Remnants
After lunch, I get an e-mail from Alyna informing me that I should drop by the house after work and pick up anything I might need or want because she’s moving all of my shit into storage the following day. This is the first practical step she’s taking toward a formal separation. It makes me feel shitty, but I’m not ready to stop fucking Holly. I feel like I need to hang on to that for as long as I can. But this certainly makes it seem like I’ll have a much more limited amount of time to fuck her than I previously thought if I have any chance of salvaging my marriage.
When I get to the house—my house, the house I have made every mortgage payment on—I sit in the car and look at it for a few minutes. I remember the day we moved in and ordered pizza and fucked on the living room floor because we didn’t have any furniture yet. I remember the day we brought Andy home from the hospital. I remember the day Jane took her first steps and smashed her head on the coffee table. It doesn’t feel any different to me. It’s still my house. I just don’t actually live there anymore.
I walk up to the front door and take out my keys. I look at the lock and then put them back in my pocket and ring the doorbell. Now it feels different.
Alyna answers the door holding Jane in one arm. Andy’s hiding behind her leg. When he sees it’s me he yells, “Daddy! Come in!”
I try to lean in and kiss Jane, but Alyna spins around so I can’t get to her. I give her a look that basically says, “I know this is shitty, but do you really have to be that much of a cunt?” But I can’t blame her, and I even kind of admire her for being so protective of our kids. It makes me feel like, even if she kicks me out for good, files for divorce, and never lets me back into the kids’ lives, they’ll be okay. She’ll take care of them.
I bend down and pick up Andy. He kisses me on the cheek and says, “You work a real lot, Daddy.” I say, “I know. Things have been really busy.” Obviously Alyna still hasn’t told them anything about what’s actually going on. She can put my shit in storage and force me to live in a hotel, but until she tells the kids what’s actually happening I think she’s probably holding out some hope that we can resolve this.
Andy says, “Do you want to watch Toy Story with me?”
I look at Alyna. She shakes her head. I don’t see any reason to piss her off further or to make this any more uncomfortable than it has to be. I say, “I’d love to, bud, but I have to get back to work. I just stopped by to pick up a few things.”
Andy says, “Oh, then I’ll wait until you get back from work to watch it. I want you to see it, too,” and I start tearing up. I almost lose my shit right then and there. But I hold it together. I think about whatever I can that makes me mad. I think about what an asshole Lonnie is. I think about the bank losing one of my deposits. I think about Sherri Shepherd. These thoughts push the tears back as I put Andy down and head back into the bedroom. Alyna and the kids stay in the living room.
I see that the picture of the entire family we used to have up in the hallway has been taken down. In its place is a picture of Alyna and Andy in the park. It’s a picture I took but I’m not in it. I open one of my drawers in our dresser and absentmindedly toss some T-shirts into a duffel bag. I look at our bed and wonder if I’m ever going to sleep in it again. In the bathroom I grab some deodorant and razors to make it look like I’m actually taking things I’ll use, even though I’ve already replaced these things.
I look next to the toilet and see that Alyna hasn’t gotten rid of my magazines yet. I wonder if this is a sign of hope that everything will work out or if it’s just something she hasn’t gotten around to yet.
I turn the bedroom light off and head back out to the living room with my bag full of shit I don’t need. Alyna says, “You got everything?”
I say, “Yeah.”
She says, “I’ll e-mail you to let you know which storage place I end up using.”
I wonder if this is a bluff. It seems crazy to me that she’s going to actually go through all the shit in the house, separate it into piles of mine and hers, and then hire movers to take all the shit she recognizes as mine to some storage place. I wonder about things like the couch or the chair that only I sit in. I don’t ask her about these things.
Andy’s watching us. I whisper quietly enough so he won’t hear, “Do you think I could come by and just see the kids this weekend or something?”
She whispers back, “I don’t know. I just don’t know. Do you have everything you need?”
I say, “Yes.”
She says, “Okay, then, you should be going.”
I say, “Okay,” and give my son a hug and a kiss before I leave. I lean in to give Jane a kiss and this time Alyna allows it. As I’m walking out the door Andy says, “Work fast, Daddy.”
I say, “I will,” then walk out the door.
I hear Alyna lock it behind me then I walk to the end of the driveway and toss the duffel bag into the trash can.