“Actually, Frank, we didn’t.” I pulled out a folder from my purse. The same purse he’d called matronly last Christmas. “See, when you started your affair three years ago, I got curious about our finances. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the house was purchased entirely with inheritance money from my parents. My name was the only one on the original deed.”
The silence stretched out like a rubber band about to snap.
“That’s impossible,” Frank whispered.
“Your name was added later as a gift when I thought we had a solid marriage, but gifts can be revoked under certain circumstances. Adultery, for instance.” I smiled sweetly at Amber, who was looking increasingly confused and slightly sick.
“Frank, what is she talking about?” Amber’s voice was small now.
That’s when I decided to drop the first bomb.
“Oh, honey, didn’t he tell you? Frank and I are still married.”
The color drained from Amber’s face so fast, I thought she might faint.
“Still married?”
“Very married,” I confirmed cheerfully. “You see, Frank told everyone you two got married in Italy. But what he didn’t mention is that you can’t actually get married when you’re already married to someone else. That’s called bigamy, and it’s illegal in most civilized countries.”
“Frank.” Amber’s voice was barely a whisper. “Frank, tell her she’s lying.”
Frank opened and closed his mouth like a fish, gasping for air.
Sophie had stopped recording and was staring at her father with growing horror. Even Jake, who could usually sleep through a tornado, was looking alert.
“I... we were going to... The paperwork got complicated.” Frank was stumbling over his words like a drunk man trying to walk a straight line.
“What paperwork?” I asked innocently. “The divorce paperwork I never signed? The paperwork your lawyer never sent me? Or maybe you mean the marriage license that doesn’t exist because you’re already married to me?”
This was the part I’d been looking forward to for months. You see, Frank had spent so much energy planning his romantic Italian getaway that he’d forgotten about tiny details like actually filing for divorce. He’d assumed I’d just quietly disappear, sign whatever papers he eventually got around to sending me, and let him live his best life.
Men like Frank always assume women like me will just roll over and play dead. We’re supposed to be grateful for 28 years of marriage to someone who thinks Hooters is fine dining and considers scratching himself in public a form of self-expression.
“So you two had a commitment ceremony,” I continued, enjoying the way Frank was sweating. “Very sweet. Totally meaningless legally, but sweet.”
“You...” Amber finally found her voice, and it was shrill enough to wake the neighbors. “You ruined everything. We had plans. We were going to be happy.”
“Were you now?” I tilted my head sympathetically. “And those plans included living in my house, spending my money, and playing stepmom to my children while I conveniently disappeared. How thoughtful of you to plan my life for me.”
“Mom, this is seriously messed up.” Sophie was looking at me like she was seeing me for the first time. “You can’t just destroy people’s lives because you’re mad.”
“Can’t I?” I asked. “Your father destroyed my life when he decided a marriage was something he could just walk away from whenever he got bored. He took our children, our friends, our social circle, and tried to take our home. The only thing he didn’t take was my brain.”
Jake was frantically typing on his phone, probably trying to find somewhere else to live. The trust fund baby was about to discover that trust funds don’t last forever when you don’t actually work.
“Where are we supposed to go?” Frank demanded. “I have rights. I have belongings in that house.”
“Had,” I corrected. “Past tense. And actually, your belongings are in a storage unit across town. Unit 247. The rent is paid through the end of the month.” I handed him a small key. “After that, you’re on your own.”
“A storage unit?” Frank stared at the key like it was a dead mouse. “You put my stuff in storage.”
“I kept what mattered to me and donated the rest to charity. Amazing how little actually mattered when I really thought about it.”
That was true. Twenty-eight years of accumulated junk, and the only things I’d kept were family photos and my grandmother’s china. Everything else had been just taking up space.
Frank was standing there holding the key, looking lost and confused. For a second, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Then Amber opened her mouth again.
“This isn’t over, you crazy old bat.”
And that’s when I smiled my biggest smile of the day. Because Amber had just made her first serious mistake. She’d threatened me in front of witnesses while I was recording. My lawyer was going to have a field day with this. But more importantly, she’d just given me the perfect excuse for phase two of my plan.
“Old bat,” I repeated, pulling out my phone and making sure it was still recording. “That’s interesting. Tell me, Amber, how old do you think I am?”
“Old enough to be completely desperate and pathetic.” Amber was really getting wound up now, her perfect little face twisted with rage. “No wonder Frank left you. You’re bitter and cruel and...”
“Fifty-two,” I interrupted calmly. “I’m 52 years old. Frank is 55. That makes me three years younger than your boyfriend. But I suppose when you’re 24, everyone over 30 looks ancient.”
“Age is just a number,” Amber shot back, but her voice lacked conviction.
“You’re absolutely right,” I agreed. “Just like bankruptcy is just a word.”
Frank’s head snapped up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, did I not mention?” I checked my watch like I was running late for an appointment. “Frank, honey, you remember that business loan you co-signed last year? The one for Jake’s brilliant cryptocurrency startup?”
Jake went very still. “Mom, you wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t what? Call in the loan that’s three months overdue? The loan that you personally guaranteed with your father’s signature?” I looked at Frank with mock concern. “You did read the paperwork before you signed it, didn’t you?”
Frank’s face had gone from red to white to a sickly green color.
“Jake, you said that was just a formality. You said the business was guaranteed to succeed.”
“It was,” Jake protested. “The market just shifted. Crypto is volatile. I can turn it around.”
“I’m sure you can,” I said sweetly. “But the loan company doesn’t seem to think so. They’ve been very patient, but patience has limits, as does my willingness to cover for family members who think I’m just an old bat they can walk all over.”
Sophie was staring at me like I’d grown a second head.
“Mom, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’ve been covering Jake’s loan payments for three months, hoping he’d figure out how to be responsible. But since he seems to think his mother is just a convenient ATM, I’ve decided to stop enabling his incompetence.”