(Continued from last issue)
David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.
JULIE
I was at the building site on a Saturday a few weeks later when David drove in, followed by the driver in a grey Vitz.
I was surprised to see him there, as he had just sent for the driver less than an hour ago, and I had assumed he was going to be using the car for the rest of the afternoon, yet it was only a little after one.
“David! This is a surprise! Is everything alright?” “Yes, everything’s fine; I just came to drop this off,” he answered and casually handed me a logbook, then motioned to the Vitz the driver had come in.
“It’s yours.” It took a few seconds for what he had said to register in my mind as I looked from the logbook to the car, then back to the logbook that had my name on it, but when it did, overcome with delight and excitement, I flung myself at him, hugging him tightly.
“Oh my God! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I gasped between planting kisses all over his face, tears of joy freely streaming down my cheeks.
“You’re welcome,” he pulled away, as though embarrassed by my overt display of emotion in front of the workers. I then rushed from him to the car, touching it like I was reassuring myself it was real and not a figment of my imagination, while the driver stood by, watching me in amusement.
“Well, I’ll be heading off now; it’s quite a drive back to the apartment and the traffic is bad, so don’t try doing the drive yourself yet. The driver will drive you back today, and you can practice on shorter routes around the apartment tomorrow when there won’t be much traffic until you’re comfortable on the roads by yourself,” David said behind me.
“Okay,” I nodded absent-mindedly, still walking round the car, caressing it like a lover. When David drove off, I was still admiring it, now seated in the driver’s seat, running my hands over the dashboard and steering wheel.
It wasn’t a big, fancy car; next to David’s, it looked like a toy, but it was mine, and the most valuable thing I had ever owned, and I was spellbound, and totally in love with it.
DAVID
Julie’s over the top reaction to me buying her a car left me touched and embarrassed at the same time; I was embarrassed because public displays of affection always got me uncomfortable, but more than that, I was embarrassed because the truth was I had not bought her the car out of kindness or generosity, but rather because her having her own car would be more convenient for me.
Still, I was touched by her almost childlike gratitude and delight; she acted like I had just handed her the keys to the latest model of a BMW or Mercedes Benz, not a simple Vitz, and it was a reminder of the kind of genuine person she was and all the reasons I had fallen in love with her in the first place.
I also could not help but imagine what Diane’s reaction would have been if I had bought her the Vitz instead of the car she now had – she would probably have thrown the keys in my face, I thought to myself wryly.
And yet, despite that, despite not just Julie’s pure heart and character, but all she did to support me with all the work at the site, I was ashamed to admit that there was a part of me that sometimes felt embarrassed by her, or to be more specific, embarrassed that I was seeing her.
I had introduced her to my family, but that was only because of Junior; I had not introduced her to my work colleagues or friends who still thought I was happily married to Diane – who I had introduced to them the first chance I got.
I told myself that it was simply because the right chance or opportunity had not come up yet, but deep down I knew that was not true, and that there had been lots of opportunities, I just had not taken them – nor was I sure I ever would.
I knew I loved Julie, and I knew she was a far better woman than Diane could ever be, but I also knew that when it came to my professional or social life, that was not enough – and I was not sure if it ever would be.
DIANE
It was over a month since David had moved out, and while on the surface of things we had all adapted to the changes that had come with his leaving, the children inclusive, I knew none of us was truly comfortable with our new reality.
The girls still got excited when he came by, but always asked when he would be coming home ‘to stay’, Daniel was colder and more distant towards him than he had ever been, and although I had come out of the hole I had dug myself when he left, and returned to work at the boutique, I still had not told anyone that he had moved out.
I suspect the reason for that was that a part of me still hoped he would come to his senses and move back in, but the more time that passed, the less likely it seemed like that would happen, and I finally came to the conclusion that if anything was going to change, I was going to have to do something to cause that change.
While I was not initially sure what that would be, eventually David himself gave me the solution. Through all the changes that had taken place in our lives, the one thing he had kept constant, was his presence in the children’s lives, so I hoped that if I changed that, it just might provide the impetus he needed to return to his family.
I waited until the time was just right, and then made my move; David had promised the children he would be taking them to the beach and the zoo that Sunday, and I knew he was probably looking forward to spending some quality time with them as opposed to a few hours after school, so early that Sunday morning, I got the children ready, and left with them an hour before he was due to arrive.
When he did, and found us gone, he called and was furious, but beneath his anger, I sensed his fear.
“You did this on purpose Diane! I can see what you are doing; you’re trying to keep my children from me, and I swear to God, you won’t succeed,” he swore angrily.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic David; I simply forgot you had already made plans, that’s all,” I answered innocently.
“Bulls**t! I told you yesterday; how could you have forgotten!” “I didn’t hear you; sorry, I must have been distracted,” I lied with a smile.
“Besides, you’re the one who moved out, so I really have no obligation to arrange my plans around yours, if you want to fit into the kids’ lives, you need to find a way to do that, not me,” I concluded firmly, and then hung up before he could respond.
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