Crystal Ball

by Laney Kay

  When I hung up, Sara and I looked at each other and I squealed. “OH MY God, I’m going to be on The Today Show”, and we both laughed. Then I said, “Shit! If it’s true that the camera adds ten pounds, I’m gonna need me some Spanx, or maybe something stronger like some sort of industrial strength girdle like my grandma used to wear.”

  Now I’m traumatized. I’m really not very good with clothes because I can’t stand anything that’s not comfortable. I remember this great quote from Gilda Radner where she said her fashion sense was based on things that don’t itch, and I totally get that. As a writer, my work clothes are generally pajama pants, fuzzy chenille socks, and a long-sleeved t-shirt in winter, and a tank, pajama pants and no shoes the rest of the year. I take dressing up as a personal affront, and I haven’t worn heels since a friend’s wedding in 1995. The few times I do have to dress up, I consider dress clothes to be a cotton dress over leggings with flip flops or flats.

  Sara patted me on the shoulder. “Look, make your calls, then we’ll go shopping and I promise it won’t be horrible.”

  Whatever. I hate to shop for clothes. Generally, the only way I’ll shop is either online, or if I’m drinking, and the problem then is I’ll do stupid stuff like buy eight of the same shirt, but in eight different colors and nothing to wear with it. One time I had to buy something for this stupid dinner Bobby and I had to go to, and I went drunk shopping and bought 10 pairs of holiday socks, one edible thong that did nothing but give me a fruit flavored wedgie, and nothing to wear for the dinner. It was completely moronic, but unfortunately, typical. I’m telling you, if it weren’t for the Internet, I’d be naked.

  Sara was thumbing through my messages and pulled one out and handed it to me. “Here. Call this chick. She’s from Early Morning Atlanta, and I met her at some function and she was really nice.”

  I shrugged and grabbed the phone. Why not? Hell, I called David Lawson, why not the local girl done good? While Sara made herself a mimosa, I called and asked for Angie Morgan and she answered her phone, “Angie Morgan.”

  I was shocked she answered the phone. “Uh, hey Angie. My name is Daisy Monroe, and I’m returning your call.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation and I could tell she was trying to remember who I was, so I gave her a hint. “Um, I’m the one who squished my husband’s testicle with the car.”

  She started laughing. “Now I remember. Sorry for the lapse. So, I wanted to get your side of the story.” She dropped her voice and whispered conspiratorily, “Come on, you can tell me. I assume you haven’t taken up squishing testicles as a career, or anything…”

  That made me laugh. “No, squishing testicles is not my normal job, it’s more like a hobby.” We both laughed and I told her, “Look, seriously, it was an accident and all the charges were dropped the next day, so it’s really not much of a story. I do have a date to talk to David Lawson sometime next week, and I’m hoping once everyone hears that the story is a whole bunch of nothing, this will finally die down.”

  Angie was sympathetic. “I hope it does, for your sake. Look, our station is an NBC affiliate, so once you talk to David, you can come on with us. Just email me as soon as you know when you’re scheduled with David and we’ll go from there. “

  We exchanged email addresses. “Sounds great. Thanks for your help, Angie.”

  “No problem, Daisy. I look forward to hearing from you, and I promise I’ll do what I can to make this as painless as possible.”

  Another thing done, and I actually felt much better now that I had talked to Angie. Check. Check. Off the list. Sara asked me what else I had to do and grabbed a pad so she could take notes. I have to meet with Bobby at the lawyer’s office to go over what the lawyer has put together for a settlement agreement so I can file. I still have a problem actually saying the word “divorce,” so I told Sara to put “saying divorce” on the list so I won’t be feel like throwing up every time I hear the word. Apparently, I have to meet with David Lawson and Angie Morgan so people will stop calling me the “nutcracker” and those late-night morons will stop harassing me. And maybe call People magazine.

