Abashed the Devil Stood...

Pamela and I searched the Internet for one hour after she sent the text. Pamela is the queen of investigation and surveillance; I swear that she missed her calling. When she read the excerpt from a 2007 med school bulletin, "...Justina Jackson, who painted the murals depicting regional...scenery, is the wife of Romeo Jackson, MD/MBA student...", she could not stop searching.

"Did he ever mention anything about marriage...ever?", asked Pamela. I thought for a moment and replied,"We had a conversation last week, which we began by discussing the institution of marriage and then led to the subject of our parents' respective divorces. He said that he doesn't think that the ceremonial act of marrying is important and living together is sufficient." "Frankie", began Pamela, "perhaps he is divorced", said Pamela. "No way, why wouldn't he mention it during that conversation?", I asked. "I am telling you Frankie, calling it right now", Pamela continued, "He was married and burned...probably badly. No man is going to tell you that he thinks so casually of marriage unless he has been there in the past and it didn't work." "Don't I have a right to know?", I asked. "He may not be ready yet", said Pamela, who was playing devil's advocate. "Shouldn't he have given me a choice; I don't want to date a divorced guy!", I complained. "So then don't date him Frankie; it isn't a big deal. Plus, you are getting older, your pool of options is becoming smaller and soon, well they will almost all be divorced", said Pamela. "Well doesn't THAT sound promising. It can't be true; can it? Don't I deserve something wonderful? Why is it that they all have a fucking issue or fifty?", I asked. "Yes, you do deserve the best, though perhaps you are taking this too seriously. This isn't something that will directly hurt you; it isn't an action that he is using against you. This is his; it is something that happened to him, if it did happen; if there is no longer a Justina Jackson who exists in his life".

Earlier today, I took Grandma to her radiation treatment. On warm, sunny days, I roll her up to the hospital in her in her wheelchair, though today's snowstorm made that quite difficult and we took a taxi. She marveled at the large skyscrapers as we made our way through Times Square and admired the tiny shops which line Ninth Avenue in Hell's Kitchen. Watching her discover this life so late though still able to enjoy it was so amazing that I didn't care when my publisher called, apologized, and told me that he had no choice but to lay me off. I expected that call for a few weeks, though I am not worried, as I will always survive. There is just no way that they could wait for me in this economy and I had no other option than to wait for Grandma, as she always waits for me.

While waiting for Grandma to finish her treatment session, I pondered divorce; Lucifer's possible divorce, my parents' bitter divorce, and the rhyme and reason for each. Dad had told me that he wanted so badly to make it work, though mom simply didn't want that life any longer. She wanted to be single again and had no room for this man in her life any longer. She denies that these accusations are true, though I have been fortunate enough to recognize the trends in her dating throughout the years. I now know that there is simply no way he could be wrong about her cheating heart.

Lucifer and I saw each other only briefly over the last few weeks, as Grandma needed me more and honestly, I was a bit disgusted and not ready to address this issue. Tonight, I was determined to either coax some answers from him or simply end the relationship. After dinner with the family this evening, I decided to meet him at the Angelika where we saw Doubt. Hey, we are both Catholic high school survivors; one atheist and an infidel. I was taking the night off from Hope Lodge and told him that I would spend the night at his place (well, we'll see). We started making out and despite my usually voracious sexual appetite and he being an incredibly adept lover (fine, yes, he is the best that I ever had), I was simply not in the mood. We stopped at a PG-13 type ending and then lay in bed, as Feist softly hummed 1,2,3,4 in the background, when he asked what I want in a man and I answered, "Someone who is kind...from whom I may learn and...wants more from this life than what they are given. And you?" He thought for a moment, so beautifully sad when he remembers his past and considers his future. "I want someone who is on my level; not necessarily regarding their choice of career or education. I could love a rock star...or an artist or a bartender, in fact, my preference would be that they not work within the medical field. They should want from life what I want." Could he have planned to provide a better segue for me to address this issue?? I thought for a moment and asked, "Did you ever think that you found her?" He breathed deeply and I wondered if he would admit it...though what exactly was it? Staring at the ceiling he exhaled a "Yes...I was once married; though I am not...any longer." Still a bit stunned no matter how long I prepared, I asked, "Completely divorced? Separated? Any children?". If he mentions children, then I am out of here. "Completely divorced; it was finalized a year and a half ago. No kids, I wanted them, but...", he trailed off. I turned my body toward him and said,"You don't have to tell me the story, if you don't feel comfortable doing so."

He met my gaze and cautiously began, "Well, we dated for about five years and were married for three. We were trying to have children; that is what I wanted...and thought she wanted. She began having an affair with a colleague...and realized that she wanted him more, though made that decision before she realized that she was pregnant." I held my breath, though did not offer any further reaction. He continued,"She said that she didn't know whose child it was, though I, uh...I calculated...I know that it was my child." I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. "And you said that you have no children now?," I asked, trying to confirm what he was telling me without saying the words. Apparently, he felt compelled to say the words, "Yea, that's right Frankie...she aborted it...she didn't want our child and she chose her lover over her husband."

He too, bleeds...

--Frankie