STOLEN LOVE

ENGAGING WITH THE HARRISONS

George’s sons, Dylan and Curt, had recently graduated from high school and were slated to start at State in the fall. Thankfully, all three of the Harrison kids had prepaid tuition accounts set up when they were infants.

The boys weren’t identical twins, but they both shared a resemblance with George somehow.

When George finally broke his silence, he was all business.

“Take your bag down to Mike’s old room in the basement, then come back up. I’m going to change and I’ll be right back."

"Please, come with me,” he orchestrated.

I nodded and opened the door leading down to his partially finished basement. Mike’s room was a small bedroom with a single bed right past the laundry room and mechanicals.

Mike was George's oldest child. He was a sophomore at state, and he was currently involved in some sort of soccer training camp run by the college. He wasn’t slated to return home for another three weeks. I threw my bag onto the bed and headed back upstairs with the paperwork from the process server. The Xanax had kicked in by then, and now, I was unnaturally calm and detached.

I was sitting at the small four-seat table in the kitchen’s breakfast nook with the contents of the envelopes spread out in front of me when George dropped into the chair to my right. He had changed out of the shirt and trousers he wore at work, into a pair of boxers. His broad chest was revealed. It looked so smooth and fresh, revealing the extent to which he was fair- complexioned. He had a perfectly built body.

He was handsome. His fairness was almost pale white. His unfathomable, golden brown eyes contrasted exceptionally with his light-toned face. He was not extremely muscular, with 8-pack abs or 16 cm biceps. I tried not to look in the direction of his boxers for too long. I took a glance and noticed that it was exceptionally short and tightly fitted. George was very attractive and a man to be over forty and the father of three boys.

“Any hints in there?” he asked, pointing to the spread-out papers.

I shook my head.

“He says irreconcilable differences.”

George nodded in understanding and then asked another question.

“How about the restraining order, why does he think he needs that?”

“That? His excuse does not seem to make any real sense. It's just obvious he doesn't want to give room for any reconciliation. He says my emotions could lead me to act funny sometimes and maybe dangerous."

George snorted derisively.

“Bullshit! You are the most easygoing lady I know.” I shrugged noncommittally and passed him the section that enumerated the financial settlement Martinez was proposing.

He studied the documents for a few minutes then c****d his eyes up at me.

“WOW! You can tell he has a good lawyer. These financials I'm seeing are incredibly complete and the account balances on what you owe are current to the close of business yesterday.”

“Read on,” I said.

He flipped to the next page and started reading. Then gasped and looked back up at me.

“He wants to take all his properties. How can he get away with that?”

I sighed and thought back to how I’d titled the house and incorporated my recent business.

“Both our names are on the loan but he is the only name on the deed. When I incorporated M&S, I listed him as a co-owner. I never imagined something like this, and I wanted to show him how important he was to me.”

Further conversation was tabled when Dylan and Curt bounced into the room to announce they were going to order pizza and go pick it up. I wasn’t hungry, but I pulled out a couple of twenties and waved them towards the twins.

“Buy two, make one of them a meat lover’s with jalapeño and it’s my treat,” I said.

Dylan plucked the money out of my hand while Curt was speed-dialling Pizza Hut on his cell phone. Once the pizza was ordered, both boys hugged me and their father and scampered out the door.

Forty minutes later, I was listlessly picking at my pizza as the two Harrison boys did their best to divert me from my troubles. Dylan and Curtis were especially talkative as they quizzed me on the law curriculum at the state. Both boys were geniuses and were leaning towards a degree in law or journalism.

I thought they’d be better off with a law degree; but then again, I guessed that I might be slightly prejudiced. I finally promised them that I’d hook them up with my sister Joyce to get the other side of the story as well.

Mentioning my sister made me think that I’d have to tell my family about Martinez and me. I cringed at the thought because I knew along with telling them, I’d probably also have to ask to move back home temporarily until I found another place.

At the age of thirty, I was moving back in with mommy and daddy. How f*****g sad was that?

After a fitful night of more tossing and turning than sleep, Dylan Harrison drove me back to the office Saturday morning so I could collect my truck. Before I hopped into the cab, Dylan surprised me with a tight lingering hug.

“Dad was right, that male dog is crazy for letting you go,” I heard him mutter as he walked back to his car.

I sucked it up, drove straight to my parent’s house and told them the whole sad story. They were appropriately sympathetic and once again volunteered their basement. Dad even went with me to pick up some of my stuff from the main store on Seventh Street.

I gave a surprised grunt when I opened the storage unit and saw the neatly labelled and professionally packed boxes stacked inside the ten-by-eleven-foot room. There was even a manifest, listing every item in every box that someone had taped to the inside of the door.

As with everything, Martinez had been thoroughly efficient in exorcising me from his life. Finally, I took the manifest, a large garment box of work clothes, and a much smaller box that was labelled as containing my laptop and backup hard drive. The rest I left to go through at a later date.

When we made it back to the house, Joyce, my sister, was there with Mom. To her eternal credit, my sister wasn’t there to gloat. Instead, she hugged me tight and told me how sorry she was for what I was going through.