Unfortunately, despite knowing people personally who had met a suitable marriage partner on internet dating sites, on the sporadic occasions that Louise gave these sites a try, she only met men who lied about their age and education and were still angry with their ex-wives.
Therefore, internet dating was not satisfactory except to prove the law of diminishing returns, so Louise assessed her future realistically.
She summed up her assessment a few years after her divorce. “I’m not going to have another romantic involvement.”
And there it was. At age 50, with three reasonably mature kids, Louise was facing the future as a single woman.
But as it turned out, her life was full of relationships with interesting, attractive people whom she really enjoyed being with and who valued her very highly as a person: her three children.
James, at age 22, was still a full-time student studying a master’s degree.
Peter, at 15, had a large circle of friends, did well at his academically rigorous school and played sport with more gusto than talent; but he was committed and enthusiastic: both essential qualities in a teenage team player.
And 16 year old Camille – her dyslexic, shy, gawky daughter - had blossomed into a willowy blonde artist who wore Dolce Gabana tinted glasses to read Charlotte Bronte novels on her Kindle.
All three of them lived, and entertained their friends, at home. All three of them focussed on achieving a set level of academic success. None of them aspired to perfect results; but each required a certain level of achievement to maintain their personal status. In short, they were internally motivated and Louise was greatly relieved to know it.
Whenever she thought of ‘meeting someone’, it was never in a wistful moment because they didn’t exist. When she was married, and upset and lonely, the wistful moments had been a good portion of her day. But now – life was so pleasant and so interesting that all the moments were full and happy.
She only ever thought of ‘meeting someone’ when she got together with her divorced friends and family. Even the ones who had regrouped and formed new, blended families, seemed intent on discovering Louise’s current status in this regard.
But where would she slot another person – a man – into her life? There were only 24 hours in a day and she currently had none to spare, especially at night.
“But your kids are old enough,” her sister Jane had insisted. “You can leave them at home at night.”
It was true; she could have left them at home at night quite safely. But there was more to it than that.
When Jeff had first left, apart from the relief, Louise had also felt the spaces in her life and their home. She used to look forward to 6pm when Jeff would arrive home. Not because he was pleasant company – but because his arrival gave shape to the household day. It was like the tide. By the time Jeff arrived home, the dinner had to be an hour away from being ready, and all the errands and outdoor commitments should be completed.
When he stopped coming home, the day became mooshy and no one quite knew when anything would happen. At one point, even dinner became an elastic event. Louise had had to insist that they meet at the table for dinner at a set time each day. She used the excuse that she wanted to cook one meal and clean up after it so her day was finished rather than dragging on all night, but in reality what she really wanted was this one orderly meeting of the family. Alright, so it wasn’t always orderly – but it was regular. That was something.
They each had a computer in their bedroom, except for Louise. Her computer was in the kitchen. So, unless they were eating or socialising, the kids were in their bedrooms when they were at home. Most evenings, Louise spent her evenings sitting alone in the lounge room; either watching TV, talking on the phone to her sister, or reading a book. But frequently one or two or all of the kids would tell her something or ask her something or be telling or asking each other something that she would overhear. This kept them connected in a way Facebook never would.
Like the time Camille had received a Facebook message from a boy who had previously dumped her without explanation. Camille had showed first Louise, and then James the message, and they had all discussed what her reaction should be. In the end, James’ insight into the mind of a 16 year old young man, and his treatment of and attitudes towards young women like Camille, had been both informative and decisive. They may not always agree, Louise thought, but when it came to sexual politics in the 21st century, her kids trusted one another’s judgement.
“If a child has to choose between their parent being absent and having fun; and their parent being in the next room having a nervous breakdown, they will choose that their parent be in the next room.” Louise recalled hearing this said by an amusing psychologist who was speaking on the subject of ‘quality time’ – the much lauded retort of the working mother to her critics. And Louise was not convinced that quality time excused the need for quantity time. Parenting was a relationship, and like a relationship, it changed because the needs of the people changed. When they are babies, children need safety, security, constant teaching and feeding. It is a 24-7 job for several people. Those people may or may not be the parents, but the work must be performed constantly for years.
Thank god for school. It provided a good portion of the care required by children aged between 8 and 18. But if school looks after 6 hours, and sleep takes care of 8 hours – what of the remaining 10 hours? Even if you take out an hour for grooming and an hour for meal times, there are still 8 active hours for each child in each day. And on the weekend – you have to add back the 6 school hours.
It all adds up.
Louise remembered growing up when both her parents worked full time. Her mother had returned to work when she was in Year 4. After that, Louise always took the long way home. She dropped in at friend’s houses whose mothers were there; and she dawdled the rest of the way to her house. She was the eldest and the other four – all noisy and active; all watching TV or playing – were always around, but there was really no one there for Louise. The house felt empty till her mother got home. Why was that?
