Behind Closed Doors (10 page)

“Hello?” Regina said.

“Hey, I just thought I’d call to see how you were.”

“As good as can be expected, I guess.”

“Have you heard from Larry since you left here?”

“No. Not one single word. I thought he would have at least called to see how I was, but I guess that’s not important to him anymore.”

“Maybe he’s just trying to let things settle because he knows how upset you are.”

“Right now, I’m more hurt than anything else. I’ve cried so much within the last twenty-four hours that I don’t even have any more tears left to shed.”

“I can’t even imagine what you must be going through, but I’m about to get upset myself. John got off work over three hours ago, and he’s still not home.”

“You don’t think he’s out betting on those horses again, do you?”

“At first I didn’t, but the only times he hasn’t called to let me know he’s going to be late coming home is when he’s sneaked off to the track. And I’m starting to believe that that’s where he is right now. And if he is, girl, this is it. I can’t put up with this shit anymore. I had thought maybe he’d taken me more seriously two weeks ago, when I told him he was going to have to get out, but apparently he didn’t. I love John more than life itself, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to keep living like this. My stom
ach is always upset, and I never had one problem with my blood pressure until I started all of this worrying about money.”

“Girl, you’d better think twice before kicking John out, because I’m telling you from experience, being alone is no fun. I feel so empty that I could just scream. And it’s only been one day. It’s just not worth it. Screwing around is probably the worst thing a man can do to his wife, and if I’m willing to forgive Larry for that, I know you can forgive John for gambling away some money.”

“But that’s just it, he’s not just gambling some money away, he’s getting rid of
all
of it. His whole freakin’ paycheck. And just maybe if I put his ass out, he’ll know I mean business and that he has no choice but to get some kind of counseling. Or at least start attending those support group meetings like I’ve been suggesting to him from the very beginning.”

“I still think you need to give him another chance. Talk to him one last time and get him to see that you guys can’t make it like this. Let him know that your income is the one paying all the bills. Men don’t like feeling as though they’re being taken care of by a woman, and that will probably change his whole way of thinking. Plus, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you did marry him for better or worse.”

“I know that, but I’m not putting him out because he has a problem. I’m doing it because he refuses to get help for it. This certainly isn’t something he’s going to be able to quit on his own.”

“Well, I know you have to do what you have to do, but please at least think about it some more. Maybe he’s not even at the track in the first place.”

“Oh, he’s there. Look how long we’ve been on the phone. The minutes are steadily passing by, and as you can see, he hasn’t showed up.”

Regina didn’t say anything.

“Listen at me. I didn’t mean to carry on and on about John. You’re the one I’m worried about, and that’s the reason I called you.”

“Actually, there’s not much I can say or do until I talk to Larry. Maybe he’ll be back tonight, maybe he won’t. Who knows?”

“He’ll be back. He can’t stay in Atlanta forever.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, I better let you go so you can get some rest. I know it’s probably hard to go to sleep, but at least you can lie down and rest your nerves,” Karen said, slipping off her panty hose.

“Shoot, I don’t know if my nerves will ever be at rest, because even if we work things out, I’ll always be worried about him messing around, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust him again.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying. Well, I’m going to let you go, and I’ll check on you first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, and good luck with John.”

“See ya later,” Karen said and hung up the phone.

Damn John for doing this to her. How could the per
fect husband become consumed with such a terrible habit? She didn’t know what she was going to do without him, and worse than that, had no idea how she was going to make ends meet. But then it was like she’d said before, she could do bad by herself. And she’d rather do that than continue with the way things were. If she was going to struggle to pay the bills on her salary alone, she was going to be the only one living here. Her decision was made.

“L
OOK, BABY
, let’s talk about this,” John said, sitting down on the side of the bed where Karen was pretending to still be asleep, the same as she always did when she didn’t feel like having sex. Except today, she was pretending for an entirely different reason. They’d argued half the night, and she wasn’t in the mood for any more of this mess. She’d told him what the deal was and didn’t see where there was anything else left to discuss.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” John continued. “I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday, and I definitely didn’t mean to go to the horse track. You have got to give me another chance.”

