Installment Twenty-Two

Martin called me last night from China. No, he screamed at me. Through his hysteria, I manage to hear words that sounded like did I slip his mother something in her tea when we last had lunch?

"I take it you got her lawyer's letter."

"You're damn right I did! Just what kind of crap are you trying to pull here, Joelly?"

There was more along the same lines, much of it incomprehensible. In the background I could hear a woman's voice egging him on.

"Oh, does your little gold digger think her oil well is going to run dry?" I always mix metaphors when I'm pissed off.

"That doesn't even make sense."

Men can be so stupid, vain and delusional. It had clearly never even occurred to him that this young woman was with him only for his money. As if a man almost sixty with one heart attack behind him is such a sex machine. (Talk about the efficacy of meds!)

"Whatever." God I love that word!

"Do you think I will let my mother do this to me? My father left her a shitload of money..."

"...you mean like the shitload I inherited?"

"And I fully intend to have it when she's gone..."

"...so you can blow through your inheritance instead of mine next time?"

We finally were cued up.

"You somehow convinced my mother that I spent your inheritance, is that right Joelly? Are you trying to even the score?"

Like I said, delusional.

I let the silence hang over the twelve time zones. His breathing was slowing down. I actually worried, albeit briefly, that he might have another coronary. I would feel responsible.

"No, Martin, I'm not trying to even any score. It was your mother's idea and frankly, I tried to get her to change her mind."

"You haven't heard the last of this, Joelly."

"Martin, you do what you feel you have to do. Your mother, as you know, has a very strong mind and it would seem that she has made it up."

"Well, I would love to know what brought this about."

Should I tell him? What the hell.

"She told me she's ashamed of you, Martin."

He didn't even pause to take a breath. "Why? Men leave their wives all the time."

"I think we both know there's more to her feelings than that Martin. But as I said, this is between you and your mother." I almost said dear mother but that would be rubbing salt in the wound.

There's a sorry old expat joke that has circulated for years that goes like this: What does an expat man want to be in his next life? Answer: an expat wife.

Of course while everything strange becomes normal after a while for most expat wives, some still feel dragged around the world, forced to abandon careers, watch their partners take a powder on responsibility, and in the end, screw an assistant and toss the wife.

OMG. That's me!

In my next life, I want to come back as an expat man.