A FBOW Excerpt in sequence: Awakening to Reality

Hearing him, Mercy came up from her bed in the family room.

Stooping, taking her muzzle in both hands, “I love you, my puppy.” Choking up, he pressed the Dalmatian’s head to the side of his face.

Going to the hall closet, putting a winter jacket on and taking his overcoat, opening the front door quietly, Mitchell Lipensky left what had been his home.

Des Plaines/Skokie/Chicago, Illinois

November 19, 1963

4:34 a.m.

Waiting till she heard the closing of the front door. Going downstairs, Marsha stood alongside the kitchen window watching as her husband opened the car door and placed the suitcase, his coat and sport jacked onto the rear seat.

Moving further to the side so he couldn’t see her — easily seen in the well lit driveway, Marsha looked at her husband as he looked back as thinking, Come back, Mitchell! Come back and admit it to me and tell me you love me more than her and that it’s over with her.

Remaining in the dark kitchen, pulling a chair from along side the table she sat with her face held between her hands.

Convoluted: Marsha Lipensky’s mind tells her I’m glad he’s gone! I’m happy I no longer have to pretend I love or that I even like him. That I can truly admit that I hate him.

Her head now within her crossed arms atop the table as coming from the lower region of Marsha’s convoluted sensibilities: Come back, Mitchell! Come back and admit it to me and tell me you love me more than her and that it’s over with her…

Marsha Lipensky cried.

Convoluted, Mitchell Lipensky sits in the cold car for the few seconds it took to warm up.

Fuck her! Go! Get the hell out of here! Fuck her!

Coming from the lower region of Mitchell’s convoluted sensibilities…

Go back! Go back and admit it to her and tell her you love her more than Elizabeth and that it’s over with her.

But he couldn’t do it because it would be a lie and she’d know it was a lie and Mitchell Lipensky ‘knew’ that he could never give Elizabeth up. Besides...

Knowing his wife, ‘knowing’ there was nothing he could say... And adding to his fathomless sadness, a light, sleety rain began to fall.

Sighing, swiping his hands over his face and damp eyes, he backed the Lark out of his assigned parking space, put the car into ‘D’ and drove through the community driveway.

Reactions

Mitchell gone. Knowing the children would not be stirring till six-thirty or so, taking a pain pill before returning to bed.

Thinking…

Recalling the three times she had left Mitchell. Thinking of her justifications for leaving Mitchell, thinking…

With the exception of that first time in the first year of their marriage when she had purposely goaded Mitchell into slapping her so she might justify flying to Chicago the next day.

Thinking…

Of their three separations, in the mind of Marsha Lipensky, the first was the only—though Marsha would never admit this to her husband or anyone else— the first separation was the only of the three that she took full credit for but when she ‘really’ thinks about it…

Throwing all of her husband’s clothing in boxes and leaving a note telling him to get out because she thought he wasn’t helping with the baby as much as she’d thought he should be helping with the baybe.

The third time...

Returning home after pizza and a movie with Maxine and Rosalie, she’d found him vomiting into the toilet after drinking— For the first time in their marriage finding him drunk — while at work the following day, Marsha contacted a mover and had all of their furniture moved out then disappeared with their baby for the next three months.

And Mitchell always came back.

Now though?

Thinking…

‘Retribution’?

‘Deserved’ retribution!

Marsha lay staring at the ceiling until a square of light appeared behind the drapes and she heard the awakening sounds of thirteen month old Samuel.

Hating what she had to tell her children. Hating the thought that she and her marriage had become a statistic.

Wearily leaving the bed that had been hers and her husband’s, putting a robe on, Marsha Lipensky went into her baby’s bedroom.

****

Wanting to get to his parents home before his wife’s — he had no doubt hysterical phone call telling them…? God knows what.

Wanting to tell them of Elizabeth himself.

Unwilling to sit at the curb in front of the home of his parents until they awoke. Needing time to pull his thoughts together, Mitchell drove to the A&P in downtown Skokie.

The light sleet gone—now sounding as the staccato rattle of drumsticks on a tin can marble sized hail pounded the top the Lark parked among the cars of the overnight stocking personnel.

Turning the lights and motor off, his mind in turmoil, thinking…

A touch of déjà vu, his mind went to another unbearably depressive rainy day in May of 1957 when, coming home from work he had found that Marsha had packed his clothing into cartons leaving them on the floor in the middle of the living room with that terrible note telling him to “Get out.”

Thinking…

His mind went to yet another terrible day—less than a year later—in April of 1958 when Marsha took his baby and disappeared… Just disappeared!

And no one would tell him where his wife and baby were.

Thinking…

Thinking that even now! Even after five continual years of being together, Mitchell was still at a loss regarding Marsha’s rational for their separations.

Except, of course, for the first separation within the first year of their marriage when he had slapped her. That separation, Mitchell took full responsibility for.

****

The temperature within the car lowering, turning the motor and heat on…

Off…

Then on again.

His mind spinning, spinning, until…

Hail gone. Pouring now, parking as close to the phone booth as possible…

****

At the sink brushing her teeth, Who could that be? Glancing at the Baby Ben on the shelf above the sink—‘6:02’ Thinking, Who’d call now? Spitting the foam in the sink, grabbing a towel, wiping her mouth on the way. “Hello.”

“Elizabeth.”

Never hearing from him this early. “Mitchell?”

“Hi, baby...” speaking softly “...hope I didn’t wake you.”

Noting the unusual tone of voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve, uh…”

“ ‘What’s ‘wrong’?”

“I’m out of the house.”

Not sure she heard right, “What? And what’s that noise?”

