"Hello?" MyUnwife sounds a little out of breath as she gasps into the phone.
I could say something about her smoking, but I was actually expecting her machine; I have another speech memorized. I got her, so she gets, "Hey It's me."
"What's Up?"
"Well I got this thing in the mail." I'm flipping the envelope in my hand.
"What is it?"
I flip back to the front and read, because all this other flipping was just for show. "It's from your doctor."
Now I'm trying not to pry. It's her doctor, and not my business. Any issues that could have been my business passed almost a year ago. Still I am kinda curious. It's hand labeled.
"Why do you have it?"
"She sent it here." Now I figure maybe it's because MyUnwife didn't give a forwarding address, but who knows. I've tried to see this doctor 3 times over the last few years and every time I set an appointment, she's out of the office. Maybe it really is for me. MyUnwife's doctor is sending me anthrax, and daring me to open it.
Yeah, I'll wait for MyUnwife to check it out. I'm not that curious.
As it turns out, it's not anthrax. It's just some information packet MyUnwife requested. I guess since she left me she's been smitten by Biblical plagues. She's now up to the plague of the snotty nose. She'd wanted to know how to handle said plague without drowning friends in phlegm rivers. I tried to be sympathetic.
"heheheheh. I am sooooo sorry."
"It's ok. Oh, I left you a fruit roll up somewhere in the house. I hope you find it before the ants."
I am only kidding. If she has a snotty nose, it has nothing to do with her doctor who won't see me. The letter was something else. And as for ants and fruit roll ups, she wouldn't do that. I hope...
MyUnwife did come by though. She came in, we drank a few beers. She took her letter and went home. Remember that song by Dan Fogelberg about meeting an old lover in a grocery store? This was nothing like that.
She did tell me about the kids. Her/our two cats. I hadn't seen them since her move. One cat was hers before we moved in together, the other, we picked up later. I like keeping up on the little guy because he's not the sharpest claw on the paw. He once got his head stuck in a Kleenex box.
Yeah, I lost "Dad of the year" that year because I was too busy laughing at him scramble backwards banging his head off of everything around like a spastic bell clapper. When my eyes dried and I caught my breath, he'd already resolved the problem. The look in his eye suggested I look before I leap into my shoes the next morning.
She was telling me about the cat's latest exploits. I appreciated it, because I knew I'd never see him again. It's not like I don't get visitation. I mean, even if I did go to MyUnwife's house, he wouldn't see me. See, he's also an odd cat. The only two people who could touch him were MyUnwife and I. And I couldn't do it if I put on a hat. He didn't recognize me. He'd flee the room yowling "Stranger! Stranger!"
It's good to know he won't take candy from weirdoes in cars, but Rob in the cap? So I know I've seen my last of him, because he'll never see me the same way again. I know the same thing will happen with me and MyUnwife too, and it makes me a little sad.
Oh she's smart enough to know that Rob with and without a hat are the same person, but 2010 Rob? He'll be different. So will 2010 MyUnwife. Will I see her and shriek like I've been kicked in the groin? Well, depending on what she does, maybe…
I mean she'll grow. I'll grow. We'll be different. I'll be better and stronger. She'll be fighting the plague of the toe fungus. There's no way around it. It's one of the side effects of divorce: you stop being together. I'm fine. It's been long enough now that I'm ok with things. I like me, and I'm starting to like my life. I just know that some day I'm gonna find a fruit roll up, and I'll smile.
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