Champagne Showers (2 page)

Tonya re-enters the conference room, “So, Danielle, what have you decided on?”

I sit there and pause for a moment at the beautiful sunlight coming in from the window over the skyscrapers. A wave of relief and courage come over me. I am
this
close to signing away this Lifetime movie of the week story… To a new beginning in my life! 

“Yes, I will agree to the lump sum and he must cover all of my attorney fees. How fast can this all be over with?”

“Once you sign your name on the line, we will accept their settlement offer only if they also cover all attorney fees incurred on our end.”

“Okay, that sounds perfect, Tonya.”

I pick up the black ink pen from the table and sign next to the X on the dotted line.

“Danielle, I’ll get you a copy of all the final paperwork. Now, you take care of yourself and get some ‘me time’ in for yourself before moving into your new life. I’m telling you, a little salty air and sand at your feet does a whole world of good for the soul and mind.”

“Thank you, Tonya. That might just be what I need right now to clear my head.”

“Danielle I’ll be in touch soon with the final docs.”

She walks me through the large doors of the conference room to the elevators and gives me a quick and firm handshake.

“Everything happens for a reason, Danielle, and the best is yet to come for you.”

How strange for her to say since she is always so cold and all business.

As the elevator descends, I replay what she said, “Everything happens for a reason... Everything happens for a reason and the best is yet to come.”

I head back to the house to work on packing up the rest of my belongings so I can run them over to the storage unit. I figure the coast should be clear, as I knew that Bradley had to tend to business out of town.  That was why he had signed the papers first.

Feeling thoroughly depressed, I open a bottle of wine with one of those cheap handheld corkscrews.  I had already packed up the fancy electric one we had received as a wedding gift. I pulled a wine glass from the cupboard that was the last one standing from a set of Bradley’s from before we got married. I chuckle softly to myself. It was one of those ugly clear glasses with a blue stem. They had never been my style and I was not upset when the other three had broken over time. Now, only one was left and good riddance. I poured myself a healthy serving of the Syrah, to the rim. It was from one of the local wineries we had bought on a wine tour last summer. I plan to drink the entire bottle by myself while I pack.

I walk into the great room where the rest of my packing waits. I’ve been working on unloading my life in boxes at the storage facility down the street for the past few weeks. Only the great room and a few miscellaneous items remain, and then I will be out of here. It’s been difficult living under the same roof with him all these months. Although since Bradley travels so much during the week, it has been almost bearable. 

I have cried so much lately, but with the new developments, I am more numb than before. I thought that once I got home the tears would start up again. So far nothing.  Maybe the shock I feel over the news of the baby has dried my tears up for the moment.

I walk to the mantel to look at the pictures lined up. They are all from various phases of our life together, from when we were dating, our wedding, last Christmas and a couple pictures of last summer at the lake house. Oh shit, the lake house. I’m really going to miss that place. It’s been in Bradley’s family for years, so I have no rights to it in the divorce. He did agree that I would get to have some of the furnishings and one of the wave runners if I wanted. I’m still not sure how I want to handle that. I like some of the furnishings, but they were so specific to that house and location that maybe it would be best to walk away from that completely. We had some great times at that house and those memories should be preserved. I idly wonder if he had taken any of his mistresses there. During the unfolding of our marriage, he apparently had many women on the side. I shudder to think of his betrayal. It was so mortifying to find out about the depth of his treachery. I was so ashamed when I had to slink into the Gynecologist to get tested for STDs. Luckily, I was clean. Apparently, Mr. Fastidious was insistent on condoms during his affairs. Well, except for the last one… His ‘girlfriend’. I guess condoms aren’t foolproof, now are they! Oh geeze, here come the tears.

I collapse right onto the hearth, knocking over the fireplace tool set. I can’t even see straight with the tears blurring my eyes. I hear a door slam followed by a voice.

“Dani, you here?”

Oh shit, it’s Bradley; I can’t let him see me like this! I fumble with the stand to set it upright while I wipe my eyes with my other hand. No use, I turn toward the archway to see Bradley standing there, looking at me with concern in his usually sparkling green eyes. My new ex-husband! Shit and of course, he looks so handsome with his hands on his slim hips.  Although, I think he is better looking when his eyebrows aren’t furrowed like that. His blonde hair is more messy than usual. It looks like he has been running his fingers through it.

He cocks his head to the right as he always does and says, “Dani, are you okay?”

I clear my throat and look away while I whisper, “Yes.”

He advances towards me, takes the fireplace poker from my hand, and places it on the stand. Then he attempts to pull me into his arms, I push him away and walk in the other direction. In an emotionless tone he says, “I guess it just wasn’t meant to be for us.”

I choke out, “You think?”

“Dani, believe me when I tell you I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”  He lets out a long sigh and waits for my response.

I fight back the threatening tears and the growing rage. “While I’m sure you believe that, I can’t imagine that you actually thought it was okay to sleep with all of those women for the last two years. Apparently, without a second thought about what it would do to our marriage and me. It’s hurt me deeper than you can possibly fathom.  Our entire marriage was a sham.  Then, to add insult to injury, I find out today that in all likelihood, you have fathered a child from one of your sluts in Spokane, no less. How is that not hurting me?”

He straightens his back and I can tell by the look on his face that I just hit a nerve. He sucks in his breath and says, “Well, you weren’t giving me what I needed so I got it elsewhere. I really didn’t want to hurt you, but that spark disappeared between us a long time ago.”

I gasp. “No spark? This was for better or for worse, jackass! If the
spark
was gone, it takes two to do the mattress mambo, maybe you should have tried to get back
the spark
.”