“I’m calling from a phone booth in Skokie and it’s pouring like crazy, and I said that I left my house.”

“Of course you wouldn’t call from home.” Becoming slightly annoyed. “And why so early?”

“I told Marsha that I love you.”

Quiet, absorbing what he had said…

“You told your wife ‘that you love me’?” she questioned.

Without saying it came about by accident...

“Yeah, baby…” wiping the foggy side window of the phone booth so he might see outside “...I told her that I love you and she told me to ‘get out’. So I packed a bag and I’m in Skokie, calling from outside the A&P.”

“My God, Mitchie!” Her heart jumping. “Where are you going to stay?” Abruptly realising what she’d said. “Of ‘course’ come here! I’ll make breakfast and we can figure it out.”

Never eating more than a boiled or poached egg on a slice of dry toast and a small glass of orange or grapefruit juice for breakfast, a negative thought passing through her mind regarding life with Mitchell.

“Thanks, baby. But I’m going to talk to my folks after we hang up…

“Look, I’ve a ‘nine thirty’ with Sinclair that I can’t miss so I’ll grab a sweet roll and coffee once I get downtown. But I’d love to see you when I’m done.”

Relieved over the breakfast thing — at least for the time being.

“This is ‘unbelievable’, Mitchie!” Stretching the phone cord, walking to the window, she twisted the blinds open. “You ‘really’ did it!”

Feeling little joy in this, “Yeah...” he said softly, “...I ‘really’ did it.”

Hearing the sadness in his voice. “I love you so much, baby, and can’t wait till we’re together! But your kids? How are they going to take this? How are ‘you’ taking this?”

“Sammy’s too young to realise, and maybe even Ellie because she’s only two and a half, but Mikey’s over five and he’ll take it very badly. But...” rationalising, “...maybe in the long run it’ll be for the best; not having to listen to Marsha and me argue all the time.”

“And ‘you’, baby?” Elizabeth asked again. “How are ‘you’ taking this?”

“This all happened so suddenly that I’m still a little numb. But, Liz, you know how much I love you and how much I’ve… we’ve prayed for a way for us to be together. So I guess now we can.”

Stretching the phone cord in the other direction, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“No guessing about it, mister!” Her hand flat upon her chest, feeling the beating of her heart. “We ‘will’ be together… ‘forever’!”

Elizabeth and me together, forever!

His mood brightening slightly. “With you, Lizzie, ‘forever’ sounds just fine with me!”

“I love you, Mitchie...” her voice catching, “...and can’t wait to say, ‘I do’.”

Can this really be happening?

“Me, too, honey...” he said. “...I can’t wait either.”

Quiet a moment... “Our jobs, Mitch? Think we’ll lose our jobs over this?”

“No, I don’t think so. She said I’ll be needing money, lots of money to support her and the kids so… At least that’s what she said; that she won’t call Transco.”

“That’s good, baby, that’s ‘real’ good!”

“Yeah, it’s going to be real hard, you know, supporting two homes.”

“ ‘Mitch’...” she said emphatically “...I work, too, you know! I’m paying rent here and I’ll keep paying the rent here! And with both of us working money’s not going to be all that much of a problem. Don’t worry, Mitchie we’ll get along just fine!”

“Thanks, Liz. You don’t know how much I appreciate hearing you say that! But you’n’me, we’re going to want our own family one day, and…”

Recalling the arguments with her ex-husband. “Mitch...” she said assertively “...I’m in ‘no’ hurry to have a kid so, please, don’t worry about it!”

In all of their discussions Elizabeth had never mentioned the desire or showed the slightest interest in giving birth to a child of her own—of ‘their’ own.

But now that that mere discussion was in the process of becoming fact? But now that marriage was a forthcoming actuality possibility?

“Know what? It’s starting to snow and I’ve nothing important to do downtown, so I think I’ll hang around home today. So, yeah, when you’re finished with Sinclair, come right here!”

“Thanks, honey.” Opening the accordion door, looking skyward at the heavily falling snow. “I ‘really’ need to be with you today!”

“I know, baby, and I want you with me today… Drive carefully, okay!”

“Yeah, I’ll take the El downtown…. Bye, Liz.”

“Bye, Mitchie.”

****

Having a key but not wanting to walk in on his folks at 6:15 in the morning…

Ringing the bell…

…He heard the clatter of nails and paws on the linoleum floor, then the swishing sound of a long tail along with excited panting and as the door was opened, stopping for a quick perfunctory pet, Cricket ran past Mitchell to urinate in the mounting snow.

Holding her robe closed, glancing skyward at the falling snow then at... “Mitchell...” taken back at seeing her son this early in the morning, “...what are you doing here?”

“Marsha and me...” coming right to the point, “...we’ve broken up.”

“ ‘What’?”

“Marsha and me, we’ve broken up.”

To her son, “I heard you.”

To her husband “Walter...” yelling over her shoulder “...come here!”

His breath coming in plumes. “Okay if I come in, Mom?”

“Of course you can!” Standing aside.

“Come on, Cricket!” Standing aside for the dog also

Still in pyjamas, coming from the bedroom. “Mitchell, what the hell are you doing here?”

“He says his wife and him have broken up.”

Looking from his wife to his son. Said as much of an exclamation as a question, “ ‘Again’!?”

Standing just inside the doorway, brushing snow from his shoulders. “Yeah, Dad, I’m afraid so. Only this time I’m the one leaving.”

“Mitchell...” Myra said crossly. “...take your coat off and tell us what happened!”

Next FBOW excerpt in sequence: “ I’m The Other Woman”