Over the next hour I told them everything, the story of Barbara’s infidelity, the baby and Derek Andrews, spilling out all the anger and pain and frustration that had been overwhelming me for the last week. I held nothing back and didn’t try to sugar coat anything. Jimmy and Mike only stopped me a couple of times to ask questions and Colleen and Mom said nothing. By the time I had finished, Colleen and Mom had tears in their eyes and Colleen said, “No wonder you only wanted to tell this once.” After several minutes of silence, Colleen asked what my future plans were.
“Bright and early Monday morning I officially start at the San Miguel office of Willis, Goldman & Reed. After that I’ll just play it by ear I guess.”
From that point every one started in trying to carry on ordinary conversation and catch up on things from the last few years. All too soon lunch was started and finished and it was time for everyone to make the drive back to Santa Teresa. For the first time since we were kids, my brothers gave me a hug when they said good-bye and Mom hugged me like she would never let go.
The next day was Sunday and after church, Colleen, Meghan and Molly drove me around introducing me to my new hometown. The girls showed me their favorite parks and had a spirited argument about which restaurant had the best pizza. That night after the girls were in bed, Colleen and I sat talking late into the night and then I went to bed. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling again, trying to sort out what was happening to me.
At 8:01 AM the next morning I was seated in a chair across the desk from Mr. Harold Peterson handing him the envelope from John Gordon. He laid the envelope on the desk in front of him without opening it. He picked up the phone, punched in a number and said, “Miss Jennings, would you step into my office please.” A moment later a young girl that appeared to be a recent graduate from a secretarial school came into the office.
“Miss Jennings, this is Robert O’Conner. He will be taking over for Barry, would you show him around and to his office. Robert, Miss Jennings will be your secretary. When you’re done, come on back in here for a few minutes.”
After the tour, I was back in the chair across from Peterson. This time the envelope was open and a pile of papers sat in front of him. He got up and crossed the room to shut the door and sat back down. He tapped the stack of papers with his finger then spoke.
“John speaks very highly of you and his word is good enough for me. Did he tell you that we were room mates in college?”
“No, I don’t think he mentioned it.”
“Oh well… here is the plan. For the next six months you will be doing the same job you had in Chicago, only not so much of it at one time.” This he said with a small smile on his lips and then continued. “After that we will sit down and chart out your future with Willis, Goldman & Reed. Welcome to San Miguel.”
San Miguel was as different from the Chicago office as anyone could possibly imagine. Chicago had over 300 employees and was the stepping stone to get to corporate headquarters in New York. San Miguel had 65 employees and suits and ties were discouraged unless corporate drones flew in from headquarters. Working in this office was a welcome relief from Chicago and I fell into the routine rather quickly… same job, new faces.
Peterson was a dream to work for. He was 40% manager and 60% cheerleader. He set incredibly high standards for his staff then spent most of his time convincing them they could do it. As a result, our office had the highest profit margin in the company. I was able to meet and interact with all of the employees, even fake a laugh at the typical office humor. But inside I kept myself separate and apart, never letting down my guard for one second about my personal life. I was living inside a glass booth.
And then the numbness came.
I had always been a person that enjoyed his life, but now… nothing. At times it almost seemed that people could hear a dry wind blowing through the hole in my soul. Before, I had been open and comfortable in almost any situation, but now I was closed and guarded.
The only pleasure that I had was being around Colleen and the girls. Meghan and Molly and I struck a bargain. Each night after dinner I would help them with their homework, how to add and subtract, learning to read a chapter book. They in turn would teach me every “Knock, Knock” joke known to mankind. They insisted that Colleen and I tuck them in together before allowing the lights to be turned off and go to sleep. Afterwards, Colleen and I would sit together in the living room and talk or watch TV or read or do nothing, just sit on the couch next to each other before going to bed.
It was at night that it was the worst. I had not slept alone for almost six years and it was then that everything could creep back, all the images, all the thoughts. Some were real pictures from my memory, others were pictures from my imagination, constantly playing in an endless loop until I couldn’t tell the difference. But now they meant nothing to me. I had no feelings, nothing good, nothing bad… only mental pictures that just wouldn’t go away.
Only the numbness remained.
Life became an emotionless routine for me. Routine was something that I desperately needed. During the day when I was at the office, Colleen was at home. After Bill died, Colleen sold the business and between that and the life insurance, she and the girls were set financially. This gave her the time to be a full time mom and do the thing she loved the most while they were in school. Colleen was an illustrator. She had illustrated seven children’s books, none of them best sellers, but she was proud of them and rightly so. In between she had freelanced a couple hundred drawings to several greeting card companies. All of this allowed her to work at home and set her own schedule.
Living together, we become this odd family unit. Each morning I would say good bye to the girls as they sat at the table eating their breakfast. Colleen would meet me at the door and send me back to my room to get rid of that hideous tie or put on socks that matched. She was still preventing me from humiliating myself in public.
Saturday mornings the girls would get me out of bed early and drag me half asleep to the couch. There I would lie down and they would lie on top of me watching the early morning cartoons. At 8:30 everyone would eat breakfast, get dressed and take Meghan and Molly to their soccer games.
If Colleen and the girls had not been there to prop me up, suicide would have been an attractive option.
About three weeks after I had arrived in San Miguel, I came home to find a large manila envelope lying on the dining room table. The return address was for the attorneys in Chicago. I opened it and inside were two other envelopes. One was an empty envelope that was already stamped and addressed to the attorneys, obviously meant to be used to return something. The other envelope was thick with papers and across the front was hand written, “Robert, please read this. PLEASE!” I recognized it immediately as Barbara’s handwriting. I stared at it, studying it for several minutes. Without opening the envelope, I tore it in half and put the pieces into the return envelope, sealed it and took it out to the mail box for the postman to pick up the next morning.
I continued to sleepwalk through my days and nights. Colleen did everything she could to draw me out of my emotional coma. The best part of the day was when she would kiss me on the cheek in the morning as I went out the door, or when the girls hugged me good night before bed. But for the most part the emotional numbness had taken over my life.
One Monday morning six months after leaving Chicago, Miss Jennings brought a FedEx man into my office saying that I had to sign for the package personally. After signing, the deliveryman said that his instructions were to wait until I had signed the papers and return them.
I opened the package and inside was the final divorce papers. I signed in the marked places and handed them back the FedEx guy. He stuffed them into another envelope, turned and left. It took less than ten minutes and four years of marriage to Barbara was over.
Six days later on Saturday morning, the doorbell rang and outside was another FedEx delivery from the attorneys. I signed for the package and went out back onto the deck. I sat on the glider and watched Meghan and Molly as they played in the yard. Finally I gathered what strength I had and opened the package. Inside was my copy of the final divorce papers signed by Barbara, the judge and myself. Also included was a check for my portion of the community property settlement. My marriage to Barbara was now officially over and the four-year investment for me had a monetary value of exactly $7, 827. 59.
I was lost in my own private misery when I felt something next to me. Meghan and Molly were standing mere inches away, holding hands and just watching me. Meghan sat next to me and put her arms around me. Molly crawled up into my lap and put her arms around my neck. She quietly said. “I love you Uncle Bobby,” then lay her head on my chest.