  In the meantime, I’ve got to go buy pants that aren’t yoga pants. Maybe a dress. Definitely shoes. I asked Sara if she was ready, and she said sure, so I grabbed my keys, she grabbed a “roadie” by pouring her unfinished mimosa into a water bottle, and we headed out.

  Part II

  A New Normal…

  4

  Mo raised her glass and smiled at all of us at the table. “Here’s to Daisy’s new house, new marital status, and new job. Congratulations!”

  Everyone at the table whooped and hollered and clinked their glasses. “To Daisy!”

  I was feeling pretty cheerful, which I think is impressive considering that my divorce was just finalized as of today, exactly eight months and one day after the “vehicular testicular smackdown,” as Lola calls it. Honestly, Bobby and I had what is probably the most polite divorce in history. We quietly divided our money and assets, we took our stuff, and we went our separate ways. The only reason it took so long is because we waited for some stock options to vest so we could divide the assets more easily.

  In retrospect, maybe the fact that everything was so cordial was a comment on how little emotion was left in the marriage. Sara and I had talked about it late one night, how she said if she found out her husband had knocked up some skank she would have run him over on purpose then backed over him again to make sure he was good and dead, then gone and found that hussy and backed over her, too. I told her that I was furious at first, but then I was just sad. I’ve come to realize that I was sad that my marriage was over, not so much that Bobby and I were over. I think both of us had gotten to the point that we were more like good friends who shared a nice house and had an occasional booty call. I really liked being married and having a comfortable relationship with someone I had a history with.

  On the flip side, that doesn’t mean that I don’t hope he gets exactly what he deserves for being such a spectacular dumbass.

  I’ve been in my house for several months now, but I still can’t believe how painless the whole moving process was, although I have to think that at least some of it was the universe cutting me some slack. Plus, Lola being part owner of the moving company didn’t hurt either. Whatever the reason, the whole process was ridiculously easy, starting from the first day I did the house walk through with my dogs.

  I didn’t see anything else that needed to be done, and they’d already had the final inspection, so as soon as I gave the go ahead to Lola, the construction crew packed up their stuff, took down the permit signs, and moved on. The cleaning crew came the next morning, and by 3 in the afternoon, the house was sparkling clean and ready for me to move in. On Saturday, Lola and I took her pickup truck and moved all of my clothes over to the new house, plus we packed up some breakable things in the kitchen, all my toiletries and personal stuff, photographs, and my wind chimes and yard art and took them over, too. It took a lot of work, but by Saturday night, everything that I had brought over was put away and I was ready for my new furniture to be delivered on Monday. On Sunday morning I spent a few hours at the old house going through my old kitchen cabinets, pulling out all the things that I wanted and leaving the rest in the cabinets for Bobby. That way, everything that needed to be packed was out on the counters and ready for the movers to box it up.

  I had asked Harrison and Mark to buy a big TV for the living room, and a couple of nice sized ones for my office and bedroom. They are both great with anything involving technology, and I know nothing about televisions and care even less, so I was thrilled to hand them my credit card and send them on their way. So Sunday afternoon, Harrison, Mo, Mark, and Sara met us at the new house with the TVs in the back of Harrison’s truck.

  When they piled out of the truck, Mo and Sara saw me and started laughing. Sara rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Just remember, you asked for a big TV.”

  Oh no. I turned to see Harrison and Mark wrestl
ing a huge, flat box out of the back of the truck. My eyes widened when I saw it. “Holy shit!” The box kept coming. “How big is that thing?”

  Harrison laughed and Mark looked at me innocently. “What? You said you wanted a big TV, so we got you the biggest TV that would fit in the space.”

  That damn thing looked to be the size of a drive-in movie screen. “How big is that?” I shook my head, laughing, because I should have known better than to let them choose the size. You know a man always thinks bigger is better.

