He’s taking her to the doctor’s office and I’m about to spit nails. He won’t take his own daughters when they’re ill, but he has no problem leaving work early to take that little tart. The only reason I keep quiet is because with all this commotion, he’s forgotten about punishing me. I stood up to him where Boo was concerned and I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. There’s always a good chance he’ll get me later…
When the babies are napping, I decide to brave the basement. We still have boxes down there we haven’t unpacked; not many, but I don’t remember what’s in them. It has to be done and he sure as hell won’t do it. Just opening the door makes me nervous. I push it open all the way back and put a chair under the door knob, just to make sure it doesn’t accidentally close and lock me in there. In all truthfulness, the door doesn’t lock by itself. It needs help from human hands. Still, with my luck, if there’s a chance it can lock by itself…
I tidy up and put papers and junk in garbage bags. Little by little my stomach unclenches and I feel only a little scared. The first box I open has my things from way back when and it makes me smile. Yearbook, photos and treasures I’d saved. It makes me quiver inside. Don’t cry…look ahead…not back. These and other boxes I wish to keep, I pile along the back wall, where they won’t be damaged. I’ll cover them up with a sheet of discarded plastic. These boxes I’ll take with me when I leave…
Other boxes contain things we don’t need or want and I wonder why we brought them with us. I pile those up, by the bottom of the stairs, for the garbage. Other boxes and junk, I….there’s someone coming down here…from the other side of the house…I look over cautiously and I see Sandy with a basket of laundry. She pulls back a curtain…they have a freakin washer and dryer! I could almost cry. She looks up and she’s startled to see she’s not alone. She gives me that weak smile and says “Oh…Hi,” followed by “I didn’t know you were down here.”
I push junk aside and I apologize for scaring her. For awhile, there’s an uncomfortable silence between the wife and the mistress. I watch her from the corner of my eye…looking at her stomach for any signs of something going on. She slowly starts to walk towards me and I get real nervous. We stand and look at each other. Very awkward and my nerves can’t take it.
“I know all about it Sandy…” I finally blurt out. She stands there almost relieved but still shocked. She bursts into tears and…apologizes to me. To me…the wife...I put my arms around her, we sit on the stairs, the same stairs that have caused me so much pain, and she cries her heart out. I tell her she has to be strong for herself and her baby and never mind him right now. She looks up at me and in this little voice says “But I want him to be with me…I love him…” Is she asking me to let him go? I quietly tell her that, the moment he touched her, he was hers. I live with enough misery…I won’t live with this. And I dare to tell her to be careful…she just may end up in my position.
Next -> Paid in Full
