My Two Husbands

by Yari Martinez

  “You will get it when you drop off the petition. Dates are given usually four to six weeks from the date of the request,” she tells me as if my question is stupid.

  “Okay, thank you. By the way I’m not a bad mother, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just a very unfortunate situation for me right now,” I snap, no idea why I am justifying myself. My stomach hurts at the thought that I have really let Kaylee down and that another woman thinks I am not worthy of being a mother. I clutch the blank petition as if my life depends on it.

  “Ma’am, I don’t think you’re a bad mother or a good mother. I don’t think anything! I’m also sure my opinion is the least of your worries.” She gives me a quick smile and proceeds to close the file cabinet.

  “I guess you’re right. Thank you for this,” I say, holding up the blank petition, and I turn around to leave.

  I can’t get out of the office fast enough. I should have hired a lawyer and avoided this moment, but the last time I hired a lawyer I lost more than I could have ever imagined. Better to try on my own and see how things turn out.

  I think back to the time Hunter and I were a team, when we were on the same page. It all seems long ago, and I can’t help but wonder what could possibly get us back on the right track as parents.

  Instead of the court system helping us rebuild what we have lost control of, it has made matters worse. Both lawyers committed a legal grand larceny and left with a lot of our money.

  The day Kaylee was born, it seemed nothing could ruin our perfect moment. We felt fixed in time. Nothing mattered more than the three of us. Thinking back, I realize I was naive to believe a mother and her daughter could never be separated. I shove the petition into my purse and tell myself I had better buck up and get ready for the fight that awaits me.

  I walk out of the courthouse. It’s best sit for a while on the steps outside to curb my irritation. As I sit there busy with my thoughts, a man lifts a smoldering cigarette towards me from inside his car and offers me a half-smile. I refuse to return the smile—who smiles at strangers? I continue to look through him.

  Thinking doesn’t get me far. Subconsciously, my mind turns to food. I get up to look for a place to eat. Without realizing it, I have walked a few miles and feel emotionally drained, physically exhausted. In desperate need of a cheeseburger, I walk into a hole in the wall and sit down. I feel crappy, so a crappy hole in the wall suits me fine.

  “How are you today?” asks a very petite woman with light brown hair, eyes as dark as night and skin as fair as snow, with just a hint of sun to tell her apart from vampires. She passes me a one-sheet menu.

  I take the menu but don’t read it.

  “I wish better,” I say, adjusting myself and my belongings in the seat.

  “Well, I’m sure the storm can’t last forever. Anyway, I’m Julie. What can I get you to start you off?" She waits expectantly with her little notepad. I debate what I want to drink: I can’t make up my mind, so I just settle for something simple.

  “I’ll have a water and a cheeseburger, that’s all.” I grab the menu and hand it back to her as she smiles at me.

  “I’ll be right back with that,” she says as she leaves.

  I place the blank petition on the table and look through it. After the obvious questions such as names, date of birth, addresses, and so on, come the real questions: who has custody of the child(ren), how long has the child(ren) lived at the current residence? Will you the Petitioner be requesting Custody/Visitation? They seem like legitimate questions, but do my answers affect what happens in court? Someone should create a how-to video for this on YouTube.

  Minutes later, the waitress returns. “Here’s your cheeseburger and your water,” she announces. “I hope you don’t mind I also brought you a Sprite in case the water doesn’t mix well with the cheeseburger. On the house of course.”

  I push the papers to the side, making space on the small table for my plate and drinks.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  She walks away, and the cheeseburger disappears without much effort into my stomach. I definitely know how to wash away my sorrows with food. I take a sip of the water, but I can see why Julie brought over the soda: I was doing the cheeseburger an injustice with the water.

  I feel lighter, regardless of the fact that I probably just ate three thousand calories in one sitting, but who’s counting. I look around and realize there aren’t really any customers—just a few here and there, but definitely not enough to distract me from my thoughts. I look at my cellphone and see a text from Dominic, “Miss you beautiful.” I put the phone back in my bag. It’s best to ignore this for now, because I’m not in the mood to entertain anyone but myself. Plus I don’t think Dominic can relate to how I am feeling, and it will be unfair to expect any different. I raise my hand to let Julie know I am ready for the check, and she quickly brings it over.

  “How was the cheeseburger?” she asks.

  “Pretty good,” I say with a smile.

  Julie grabs my plate and cups from the table and says, “I hope I’m not overstepping my boundaries here, but is that a Family Court Petition you were reading earlier?"

  “It’s okay, I don't mind. And yes, it was.”

  “Do you have a lawyer to help you with that or are you a lawyer?” she asks hesitantly.

  “I wish I were a lawyer… But no, I’m not. I don’t have a lawyer either.” I have no idea why this woman gives me a sense of comfort; maybe I’m in need of therapy. “I lost custody of my five-year-old daughter. I’m am desperate to regain custody.”

  Usually I wouldn’t share my thoughts with a total stranger, but this seems to be the only way to loosen the knot in my throat. Suddenly uncomfortable, I look away and start gathering my things to find something for my hands to do.

