"Overdone and Undercooked" Newspaper Columns©

”Yeah, Clarence is a great watch dog.  Robbers could do whatever they want and good ole Clarence would just sit and watch.” Brad laughed.  ”Where is your (I almost said shirt) friend, Brad. ”Yeah, Jillie we gotta go pick up Jason.  Okay if Clarence comes?”  ”Sure.”  I said too cheerfully.

”Cool.  Clarence can sit with Jason in the back seat.  But first we got to make a stop at a convenience store.  I need some ginger to go with my vodka.”  The movie music stopped…as did my crush-like thoughts.

As I park the truck, Clarence starts whining in the back seat as I watch this Greek God go into the 7-11.  I realize he plans to drink at my house.  Talk about a rock and a hard place.  Brad comes strutting back with a sack in one hand and talking on his cell phone with the other.  I hear him say ”we will be right there Jason.”

He jumps into the truck seat giving Clarence a quick rub.  Then turns and looks at me again.  ”Yeah, Jason was partying all night couldn’t make it to my house so let’s go get him, girl.”

Younger, heavier all grins Brad’s co-hart Jason.  He squeezed himself into the back seat of the truck next to Clarence.  I tell the guys how my Ex is coming to the barn to pick up his things.  Since it is such a nice day, if they wouldn’t mind just sitting on the deck for a couple of hours, while he moves his stuff out of the barn.

Brad and Jason are chattering away like long lost souls.  About their time in prison, last traffic ticket, last girl, and their modeling days.

“Yeah?”  “We don’t have a car.”  ”WHAT?” “Yeah, you have to pick us up.” ”Pick you up.” ”Yeah.”  I take a deep breath.  ”Right, right sorry,” I say in my best life-keeps-punching-me-in-the-stomach voice.  I just, I didn’t .  Ok. you want me to pick you up?”

Sunday morning the June heat already rising at 8am.  I drove 20 miles to get to Brad’s address.  The whole way driving my beat up red pick-up truck I kept thinking .  Where did my life go?  Who are these people?   The address on the mailbox matched.  I shifted gears  in the truck and drove up hill on a dirt road to a little white house with black shutters and a red front door.

Orchard trees filled the side and back of the house.  I parked and the red door opened.  I could hear movie music.  He had no shirt on.  Only wearing a full 6-pack.  Sweat pants that laid real low on his hips.  His mop of blonde curly hair lay inches below his ears and dropping into his eyes.  His face adorned with a short stubble.

He started to walk towards the truck.  Or should I say strut.  He had a strut that made me want to get out of the car and tackle him right then and there on the dirt.  I rolled down the window and hollered, ”Brad?”  I got out of the truck and he walked towards me.  His handshake was smooth and his grip firm.  His eyes dead center into mine.  The feelings were mutual.  More said in a stare than words.

Damn Jilliie your 57 and good ole Brad gave me the up and down look with a huge grin.  My smile fell off when out of nowhere a huge black and white Pit Bull leaped on me, wiggling all, over.  “Clarence” Brad yelled.  “Sit down boy.” Brad’s thick curly hair bounced onto his forehead and it was all I could do to not push it out of his eyes.

My attorney took all the papers to the court where the Judge signed them.  The divorce was final.  In the final papers an agreed upon arrangement of Nick’s personal belongings was for the weekend of June 25, 2011 and his belongings would be in the Barn.  Any items left in the Barn will be forfeited by the husband.

Normally, articulate and well-spoken, yet not one word could I convince anyone to help me.  The neighbors were afraid of him.  Longstanding friendships didn’t want to get in the middle.  Finally because the last Sheriff was adamant.  Do not be alone when your ex-husband comes to the property to pick up his belongings.