By now Karen was steaming. She rolled over and stared at him. “Didn’t I tell you two weeks ago that if you went out and blew all of your money, you were getting out of here? Didn’t I?”

“I know, baby, but damn. Now I realize I have a problem, and I thought about it all last night. I know I can’t do this anymore. I won’t even play the lottery. I won’t do anything that has to do with gambling. I mean it, baby.”

Oh shit, here he was in beg mode again. But, unfortunately for him, it wasn’t going to work this time. It hadn’t been until after ten o’clock last night that he’d finally brought his inconsiderate, sorry, and, once again, broke ass home. Thanks to him, she’d gotten partially dressed for nothing, worried herself half to death, and, worst of all, spent the evening of her thirtieth birthday completely by her lonesome. He’d known all along what the consequences of going on another binge would be. She thought she’d explained them pretty well, and still he’d completely ignored her.

She swung both of her legs from under the cover and hung them over the side of the bed. “Look, John. I can’t put up with this shit anymore. I just can’t do it. It’s a shame that we have to split up over money, but I’ve given you more than enough chances to stop this craziness. Maybe after we’ve been apart for a while, you’ll take our marriage more seriously, and you might just grow up.”

“I told you I’m through with gambling,” John said, raising his voice. He was easing out of beg mode and starting to get angry.

Karen stood up and walked over to the dresser. “I just know you’re not trying to raise your voice at me. Do you have any idea how much money you’ve blown over the
last couple of months? No, I’m sure you don’t. Eight weeks times approximately $850 adds up to sixty-eight hundred. Do you know how much the mortgage payment on this house is? How much the utilities run? How much the notes are on both cars? And let’s not forget about credit cards and insurances. I’ve been taking money from my credit union left and right to make up your gambling losses, and if I’m going to keep having to do that, I’m living here by myself.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to go, Karen,” John said, rising from the edge of the bed.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t care where you go, but I’m sure your mother would love having her thirty-nine-year-old little boy living back at home with her. Our separation will be the best news she’s heard all year. She doesn’t think you belong with any woman except her, anyway.”

John walked toward her. “Look, baby. I’m pleading with you. We can work this out, and if you love me the way you’re always saying you do, you’ll give me one more chance.”

He was looking so pitiful. Sort of like a five-year-old kid who’d just been caught with his hands inside the cookie jar and was sorry for it. As much as she hated to admit it, a part of her wanted to help him. “Okay, I’ll tell you what. If you agree to start going to Gamblers Anonymous on a regular basis, we can try and work this thing out.”

“I’ve told you before, I’m not some crazy person,”
John said, throwing both his hands in the air, clearly getting upset again. “I can control this on my own, and you’re just going to have to trust me on that.”

Damn. If she’d been on the phone with him, she’d have sworn they were having a bad connection. He was acting as if he hadn’t heard one word she’d said. The man had thrown away almost seven thousand dollars and still had the nerve to keep insisting that he didn’t have a problem. That he didn’t need some serious help. Shit. What tiny, little bit of patience she’d had for him one minute ago was gone.

“It’s either going to the support group meetings or moving in with your mother. Take your choice,” Karen said, brushing her hair and gazing at John through the mirror.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this shit. My name is on the deed to this house the same as yours, so really I don’t have to go anywhere. And that’s that.”

“If you don’t, your life with me will become a living hell. And if you keep pushing me, I’ll file for a divorce and get rid of your ass for good. Hell, I’m already to the point where I can hardly stand to look at you, and if we stay in this house one more day together, I’ll end up hating your guts. So, you see, you really don’t have any other alternative except to move out. That’s just the way it is.”

John stormed out of the bedroom and mumbled what sounded like the word
bitch
under his breath.

“What did you call me,” Karen screamed.

John didn’t respond, which meant she’d heard him right.

“You worthless son-of-a-bitch,” she yelled and slammed the bedroom door.

