ripped at the envelope. He held up a single sheet of computer paper toward the light.
Gus,
I’m sorry, but this just isn’t working for me. I don’t want to be married anymore. I’m going to file for divorce. I packed all your things, and they’re on the deck, along with your dog. As you can see, I had the locks changed. I don’t want to see you anymore, so don’t come here, or I will file a restraining order against you. I’m keeping the Porsche to show you I mean business.
The signature was a scrawled large E.
“Son of a bitch!” Wilson howled at the tone of his master’s voice. “And she’s keeping my car! My pride and joy! Next to you, that is, Wilson,” he added hastily. “How the hell am I supposed to take all my stuff in that tin can she calls a car? I damned well do not believe this!”
Wilson’s shrill barking told Gus that he had damned well better believe it.
Gus sat down on the top step and put his arm around the big dog. His wife didn’t want to be married to him anymore. But she wanted his house and his car. Gold digger! So, his grandmother and the aunts had been right all along. His thoughts were all over the map as he tried to figure out exactly how and when it had all gone wrong. There must have been signs. Signs that he’d ignored. How far back? The start of tax season? Before? October, maybe?
Elaine had been looking for a job for over six months, so that would take it back to October. What happened at that time? He racked his brain. Elaine had wanted to go on a cruise, but he’d been too busy to go. She’d pouted for two whole weeks and only gave up when he bought her a diamond bracelet. November was a disaster, and they’d eaten out at Thanksgiving because all Elaine knew how to cook was eggs and pasta. He’d wanted to go to his grandmother’s, but she had refused, so he hadn’t gone, either. A real man would have gone.
Then came Christmas. Elaine said Christmas trees made her sneeze and itch the way Wilson did. So, no Christmas tree. He’d had a hard time with that as he remembered how his grandmother and the aunts went all out for the holidays. Elaine had gladly accepted presents, however. Lots and lots of presents, was what she’d said. And jerk that he was, he had complied.
He had mentally kicked himself and lost weeks of sleep because he’d kowtowed to his wife and not gone to see his grandmother and the aunts for Christmas. Now, right this moment, he felt lower than a snake’s belly. If possible, he’d felt worse on Christmas Day. Here he was, nearly four months later, and he still hadn’t so much as spoken to his grandmother or his aunts. He really did have a lock on stupidity. His shoulders heaved. Wilson was on top of him in a heartbeat. Man’s best friend. Damned straight. Right now, his only best friend.
“I’m thinking I need a lawyer, Wilson,” Gus said, getting up from the steps. He swiped at his eyes. “Real men don’t cry. Bullshit!” he said, swiping at his eyes a second time. Wilson howled his misery as he waited to see what Gus would do.
“Okay, my tail is between my legs, so the only game plan I can see at this point is to pack you up in that tin can, take you to my grandmother’s, and beg her to let us stay there until I can get my head on straight. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll lend me that farm van of hers so I can come back to get our stuff. Let’s go, boy!”
Wilson ran down the steps and over to the yellow Beetle. He scratched at the door, leaving long gashes in the glossy paint. “Chew the damned tires while you’re at it, Wilson!” Gus said as he opened the door. Wilson leaped in and tried to settle himself on the passenger seat, but his legs hung off the seat and actually touched the floor. He barked and howled in outrage.
“It’s just for five miles, so relax. We’ll be there before you know it.”
Wilson threw his head back and let loose with an unholy bark that made the fine hairs on the back of Gus’s neck stand on end.
Gus clenched his teeth. “Yeah, you’re right, Wilson. We’re going to be damned lucky