1.8: Moving On

     Johnny found out. Johnny found out about my bulimia. He was horrified that I'd do something like that. For three years since, I'd been going to therapy. Johnny honestly cared about me, he just had anger issues. Everything he does, I can justify. It's my fault. He hits me, then he apologizes. He tells me that it'll be the last time. It never is. He never told me what fueled his anger.  I'm tired of this. Johnny stopped emotionally abusing Alex, but he takes everything out on me. I hate him. I wish my commitment issues kept me from marrying him. It's weird. I can't commit, until I shouldn't.

  I though silently  as I rubbed my arm. It was black and blue and hurt like hell. The result of Johnny's last fit of anger. I can't tell anyone. What would Johnny do to me if I did? I climbed out of the elevator and wandered over to the mail box. I leafed through all the bills. Cell phone, water, the car payment, my therapy bill. A letter from the Appaloosa Plains' courthouse. I signed off the bills, then opened the letter addressed to me. 

To Whom It May Concern:

   We are very apologetic, but it appears that your relative is deceased. Please call us, at 1-800-SOM-1DYD

                                               

                      Appaloosa Plains, Department of Public Health

     What? Someone died? Who was it? I flipped out my cell and dialed. One eight hundred someone died. Gee, that's a nice number.

     "Appaloosa Plains Department of Public Health. How may I help you?"

     "I received a letter." I blubbered.

     "Oh, sweetie." The soft, Southern voice comforted me. "What's you name, honey dear,I'll look it up in our death records."

     "Al-l-ly-ce Janes."

     "Alyce Janes? A-L-I-C-E?"

     "A-L-Y."

     "Okay, one minute please." I heard the sound of keyboard clicks. "Ah, yes. Sandra Janes deceased May ninth."