J
OHN HAD DELAYED
packing his things all afternoon, but when he’d realized Karen wasn’t going to change her mind, he’d finally started loading up the car. He’d taken all of his crisply starched jeans, sweaters, designer sweatshirts, casual shirts, and dress pants, but he obviously wasn’t planning on wearing any of his suits, because each of them was still hanging neatly on the rack on what used to be his side of the walk-in closet. Karen had expected him to try and reason with her one last time before driving off, but he hadn’t, and a part of her was hurt over it. It had seemed so simple to tell him to get out, but now that it was reality, it didn’t feel so good. He’d only been gone a couple of hours, and she was already trying to figure out what she was going to do without him. What if she’d gone too far this time? Her mother had raised her to be independent and to stand her ground when she believed in something, but she’d also taught her that a successful marriage was based on a sizable amount of give-and-take. John was a good husband, and maybe she hadn’t taken enough before kicking him out of there. But on the other hand, she’d been pleading with him to stop throwing all of his money away for two whole months, and with the exception of their joint sav
ings accounts at Bank First, the only other security money they had was the money she was saving at her credit union. And if she kept making weekly withdrawals from that account the way she had been, it wasn’t going to be long before that was tapped out, too.

She was in a catch-22 situation. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t. If she’d let him stay, he would have continued betting on those horses and she would’ve had to keep picking up the slack with her savings account. Now that she’d made him get out, she’d still have to keep picking up the slack with her savings account. It didn’t seem right, but the scenario had basically remained the same, and the only noticeable change was the fact that now she was all alone.

She lay across the bed with her eyes tightly shut, trying diligently to hold back tears, but it wasn’t long before she failed at it. She curled her body into a ball and wept so hard that her stomach shook repeatedly. She hadn’t cried like this since the day her grandmother had passed away. How could she have felt so good about telling John to get out and feel so miserable right now? None of this made any sense.

After sleeping for a couple of hours, she woke up at nine o’clock. John had been gone close to four or five hours, and she hadn’t heard one word from him. She knew he had every right to not call her, but still, she needed to know that he was all right. Her first thought was to call his mother’s house, but talking to that woman would only increase the intense pounding that was al
ready going on inside her head. She hated ingesting any kind of medicine, but she knew she couldn’t make it one more minute without popping two Advil.

She walked into the black-and-white bathroom off the master bedroom, reached inside the medicine cabinet for the bottle, turned on the gold-toned faucet, and filled a thin black ceramic cup with cold water. She tilted her head back and swallowed both pills with one large gulp. The bathroom was wallpapered in black and white, the huge tub and double sink were solid black, and the floor was tiled with smooth, snow-white squares. The decorative towels were black and white, the same as the soap dispenser, soap dish, and toothbrush holder. She was proud of the color scheme she’d chosen for their personal bathroom, especially since she’d dreamed of having one designed in black and white for as long as she could possibly remember. And for the first time since they’d moved into this house, she’d be able to keep it orderly and clean, something that had been virtually impossible whenever John had used it. Dirty towels on the floor. Hair clippings from his mustache and beard. None of that was going to be missed.

She gazed at her sorrowful-looking face. Her eyes were red and puffy, the same way Regina’s had been yesterday and basically for the same reason: an inconsiderate husband who didn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But then, maybe not hearing from Regina since yesterday was a sign that she and Larry had worked things out. Karen hoped at least somebody was happy.

She wished she hadn’t taken that scarf off earlier to brush her hair, because every one of the black strands sticking out from her head was flying in every possible direction. She looked like some schizo woman who’d recently flown the cuckoo’s nest and shouldn’t have. She looked bad. Pitiful was more like it. She stroked her hair down as best as she could with both hands and turned on the faucet again. She lowered her face into the sink, splashed it with semi-cold water, and patted it gently with the black velour towel. She stared at herself in the mirror again, hoping to see some improvement, but there wasn’t any.

She walked back out to the bedroom and stretched across the bed. She didn’t have an appetite, she didn’t feel like talking to anyone, and she didn’t feel like watching any television. She would’ve turned on the radio, but it was Saturday night and both WGCI and V103 were probably playing those stupid love songs—songs she usually went out of her way to hear but were the last thing she needed to listen to now that John was gone.

Maybe she should put her pride aside and call his mother’s house to see if he’d settled in. She picked up the receiver, dialed the first four digits, and dropped it back on the hook. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t. Because if she did, he’d think their separation was some sort of joke. She’d have to wait at least until tomorrow or the next day. Instead, she rolled over on her right side, fluffed the pillow, and prayed for the double dose of Advil to kick in.