The Coach House

by Florence Osmund

  Unable to think of any way to make things right between them, Marie decided to leave him. It was an agonizing decision to make.

  For the next several weeks, Marie tried to act as though everything was normal, but knowing she was planning to leave him, that didn’t come easy, especially when it came to sex. Richard was even more amorous now that he had it in his mind they should start a family. How could she make love to him, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, cuddle up to him in bed, tell him she loved him, when she was secretly plotting to leave him?

  Weekends were the hardest—forty-eight consecutive hours of pretending. It was exhausting, especially when it got to the point when the to-do list was at the forefront of her every thought.

  By early May, even though she hadn’t caught her husband red-handed, she decided it was time to follow through on each item of her list.

  She withdrew all but ten dollars from the savings account she had opened before meeting Richard and stashed the cash in an old brown purse she kept in the back of one of her dresser drawers. It wasn’t much, but enough to get started on her own again.

  The only marital account to which Marie had access was the checking account. Up until now, she had always advised Richard when she wrote a check, so he would surely notice if any were missing. Not wanting to cause any unnecessary questioning, she wrote down that account number and put it in the brown purse, thinking she could access money from the bank that way, at least until Richard figured out she was gone.

  Typically, Marie would cash her paycheck, keep twenty dollars for herself as mad money, and deposit the rest into their checking account. Now she put the twenty dollars straight into her secret brown purse.

  Richard had given Marie several pieces of expensive jewelry during their courtship and the two years they were married. She kept them in a jewelry box on the top of their dresser. She thought he might notice if she hid them somewhere, so she kept them in an easily accessible section of the box, ready to grab at the last minute if she had to.

  When Richard was out of town, Marie looked at apartments in different parts of the city. She wasn’t sure where to go, where it would be least probable she would bump into him. She was limited, given her salary, to the less affluent neighborhoods, which she thought could actually work in her favor.

  Excited about an ad she saw in the Tribune, she made an appointment to see an apartment on the near north side. Unfortunately, Richard spoiled that plan by surprising her with tickets to the Kentucky Derby.

  Marie had never been to a horse race of any kind or to Louisville, and she didn’t know what to expect. She bought a large elaborate hat for the occasion. She knew to do that much.

  Churchill Downs was impressive with its expansive rolling lawns, lavish gardens, and late-nineteenth-century architecture. They walked the grounds before the race, ate burgoo, and sipped Mint Juleps.

  They sat in box seats in Millionaire’s Row. The horses were paraded before the grandstands while the University of Louisville marching band played Stephen Foster’s My Old Kentucky Home.

  While not easy, Marie tried to act as though nothing was amiss. Her list was embedded in her mind like shrapnel. Nothing, including this temporary interruption, was going to change her mind.

  Richard bet a considerable amount of money on a stallion named Coal-town. Where he had learned enough about horse racing to bet that kind of money, Marie didn’t know. But she also didn’t care. Coaltown burst out in front when the gates flew open but didn’t keep the lead. He came in second to Citation. Marie learned where the expression “The Run for the Roses” came from when they presented the winner with a blanket of hundreds of red roses. Sure is a lot of hoopla for a two-minute race.

  On the flight back, Richard asked Marie if she had been to the doctor lately.

  “No. Why?”

  “It’s been over two months and you’re not pregnant yet. There could be something wrong.”

  “Richard,” she whispered so as not to be heard by any of the other passengers, “it can take months for that to happen. You’ve got to be patient. Give it time.”

  “But if there is something wrong with you, it would be better to have it treated sooner rather than later.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me. Maybe we should have this discussion at home.”

  “You could have an infection or a virus or something.”

  “I would know that. Can we finish this discussion later…please?”

  He ignored her plea. “Well, I had my sperm count checked when I had my physical last month. It’s high. I think you should make a doctor’s appointment. In fact, I think I’ll make one for you when we get back. I’ll go with you.”

  Thoughts raced through her mind faster than the horses they just watched. “Let’s let Mother Nature have a chance first.” She loosened her grip on the armrest when she realized her nails were digging into it. Life with Richard was getting more difficult by the day.

  “Okay, hon. Just one more month. Then we’re going to a doctor.”

  The following week Marie found an apartment in Lincoln Park, not that far from where she had lived before moving in with Richard. It wouldn’t be available until the fifteenth of May. The landlord verbally promised it to her and asked her to come back the last week of April to sign the lease.

  The days dragged, each one getting more difficult for Marie to act as if nothing was wrong in their marriage. Not making it any easier, Richard continued to do nice things for her. And while he never mentioned the baby furniture in the attic, he kept talking about starting a family.

  If Marie had any doubt about her husband’s involvement in unscrupulous activities, the doubts were removed when she overheard him say to someone on the phone that he would meet the person for lunch the next day at St. Hu’s for “the buy.” Hearing that, she resolved to wait until the next time he was out of town and then pack up her clothes and move into a hotel until the apartment was ready. He would come home to find her gone and then quickly be served with divorce papers. Clean and swift.