When I told Nancy in Divorce Recovery she said she had an idea.”Well, my brother Tony,” Nancy said, as she grabbed her cell phone out of her purse.  ”He is a bouncer at a downtown night club.  I’ll call him.  Bet he knows a couple of bouncer’s who could stay with you.”  Later that day  Nancy sent me a text: His name is Brad.  He has a friend he is bringing.  Call this number.  Don’t worry about pay.  Just give them my brother’s name.

Not a second hesitation I was right on it.  ”Hello is this Brad?”  ”Yeah, who are you?”  ”My name is Jillie.  Tony said you could help me.  I’m in an unpleasant situation.  I need a bouncer for a couple hours this Sunday.”

”Yeah.”  ”I’m in this scary divorce.  And Nick, my Ex is coming to the house to pick up his things.  I just do not want to be alone.  “Okay.” ”Tony said he would pay and that you had a friend too.”  ”Okay dude.  No problem.  We got your back covered.  Can do.  Only one problem.

Buy the end of the summer I was back in court.

For the 3rd… Restraining Order.

The courtroom was packed with dozens and dozens and dozens of young people with Lawyers.

It made me ask the clerk what was going on?  He said, this is the DUI driving under the influence of drugs or alcohol courtroom.

The clerk brought me into the open courtroom to my Judge.  A few people were already seated in chairs.  They were awaiting their turn when the Judge would call their name.

When my name was called.  I was to stand up.

Of course, like the other, Two Restraining Orders, Nick was nowhere to be seen.

The Judge gave me a 10-year Restraining Order.

I was lost with words.  I breathed in as slowly as I could.  Trying to think what to say.  But tears clouded my vision and then exploded down my face.

I still had an attachment to Nick:  History, Memories, years and years together all this past was far from faded.

I stumbled and mumbled to the Judge about our long marriage.  She was impatient said: “Out Loud.  Drop it to Four Years.”

When I told Paige later that day she was infuriated.  ”I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”  I said. I tried to describe how hard, lonely, scared and unreal, 10 years felt to me.

 

I deliberately called 911 and hung up.  Because I knew the police would come.

I also felt sick that there was never any depression with Nick.  He just hid drugs and alcohol.  I did not know if he had a gun in his car.  Someway, somehow, I convinced Nick to meet me at a coffee shop.

As he stepped out of the doorway he spun around pulled out his keys waving them in front of my face.  He said he could get in the house at any time…and that parking cars in the field I am sure that is illegal, too.  His oily pocked frowning face hardly familiar.  I just nodded, as he headed to his car.

I had changed all the locks days after he left–13 months ago. I locked the door to the family room.  Then I ran up the stairs to make sure he had left.  I called back the police.  I told them I had hung up the phone, but I was in trouble.  I then waited for 5 minutes as the 911 operator had told me to.

Nick had gotten out of his car.  Screaming you bitch and pounding on the front door that was locked.  Two police officers came. ( This was now 5 police I had to deal with since March 2010.)  Nick went back to his car and told the police he needed in the house to get his belongings. “The police said to me that poor Nick just wanted to come in the house and get his things.  Now, why would I not let him come into his own house?”

I knew RIGHT then that Nick was playing them.

”WE ARE DIVORCED!”  The police officer face tightened. “That is not what Nick says! ” The police didn’t know that Nick had told them this was his house. I just kept saying no, no we are divorced to the officer until finally the tears started to come.  The police backed down they took it all the more serious and told me to go get the Divorce Decree.

When I came back they read it.  The shorter officer gave a low whistle and the other officer’s mouth fell open.  They both looked at each other in disbelief then back at me. Handing back to me the Divorce Decree the officer said, ‘Oh mame…i’m sorry it looks like we got layed.  When i came back the police said Nick was in his car parked at the end of the driveway. They started to walk down the steps of the deck  and turned around said to his partner, ‘The jerk has left already.”

I had to quit claim deed and decree with me constantly.  I had to show to the mortgage, to the police, etc. To afraid to tell them that he pushed me against the wall with a door.  The police told me to go back to court and get another restraining order now.

This would be the 3rd one.

