8.13: Good, Better, Best, Dead

"Daddy... Is mommy really gone?" Marlo asked me, staring up at me with wide eyes.
   "She's not gone, honey." I said, struggling with my words. How was I suppose to explain this? "We just aren't living together any more."
   "Cause you aren't married?"
   "Yeah... Sorta."
   "But mommy still loves me? Daddy does she hate me? Would she us marry you cause of me? Daddy?"
   "No, no! Of course not! Mom loves you and Phoebe from Pluto and back still and so do I."
   "Hey, when are we gonna visit?" Phoebe asked me, as she came into the kitchen.
   "We're sorting out... Mommy was thinking maybe she gets you every other week during the times when there is not school and when there is school she gets you every weekend."
   "Gets us?" Phoebe asked, her face crumpling up into a cringe. "We aren't possessions."
   "I know you aren't. We are going to try the best we can."
   "Mommy was gonna sign me up for ballet classes at the dance studio cause I liked the resort lessons."
   "I can sign you up."
   "But ballet is girly! You're a boy."
   "Boys can do ballet."
   "You're my daddy, though." She giggled.
   "Ugh. Marrie, there's more important stuff. Like mom is the one who cooks."
   "I can cook!" I exclaimed. "Besides, don't worry."
   "Dad." Phoebe said.
   "Dad." Marlo repeated.
   "How can we not?!"
   "I know this is gonna be difficult-"
   "Nunuh, gamma and granny are together. You don't know." Marlo said, sticking her tongue out at me. "Liar."
   "Marlo! Don't do that, it isn't nice."
   "You and mommy unmarried. That is not nice, too."
   "I'm the daddy. It is different." Marlo glanced at Phoebe who shrugged, than pointed at something I couldn't see.
   "Dad." Phoebe asked patiently. "Marlo needs ballet clothes." Marlo enthusiastically nodded her head in agreement.
   "Why don't you wear your play shorts and sneakers and that shirt-"

   "Tank top, daddy." Marlo corrected me.
   "And that tank top mommy bought you?"
   "Because, they aren't meant for ballet."
   "I don't want to buy you a new wardrobe for classes you may not even like."
   "But daddy!" Marlo whined. "Pllllleeeeaaaassssseeeee?"
   "Mom would buy her ballet clothes." Phoebe shrugged. Dammit. The mom card. If I didn't I would be the mean one and since they were living with me the majority of the time, I “couldn't let them think that.
   "How about we compromise? I'll buy you ballet flats and after you go to one lesson and you decide you like it we'll get you some nice clothes."
   "Okay..." She said, glancing at her older sister who winked, as if to say told you we could convince him. "Can Wendy take me?"
   "Wendy?"
   "Mrs. Buboes?"
   "Her last name is buboes? That's unfortunate... Why do you want to go with her?"
   "Because, Phoebe lovvvvvvvesss Quentin."
   "I do not lovvvvve him!"
   "Yeah you do, he's your booooyyyyyfrrriendd."
   "No he isn't! He is a boy and... Dad, make her stop!" She crossed her arms and glared at me, which prompted me to ask my youngest to stop pestering her sister about boys and love, something that a fourth grader shouldn't care about.
   "Okay." Marlo said.
   "Thank you." Phoebe said. She had handled the news about Maya's departure quite well. Apparently Maya had favored Marlo much more because Phoebe would let her treat her like a Barbie doll, causing a bit of tension between the sisters. Surprisingly since Maya moved out, they were both behaving better.
   Marlo wasn't as open to sharing her emotions towards the event; she was a closed book unwilling to share what she thought. I assumed she wasn't completely messed up, because she didn't act out at home or school. Who knew, though. Maya was he one who was around mostly when she was a toddler, Maya was the one who instilled her values and opinions.
   "Would Mrs. Buboes be okay with me asking?"
   "I dunno. She went to PTA with mom." Phoebe said. "She's nice. She baked up cookies."