She remembered the lady next door, Mrs Dempsey, telling Louise that hers was the nicest house in the street, and that being beside Louise’s house had increased the value of their own home. Louise couldn’t take it in. Mrs Dempsey was a housewife. She baked the most delicious things she called “slices” and always had a container full of them. Her daughter was Louise’s best friend and classmate – they were both girls; both the eldest of five; and they lived next door to one another. But the similarities stopped there. Mrs Dempsey stayed at home and baked treats for her family. Their house was warm and clean and their mother was always there.
Louise’s home was big and cold and empty, except for all the kids. She envied the Dempsey kids their comfortable home. Louise kept waiting for the nice part to start, when having a beautiful house would be enjoyable. It didn’t seem to ever come. The weekdays were to be endured and the weekends were spent quietly not waking up their parents, who slept in till 2pm; or helping her mother shop for the coming week, or doing the laundry.
Louise much preferred the Dempsey’s house, too. It was warmer and cleaner more of the time. It wasn’t till she was older that Louise realised that that was a function of Mrs Dempsey’s presence as much as any failure of the architecture of her own home.
Chapter 28 – Mature brides
“We’re getting married!” It was Louise’s younger sister, Jane.
Louise knew that this was very exciting news. David was a steady, loving partner, father and step-father; he was a good provider; and a sociable guy. He gave Jane whatever she wanted. There was just one thing he wouldn’t give her – and that was what she wanted more than anything else.
He refused to marry her.
“I can’t marry you,” David had explained. “You’ve had your family and can’t have any more kids. I haven’t had my family yet.”
“I can get my tubes untied!” Jane had never had such a deep “marital�
�� conversation with David before. She felt close to achieving this great thing – marrying the man she loved and admired. So - there was a concrete reason that he hadn’t wanted to marry her! She felt huge relief, and knew that she could solve this problem.
David was disbelieving. “You can?” He gulped. He blinked. “Are you sure?”
Jane nodded. “Leave it to me,” she said.
So, she had had her tubes untied. Louise was surprised. Was Jane seriously lining up for a fifth child at the age of 40?
“That doesn’t mean you will be able to get pregnant, though,” David warned Jane. “After all, you are 40 now.”
But Jane went ahead and had the reversal and was pregnant within 3 months. She shrugged. “When you’re fertile, you’re fertile!” was her only comment.
Still, David recoiled from the marriage plans.
“But isn’t this what you wanted?” Jane demanded when she announced her pregnancy and asked David whether they should marry before the birth, or wait till after.
“I don’t want to get married to a pregnant bride!” David was definite. “I’ve never been married before – I want it to be right!”
Jane thought about it. “It would be more fun if I wasn’t pregnant,” she agreed. “Alright – let’s wait till the baby is born, and I’ve got my figure back.”
David smiled. “Yes, let’s,” he agreed.
So, Ryan was born and of course Jane filled out his birth certificate so that he had his father’s surname. They were a family.
But somehow the marriage never happened. Even Jeff shook his head on the many occasions that Jane would call Louise and bemoan her unmarried state. “She made a tactical error when she allowed Ryan to have David’s surname,” Jeff said.
“Do you think so?” Louise was surprised.
“Of course! Why else would David get married? There is no benefit to him. He already has Jane, and a home with her and his son – who already has his name. Why would he marry now when he has never shown any inclination to marry before? She had what it took to get him to the altar and she blew it.”
“Wow!” Louise was surprised to hear her husband’s view on the matter. “I’d better tell Jane.”
The years rolled by and Jane and David prospered. They renovated their elegant and spacious home; they had the pool area re-landscaped. David bought Jane a European sports car. David bought Jane a diamond ring. David took Jane and their son on a 3 month tour of Europe, during the peak season. But he refused to get married.
Then, one day, he turned to her and said “The house looks good. Why don’t we get married here?”
Jane looked at him. He looked the same. She gulped. She blinked. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s.”
But Louise wanted the details. “What changed his mind?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” said Jane. “Are you coming?”
“Can I be the maid of honour?” asked Louise.
“No, I’m not having any attendants,” answered Jane. “Besides, you were my maid of honour last time, and look how that turned out!”
“Don’t blame me!” Louise was indignant. “No one could believe it when you were dating Sam. I wouldn’t have even danced with him – let alone marry the man!”
“I was young,” Jane replied.
“No one is that young.”
“Whatever. So you’re coming?”
“Yes! Of course!” Louise answered excitedly. “But I still want to know What Happened to change David’s attitude.
She would never know. David didn’t tell anyone. But there was a good reason.
He had been in a meeting with his employer. David and Paul had been contracting as Information Technology specialists to government departments for a number of years. It was a profitable arrangement. They worked hard and often around the clock, but the money was good and the team reliable so it was a worthwhile operation. Being a contractor meant that they had to negotiate all their own “conditions” – the things employees took for granted, like leave loading, holiday pay, retirement and superannuation funding. Paul had invited Ross, a retirement and taxation specialist, in to discuss their situation, and David decided to consult him privately, too.