I leaned against the closed door.  Biting my lip and clenching my eyes shut. Until i heard the knock on the family room door.

OH NO!  All this time my renters were standing outside, because i had locked the family room door.  They must have heard everything, I and the police said.  I apologized but my tears were ahead of my words.  I threw down the divorce papers on the kitchen counter.  Ran out the door and down the hill to my neighbor.

But I was lucky enough to have a caring kind neighbor, who herself had been involved with an alcoholic husand, and knew the push and pull of loving someone you can’t love anymore.  I kept crying that grandpa would ask for there money back.

In the morning it was Saturday and I apologized.  For the first time we all ate breakfast together with the two boys and grandpa.

They had one more week with me and stayed and never asked for their money back and never asked  questions.

 

 

One morning the teens and Grandpa had left and I was on the phone upstairs with my daughter. I looked out the window, and when I did, I was shocked to see Nick’s car.  He drove up to the barn and onto the lawn.  He spun his car in a circle, spiting out the dirt, under the wheels, tearing up the lawn.

A chill went through me, “Honey your Dad, has just pulled up and I didn’t lock the door downstairs..” “MOM!” she screamed. ” “I have to go.  I will call you back.” I went down the stairs and Nick was already standing in the family room.  I could see his enlarged pupils and smell the stench of pot.  All so familiar.

The only difference was the disheveled old man standing in front of me.  I don’t think he even saw the sleeping bags or the computers  or the messy floor.  The only difference was the last time I saw him he looked like him. Before me stood a dirty, bedraggled and unkempt old man.

“Get out of my house Nick,” I said loud and dark.  “THIS IS MY HOUSE,” he screamed.  “I will call the police.”  “Do it. I don’t give a shit.” I started to call on my cell, and it messed up, so I started to walk out to the kitchen to the landline. Nick came up behind me. And slammed my body against the wall with the door.  The door that led into the kitchen from the family room.  He pinned me behind the door.  My shoulders pressed into the wall.  I helplessly tried to loosen one arm as he is laughing.

He released the door and I ran down the hall.  I grabbed the phone and dialed 911.  I had the phone to my ear and Nick kept pleading.  ”I need to talk to you.  I need the spare car key, and my photos and…”  I hung up before speaking.  I could hear the Operator say 911. We had been down this road before.

Our last Christmas together. Three months before I found out about the affair and drinking. He started the bizarre behavior of quarreling about trivia. He hit me.  I said,if you hit me again I will call the police.   I called the police afraid of this stranger.

And then in the seconds I was holding the  phone I was thinking about our business, our lively hood, our daughter, 2 pines and a cone, everything destroyed over Nick’s depression that had reared its ugly head.  I could not let that happen, so I hung up.

I stayed on the phone when my renters left.  Our pitch for SEO was good in that it explained the process and how Search Engine Optimization (SEO) is often about making small modifications to parts of your website.

When viewed individually, these changes might seem like incremental inprovements, but when combined with other optimizations, they could have a noticeable impact on your site’s user experience.

And performance in organic search results. I attended online seminars. I had a a Manager that I spoke over the phone.  I had a script. I was to connect Home and Commerical security alarm companies.

And schedule a time to meet for 15 to 20 minutes. And to relay about SEO. And help bring in their business.  I never appreciated a job as much as I did that day.

When the boys left in the mornng I called. And when they came home, I stopped working.

And since it was summer, I had yardwork to do.

The boys had found my daughter’s Nintendo set.  They immediately knew how to set it up and played every day.  Both of them had brought their computers and were able to set it up in seconds, too!

Upstairs I would hear their laughter.  It would make me smile.  Which I rarely did anymore.  Especially since Chef Brock was out of my life until August quarter.  The boys would chatter and ride bikes both ways to their Baker. They would buy their own food, cook, and wash the dishes.  They would exercise. And Grandpa sometimes would come later.  So the boy always made their own dinners.