  While her mind was made up about the divorce, what she hadn’t worked out yet was what she would tell a lawyer when asked why she was divorcing him. She went to the library where she found she couldn’t get a divorce unless she could prove one of the following legal grounds.

  Gross neglect of marital duty

  Incompatibility by reason of mental illness or mental incapacity

  Incompatibility by reason of impotency

  Adultery

  Pregnancy by the wife by a person other than her husband

  Extreme physical or mental cruelty

  Habitual use of alcohol or a controlled substance

  Abandonment for one year

  Conviction and imprisonment for a felony subsequent to the marriage

  She studied the list. The only possibility was number six, and she had a feeling that would be a stretch. If the state doesn’t think I have grounds, does that mean I don’t have grounds? It was a question that would plague her for days. Unless she abandoned him for a continuous year without suing for divorce, she wasn’t sure what she could do. She knew someone from work who left her husband and was told by her lawyer she had no grounds for divorce. She wanted out so bad, she went back to him and committed adultery, and then he sued her. There has to be a better way than that.

  CHAPTER 13

  Graceland Woods

  Two weeks had passed since Marie’s decision to leave Richard. She would make her move when he left the following Tuesday for a series of meetings in Milwaukee. He wouldn’t be home until Friday. She could easily carry out her plan in four days.

  “Richard, would you be okay with me going to North Carolina to visit Fred while you’re in Milwaukee?”

  “Why, hon? Is he sick?”

  “No, but that’s just it. I don’t want to wait until he’s sick to visit him. He’s turning seventy-two this year.”

  “No, I don’t mind. Do you want me to make the reservations for you?”

  “No.
” She smiled. “I think it’s about time I learned to do that by myself, don’t you?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. How long are you thinking of staying?”

  “I’m thinking three days would be good. One day to get there, one to visit, and one to come home. His daughter called me yesterday just to see how we were doing, and based on his doctor appointments and her schedule, I think Wednesday through Friday might work best for them.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. I can’t take you to the airport. I’ll be in Milwaukee. But if you arrange for your flight home on Friday for five or later, I can pick you up at the airport.”

  “I was planning on driving myself to the airport and leaving my car there.”

  “You don’t want to take a taxi there and I’ll pick you up?”

  “No. I kinda wanted to do this on my own. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Richard shrugged. “No, I don’t mind.” He paused. “In fact, it might be a good experience for you.”

  Unbeknownst to Richard, Marie asked her boss if she could take the following week off as vacation. He granted her request. The plan was falling into place.

  On Monday, the day before Richard was to leave for Milwaukee, Marie kissed him goodbye in the morning and pretended to go to work as usual. Instead, she went to the bank and withdrew five hundred dollars and put it in her wallet. Then she bought toiletries and other things she needed, things that Richard would immediately notice were missing if she were to take them from their house. She hid everything in the closet until she was ready to pack the next day.

  Wanting everything to appear to be on the up-and-up, Marie went to Richard’s favorite travel agency to make airline reservations to North Carolina. She paid by check.

  Having a couple of hours to kill before going home, Marie drove to the lakefront and parked her car near a picnic grove where she and Richard had had many picnics. As she stared at the water, she thought about how their less-than-three-year relationship had turned so awry. She relived each of Richard’s angry moments, each time she caught him in a lie, each time she discovered something new about him that pointed to illicit activities.

  Then she thought about the good times, the charismatic way he had lured her into his life, the sweet things he had said and done throughout their relationship, and his unending generosity.

  How could someone so loving have such an opposite side to him?

  Richard was packing for his trip when she got home. “You better get packing, too. What time is your flight on Wednesday?” he asked.

  “One in the afternoon.”

  “So you should leave here no later than 11:30.”

  “That’s what they told me at the travel agency, too. When are you leaving tomorrow, by the way?”

  “I’ve got a noon meeting at the hospital, so I’ll leave here around ten.”

  That night in bed, Richard was particularly amorous. Marie succumbed to his advances physically, but in her head other things had her attention, like how Richard was going to react when he realizes she has left him.

  Marie awoke the next morning to Richard’s hands caressing her body. “Wake up,” he whispered. He had her nightie off within seconds, his fingers quickly running down the curves of her body. Her body swelled with his touch.

  “We’re not going to see each other for four days,” he breathed as he kissed her passionately. He sighed as he caressed her breasts as if it was the first time he had discovered them. The suction from his lips on her nipples sent ribbons of ecstasy down to her toes, enough to make her forget about her exit plan for a fleeting moment.

  Marie unbuttoned his pajama top and laid her hand on his broad hairy chest. She felt his heart beating fast beneath her palm as she rubbed over it, circling her finger around his taut nipples. His hand covered hers as he guided her to his erection.

  He parted her thighs and whispered, “Show me the way.”

  After breakfast, Marie pretended once again to leave for work. “See you Friday, hon. Have a nice trip.”

  “You, too. Say hello to Fred for me.”