     "What? My mom? How?"
     "Let's see." She clucked her tongue. "Sandra Janes, female, Caucasian, oh! There it is. Suicide. She over dosed on pain killers and antidepressants."
     "Do I need to come back?"
     "She's had a private funeral. Don't worry, we try and make this as easy as possible."
     "The Will?"
     "The Will! Almost forgot, baby doll. You rich. You got fifty three thousand six hundred ten dollars and nine pennies."
     "WHAT?!" I always though my mum was dirt poor.
     "It's been deposited into your Bridgeport bank account."
     "Thank
you..."
     "Miss, do we need to put you on the line with a grief consular?"
     "No...I'm fine."
    "Alrighty deary." I hung up. I felt weird. My mother was gone...dead. I should feel like crying. But I didn't. I hadn't spoken to my mother in ten years. I called her once...told her about Alex. Johnny and I weren't dating yet. She yelled at me. Told me that she loved me, and she'd love her grand baby, but there's no way on Earth she'll accept it. Told me all guys are good for nothing, trying to knock up every soul they see. I told her it was different. She said, trust me. I thought it was too. I say I know this will work out. She told me to try and find a man as a twenty year old mom. I told her I had years to sort my life out. She said it was too late. I told her that I loved and respected her, but it was different. Johnny would understand. She said she thought exactly what I thought about Matt. About my dad. Look where it left her. I hung up. I never called her again. Look where it left me. The last words she ever told me. I was estranged from her. Hearing about her death was sad, but it was more like hearing about someone's death on the news. You feel sad; no one should die that way, or that young, or at all, but you aren't heart broken. You didn't really know them. I didn't really know my mom.
    "Oh, yeah. Give  it to me."
    "Huh?" I turned around to find Johnny, sucking face with someone that was way younger than him. He was thirty-six, yet still good looking, and I was twenty-nine.
    "Baby." The brunette slipped her hand down his shirt, unbuttoning it. He slipped his hands around her waist, squeezing her butt, kissing her chest. "Come on." She pulled her suit jacket off, revealing a skimpy yellow tank top, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to an apartment; her apartment.
    "Johnny...." I stood there, stunned.
    "Alyce, look. It isn't what you think."
    "Really?!" Hate and anger bubbled up inside me. I realized everything wasn't black and white with guys. It doesn't matter how much they do; how much you think you know them, they always surprise you. They always have a new side for you to love, or in my case loath.It looks like you two are about to do it!"
    "Alyce, you never want to anymore. Besides, she," He gestured to the stupid brunette, "does things you'll never do."
    "Like what?! I don't think miss nineteen year old old would push a brat through her-"
    "You mean will. I'm pregnant with triplets! And I'm twenty-one." She giggled.
   "Are you retarded?"  Idiot. I wasn't sure if I was calling myself or her that.
   "No, I just like se-"
   "With my man?!"
   "Look, you too need to work things out. And I only did it with him because I needed money for acting lessons. Then we started chatting and turns out we're really similar!" She awkwardly walked into her apartment, leaving me alone with Johnny.
    "Explain. Is she why you started all those years ago?"
     "Uh-" He paused. "Alyce..."
     "Tell me or I'm leaving."
     "Three year she and I started sleeping together. You were stressed with the babies and didn't want  to ever, you know..."
     "I do know! But sleep with another woman? That's why you hit me?!"
     "No...sorta....she was eighteen, looking for a source of income..."
     "I don't even want to know!" I screamed. "She a prost-"
    "No, no!" He gasped. "Lord no! I hired her as my secretary. We got to know each other and one day, she got pregnant."
     "You've been hiding a child from me!?" I screamed, wanting to slap him again.
     "No. Around five months, she had a miscarriage. She lost the kid. I felt so powerless, like I can't control anything in the world.....with you, I'm in control."
     "Your abuse is the way to make you feel powerful?! Look, boohoo, I get being upset about the kid. But hitting me?! Abusing Alex!?! You're insane! Physio!"
    "Alyce, babe, I love you. But she wants five kids! Five! You didn't want anymore and I grew up in a big family....I figure she could give me some more heirs." He tried hitting me, but I dodged.
     "Really? You love me? Isn't that a weird sentence. You love me, but you're going to sleep with the neighbor anyway. You love me, but you knocked her up. You love me-"
      "Open marriage?" He reached forwards to slap me, again.
     "NO!" I slapped him. "I HATE you. I'm too busy trying to please you to see that this relationship sucks! You're abusive and cruel....and I want a divorce"
    "A divorce? Are you insane? That'll take years, with legal fees and court dates. If we got an open marriage-"
    "I don't care. If you're going to have  that ring on, I better be the only girl you sleep with." I stepped into the elevator. I unlocked the penthouse, gathered up a few clothes, and picked up my two six year olds hands, and told my ten year old to grab  a toy or two and an outfit and to come on. I stomped downstairs, as Johnny stood there, stuttering.
    "Mommy?" Tiffani asked, confused.
    "Tiffi, we going."
    "We're leaving?" Jamie laughed.
    "Yes, Jamie." I hailed a cab and never looked back. "Courthouse." I instructed the driver, crumbling in the process. My commitment issues had taken the final stance.
    "Yes, ma'am." We rode in utter silence, to City Hall. I stormed into City Hall, furious. I walked in a legally married woman, with a politicians job, living in a fabulous penthouse. I walked out a divorced lady who was officially unemployed, had custody of her children, and owned a nice cabin that would be perfect for raising three kids. I never wanted to see Johnny again, and I'd never have to.
    The days past, and I was rather happy. I'd gotten a waitress job at a local cafe and hired a babysitter to watch the twins while I was at work. I worked nights and weekends, two to ten. My time with the children was minimal, but I wanted to be financially secure. I had approximately twenty thousand dollars left, which was a lot of money to someone like me, who was use to having half that, but I decided I wanted something more in life. Forget being Ms. Politician. I was going to work my way up and give my children the life they deserved. I was going to get fifty thousand dollars; I was already two fifths of the way there.
  "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb." I hummed as I whipped up two birthday cakes. If I learned anything from my slave waitress job, it was how to bake a decant cake. And that if you flirted with the customers and leaned down in your low cut dress, you got bigger tips.
   "Are you excited?" I asked Tiffani and Jamie. It was their eighth birthdays.
   "Yes!" Tiffi squealed.
   "I guess." Jamie shrugged. He was a lot more athletic then Tiff, and not so excited about academics.
  "Well, the cakes are done baking." I pulled them out of the oven, setting them on the cooling rack.
   "Can we eat them?" Jamie looked excited.
   "Not, yet silly!" Tiff giggled. We have to wait for them to cool!"
   "Awww."
   "Don't worry. It won't be long." I reassured him. "Besides, we have to wait for Alex to get home, anyway."
   "How long will that be?"
   "One hour. He's at the City Hall, delivering papers." Tiff said, before I could get a word in.
   "An hour?! That's like, a billion minutes!"
   "Actually, it's sixty." Tiff corrected.
   "Honey, I think he was exaggerating." I explained.
   "Oh.  I forgot about similes. Or, it could be an onomatopoeia. Or maybe a hyperbole, I get the two mixed up. Which one is it?"
   "Uh...the first one?" Jamie replied.
   "Simile?"
   "Yeah, that."
   "Wait! A hyperbole is an extreme exaggeration. Sorry, my bad."
   "Mom?" Alex walked in the door.
   "Yes, honey?" He was home early. I walked over and hugged him.
   "I got extra credit! I gave City Hall, the forms and my teacher gave me extra credit! I got an A in her class, now!"
    "Congrats! Would you like some cake?"
    "Cake!" He smiled. "We have cake?"
    "It's my birthday." Tiff exclaimed.
    "Mine, too." Jamie interjected.
    "I know. I was kidding."
    "Oh, darlings." I sighed, quickly frosting the cake and plopping eight candles into it. We sang happy birthday, then indulged ourselves in the chocolate raspberry cream cake Tiffi asked for, and the simpler yellow cake with vanilla frosting Jamie wanted. "I have a surprise for you two." I handed both the twins a box.
   "What is it?" Tiff asked, excitedly.
   "You can open it."
   "Yay!" She cheered, ripping the paper off the box. She revealed a new outfit I'd bought from the mall. "Oo! It's so pretty! Thanks" She scampered off to the bathroom, to try it on. "Look!" She exclaimed, emerging a minute later in her purple and dark turquoise ensemble. "Open yours Jamie!"
    "Okay." He ripped open the package I'd given him. "Nikes? Thanks mom!" I smiled as he tried on his new sneakers. I'd done well picking out gifts this year.
   Two eight year old and a thirteen year old. It's hard to believe...wow. I left Johnny three years ago and had never looked back. I wonder if he ever remarried...what happened to the eighteen year old brunette and the triplets. I know he wanted more kids, I just didn't know if he'd bother to stay with the dumb college kid. I could easily read the paper to find out, but I knew if I did it would bring too much pain. It took everything I had to run away from Johnny, if I ran back to him, crying, I'd never be able to leave again. He was cruel and abusive and he didn't know how to control himself. I felt slightly guilty, leaving him, those few years ago. He was nice, when he wasn't losing his temper, but I knew deep down that everything wasn't black and white. He had unresolved issues and me being there would only cause further turmoil. What happened if he lost control one dad and started beating the kids? I couldn't live with myself if that happened. I don't feel guilty, anymore. I feel safe.