  “I’m really sorry to hear that. Can I take a seat?” Without waiting for an answer, she sits down. “Why don’t you have custody of your daughter?”

  As young as Julie appears, the concern in her face is comforting. It has been some time since I have felt that I could open up to another person about my problems. Not that I don’t have anyone to talk to, but after a few crying sessions with the same people over the same problem, I am exhausting even to myself.

  “I lost her because I couldn’t handle not being loved by my ex-husband. I had an affair that was made public during my divorce. The judge found my affair the sole cause of the failure of my marriage. Upon learning I was still with that man, the judge concluded that I shouldn’t be allowed to affect my child’s life anymore and felt my daughter would be best left in the care of her father. Funny thing is, the judge never questioned what made me have the affair in the first place. I guess it was just easier to put the blame on one of us,” I explain.

  I’m tired of holding over my own head that I had an affair. I can’t be ashamed or embarrassed for the rest of my life. I’m human and I made a mistake. If anyone wants to cast me as a scarlet, then let them.

  Julie gently places her hand over mine. “Did the man you love give you this beautiful ring?”

  I look down at my engagement ring as if it is the first time I am seeing it. “Yes he did. You would think I would be on cloud nine right now with a beautiful two-carat diamond-encrusted halo ring that I received just a few days ago, but I’m not. I’m happy to be engaged because it’s something I think I’ve wanted for a long time, but the sadness of not having my daughter is weighing down on me,” I say, realizing I was speaking out loud to myself rather than directly to Julie.

  “Well, it’s beautiful. You should be over-joyed. There’s nothing wrong with being in love. Sometimes love comes with a price we don’t expect, but at the end it’s still love.”

  I slide my hand away from her and look into her eyes, wondering what expression is on my face. “I haven’t taken a moment to think about a wedding,” I continue. “Now does not seem like the right time. I don’t know if you understand what I mean.”

  “I do understand. I know this is unexpec
ted and I know you need to see some credentials, but can I represent you in court?” she asks.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, please don’t think that at all, but—”

  “I'm a lawyer,” she cuts me off, “but a few years back my boss raped me. So I quit my job and here I am waiting tables.” She pauses without looking at me, and I realize we are all afraid of judgment. “As a lawyer, I should have faced him. But being on the opposite side of the podium is not as easy as people think. He took something from me that day. I thought disappearing would help return it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “Don’t be, you didn’t rape me.”

  “You should never allow anyone to steal anything from you.”

  I can’t imagine being raped and it makes me nauseous just to think about it.

  “Neither should you,” she says, looking straight at me.

  Here I am, once again thinking I have it worse than anyone in the world, wondering why me. Clearly, I don’t. I feel my face relax and my eyes tear up, but for the first time in a long time, it’s not for me.

  “I don’t know if you are here for me or if I am here for you, but I would love for you to represent me.”

  Chapter 8

  “But we agreed not to invade each other’s space!” I protest.

  “C’mon Brook! I don’t think me leaving some clothes here is really invading your space!” shouts Dominic from across the room.

  “It is when we’ve agreed not to live together until we are married,” I shout back, gathering the few things he has placed in a drawer and putting them back into his bag. Dominic has done a spectacular job at assuming he could leave his personal belongings in my house. Like a dog peeing on a hydrant to claim territory.

  Not long ago, I couldn’t get him to commit to a simple phone call. Now I can’t convince him that this is my house and he has no right to leave anything here.

  “The drawer was empty Brook. It can’t be such a big deal. You’ve no intentions of filling it!” he tries to reason with me.

  He doesn’t see me going into his home filling up empty drawers to my liking.

  “That’s precisely the point of it being empty! I can fill it up whenever I want with whatever I want. It’s not for you to fill with what you want!” He’d better not touch the bag until he is about to leave.

  “Why are you making this a big deal?” he says looking a tad embarrassed. Maybe I’m bruising his ego, but who cares! This is my space, and we are not married. The fact that I said “yes” to his proposal doesn’t mean he gets to violate my space before we get married!

  He walks up to me and kisses me and starts laughing. I can’t help but return a laugh. I have no idea why we are laughing, but it has definitely killed the tension.

  “I won’t invade your space until we get married. But when we do, this drawer is mine,” he declares.

  “Sounds fair,” I say, hugging him.

  I look at him and realize that as much as I think I know him, I don’t know him the way a fiancée should. He certainly isn’t a stranger. But now that I think about it, I did say “yes” to a virtual stranger.

  I know he is my fiancé. I know he’s educated and where he got his education. I know what food he likes, what makes him laugh, what he does for a living, the names of his friends, the names of his parents, the name of his ex-wife, what gives him the heebie-jeebies, yet I have no idea where he lives or any his bad habits. God knows what else I don’t know.

  At one point or another, I thought I knew Dominic. However, I realized that I knew close to nothing about him once my divorce started. He only let me see what he wanted me to see. By the time I opened my eyes to how ignorant I really was about him, my mind was too occupied with more important things to do anything about it.

  It would be a smart move to learn more about him before I take leap into a marriage that could be worse than the previous one.

  “Why haven’t you ever taken me to your place?” I ask.