   "She's fat." Marlo said.
   "No she isn't. She just isn't a stick."
   "Mommy said she is fat."
   "Mom was wrong."
   "Nooo, mommy was right. I saw Wendy at the beach, she was wearing this bikini mommy says only skinny, pretty people should wear cause you would see her chubby tummy."
   "Marlo, people are all different shapes and sizes. Just because they aren't smaller like you or Phoebe doesn't mean they are fat. If Mrs. Buboes is healthy that is all that matters. Besides, it really isn't any of my, your, or mommy's business."
   "Okay... But I'm smaller than Phoebe."
   "You're younger." Phoebe said. "Of course you are."
   "Girls, it doesn't matter." Weight was a sensitive subject for females and I knew that with the fashion industry and all these other things people blame you should make sure to establish that healthy isn't just a low number on the scale. Maya must have taught my littlest girl that the opposite was true; I'd have to make sure that she didn't teach the children any more crazy things.
   "Okay." Okay must be Marlo's favorite word, because she used it so often.

Marlo's Point of View...

   I looked at my outfit in the dance studio's mirror. Daddy had bought be blue ballet shoes that matched my tank top mommy got me. Mommy would have got me a leotard, too, but for now just shoes were okay. I knew I was gonna love ballet and after I confirmed that, daddy said we could ask Mrs. Buboes to take me shopping. Phoebe had begged me to ask him that, since she liked Quentin. I don't get why she likes him, cause he is always poking her or pulling her hair or something mean like that. Phoebe's gonna be in fifth grade soon, which is the top of the elementary school, so that means she is  older than everyone and awesomer.
   "Class, class, please gather around!" The ballet teacher, whose name was something funny sounding that I could remember, said. I glanced at the other kids, six girls and two boys, who all had on ballet leotards or tutus or something meant for me. I looked dumb with my shorts and tank top. "Alright, welcome to the beginner's ballet class. Let's go around the circle and say our name and age, alright? Do you want to start?" She pointed at the boy sitting next to me, who nodded.
   "My names is Harold Arnold Jonathan Saint Peters Junior. I am eight."
   "Wow." The teacher said. "That's a long name. Can the class call you Harry?"
   "Yeah." Harry said.
   "Class, say hello to Harry."
   "Hi, Harry." We all said.
   "I'm Paris." The girl to Harry's right said. "I'm five. I'm named after a city in France. My mama's from France."
   "Hi, Paris." We said. We said this after every person said their name, until it got to me.
   "I'm Marlo. M-A-R-L-O. I'm seven." The class looked at me and I could tell hey we're judging me. I looked different, my outfit was different, my hair was different, and I didn't look as pretty and stick-ish as they did. Mommy said skinny was pretty and they all had smaller bones and whiter teeth and shinier hair, just like the ballet posters on the wall, so they were prettier.
   "Hi, Marlo." They said after what was probably a whole year of judging me.
   "Alrighty," Ms. Ballet Teacher said, "So we have Harry, Paris, Marcy, Hattie, Alexandra, Nicole, Jared, Bethany, and Marlo. What a wonderful class! Let's begin. First," she began talking about stretches, which was boring, and we did stretches, which was fun.

  

 After the class I told daddy about it. I have decided that I like ballet. I have decided that I am going to be the best possible ballerina in the entire universe, including the one the aliens live in. I am Marlo Janes and I'm a ballerina.

8.12: Finding Out

NOTE: *Squints off at the horizon* HOLY GUMMY BEARS IS THAT A CHAPTER? Yes, yes it is. This is a chapter.... so, um, heeeeeey,  *waves spastically* long time no see. Glad you're still reading. So, I'm still alive and writing, my computer is just being a pain an I've started school again and it is overwhelming for me. So, yeah.  Also, a little bit of stuff, language, etc. 

  "Girls..." I said, taking a deep breath, "I... your mother and I..."
   "What, daddy?" Marlo asked me, staring at me with her large brown eyes that were filled with the innocence only a seven year old could possess, as she sat on the park bench. "Mommy and you what?"
   "Um... we want you to have ice cream." I lamely finished. I couldn't tell them now. Not now. It was a beautiful sunny day and the girls and I were at the park. Maya was suppose to come with, but she said she was feeling bad and that her monthly visitor, ehem, was causing leg pain. In our twelve years of marriage she'd never used this as an excuse to get out of things, in fact she'd never complained about leg pain and it before, so either she was in an incredible amount of pain or she really didn't want to do this. I was guessing the last, because ever other time we'd planned on announcing the divorce she gotten out of it somehow. Of course, maybe the pain was real. I didn't know her that well; maybe I was confusing this single truth for a lie.