He puts a hand up in the stop position, “Whoa, wait a minute, while I was wrong for doing things behind your back, how about you? You became like a frigid spinster who laid there like a cold fish whenever we were fucking. I would get no response from you. I got more action from my own hand. I am a man who has needs.”

I didn’t wait for him to go on. I lunge toward him with my hands balled up into fists; I punch at his chest in a succession of blows. He grabs my wrists and shouts for me to stop. I start sobbing uncontrollably and collapse to my knees. Oh how I hurt. My soul is incredibly wounded and he is so callous.

As much as I would hate to admit it, he’s right in some ways. We had become perfunctory in our relationship, from sex on Friday night to having dinner every Sunday with his parents. We were so planned out that there was no room for spontaneity or excitement. We had changed.

Even when we were first married, we were active sexually and I had known that I had his full attention. But once I started working for Mrs. Davenports’ design firm, I noticed a change. I was working later and had to go in on Saturdays occasionally.  At the same time, he was advancing in his career having been promoted to cover the whole tri-state area and the management responsibilities that went along with that. He was either traveling or in meetings all the time. We had a great income, a beautiful home, a house at the lake and we never saw each other.

Our sex life started to become something that we squeezed in.   In many ways, I should have recognized the warning signs.  I was too consumed in my job and maybe indulged in a whole lot of denial. I worked for that old bitty Mrs. Davenport, who had a lousy way of doing business and frankly was not a very good decorator. She had been decorating for almost three decades and she was stuck in a rut. Instead of evolving with the trends, she kept working with her antiquated methods. She relied heavily on her flunkies to come up with the concepts and to execute the designs. She took full credit for each job and paid us a fraction of what we were worth. Since the economy had been so challenging, I felt I was lucky to have a job at all and I was determined to get the experience on my resume so I could eventually leave.

Fate decided to take over, one day I went to work, and the locks were changed. I called the office number and it was no longer in service. Perplexed, I checked my email to find a message that said I was out of a job and she had closed the business. Messenger would send my final check. That was that. I found out later she closed the business and literally ran off to Tahiti with her life coach. I filed unemployment and spent some time re-assessing my career path. Thus far, I have applied to over two dozen job posts but nothing has materialized yet. Bradley kept reminding me that he made plenty of money so I should be choosy and that I did not have to settle.

Therefore, in addition to everything else, I am unemployed and kneeling before my ex-husband sobbing with my heart in my throat.

He bends over to help me up and quietly says, “Shit Dani, it seems all I’m doing these days is saying I’m sorry! I’m such an ass!” 

I choke out, “Yes, you really are and frankly, I think I hate you!”

He gives me his boyish grin, runs his hands through his wavy blonde hair and says, “Yeah, I don’t blame you. I had no right to say those things. The divorce and recent developments have stressed me out. I have my doubts as to the validity, but I’ll have no proof positive or negative for several months so I have to ride this out.” 

I give him one of my scolding looks as I reach over to the side table and grab a tissue. While I blow my nose, he looks down and smiles at me.

“You know, I think you are going to be better off without me, Dani.”

I raise my eyebrows while I am still wiping my nose.

“You deserve so much better than me. Hey, let’s walk up to Pedro’s Cantina and grab a farewell dinner and drink.  When we get back I’ll help you finish packing.”

I start to shake my head no, but he grabs my hand leading me to the front hallway. I stop and tug my hand away.

“I will go with you under two conditions: tell me why you are home when you were supposed to be in Spokane tonight, and do you love her?”

He sighs and turns to face me, takes one finger under my chin to tilt it up toward him, then he says, “I cancelled my trip because I somehow knew you would need me tonight. I don’t know how I feel about her. Deep down I am still in love with you but the distance has separated us and here we are.” He pauses. “I have to do what is right by her, I suppose. What that is exactly isn’t clear to me just yet. I have to let the whole thing sink in and see what happens.”

Pedro’s is packed and lively especially given it is a Thursday night. We share salsa and tortilla chips and down several Margaritas each, with top shelf tequila. I start to feel a little woozy, so we order a plate of tacos. We spend most of the meal reminiscing about when we first met and began dating. It is an awkward feeling sitting there with my now ex-husband rehashing the ‘good old days’. Once we have a few more drinks, our conversation begins to wane and Bradley is slurring his words. He never gets drunk so it is somewhat funny. It is a side of him I haven’t seen since before we were married when he used to party a lot with his frat buddies. I think I prefer him sober. Drunk Bradley is annoying and borderline douche bag.

I order an ice water in an attempt to sober up. Bradley pays our check and we get up to leave. He grabs me around my waist to help me bob and weave my way through the crowded cantina. As we leave the building, it is still warm out, typical for the month of August. He grabs my hand as we walk in silence with only the sounds of the live mariachi band fading into the distance.  As we approach the front walkway, he turns to smile at me with his boyish grin. He looks very mischievous and sets me to feeling a bit leery. We walk up the stairs to the front door. He opens it and once we’re in the entry hall, he turns the lock and then looks at me with fierce desire in his green eyes. I have not seen that look in quite some time but I know that means only one thing. He wants sex.

Oh no!

“One last time for the road, Dani?” Before I can answer, his hungry sensual lips are on mine. His tongue darts into my mouth seeking my tongue. He tastes of tequila and salsa but before I can register what’s about to take place, he slips his left hand up my skirt and pins me against the wall. He slides his fingers inside my cotton panties and seeks out my pleasure point while I feel like the room is starting to spin.  He clumsily begins to rub my clitoris in circles with his thumb while he probes my “P” with his middle finger. I involuntarily moan. He takes this as encouragement, scoops me up into his arms, carries me into the great room, and deposits me on the brown ultra-suede sofa.