  He puts his hands in his jeans pockets and averts his eyes, “You know I live with a roommate. What kind of a man will I be to take you to a house I share with another man?”

  “A man who makes sure his fiancée knows everything about him,” I answer.

  “If it will bring you any satisfaction to visit a guys’ den, I’ll gladly take you for a visit. But I wouldn’t feel comfortable. Whatever you want is fine with me.”

  “It’s only fair I know where you live if we’re going to spend our lives together. I can’t say ‘oh I didn't know that about him but he's my husband,’ can I?”

  The fact of the matter is I need more information before we take the next step.

  Dominic makes his way to a chair and sits down. I can tell he is feeling a bit uneasy, but I stare at him silently.

  “Anyway, how are things going with Hunter? Have you been able to see Kaylee?” he asks.

  I wonder if he really cares whether I have seen Kaylee or not. I think sometimes I blame him that I don’t have my daughter with me. Maybe that’s the reason I have never tried to introduce them to each other.

  I fold my hands in front of me, caressing my arms. I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with him.

  “I was able to talk to her on the Monday after we returned. But of course it’s never enough. I did go to court and picked up the paperwork to start a petition to file for custody again, since Hunter is giving me a hard time getting in touch with her,” I tell him.

  Mentioning Julie would feel like a betrayal to her privacy. Explaining how I met her isn’t really important, so it’s probably best I don’t mention her right now.

  “When’s your next court date?”

  “I don’t know yet. I have a lawyer drafting up the paperwork. Once we submit the petition, a date will be given. Let’s see what happens,” I say, hoping he drops this topic.

  “Are you working with the same lawyer who handled your divorce?”

  I look at Dominic as if he is a dragon with seven heads, “Absolutely not. Here I am without my daughter, and I had to pay him for getting me bullshit every-other-weekend visits. He’s done nothing to help me with the violations since the hearing. I feel I got robbed of fifteen thousand dollars.”

  Every time I think about the emotional and financial cost of my divorce, I cannot help but lose my temper. I should have switched lawyers when I had the chance. I had a gut feeling I would lose Kaylee, but I have never seen a mother lose custody of her child just because she didn’t want to be with her spouse. However, my case turned out to be different, and I have regretted not following my intuition ever since.

  “I understand. I wouldn’t use the same lawyer either. If you need anything let me know,” he grabs his cell phone and sits down. Thankfully, the conversation about Kaylee is done.

  I wonder how he feels about this situation, but right now that seems unimportant to me. Maybe when things settle on my end, I will ask him.

  “I was thinking about picking a wedding date,” he says unexpectedly.

  I sit down next to him. Guilt rushes through me that picking a date or planning our wedding has been the furthest thing on my mind. “I was thinking about a winter wedding in about two years. It gives us time to save money and gives us time to learn a little more about each other,” I say, almost in a whisper.

  Confused, he stares at me, “What more do you want to learn about me?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure in two years we will learn a lot. There’s no point rushing into anything,” I explain.

  “Two years sound good. Maybe I can start staying over more often. That’ll give us a feel of how things will be when we do start living together,” he replies.

  The thought of living together makes the hairs on my arm stand up and takes me back into the time I lived with Hunter. I remember how everything was as I thought it would be the first few years. We kept our promises of date nights and never putting anything outside our home first. But without warning, all that changed. He forgot I was his wife, and t
hen Dominic happened. Life hasn’t been the same ever since. I don’t think Dominic understands the change marriage and commitment bring.

  I need time before taking another leap. It isn’t right to compare a past relationship with a current one. Nor does it make sense not to give a new partner a fair chance at making you happy, but Hunter’s true personality didn’t appear until it was too late. I’d rather be safe than sorry.

  I get up, kiss his cheek, and walk out of the room as if I have something else to tend to. There is no point in continuing to talk about a drawer he isn’t going to fill up any time soon or a wedding I have no intentions of planning right now.

  I force myself to think about something else and find myself in the kitchen, where I make some more coffee. Not that I need it, but an extra never hurts.

  It doesn’t take Dominic long to join me in the kitchen, but I say nothing to him as I mix milk and sugar into my coffee while he sits at the table fiddling with his cellphone. As soon as I make it to the table with my coffee, he puts the phone down as if he doesn’t want me to see what he is doing.

  He is always sneaky with his phone, but since I have no intentions of letting him fill up my drawer with his crap, I won’t ask him anything about his phone.

  “What’re you going to do for the rest of the afternoon?” he finally asks, breaking the silence.

  Rubbing the tip of my index finger around the rim of my coffee mug, I look up at Dominic, “I brought my work laptop home. I have a few things to review before I return to work,” I lie.

  “Sound interesting. Well I’ve to get going. I’ll call you later,” he says without moving, as if to avoid making it obvious that he wants to rush out. I can’t blame him, so I get up first, knowing he will follow me and leave.

  To avoid being an uncaring fiancée, I watch him from the door as he settles into his car. He looks up at me, and I blow him a kiss and wave goodbye. He drives off with a smile, and I walk back into my house, happy to be alone with my empty drawer.

  It’s three-thirty in the afternoon. It feels like a good time to call Julie to ask her how things are going with my petition.