  Harrison grinned broadly. “It’s the perfect size. Seventy inches”. He winked at me and said in a low, Barry White voice, “Baby, come on, you know size matters.” That made me laugh as he continued. “Seriously, Daisy, we did the math and this size is the perfect size for this space. In other words, this is the biggest TV you get without having to sit outside in the yard to watch it.” They carried it past me, laughing as I stood there looking at it with my mouth open.

  Mark smiled. “Daisy, I promise you, the first time you watch a Georgia game on this bad boy, you’re gonna be loving us and our awesome taste in electronics.”

  I laughed as they put it down by the bookcases and went out to unload the rest of the truck. They brought in the other TVs, which looked to be much more normal sizes, then they brought in the mounts for all the walls, extra cables, and surge protectors. Three hours later, the TVs were on the walls and the guys had done a great job hiding the wires. By the time they were done, we had ordered Chinese food and ate it on the floor in the living room, laughing and having a great time. When we all left, I told them to plan on coming by Wednesday to check it out, because I’d be completely moved in by Tuesday night.

  Monday morning, the cable and phone company people came by to turn on my service and everything worked perfectly. The TVs all worked without any hassle, and I had to admit, I already loved my hugely obnoxious TV. When I turned it on, in that little space, it was like having a jumbotron in my living room. I remember what the guys said about football looking great on a big screen so I found a replay of last year’s SEC championship game on the SEC network, and the guys were right. It was fantastic. I couldn’t wait for fall. I called both of the guys to thank them again and to tell them how right they were and that I loved, loved, LOVED my new TV. It was actually a little embarrassing how happy it made me.

  That afternoon, a team of Lola’s delivery guys showed up with my new furniture and my washer and dryer. The new sofa, chair, and the tables fit perfectly in the living room, my kitchen table was beautiful, and my new bedroom furniture was great. I’d gotten a queen sized bed with a tall padded headboard that fit perfectly between the two windows on the bedroom wall. I’d found a beautiful Art Deco dresser that looked great with the bed and fit in the corner by the door and I was planning to put my great aunt’s cedar chest across from the foot of the bed. So far, I was thrilled because everything fit like it had been made for my little house.

  On Tuesday morning, the movers showed up at my old house promptly at 8 am, ready to go. Here’s what I discovered about moving. If you have people pack all of your stuff and then unpack all your stuff and put it away for you, moving is easy. I showed them which furniture pieces were going, so they started with that while I went through my books, stacking the ones I wanted to take on the floor and leaving the rest on the shelves. I shoved the piles on my desk into a tote bag and they packed up everything else. It was kind of magical…like having a team of five really large, sweaty elves. I’m sure it didn’t hurt that Lola-the-owner was working right alongside them.

  By one o’clock, everything was packed and loaded on the truck and we were heading over to the new house. They placed the furniture where I indicated, put the boxes in the correct rooms, and started unpacking. Lola and I headed to the kitchen and started unpacking that, because I use the kitchen all the time and I’m really picky about everything being in its place. Otherwise, with everything else, so long as it’s in the right room, I can figure it out later. Once we finished the kitchen, I went into my office to make sure the furniture was where I wanted it and I hooked up the computer, printer, and scanner, plugged in my phone, and put my piles of research back on my desk. Lola’s guys had simply taken out the desk drawers and covered them, not emptied them, so once they put them back in the desk, everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

  Next, Lola and I went out to her truck to get the bags of clean sheets and towels. I’d gone to Costco for new towels and pillows, and ordered all new sheets, blankets, and quilts from Amazon. I’d washed them as they were delivered to Lola’s place, so all we had to do was put them on the beds.

  By Tuesday at five o’clock, the movers were finished and gone. Books were on the shelves, art was on the walls, the kitchen was completely unpacked and organized, the beds were made, towels were in the bathrooms, everything was done. It honestly looked like I’d lived there for years and it was beautiful. Apparently, all it takes is a team of movers to cater to your every whim, some money, a little work, and a lying, cheating husband to get you the house of your dreams. Who knew?

