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

“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!”

Skokie, Illinois

November 14, 1963

Removing his coat, draping it over the back of a straight back chair…

“You planning on moving in here again?” Walter asked irritably.

“Dad, this all happened at four this morning and I haven’t really had time to figure what I’m going to do.”

“You and your wife…”

****

Though the two women had learned to live within what might be termed as an armed truce, even after eight years of marriage, Marsha’s refusal to address her mother and father-in-law by title or name was still as a bone sticking in the throat of Myra. And as Marsha refused to address them—so what else is new—Myra also refused to address her daughter-in-law.

Who actually thought her mother-in-law’s bumbling effort not to use Marsha’s name was funny and truly did not give a damn.

****

“You and your wife had another fight, huh?” Myra asked.

“It’s a little more than…”

“Coffee’s made...” Myra said. “...go, sit!”

“Mitchie, hi!”

Both still in pyjamas, the boys had come downstairs.

“What are you doing here so early?”

“Hi, Larry, Mortie. I’ve got to talk to mom and dad.”

“You and Marsha mad at each other again?” Morton asked.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Can we listen?”

“No, I don’t think so. Right now I’d rather just talk to mom and dad. ‘Okay’!”

“Don’t got to get ticked of!” Lawrence said. “We got to get ready for school anyway.”

Walter and Myra at their usual places.

His lips tightly compressed. Looking down while absently running his finger around the rim of the cup before him, Mitchell sat at the far end of the kitchen table.

Watching his son… “So?” Walter asked. “Your wife told you to get out again?”

“No. Not exactly… Yeah.” Still gazing downward, thinking, May as well get it out. “I’ve had a, uh… I’ve got a girlfriend.”

Digesting this. Both quiet for a long moment.

“A girlfriend?” Myra asked incredulously. “You’ve got a ‘girlfriend’?”

“What do you mean, ‘you’ve got a girlfriend’?”

“Dad...” looking from his father to his mother, “...I’ve been seeing another woman.”

Shocked at the revelation.“Who?” his mother asked.

No less shocked. “How long?” his father asked.

Well aware of their lack of feelings for Marsha, however a bit surprised at his parents somewhat calm acceptance of this somewhat apocalyptic revelation. “I met Elizabeth…”

“Her name’s ‘Elizabeth’?”

“Yes, Mom. She started at Transco about a week after me.”

“When you started at Transco? You’ve been seeing this girl all this time?”

“No, Dad! We lived in Peoria for two and a half years, remember?”

“So when…”

“Elizabeth and me…” How to say it without making Elizabeth appear as a bad person and a home wrecker? “Elizabeth and me, our territories kind of butt up to each others and we went to lunch together last February and one…”

Interrupting. “You and her...” Myra asked, “...you and this Elizabeth have been seeing each other...” thinking a moment, ticking months off on her fingers… “...for nine months? She’s not…”

Catching her thought,.“ ‘No’. Mom’, she’s not pregnant!”

Glancing skyward, “Thank God!”

“Anyway, we went to lunch together and one thing led to another…” Looking from his mother to his father and back to his mother. “She loves me, Mom, ‘really ‘loves me,” he said emotively. “Elizabeth says she’s loved me ever since she met me when we worked in the office… And I love her, too!”

“She knew you were married?”

“Yes. That’s why nothing happened all the time before February. But then, when we began having lunch together we started talking and…”

“This Elizabeth, she married?”

“No, Dad.” Omitting that at that time she had been. “Elizabeth’s not married.”

Walter sipping at his coffee.

Mitchell gazing downward, at the dark fluid within his cup.

Myra’s eyes upon her son.

The three sat silently, until…

“To tell the truth, my son, I have no idea how you lived with your wife as long as you have! But are you sure of this, Mitchell? A divorce with three children? You’re going to have to support them and your wife, too, you know, and…” looking at Walter, “...yourself, too.”

