"Overdone and Undercooked" Newspaper Columns©

I had called the local police a week ago because the property had just got annexed and no longer part of unincorporated Crown County.  They took my call very seriously and wanted me to call them a half hour before Nick was to arrived and they would have a civil escort until he left the property.  But I was so busy with the boys I didn’t, so who called them?  The neighbors.  Nick?

All the vehicles are now parked.  And three Sheriffs approach the house.  I watch as Brad literally jumps off the deck and bounces right over to the female Cop.  He is now shaking all the Cops hands.  I can hear a Cop say, ”Is she here?”

I hold my breath.  My legs are crumbling underneath me.  Loud and Clear I hear Brad say, ”NO, SIR.  She is not here.”  I lay on the floor and try to get my breath back.  My heart won’t stop pounding.  I know Nick wants in the house. It was not enough.  He wants everything.

Then my cell starts ringing.  I see that it is Trish.  I jump to my feet quickly to get the ringer off.  I peep out the open window.  I open the bedroom closet door .  I close it behind me, slowly and in the dark in a whisper.  I call Trish back.  She wants to bring lunch over for everyone!!!  My little old lady neighbor upset that we do not have food (I love her) tells me she is coming over to bring us LUNCH!!!!

”OH….NO, NO, NO, NO.  Trish you are so kind and thoughtful, however, I would be in a lot of trouble.  Nick is so confrontational that I know if he sees me, it will be trouble.”  I explain that there are Sheriffs here.  And as soon as it is over I will come over to see you.  It took a solid 5 minutes to convince her NOT to come over.

 

 

”Honey, why would anyone dump you, your beautiful.  I would do you in a minute.  Brad nods and says, ”Now, look, Jillie.  Here is my plan.  I am going to tell that pot smoking idiot that you are my woman.  Okay.  And that I am going to rent the bottom of the barn and need him to get his fucking shit out of here, quickly.  Right!  Right! he trailed off dramatically.  Cause your my woman.”

”Thanks, Brad,” as we lock eyes, his peepers seem a littly sleepy and droopy.  Not sure if it’s still lust on his part or he is already drunk.  I ignore It. I put my hand on the front door and turned dramatically, as I realize something so goddamn important, I almost forgot.  At this very last minute, I tell Brad that if and when Nick shows up supposed to be around 10:30am, please tell him I am not here,  just Brad please, just tell him, I am, not here, OK?  You can do that, right Brad?

With a thumbs up and ”No problem Babe.”  I close the front door behind me.  I am leaning on it trying to get my baring, trying to breathe.  I know Nick can be very intimidating. And hopefull confused by my new love interest.  Shaking my head in disbelief, I run through the living room and up the stairs to the second bedroom window that has the best view of the barn.

It is now 10:00 am

10:50 am a little truck with a little trailer drives up and the boys start laughing.  ”Look at that loser,” I hear Tom say.  Then the truck turns around and goes back down the street.

11:00 am.  No sign of Nick.  However, the boys are having a party down on the deck.  Music is blatantly loud.  Ice is clinking.  Another neighbor calls and wants to know who those hunks are on the deck.

12:00 Noon.  Not one but four vehicles:  Two with attached trailers come up to the house.  Directly behind them TWO SHERIFF CARS.

SHIT. SHIT.SHIT.  I start to panic in the upstairs bedroom.  I did not tell the boys that the police might come.  OH SHIT.  OH SHIT

 

I  shot Brad a look.  ”Modeling.” I say out loud and immediately regret.  ”Yeah, Babe pays good.  We both do it.” Brad said, as he ran a hand through his unruly hair.  I quickly looked back at the traffic, and paid attention to driving.  In the mean time, I found that Brad is 36, been married 16 years, his wife has been doing meth for three years, before he found out,  and she just split a couple months ago.  That Ben is 25 and ready to kick Nick’s butt.

OH. MY. GOD.  I’m just wide eyed, and in a parallel universe, right now.  I pull up to my house, with a lot of oooohs and aaaahs from the boys.  ”Love the barn man”, Jason says.  We pile out of the truck, and the guys start to set up a bar on the deck patio table, with paper cups and vodka.

It is now 9:30 a.m.

”Jillie, we need ice.  And do you got anything to eat.” Said, Brad with a look of desperation settled on his chiseled features.  I nod, ”Of course.”  I turn my head biting my lip. “Of course?? … I am broke.  There is nothing in the pantry but a can of garbanzo beans, that I will whirl in the blender with oil, and put on top of spaghetti for the next two dinners.

I start to unlock the front door when my cell rings.  It is my neighbor Trish.  Close to 75 now, she lives alone. I tell her what has happened, today.  She immediately wants to come over to my house, as she has lots of snacks. NO, NO, Trish, let me run over to your house.  And if you don’t mind. I will park the truck at your place until it is over.”

Trish fills my arms with chips, popcorn, etc.  I get back to the deck and now the two of them have their shirts off!  Brad is wearing shorts and wants to know if i have any sunscreen!  “Food, ice, sunscreen, I count off my fingers.  “Oh, and I see you brought music, as Jason was pluging in, what looked like a boom box. ”Un-huh.”  At the last minute, I tell Brad that if and when EX shows up, please tell him, I’m not here.  Just.. Brad please, just tell them I’m not here.  You can do that right, Brad?

Obviously, the first drink down, Brad starts to get amorous gets out of his chair and grabs my hand.

 

”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.