Read Online My Best Friends Have Hairy Legs by Cierra Rantoul - Free Book Online
Authors: Cierra Rantoul
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supposed to be my “happily ever after” urban myth. We just needed to work out the bugs with our relationship and how he dealt with his ex-wife.
When Marc told me that Marie would be picking Ryan up at the house, I told him that was not going to be possible. She could come to the city if he just didn’t want to spend the time or money to drive to meet her, but she was not to set foot in the house and he would need to make other arrangements with her. Angrily he left the room and two days later he told me they would be meeting the following Friday morning at 10 a.m. in Lake City since she was apparently living in Florida again.
The Wednesday before they were to meet, Marc and Ryan went out to the base where he was assigned to play pool at his squadron club house. For whatever reason, he left his cell phone behind—something he had never done before since it was almost an extension of his ear most of the time. When it rang unexpectedly, it startled me and when it later beeped signaling a message was waiting, I did something I had never, ever done before with any friend, boyfriend, or husband. I looked to see who had called.
See, trust for me is a big thing. Trust and honesty. They were things I gave unconditionally (notice the important use of the past tense verb there). They were things that I expected to get in my relationships as well. I respected Ryan’s privacy in his bedroom and with phone calls to and from his mom. I also respected Marc’s privacy with regards to the computer (which I bought), his email account, or cell phone even though I paid all the bills for them. I never went through his dresser drawers or his closet. I never thought I had a reason to—even when he acted secretive or blatantly lied to me about money I thought that he was just embarrassed about his financial problems. So when that little voice inside my head started to scream at me to listen to the message, especially since I was paying the bill for it, my first impulse was to tell it to shut up.
But it persisted… and I listened to the message.
Marie had called and left a message asking for directions to the house because MapQuest only gave her directions to the main street in town. The whole “meeting in Lake City” was just another lie. At that moment, I committed myself to divorcing him.
I deleted the message and deleted the calls on his cell phone’s missed call log. When they returned from playing pool I said nothing about the call and acted as if nothing was wrong. The next day when I went to work, I told my boss I had a situation I needed to take care of on Friday and would be taking a day of vacation. Saturday I had been scheduled to teach a writing seminar at the university where I taught part-time. I cancelled it.
Friday morning Marc and Ryan were up early. I should have been too… if I was going to work that is. Instead I listened to them moving things around in Ryan’s bedroom and fell back to sleep. When Marc came in and shook me awake, saying that I was going to be late for work, I just rolled over and said that I wasn’t going to work—I was taking the day off to get some things done around the house.
I wish now I had a picture of his face at that moment. It was one of those priceless moments when everything stands still and even the Earth stops spinning for a few seconds.
While I lay in bed for a little while thinking about the panic in his eyes and the shock on his face, I overheard him downstairs arguing with his ex-wife on his cell phone. He and Ryan spend the rest of the day whispering back and forth, stopping whenever I came into the room. When I asked when they were leaving to meet his ex-wife, he said the plans had changed and they would be meeting her on Saturday instead. I said fine, and went about my day doing chores and catching up on letters. I also started to inventory every single thing in the house and mark things with an “M” that I was willing to let him take when I asked him to leave. When
When Marc told me that Marie would be picking Ryan up at the house, I told him that was not going to be possible. She could come to the city if he just didn’t want to spend the time or money to drive to meet her, but she was not to set foot in the house and he would need to make other arrangements with her. Angrily he left the room and two days later he told me they would be meeting the following Friday morning at 10 a.m. in Lake City since she was apparently living in Florida again.
The Wednesday before they were to meet, Marc and Ryan went out to the base where he was assigned to play pool at his squadron club house. For whatever reason, he left his cell phone behind—something he had never done before since it was almost an extension of his ear most of the time. When it rang unexpectedly, it startled me and when it later beeped signaling a message was waiting, I did something I had never, ever done before with any friend, boyfriend, or husband. I looked to see who had called.
See, trust for me is a big thing. Trust and honesty. They were things I gave unconditionally (notice the important use of the past tense verb there). They were things that I expected to get in my relationships as well. I respected Ryan’s privacy in his bedroom and with phone calls to and from his mom. I also respected Marc’s privacy with regards to the computer (which I bought), his email account, or cell phone even though I paid all the bills for them. I never went through his dresser drawers or his closet. I never thought I had a reason to—even when he acted secretive or blatantly lied to me about money I thought that he was just embarrassed about his financial problems. So when that little voice inside my head started to scream at me to listen to the message, especially since I was paying the bill for it, my first impulse was to tell it to shut up.
But it persisted… and I listened to the message.
Marie had called and left a message asking for directions to the house because MapQuest only gave her directions to the main street in town. The whole “meeting in Lake City” was just another lie. At that moment, I committed myself to divorcing him.
I deleted the message and deleted the calls on his cell phone’s missed call log. When they returned from playing pool I said nothing about the call and acted as if nothing was wrong. The next day when I went to work, I told my boss I had a situation I needed to take care of on Friday and would be taking a day of vacation. Saturday I had been scheduled to teach a writing seminar at the university where I taught part-time. I cancelled it.
Friday morning Marc and Ryan were up early. I should have been too… if I was going to work that is. Instead I listened to them moving things around in Ryan’s bedroom and fell back to sleep. When Marc came in and shook me awake, saying that I was going to be late for work, I just rolled over and said that I wasn’t going to work—I was taking the day off to get some things done around the house.
I wish now I had a picture of his face at that moment. It was one of those priceless moments when everything stands still and even the Earth stops spinning for a few seconds.
While I lay in bed for a little while thinking about the panic in his eyes and the shock on his face, I overheard him downstairs arguing with his ex-wife on his cell phone. He and Ryan spend the rest of the day whispering back and forth, stopping whenever I came into the room. When I asked when they were leaving to meet his ex-wife, he said the plans had changed and they would be meeting her on Saturday instead. I said fine, and went about my day doing chores and catching up on letters. I also started to inventory every single thing in the house and mark things with an “M” that I was willing to let him take when I asked him to leave. When
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