been emailing,  he started snooping, into the email account.  I never suspected a thing as he never used the computer.

He started twisting things around, playing with my mind, giving me enough to let me know he "knew" something but twisting it so that I thought it came from a source and not my emails.  I started becoming paranoid about talking to anyone as the information he was leaking were things I had shared with his cousin's wife.  I trusted no one, until I figured it out one day and changed the password.  He wanted to know why I changed the password and I told him I didn't.  Reeling him in to see if he'd confess.  "Why would you ask if I changed the password?"

"No reason."

"Did you try to read my private emails and discovered you couldn't access the account any longer?" He didn't say a word, he just glared at me. I knew if I changed the password and he didn't  have access to my emails, the mind games would end and they did.

I needed to get away, but I did not want him to know. I sensed if he knew in advance, he'd have time to make plans himself, so I didn't tell him.  I shared with the neighbor one evening that I was going back to Indiana. Aaron knew some thing was different, he and his wife lived right next door and we had spoken many times, in fact he was the President of our homeowners association and I was the secretary.  I told him I needed to get away and wouldn't be able to attend the next HOA meeting.

A few days later, the day before I was scheduled to leave, he was outside talking with Chappy. I was watching from inside and I could see the change in Chappy's demeanor.  Some thing was lighting a match under him and he turned to come inside.

"When were you going to tell me you were going to Indiana?  I have to find out from the neighbors that you are leaving to go on a trip? Were you even going to tell me?"

"We don't share those things anymore, remember? And you of all people do  not  need to know my every movement."  I went up to the bedroom and started packing.  My plan was to leave the  next day after he left for work and not tell him where  or how long I would be gone for. But Aaron let the cat out of the bag.

I got up the next morning and packed the car. It was an eight hour drive back to Indianapolis.  It was 7:30 and he was still there.  He was always gone early.  We stood in the kitchen and he wanted to know who I was staying with.

"I don't know."  I knew my itinerary.  He just didn't need to know it.  

"I think this is good for us. Some time apart.  To think without interruption.  Let's just not  call each other this week and when you come home maybe things will be better." Was he serious?

I don't even remember all that was said, except I left crying and cried for the next eight hours.  I drove to Fishers, to the home of my former neighbors. Precious was with me and we stopped to say hello.  I walked in and I must have looked like death warmed over.  I was weak.  I hadn't eaten.  I had lost a lot of weight and I was shaking like a leaf.

Jean called my friend Patty to tell her I was in no condition to drive. I was staying at Patty's house on the east side of Indianapolis for the week. Patty drove up to Fishers and was going to drive me to her house, but I insisted I could drive.  I loaded up Precious and followed Patty to her house.

Friends.  I have so few, but those I have are dear to me.  I spent the week. I sat by the pool and I cried. I got angry.  I was sad. I felt every emotion one could experience. I was empty and numb by the end of the week and I had to drive home.  I held up the bargain.  I didn't call and neither did he.

I drove home and he wasn't there. He came in late that night, suitcase in hand. It was Sunday.  "Where  have you been?"

"I drove up to Augusta for the weekend.  I wanted to see what the area looked like, you know the golf course where they play the masters."

"I thought that was a private course.  You drove to Augusta to just drive by the course for the whole weekend?"

"Yes.  YOU went to Indiana, am I questioning you?"

Guilt and lying cause humans who are not comfortable with the two, to become defensive.  A professional liar, believes every thing they are telling you and are quick on their feet to respond to answers.  An amateur, stumbles, won't make eye contact with you,  makes mistakes, can't answer questions about the unknown and reverses the guilt on to you for questioning their word.  Chappy was an amateur.  He exposed his hand way too early in my simple conversation.

If he had left on Friday, it would have been late.  He was back Sunday, yet the suitcase, was more than a duffle bag and what he forgot to remove, was the airline ticket sticker that he'd checked his bag.  I know, because I always took care of the luggage and removed any tags.  This was not a bag he used when he flew for business.  Chappy had been on vacation. I was sure of it.

When the evidence is gathered and pieced together, he flew out of Atlanta two hours after I left on the Friday morning that we stood in the kitchen, he headed to Tampa for a week and by the looks of his company credit card statement, he had a pretty nice vacation with a woman who lived in Lutz, Florida, a suburb just north of Tampa.

Paper trails, whether they are on your personal card, phone or a business card and  business phone, can be discovered.  He thought he was hiding every thing, yet he was laying the trail that supported the diary I kept of his discrepancies.  All I had to do eventually was match them up to my notes and I had him in the palm of my hand.  Time is valuable.  If you wait patiently, time will provide.  Whether it is to heal a broken heart, forget a love from your past or to gather the information you need to smell victory, you must be patient.