If you experienced a niggling feeling of deja vu reading that last post, I certainly had that feeling writing it. It sounded an awful lot like a previous post, and in ensuing weeks I found myself in a devastatingly dysfunctional rendition of groundhog day. But we’ll get to that.
Throwing Mort out for the second time was no easier than the first in terms of the ‘cover’. We had another big weekend planned with our friends. One of my good friends is a part-time photographer and so a group of us had her take family portraits and then we were all having dinner together. Why wasn’t Mort there for the family photos? “Unexpectedly called away for work again”.
Everytime I look on the wall in my room and see the enlarged photos of my girls beaming back at me with their radiant smiles I am so very very grateful that Mort was “grounded” and didn’t feature in these pictures……because they might not have survived the great photo massacre later the next year. Again, we’ll get to that.
While he was at the hotel, we spoke multiple times. Whenever I said the word divorce he would say something to the effect of “don’t threaten me”, I would simply reply that it wasn’t a threat, it was a reality. We had another big event coming up in a few days, a cocktail party for the school parents & citizens committee. The ‘Mort away for work’ story was growing thin as he had never in the history of this job had to go anywhere and now he suddenly had to do it twice in a few weeks. So we were going to have to put on the ‘front’ with false smiles and attend together.
In the meantime, upon my insistence that he go and talk with his doctor, he said that his doctor had prescribed him medication for anxiety and depression and that should make everything go back to normal. Yep, sure.