“Yeah, Mom, I know.” Taking a sip of coffee, placing the cup onto the table. “But Marsha and me…” Looking up, looking from his mother to his father. “She… Marsha really doesn’t like me. As a matter of fact, she’s told me that she hates me more than once and I, uh, I don’t like her too much either. And now I have this wonderful, unbelievably beautiful woman that

‘does’ love me, that I ‘know’ loves me and that I…”

“Yes! Fine and good! But I remember how miserable you were last time, when your wife decided to run away with your son and not let you know where they were. And you and your wife had only Michael then, but now, with ‘three’? Are you going to be okay; not to live with your children?”

Feeling a catch in his throat and a stinging behind his eyes, digesting this question, ‘not to live with your children’.

He’d asked himself the same question a thousand times over the past nine months.

“I know it’ll be hard, Mom. Really hard!” Rationalising, “But I’ll be able to see them, to be with them on weekends.”

“You’ll bring them here, then?”

“Sure, Dad! The kids love you and mom and always want to see you! So of ‘course’ I’ll bring them here!”

Quiet a moment. “What I am sure of is that I can’t live with Marsha anymore and that I love and want to be with Elizabeth.”

“ ‘Money’, Mitchell! Are you going to be able to live on your own and support your family?”

“Elizabeth makes a wonderful living—actually much more than me. She said she loves me and wants us to be married, and that she’ll help out with money and that things’l work themselves out.”

“You left your home two hours ago and already you’re talking about marrying again, so soon?”

“Dad, yeah! When the time’s right, I can’t wait to marry Elizabeth.”

Glad, at least, that her son planned on marrying and not ‘living in sin’.

Well, my son...” Myra said, “...you know I haven’t cared for your wife from since before you were married and that we, your father and me, we were always here for you when she, your wife, decided she didn’t want to be married to you so we’ll…” looking from Mitchell to her husband, “…be here for you now.”

“So when do we get to meet this Elizabeth?”

“Soon, Dad.” Thinking, Can’t wait to see the look on his face when he meets her.

“Mitchell, your Elizabeth, she a Jewish girl?”

“Yeah, Mom. Her last name’s ‘Herzon’ and she’s a, uh, Scandinavian Jew.”

“A ‘Scandinavian’ Jew? Never thought of many Jews coming from Scandinavia,”Myra said.

Once again feeling a sense of déjà vu. “Sure! Don’t you remember what the king of Denmark did when the Nazis made Jews wear Stars of David on their coats?”

“Yes, okay, we remember, Mitchell.”

“Wait till you meet her, Dad. Elizabeth’s beautiful! She’s a natural blonde and she’s absolutely beautiful! And she’s a ‘really’ nice lady.”

****

There was so much more he wanted to tell them about Elizabeth, but that would have meant dragging Marsha into the conversation and at this time there was a deep sense of guilt, and loss for all he’d had and for all he knew he was going to lose that hung over his head as a dark cloud. And…

****

Glancing at his watch. Oh, God, he thought, Mikie and Ellie are up now listening to why their ‘daddy’ isn't home.

To cover the range of emotions that he knew ‘must’ be evident, bringing the cup to his mouth he took two small sips of coffee in effort to bring himself under control.

“Mitchell...”Myra said “...she went with you, a married man with children, so I don’t know how nice a lady she can be.”

“When you meet her, Mom, you’ll see.”

Yet he and Elizabeth had never been in mixed social company and Transco sales meetings could not be considered as ‘social’.

“I’m…” glancing at his wife, “we’re looking forward to meeting her, but for now, where do you plan on staying?” Walter asked.

“Like I told you, Dad, I haven’t really figured it all out. I’ve an important customer to see at nine thirty, then I’m going to Elizabeth’s and we’re going to talk about it.”

“You’re ‘not’ planning on living with Elizabeth ‘now’, are you, Mitchell?

“Like I said, Mom…”

“Don’t even ‘think’ about living with her now! It’s not right; people that aren’t married living together.” Looking at her husband, then back to her son. “You’ll stay here!”

Grumply, “Temporarily.” Walter said.

Not wanting to spring too much on Elizabeth too soon. Feeling a sense of relief. “Thank you!” he said sincerely. “Thank you!”

“As a matter of fact, it would probably be for the best if we don’t meet Elizabeth till after you’ve seen a lawyer and get a, uh…”

“Legal separation,” Walter interjected.

