Installment Forty-Seven

I had been ready for a knock on my door before the sun came up.

God bless cousins. Julie had taken me in hand yesterday for a quickie make-over. First we went to the Rideau Centre to comb the stores for something half-way decent for me to wear. She had also dragged me to her hairdresser in a last ditch attempt to de-age me with streaks and a haircut that didn't look like I had blindly taken scissors to my hair myself (which I had done).

Sadly, there was nothing I could do quickly about my lumpy body. The new outfit mitigated, ever-so-slightly, the worst of the bulges. Long term, I need about a year of starvation.

For someone who didn't wear bras until well into her teens, I now seem to spill out of them. Julie's theory is that as I shrink in height, my boobs get bigger. So really, by that logic, I don't need to lose weight. I just need to grow a few inches.

When the intercom buzzer rang, I jumped to respond, no questions asked. I could have been letting in a serial killer for all I cared.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I said, upon opening my apartment door.

"Hello Joelly. You look like you've seen a ghost."

Well, that's because I was expecting one.

"Didn’t our daughter give you my message? I saw her last night after I got in."

Note to self: crawl out of the shower to answer the phone next time. And remember to check for messages before days like this one.

"You look well." TBM said. "In fact, you look quite dressed up. That's kind of nice. Not for me surely?"

"Don't call me Shirley."

Did I detect relief in his voice that my sense of humour meant I was happy to see him? I quickly quelled that notion.

"Let me guess," I ventured. "That baby from your office you ditched me for has left you. And I'm betting it's because you have been forced to retire."

"Did that crazy South American psychic friend of yours give you super powers of intuition?"

"Deductive reasoning, Martin," I said. He looked like death warmed over. Maybe Deborah had been correct in thinking another coronary was in his future.

"One, I didn't hear her in the background the last time you ranted at me from China; two, your mother has cut you out of her will and she overheard the conversation; and three, you are now standing in my apartment here in Ottawa. I don't believe it's our daughter's engagement which has brought you here either. Let me guess. You want to cancel the divorce proceedings.”

LOL.

His silence was overwhelming.

"Jesus H. Christ Martin! I'm not right am I? About cancelling the divorce I mean." I looked at my watch.

"Am I keeping you from something?"

"You mean like getting on with the rest of my life?"

"I’m sorry Joelly. For everything. Believe it or not, I can even produce a doctor's certificate verifying that heart attacks can change a man's personality."

"I don't recall any coronaries earlier in our marriage, Martin, when you were screwing around on me all the time."

He had no comeback for that. So we just stared at each other, wondering who would say something next. What could possibly be said?

Of course, cue the apartment intercom buzzer. It sounded at that exact moment.