CHAPTER 17

Don was awarded a final decree of divorce, with the various lawyers’ combined efforts that disposed of all matters of contention between Leanne and Don, and he became free to marry Alisha. She did not know when that would take place. The lawyers had arranged it so that it was not necessary for Don or Leanne to appear in court, since the divorce had been agreed upon.

She had told Alan Spencer, “I cannot look at Don without having bitter thoughts about his unfaithfulness. Never in my life did I think he would betray me.”

“Your feeling is understandable, Leanne. And because we have settled all the contingencies, the sale of the house, the trust fund for each child, the Cape house deeded to you, your refusal of alimony…but you will be able to make such a request if…”

“No, Alan, I don’t want any money from him, only that he pay for the children’s education and a trust fund for each one when they reach twenty-five. I’m able to support myself. And with the sale of our house,” her voice quavered, “I…I expect to be able to buy a three-bedroom, two-bath home so that the children have a place to call home.”

“You’ll let me know when everything is over? I expect to be at the Cape.” She reached into her handbag and gave him her card. “Thank you, Alan, for everything. Your mediation group worked so hard to help me get through these uncharted waters.”

“Leanne, it was our pleasure, believe me.” He walked her to the door of his office, shaking her hand.

“Stay well, and call if you need me for anything.”

Since the children were away, Curtis studying for the LSAT exam, living in an apartment in Roxbury, and Jane now a junior at Simmons College, Leanne was glad that they were continuing with their own lives. She was proud of them, even though Curtis could hardly manage his anger at his father.

“He’s not worth calling a father!” he declared to his mother. On the other hand, Jane mourned for her father as if he were dead.

* * *

Six months after the divorce was final, Alisha insisted that the wedding take place in Pittsburgh. Although her mother’s mental state had not changed, she seemed to understand that her daughter was getting married and that she would soon become a grandmother.

Frank Jones agreed to be Don’s best man, and Alisha’s lifelong friend, Julie Donner, was her maid of honor.

Mr. Morton was not too happy over what he thought was a “shotgun” wedding. Nonetheless, he approved of Don “doing right” by his only child.

“I’m right glad that you are a man of honor,” he told Don.

“I always try to be, sir,” Don told him.

Everyone was on the patio, waiting for the service to begin. About six of the older couple’s closest relatives were there, seated before a table with an array of flowers on it.

The officiating minister, a Rev. Otis Evans, came onto the patio, Bible in hand. Mr. Morton introduced Don, then said, “I’m going to get Alisha, and we can start the ceremony.”

When Alisha walked through the patio doors on her father’s arm, Don gasped. She looked lovely. Her pixie-like dark hair was covered with a pearl seeded cap and she wore a white satin suit with an A-line skirt that fell to her knees. The jacket crossed over the front and was anchored on the left side with one large gold button. She wore white sandals and carried a bouquet of roses and baby’s breath.

After the brief ceremony, the wedding party and guests moved into the dining room, where Mrs. Morton’s church ladies served a meal of roast beef, gravy, peas and rice, string beans, salad, coffee, and slices of a small wedding cake.

Frank offered a champagne toast and Don rose from his seat to thank everyone for coming and for their good wishes. He toasted his smiling bride and kissed her, to the delight of all, especially the bride.

Don had explained to Alisha that because of her advancing pregnancy, he decided they would drive back to Boston.

Becky had been planning with her husband, John, to vacation at their time-share condo in Aruba. She was very surprised when it turned out to be the week of Don’s wedding.

Already there was a certain amount of tension in the office with the startling news of the doctor’s divorce and impending marriage to Alisha Morton, their former colleague.

Becky herself was concerned when the doctor had gathered them all together in the conference room and told them of the changes in his life.

“I’m closing my office for the last week of this month. I’m getting married, and because I’ll be away, you will each have a paid vacation for that week.”

There were murmurs of shock and dismay, with comments ranging from “No need to pay us,” to “Hope all goes well,” to “Good luck.”

Becky saw tears glistening in the doctor’s eyes as he accepted hugs and good wishes from his staff. She was the last to leave and told Don, “You did not have to give paid vacations, Dr. Matthews.”

“I wanted to, Becky. I wanted to.”

For Becky the whole situation was worse because her fears had come true. She had recognized Alisha Morton’s manipulative behavior and was not surprised when she heard the news. She wished now that she had warned her boss, but how does one tell the boss what to do and whom to see? As a mere secretary you don’t, not to a board-certified internist who is responsible for the health and welfare of hundreds of patients.

She and John had honeymooned in Aruba and subsequently bought a time-share condominium on Palm Beach on the west coast of the island. The island’s soft, alluring winds, white sandy beaches, made it a favorite destination for them.

For herself, Becky looked forward to having quality time with her husband of ten years. Despite her deep concern for her boss, she determined that her first priority was to her husband and herself. However, she did discuss the doctor’s situation with John a few days before their departure.

“John?”

“Yes, what’s on your mind?” Her husband put down the newspaper he had been reading.

Becky had brought a laundry basket of clothes into the family room and was folding towels, sheets, shirts, socks and other assorted articles of clothing into piles.

“Tell me, John, how can a man like Donovan Matthews become so beguiled by a selfish, worthless woman that he can throw away his wife of twenty-five years as easily as changing his clothes from a business suit to…to sweatpants?”

“Don’t think it’s as easy as that, my dear.”

“It must be,” Becky protested, “or how could he do it? I knew Alisha was out to get him, but couldn’t he see that?”

As a certified public accountant and an auditor for the Internal Revenue Service, John dealt in reality, factual realities like tax laws and numbers. From his pragmatic, practical viewpoint, he tried to help his wife understand.

“To answer your question, Becky dear, she ‘put out,’ was a temptress, and your doctor responded. It’s all very simple…the woman offers and the man accepts. It’s in his nature to do so.”

“I don’t believe that!”

“Believe it. It is the way males and females were constructed. Sex always wins over the brain. If it were not for sex, none of us would be here.”

He raised his eyebrows at his wife.

“Well, maybe, since you put it like that. But it still seems to me that a well-educated, medically trained person would not be so easily affected by raging hormones, like some teenager.”

“Look, Becky.” Her husband folded his newspaper and placed it on the table beside his chair. He spoke to her in a serious tone. “I’m not a doctor, but I do remember there was this guy who said the women were driving him crazy. He could not deal with it. His folks had to come and take him home. He was eventually admitted to a psychiatric facility…was there for years, I heard.”

“Women did that to him?”

“Evidently he couldn’t cope with the pressure so many females put on him. To meet the sexual demands of so many was more than he could take. It was easier to withdraw from real life and enter one in which he did not have to deal with the overwhelming, debilitating problem. Insanity was his defense mechanism.”