  5

  Oh, and I have a new job, which is pretty hilarious. Yes, I’m still writing my weekly column and occasional feature articles for the paper, but I now have a weekly segment on Early Morning Atlanta where I talk to local figures who have done something of interest. Basically, I do fluffy, feel-good pieces. Last month, I did a short test piece on a local lady who saved the park in her neighborhood, and last week, I interviewed a kid who raised $10,000 on the Internet selling virtual lemonade for cancer research. Both segments got great feedback, so my first, full-length story is next week. So far, I’m having a blast.

  I know, how ironic is it that the reason I’m doing feel-good pieces is because I ran into my lying, cheating husband with a car? That doesn’t really seem right, does it? This does just go to show that life can turn on a dime.

  Here’s what happened. When I went on The Today Show, it ended up that David and I really had a great time together. The interview ended up being really fun, and then I went on the Atlanta morning show, and Angie and I were laughing and kidding around and I had a great time then, too. About a week later, I got a call from the show’s producer and they asked me if I would be interested in doing a weekly segment on some local interest stories. I asked her if I had to dress up and she said no, they’d get together and find me something funky to wear that wouldn’t annoy me, so I said I’d have to think about it and get back to them.

  When I told my friends about it, they were all adamant I should take it. This is a great time to make a change, I should take on a new challenge, blah, blah, blah. I couldn’t find a reason not to do it, so I called the producer back and told her I was in, and that was it. Now I write my column and articles for the paper, and I’m also a local TV chick, which is really kind of a hoot.

  I keep trying to figure out exactly when it was that our marriage started to go bad. I think it started about five years ago. We both started taking separate trips with our separate friends, then we started doing different things on the weekend. We’d see each other during the week, but it was usually just a combination of eat, hang out a little, go to bed, and go to work, so when we stopped doing things together on the weekend, we started to lose touch.

  The thing was, we’ve always enjoyed each other’s company, so it’s not like it ever got uncomfortable. When we did go to football games with our friends we’d have a great time. Several times a week, we’d take a walk after dinner and it was always comfortable and fun. We never watched TV together so some nights we’d eat dinner together and then wouldn’t see each other again till bedtime. We’d have sex sometimes, nothing exciting, but I always enjoyed it. Again, it was never anything but easy and comfortable.

  I’ll have to admit, even now, I still don’t really see a problem with that. I’ve never been a grass is greener girl. My grandmother always used to say that if everyone took all their problems and threw them in a big pile, we’d all take our own back
out. No one has a perfect life, everyone has stuff to deal with, and although another person’s life might look better to you from the outside, you never really know what’s going on behind closed doors.

  I totally get that, but I guess some people don’t. I guess Bobby doesn’t. You always see all those men on daytime talk shows, and when they have affairs they all say the same thing. It’s that she “made me feel young,” or “made me feel needed,” or “made me feel excitement again.”

  Whatever. Of course you feel that. Because it’s new, dumbass. Everything new feels exciting. Everything new is exhilarating. Here’s the thing that these guys forget. Once the newness wears off, you’re back to the same problem, except now you’ve traded one set of problems for a new set. I saw a t-shirt online that said, “For every great guy, there’s some woman who’s tired of his shit.” That’s so true. No relationship is perfect.

  Let’s face it, it wasn’t just Bobby. I mean, the affair was all Bobby, but what led to it was complacency on both of our parts. I was complacent to the point of not even seeing a problem and he was he was unhappy and wouldn’t even put the effort in working with me to make it better.

  But, bottom line, I’m not the reason Bobby wasn’t happy. Bobby was the reason he wasn’t happy, and unless he makes some changes in himself, a couple of years down the road, he’s going to have the same thing happen again. But, the difference is that now he’ll have a wife young enough to be his daughter and a kid, which he had always said he never wanted because he didn’t want to change his lifestyle. And yes, I have to admit I do get quite a bit of pleasure from that.