   "Dad, you grounded us, remember?" Phoebe said. "No sweets?"
   "Yes, but... this is different. Special. You girls have gotten along so well lately; you deserve a treat."
   "Phoebe, yay! We get yummy, don't complain." Marlo said, bouncing up and down on the bench. I gave them each a few dollars for ice cream and they scampered off to the booth, eager for a cold treat. I sighed, sitting down on the bench. How much longer could we keep this a secret? I knew it was my duty- no our duty, Maya should have to tell them with me- to, but I couldn't. They were so sweet, so innocent. They smiled so often and were filled with joy; I couldn't ruin that. I couldn't be the bad guy and let Maya be the good one who comforts them and tells them daddy is mean.

   No, I wasn't going to tell them here. I wasn't going to ruin the festival for them. I'd tell them at home, with their mother around. It had only been a week since we'd decided to end our marriage; I hadn't even arranged to meet my lawyer yet. A few minutes wouldn't hurt anything. I had told Maya we'd be out about an hour, but coming back early would be fine.
   "Look daddy!" Marlo said, coming back with a freezer bunny pop. "Isn't he cute?"
   "Um, yeah." I said.
   "And he's yummy, too!"
   "That's good. How is yours, Phoebe?"
   "Good." She smiled. "I gott a vanilla cone with rainbow sprinkles; mom never lets me have sprinkles cause she says the dye is bad for you."
   "Well, I want you to have what you want. Hey, i was thinking maybe we could go home and talk with mommy. Is that okay? You can eat your ice cream in the car and it is hot out here."
   "Okay." They said at the same time. I stood up and walked with them to our car. The drive back was quite quiet, much to my surprise. "Girls, did you finish?" I asked, once we pulled into the driveway.
   "I did." Phoebe said, holding up her empty hands.
   "What do I do with the stick?" Marlo asked.
   "Put it in your pocket and throw it away inside." I answered, as I exited the car. I walked up onto our porch the girls following me. I was about to open the door, when a man opened it for me.

   "Dude! She is fudging insane."
   "I- excuse me?! And could you please not curse, the children." I glanced at him; he was muscular, wearing a fireman's hat and boots and tight red shorts. Did Maya hire a prostitute or stripper?
   "Whatever." He shrugged. "Least I got paid." He flashed me fifty dollars and then leisurely strolled past me, to the bike that was thrown casually to the side against the home's wall.
   "Daddy, who is he?" Marlo asked. "Why was he not wearing a shirt?"
   "Did mom pay him?" Phoebe giggled.
   "Girls, why don't you play outside, I'm going to chat with mommy." I sighed. So much for telling them ASAP. They both looked up at me curiously, than wandered off to the backyard. I opened the front door, to see my soon to be ex-wife sitting on the couch in a black corset and maid's headpiece. "What the hell, Maya?" I shouted.
   "Harbor... did you see him?" She smirked. "You weren't suppose to be home this early, I can't help it if you were..."
   "What happened? Did you pay him to... you know. Was it just a little light hearted fun? Or did you...? Why? What happened?"
   "You sound like a worried parent interrogating your teen. Relax." She rolled her eyes and quietly  kicked away a blue box that said XL on it and was opened. Dammit.
   "You expect me to relax? My wife is dressed up like a sexy maid and a man in a firefighter stripper outfit just exited my home!"
   "So you do think I'm sexy?"
   "I haven't told the kids yet. We need to."
   "Ugh... Harbor." She began playing with her hair, glancing around the room.
   "What happened?" I paused for a couple seconds and when she didn't answer me, I continued. "Fine. Let's go to the courthouse tomorrow. Make it official."
   "I won't go. I won't tell you anything. Look, I'm feeling... like staying together."
   "What?! Are you insane?"
   "Maybe." She shrugged. "Probably not."
   "I'm going to contact a lawyer."
   "Look, I'll do what you want if you agree to what I say. And sign that." She gestured to a piece of paper on the coffee table.
   "What is it?"
   "Oh... just, well, we didn't sign a prenup so technically we both get half, but this just protects my assets."
   "You are not getting half! I earned the money it is in my name-"
   "This paper simply states that in the event we were to ever stop being together, I got the car, it would be transferred to my name, but you'd still pay for it, all my clothing and jewelry is still mine, you'll buy me a nice home and pay for it, and I don't have to pay child support or whatever."
   "What about custody? You wanted children so badly-"
   "Harbor. They're so needy... they drain the resources we have. I want a resort, but because of Phoebe's tutor you said no. They ruined my body; I have yet to lose the last fifteen pounds I gained from being pregnant with Marlo and my stretch marks are horrible. Oh yeah, also you'll pay for any plastic surgery to reverse damages to my body that happened when we were together."
   "No! Our children are wonderful and I'm not going to pay for you to be injected with chemicals-"
   "I'm not telling you anything, than. I'm not signing anything. I will not go to court."
   "Stop being childish."
   "Speaking of childish, if you don't sign this I'm going to tell the court that you forced yourself onto my. You stalked me, than after we met you forced yourself onto me and I ended up pregnant."
   "Are you..." She had to be insane. If she did that, I'd never be able to live it down. Ever. The rumors alone would murder my career, I wouldn't be allowed within fifty feet of my children. I couldn't visit their school or see their projects or recitals.

