Beginning After the End

By Shirley Nowinski Senior Staff Writer

Photo by Niklas Weiss on Unsplash

It was early evening, and my husband Paul had invited some of his work friends over for coffee and cake. Before they arrived, he went out to pick up the cake. I was not sure he would come back. In the past six months he had been acting very strange; leaving the house earlier than usual, coming home and immediately going out again, insisting on us all going out to dinner and then when we were all ready telling us to wait because he had to run a quick errand and then not coming back until the kids were in bed. One night he turned all the living room furniture upside down for no reason.

The three friends came, and as we were waiting for his return one of them commented how calm I seemed. I thought they were talking about parenting a 6-year-old and a baby while starting a full time job. They weren’t! That was how I found out Paul had lost his job two months earlier, and we had one week left to vacate our three-bedroom house so the new Estate Manager could move in. As shocked as I felt, they were mortified. No one had thought to say anything to me because they couldn’t imagine he would not have told me. They left apologizing and feeling awkward (although I told them all how grateful I was that they had come).

At their suggestion, I called his boss, Mrs. R who confirmed what they had told me. I explained that I did not know and asked if I could have more time to move. She said she was very sorry, but she had given Paul an extra month already, and the new people needed to move in.

Mrs. R had always been exceptionally kind to all of us. When we had car issues and were going to take an auto loan, she gave us a personal loan with no interest charges. When my son was born, she moved us from the two-bedroom Manager’s cottage to the large house on her property that she had been renting out. She would often call and ask if she could pick my daughter up at the school bus stop, and they both enjoyed riding in her golf cart around the streets of Belle Haven.

With a week to do the impossible, I began with the necessary. I called my parents in Florida and took my mother up on her offer to come help. I didn’t know where I was going to or how, but I had to believe my kids, my dog and my cat were going to be okay. Paul came home after midnight and said he had found a room rental for himself, and his brothers would help him pack up the house. It was obvious he had invited his work friends knowing they would tell me what he had kept secret. He said that he expected I would take the kids and move to Florida, and my parents would support us. I was angry that he would think my parents would be responsible for our support; and that he would expect me to give up the great job I had just started,take my daughter away from her school and friends, and go to a place I did not even like so he could pretend I took the kids and left him. I told him I intended to look for an apartment downtown and stay in Greenwich if I could. He seemed surprised, and said he would help me find a place.

My new employer offered to give me whatever time off I needed to do whatever I had to. I saw several strange apartments; one had a closet that they advertised as a third bedroom, one would accept a dog but not kids, one was okay with the cat and kids but not the dog. Finally I found an apartment downtown above a new bakery shop. It had a large kitchen, a private bedroom, and a long room that could be split into different areas. It was perfect, a short walk to school, work, food stores, parks and transportation. The problem was the owner was showing it but had

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not wanted to rent it yet. I was running out of time and desperate to find a suitable place. I called him again and offered to do the bakery bookkeeping in addition to paying the rent. He said he would think about it and call me back. After an eternal 20 minutes, he called. I could have the apartment and if he hired me later to do the bookkeeping he would pay me for it. Now I had a place to go! Paul’s brothers came and moved what would fit into the apartment. I don’t know what they did with the rest of our things. Looking back, I was somewhat naive and didn’t realize until later that he was an alcoholic and much of his crazy behavior (including the behavior that got him fired) was multiplied by his drinking. It wasn’t his only issue because even when he stopped (after a court ordered rehab) he became a “dry drunk” (someone who has stopped drinking but still refuses to accept responsibility for their actions, constantly lies, and blames others for their problems).

Yet the best thing my husband ever did was to walk out on us. I would not have left him, and I couldn’t imagine that I would be able to support the kids without him. My mother stayed long enough to find a sliding scale daycare program for my son, and then went back to Florida. I dropped my son off at daycare and my daughter at school on my way to work; my daughter was able to walk to the daycare program after school, and I picked them both up after work each day. Finances were tough, but I was good at my job and I stretched every cent.

Suddenly I was free; I could do and plan whatever I wanted. We spent time enjoying the local parks, museums, and libraries. My income rose and the kids thrived. We came home to a pleasant apartment that always smelled of freshly baked pastries, and often my wonderful landlord would give the kids a bakery treat. We took inexpensive day trips to New York City, and Long Island. I was able to plan weekend trips to places I wanted them to see. We went to Philadelphia and Washington DC, and later Disney World and Virginia. Life is good, and possibilities are outstanding!

“Suddenly I was free; I could do and plan whatever I wanted.”