22

It’s frustrating being forced out of the comfort of your cozy, designer-decorated family room by an irrational woman and her sidekick, the garden troll, but the circumstances leave me no choice.

As far as the mineral rights, Mia is correct. I want the rights in my name, and I’ve been working good old Uncle Derrick to help him see the light. We almost have a deal, Derrick and me, but Mia need not know that. Derrick is so easily manipulated. He believes everything I whisper in his ear about how close I am to his brother, Mia’s dad, and how I’m working for their brotherly reconciliation.

And, just as easily, when I tell him of his brother’s pretend betrayal, he’ll believe me and want to make sure no other Pilmer inherits the land. It’s a clean slate with a Strom, this Strom, in charge. I’ve almost tied up this loose end.

M. Pilmer. My wife signed her name that way at the Italian restaurant. I stop at the foot of the stairs. I suddenly see everything very clearly; my busy mind focuses on one thing. Mia.

I turn and look at my wife. She meets my gaze. From across the room, she says, “Paul, I’m leaving you.”

I shake my head. “No, Mia, you’re not. The mineral rights aren’t worth more than five hundred dollars a year at this point. It’s nothing. I was just simplifying things, getting a handle on them, and then I was going to share the good news,” I say. My heart is pounding. People don’t “leave” me. I “leave” people when I’m finished with them. She has gone insane. She’s jealous of the fabulous life I lead without her, and I’m to blame for that.

“It’s not about the mineral rights or Uncle Derrick,” Mia says.

I watch as Buck stands. He has positioned himself between my wife and me. I must lean to the right to make eye contact with her, to direct her and coach her as I typically do.

“Can you get out of our house now?” I ask, moving rapidly toward Mia. I cross the family room and find myself face-to-face with Buck who, instead of moving out of the way, has become a human roadblock between my wife and me. We are the same height, but I have more weight on me, and more anger. I have the fire.

Something has come between us, dear, I think, and it’s the fucking neighbor.

I take a step to the left. Mia is now directly in front of me.

“What is wrong with you, Mia? Do you need help again? Do you remember when we had to take you to that psychiatrist? Postpartum depression or whatever? You’re fragile and you need rest,” I say. I’m speaking with my kindergarten teacher voice. “I shouldn’t have given you so much freedom and space. You’re sick again. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” I’ve taken a step back, and I can see my wife clearly, even with the stupid neighbor between us. He isn’t budging. He hasn’t moved at all. I decide to speak to him, reason with him, man-to-man.

“Buck, my wife is bipolar. Well, the diagnosis is unspecified, um, but clearly with the delusions and the like, well, it is manifesting again. I’m sorry to be angry with you,” I say. I drop my gaze to his feet. I’m apologetic, contrite. “My apologies. And if you’ll excuse us, I’ll get her to bed.”

“How did I marry this?” Mia whispers to Buck. I hear her loud and clear. Her words are directed at me. Her words are about me.

I watch as Buck pulls her into his side, wraps his arm around her waist. Both of them now locked together, facing me. I am disgusted. I take a step toward my wife and Buck steps them back, as a unit, as if they’re going to backstep out of my cottage. They will not.

I look at Mia, at her shaking, whispering, sneaky, sweatshirt-and sweatpants-wearing self, and I am disgusted. How did I ever love that? Unthinkable.

“Look, Mia. You’re upset, and you have clearly gotten your bulldog Buck on your side here. Not sure what you did to earn that, but fine. I’m not going to imagine you two fucking. Instead I’ll choose to be glad you made a new friend. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going upstairs to sleep. In the morning, we will talk. No one is leaving anyone, you understand? What we have together is special. Think of our boys for once, why don’t you. We’ve had too much wine, too much stress for one day, that’s all,” I say. And then, I hold my hands up, as if I’m in a bank robbery, and take several steps backward. I hope I don’t run into anything.

“Come on, Mia, you’re strong, you’ve got this,” Buck says to my wife, who wipes a tear from under her eye. A black river rolls down her left cheek. She isn’t wearing waterproof mascara. Obviously, if she’d really known what she was going to be doing tonight she would have worn waterproof mascara. Poor Mia. She’s under Buck’s spell.

As if reading my mind, Buck says, “You’re in control now, Mia.”

Silly man. He doesn’t realize I hold the power for both of us. Her power doesn’t exist. I started taking it the moment we met.

Mia chokes out a sob, as if to confirm my thoughts.

She looks horrible. She has streaks of mascara running down her cheeks, and her nose is bubbly with snot. She opens her mouth, as if to talk, but nothing comes out. She turns and buries her gooey face in Buck’s LAKESIDE sweatshirt.

Why don’t they just fuck in front of me? I wonder. Whatever. I don’t really care at this point. I want to go upstairs, to my bedroom. I want to reconfigure some things. I have climbed three steps up from the family room when the blob speaks. I stop and turn my head to look at my pathetic wife.

“Paul. I’m worth more than this, more than the way you treat me. I have been a faithful, loving wife and mother. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, and more. I’ve given up my career, my friends, most contact with my family, all for you. I loved you once, Paul. Deeply and with my whole heart. But you don’t deserve that love anymore. I am leaving you, effective tonight. I have papers for a separation, there, on the coffee table. And I want you out of this house,” Mia says. She delivers these very strong words in a very tiny voice. She has pointed her finger at me, but the effort of that seems to have wiped her out. She’s again leaning against the anchorman. The garden gnome who put her up to this, I now realize. Of course, she would never have attempted anything like this without someone pushing her into it. That’s why I’ve kept her parents far away from us. Unfortunately, I underestimated Buck. In fact, I didn’t give him any thought at all. My mistake.

“Oh, Mia. I’m afraid your plan just doesn’t work for me. This is my cottage. You are my wife. Get control of yourself,” I say. I shake my head at the silly woman and turn and resume my climb up the stairs.