So long as he paid the bills and made sure Marsha had enough money— which he planned on doing; depending on ‘if’ and ‘how’ Marsha reacts, a ‘legal separation’ could take months and Mitchell knew with out a doubt he’d be bringing Elizabeth around to meet his family long before the legal ‘legal separation’.

“You want me to call Don Hoffman for you?” Walter asked.

Elizabeth’s divorce having gone through so easily.

“No, Dad. Elizabeth has a close friend that’s a divorce attorney and I think I’d like to use him.”

“What have you with you now?”

“Just one suitcase. I’m going home, uh, to Des Plaines on Saturday to see the kids and get more of my stuff.”

“As long as you’re staying, you may as well bring it in.”

“Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate this.”

“Yeah,” Walter said tiredly. “I know.”

“You say you’ve got to go downtown, then you’re going to see your, uh, Elizabeth.”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“You’ll be home for dinner?”

Becoming anxious to leave.

“I’ll call to let you know, Mom.”

Another of those exclamation/questions: “You’ll sleep here tonight!?”

Sleeping with Elizabeth, spending a full night with Elizabeth at his side an heretofore unfulfilled dream.

“I’ll let you know when I call, Mom, and do me a favour, will you?”

“What’s that?” Walter asked.

“Don’t say anything to anyone about this yet, please.”

The Other Woman…

In the shower,…

I’m ‘the other woman’!

Warm water cascading over her body, thoughts bombarding her mind.

I’m the other woman now! Before, when it was only Mitchell and me and nobody knew about us, I never thought of myself as ‘the other woman’.

But now his wife knows and his parents know and I’m sure by the end of today everyone that knows him and Marsha will know that I’m the terrible ‘other woman’ and if she’s as vicious as I think she is, who knows how far she’ll take this.

Knowing her life was about to drastically change: On the one hand, the unbelievable having happened! Truly amazed that after five years of loving, of desiring and dreaming of spending her life with Mitchell as husband and wife, the dream was now in the process of becoming true .

On the other hand, though, realism setting in; distressed at the thought of herself as ‘the other woman’, as a ‘home wrecker’. as the woman responsible for the breakup of a family with three young children.

Also, the financial obligation she’d committed to: ‘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’ Elizabeth recalled saying. We’ll get along just fine!”

Further thinking, For how long? If Marsha ever marries the alimony will end…If she ever remarries! But even so, there’s three kids to support for eighteen years… Forever!

Out of the shower. Standing nude before the mirror brushing her hair.

Seeing—although ‘much’ worse in the remembrance of her past image. ‘Much’ worse in the eye of her imagination then in actual sight—seeing...

Whenever nude, Elizabeth would look disgustedly at the droop of her breasts, at the width of her hips and buttocks, at the translucent stretch marks that crossed her stomach, breasts and thighs, that Mitchell, truthfully, said he never cared about or actually no longer noticed.

However always seeing herself as a fat girl, Elizabeth, ‘very’ mistakenly, did not believe that Mitchell never cared about, or no longer noticed her—in her exaggerated opinion—ugly stretch marks.

Nor did Elizabeth believe that the sight of her ‘fat girl’ body was, as Mitchell had repeatedly told her, the body he’d dreamt of making love to his whole life!

Indeed, if his physical reaction to her nude body was testament to the truth of his statement, if an instantaneous erection was proof of his words, to Elizabeth’s amazement, Mitchell Lipensky, the man she loved with all of her heart, did, truly, love the sight of her, in her imagination ‘fat girl’ body.

A further problem with living with Mitchell was that he liked to eat, at least as a normal person liked to eat and Elizabeth was terrified of living with a person that liked to rat, at least as a normal person liked to eat.

Living with her ‘exercise nut’ ex husband who watched for every additional ounce that might appear upon the body of his wife, it had not been all that hard keeping her unnatural diet of a boiled or poached egg along with a slice of dry toast and a small glass of orange or grapefruit juice for breakfast, an apple or pear for lunch and broiled or baked chicken or fish for dinner.

How long could Mitchell Lipensky live on love alone?

Next FBOW excerpt in sequence: On Love Alone