  They kissed goodbye.

  Marie drove to a neighborhood grocery store around the corner from their house and parked in the back where she could see Richard’s car when he pulled out onto Southport Avenue. There she waited, watched and waited, with little else to do but think about what she was doing. She was ready to leave him with no consideration of turning back.

  She looked at her watch when she finally saw his car. Ten fifteen. Right on schedule.

  She waited another ten minutes before she walked down the alley behind their home, through the backyard, and into their side door.

  The list of things she wanted to take with her wasn’t very long: select clothing, jewelry, the cash she had stashed away, and her mother’s Bonwit Teller hatbox. After eating lunch, she went from room to room looking for anything else she wanted to take with her.

  Her belongings filled her largest suitcase, two smaller ones, and three bags. She put everything in the pantry until she was ready to leave.

  Marie walked back to her car. Today was the deadline her soon-to-be landlord had given her for the first month’s rent. She drove four miles to the apartment located in the southeast section of Lincoln Park.

  The landlord lived in the apartment building next door. She rang his bell. No answer. He had told her he was always home unless he was tending to a renter’s problem, and then his wife was home. She waited a minute and rang the bell again. Still no answer. She walked to the side of the building and looked toward the street thinking he might be outside fixing something. No landlord.

  Marie sat in her car watching the landlord’s door. A half hour passed with no sighting, so she decided to drive around the neighborhood to see if there was somewhere she could go to pass some time. She drove around for another half hour but found nothing of interest, so she drove back to the apartment. Still no answer at the landlord’s apartment.

  Frustrated, Marie got back in her car and headed home when a road sign caught her eye: Lincoln Park Zoo.

  Something about monkeys swinging from branch to branch calmed her and took her mind off whatever it was that lie ahead. Or maybe it was the innocent faces of the small children. She visited the elephant exhibit, the snake house, and the lion yard. She stopped for an ice cream cone and ate it while watching two zebras go at it with each other. On her way back to the car she swung by the monkeys again. In a cage, yet seemingly so free. Marie swiped a lone tear from her cheek and headed toward her car.

  Her landlord, a tall wiry man somewhere in his thirties, answered the doorbell this time. She handed him an envelope containing seventy dollars in cash. He opened it, counted the money, and told her to wait there while he wrote up a receipt.

  “You can’t move in until Saturday, you know.”

  “Yes, I know that. When is the earliest I can pick up the key?”

  “Nine.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you Saturday morning then.”

  Marie picked up a sandwich for dinner and drove home, this time driving up her own driveway and parking her car in the garage, just as she would normally do after coming home from work about this time. She wasn’t going to take any chances that a neighbor, like the cop across the street or the Russian creep, might question her comings and goings and let Richard know. Everything had to look legitimate.

  The evening dragged. After watching television for an hour, she took a long hot bubble bath and put on her comfiest nightgown and robe. She poured herself a glass of wine and opened You Can’t Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe, a book she had found in Richard’s eclectic collection of books.

  At precisely eleven-thirty the next morning, the time she would have had to leave for the airport, Marie pulled her car out of the garage, went back into the house to retrieve one of the small suitcases and put it in the trunk. Then she drove around the block and into the alley behind their house. She parked the car and went into their side door to retrieve the rest of her things.

&nb
sp; She was within a few feet of the pantry door where she had put the rest of her belongings when the phone rang. Should I answer it or just let it ring? It might be Richard. She answered it.

  “I’m so glad I caught you!” Esther shouted into the phone. “Marshall Field’s is on fire!”

  “What?”

  “There’s a…a…a fire in…”

  “Esther, calm down. Where are you?”

  “I’m in the coffee shop across the street. There’s a million fire trucks here…and…I don’t know what to do,” she said through her tears.

  “Martin’s there, right?” Martin was in charge of the store in her absence.

  “No, his wife had her baby early, and he called in…she’s not doing so well and…Marie, can you come in? No one knows what to do. The firemen are asking questions…like insurance…and I don’t…and nobody…”

  Marie closed her eyes in disbelief. “Of course, Esther. I’ll be there as soon as I can. See if you can find the fireman in charge and tell him I’m on my way.”

  “Oh, thank you so much, Marie. I just didn’t know what…”

  “Everything will be okay. Wait for me there. And try to calm down, okay?

  “Okay.”

  Marie hung up the phone and let out an audible sigh. I can’t believe this is happening, and why now? Are the gods trying to tell me something? But, no use worrying about it until I see what’s going on. She threw on her trench coat and left her home, her worldly belongings still in the pantry.

  Marie’s thoughts were rampant as she drove to work. Esther was so shaken, she hadn’t relayed many details of the fire, like where it was, how big it was, was it under control or if anyone was hurt. She wondered what her involvement was going to have to be, especially given the state of affairs with Martin. She pictured herself saying to Mr. Bakersfield, “Gee, I’d really like to stay and take care of this mess, but I’m leaving my husband and…” She couldn’t take that thought any further.