I rarely came downstairs when they were home.  Every morning I would find that the teens had fixed their breakfast and made their muscle shakes.  They even washed their dishes and cleaned the counters.  I could not have better roomates! When they would come home early evening, they spent most if their time outside.  It seemed to me that they made spaghetti pretty much every night for dinner.

I kept to myself.  I did not want to disturb their routine.  I didn’t want to talk about my troubles.  I never gave them a key to the house.  Because I was always home.

Now that I had found a job online.  The SEO job was calling on the phone six hours a day.  Five days a week to a list of customers targeting small and medium-sized business.  Hired because of my previous home-based work experience in Nick and my Business.

And I emphasize that I had exceptional Customer service and Relationship building.  Compensation will be a performance draw of $1,000 monthly base on the procurment of new accounts and monthly residual.

And as  I was about to say goodbye, I blurted out. “But I have a family room with its own entrance, bathroom, shower and TV.  And they can use the kitchen to make meals.”

“Would that work? ” The three showed up on our first hot June day.  Grandpa’s truck with the two teen’s bikes in the back.  The three piled out of the truck and shook my hand. The two 14-year-old boys introduced themselves.  One as just a friend of the family.  And the other introduced his Grandpa and himself as relatives of the Baker.  They were going to get up early to help the Baker  and be back late in the day.

Of course, right away they wanted to see the Barn.  Nick had thrown a rope on one of the pine trees and put up a swing on a high tree limb. Year’s ago when Emma was 12.  Grandpa was on the swing while the boys ran around the property.  There was no discussion about my situation and I was thankful they didn’t ask.

They set up sleeping bags in the family room on my curved sectional.  Grandpa handed me the $850 check.

Breathe again!  It felt like gold in my hands.  Breathe Innnnnn and Ouuuuut.

I showed them the closet in the family room for their clothes.  How the TV worked. And towels for the shower.  We went into the kitchen where the boys told me they would make protein shakes for breakfast.  So, I showed them the Vitamix, but then I turned around and the two boys were in the living room wrestling.

“Whoa! not in the house guys.”  They both yelped and grinned and ran out the door.  Grandpa came into get a cup of coffee and said, “Thank you for helping us.”I told him I would primarily be working upstairs and leave them be downstairs.

The boys took off every morning on their bicycles, and Grandpa drove off a short time later.  We had a pleasant routine for the first couple of weeks.

 

Culinary School is over for the year.  Hurray. No dish pit!  Boo no Financial aid. Told there would be no Summer School and no Financial aid.  Due to the Recession. They promised me that come August -when the classes would start again-I would receive a check.  Okay.  However, that leaves me with three months of no money.

I spent hours online looking for some telemarketing work.  I found a  job online to do SEO Search Engine Optimization.  We are an established Internet Marketing and SEO company.  We are targeting small and medium sized businesses looking for Sales Executives.  Compensation will be a performance draw of $1,000 monthly based on the procurement of new accounts and monthly residual.

Previous home based work experience, strong verbal communication skills, exceptional customer service, and relationship building.  Tomorrow is first hired webcam for the new group of hires.  The commission could save me but is it real?  I don’t know .  They say 1k base.   Who knows?  I don’t know.

I proudly now have the horse trailer, plus three boats, and two cars in the field!  Next, I want to rent my Barn.  I have a new Ad running on Craig’s list: 600 SQ FEET IN THE BOTTOM OF MY BARN.  GREAT FOR ARTIST, HOBBIES, ETC.

I received a call from out of state.  They had two teenage boys and a Grandpa that were looking to stay a month in town to help their Uncle run a Bakery.  They would bring bikes and ride each day to work.  The barn location was close to the Bakery.  The would pay $850 for the month because there would be three people.  They fiqured that would be the cost of a hotel.  Is the barn available?

I dropped to my knees.  I am on the phone with this stranger who sounds kind and offering real money!!  However, I quickly realized that there is no plumbing in the Barn.