   "Harbor. You. Ruined. My. Life! I will make your's hell, okay? You will suffer until you sign on the damn dotted line."
   "You can't do this! I'll get a lawyer."
   "Oh, please. The mother almost always wins in court. The judge has so much sympathy for the poor girl, so young, so naive."
   "You're four years older than me!" She shrugged, batting her eyes at me.
   "I will ruin you." The toxicity in her voice was so apparent, I thought I might need a hazmat suit. "I want my perfect life, okay? PERFECT! I am thirty-four years old and I'm living like a lower middler class female who is forty. I don't want that. No, I want perfect. Give me perfect, Harbor."
   "Are you insane?"
   "No." She glanced down at her feet and for a minute I saw a flicker of humanity in her eyes. She wanted perfect and I couldn't give it to her. "Harbor, please."
   "Did you sleep with him?"
   "It looks like I did." She winked at me. "Of course, you're my husband... one last time?"
   "Rain check?" I said, hoping to distract her enough that she forgot about the contract.
   "Sure." She shrugged. "Please, Harbor, sign."
   "Maya, can't we work something out? Something more civil?"
   "Please? For me? if you do... I'll let you have full custody. When they're in school, you get them on weekdays, I get weekends. Over breaks, we get them every other week. It is in the contract."
   "If I don't sign what happens?"
   "If you don't, the sex offender thing."
   "Is there a third option?"
   "No... this is my version of civil."
   "I... I..." I took a deep breath. Sure, I could fight and drown myself in legal fees. I was already barely floating, plus with the emotional stress the children would go trough if I fought. I had said yes to so many things I wasn't okay with, one last time couldn't hurt. On last yes to get me, and Marlo and Phoebe, away from the monster named Maya. "Yes."

   "Oh, Harbor!" She squealed. "Thank you so much." She handed me a pen and I shakily signed my full name. She stood up and began walking up the stairs. "I'm going to go get dressed and drop this off with my lawyers... by the way, you probably should tell the children that we're getting a divorce, it'll be simpler to explain."
   "Simpler?"
   "Oh, you didn't read the contract?" She said, playing dumb. She knew I didn't; she saw me hurriedly sign. "See, it says in the event we break up... Break up, Harbor. You know who breaks up? Girlfriend and boyfriend. See, we were never married. I could tell you the legal jargon, but I think simple is best. We never got married. I wasn't entitled to anything, but now I get, well I told you. New home, the car, jewelry, clothes." She giggled and waved the paper in the air. "You signed."
   "I didn't know you- you bitch!"
   "Oh, see there's this section that says you read and know. I explained the not married thing in here. Should of read it. Sucks that you didn't." And with that she pranced up the stairs, a smirk on her face and a spring in her step. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.
   I couldn't fight this... well I could, but I wouldn't. I wasn't going to put the children through that; I mean, at least I got custody. But, dammit. She tricked me. What happened to us? What happened? Dammit, who knew?