They met at Ross’s office and after exchanging pleasantries, Ross asked David how he could help him.
“I want to ask you how I should set up my financial situation.” David explained that he and Jane had a son, and that she had four children from her marriage, and that she was divorced.
“So,” said Ross, “Jane has been married before?”
“Yes, but she has been divorced for 10 years.”
“What are the ages of her first family?” Ross was writing it down.
David thought. “Let’s see. Jeremy is 25, Rachel is 24, Emily is 20, and Felicity is 16. Felicity lives with us,” he explained.
“And when were you two married?”
“We started living together 10 years ago.”
“And the date of your marriage?”
“We are not married.”
“Were you married before too?” Ross asked.
“No,” answered David.
“So, Jane has five children and you have one.”
“Well, I have two really, since Felicity has always lived with us and she was only 4 when we met.”
“But you are not married to her mother.”
“No.”
“And the house is in both your names?”
“No, just mine.”
Ross looked up. “Did you buy it before you met Jane?”
“No,” answered David. “But Jane’s ex-husband quit his job as soon as they separated and she has paid so much child support for the past 10 years, I didn’t want to get our assets mixed up in all that.”
“So now that the child support has stopped, and you have safeguarded your assets by not marrying Jane so that the Child Support Agency can’t include your income in their assessment, you are wondering how to ensure that your own son – and Felicity, whom you regard as your step-daughter - will be financially secure if anything should happen to you.”
David smiled. He had consulted the right person. Good. “Yes,” he said.
Ross put down his pen and looked at David. “Well, there are a number of ways you can do it,” he said. “You could use a family trust structure, and put the house into the trust, but you would have to pay stamp duty on it.”
“I’ve already paid stamp duty though!” David was puzzled.
“Yes, I’m sure you have. But if the asset – the house – is to have a new owner – the trust – the new owner must also pay stamp duty.”
“Oh.”
“For this method to be efficient, you really have to get the trust to buy the house in the first place; not transfer the house into it after you have bought it. That’s when you pay stamp duty twice.”
“I see.” David was thoughtful.
“Or, you could put Jane’s, or Ryan’s, or both names, on the house along with yours. Then, if you die, they automatically get the house.”
David looked relieved. “That sounds better,” he said.
Ross smiled at him. “But you will still have to pay stamp duty – more, if you put both their names on as equal owners.”
“What?” David was confused.
Ross explained. “Well, you only have to pay stamp duty on half the value of the house if you put Jane as joint owner; and you’d have to pay stamp duty on two thirds of the value of the house if you give both your son and his mother an equal share to yours.”
“Right.” David nodded. “I get it.”
“Or, you could marry Jane and write a will leaving her all your possessions. That would cost you whatever it costs to write a will.”
“Are you serious?” David couldn’t believe it was so simple.
“Absolutely.”
“But couldn’t I just leave her the house in my will anyway? Why do I have to get married?”
“You don’t have to get married. You can just leave her the
house in your will. But then her other four kids as well as Ryan can make a claim too. You will have put Jane on an equal footing with all the children who have been your dependents at one time or another. By making her your wife, you elevate her status above the children and they will only inherit after she dies, if you pre-decease her; and when you die, if she pre-deceases you.”
“So,” David wanted to clarify this, “If we are married, and Jane dies before me, I automatically inherit all her assets, even her retirement money, and her kids get nothing?”
“As her spouse, you would automatically get her retirement money.”
“That’s all she has,” David explained, “but she has a fortune in superannuation. She’s been a director in the public service for most of her working life.”
Ross continued. “But if you are not married, you are simply one of the people who would be eligible to inherit from her.”
David nodded. “I get it.” He stood up and shook Ross’s hand. “Thanks for this talk, Ross. I’ll be calling you.”
“It’s a pleasure, David.”
David left Ross’s office with his mind in a whirl. For ten years he had watched Jane paying almost half her gross income – which in fact amounted to 80% of her net income – to her ex-husband in child support. Both David and Jane had visited the kids in the caravan their father had set them up in. They never went to school and had only to call the RSL club poker machine room to find their father. It was a nightmare. Sam had moved the kids to Queensland after the divorce, leaving Jane behind in Canberra, in her well-paid job. After a court battle, Jane had at last gotten Felicity back – then four years old. Now the three oldest kids were adults and no more could be extracted from Jane in this way.
But they still begged money from her – huge amounts, regularly. It made David so angry, but Jane seemed incapable of staunching the blood-letting financial drain to her three oldest children. None of them had a career – only the oldest boy even had a job. They weren’t nice to their mother and never thanked her. David tried not to think about them but he spent a good deal of his time thinking of ways to thwart Jane’s efforts to divert money to them.
Morning in Melbourne Page 21
