If a guy told you his grown children have refused to speak
to him for 20 years, or that the wife he divorced was as silent as their kids,
wouldn't your first question be: Another
woman?
No? Then, obviously you are not as nosy as I, or not the
investigator-reporter type.
My query occurred during a JDate phone conversation. (I
realize that on these pages I claimed I was dropping the Jewish online dating
site, but I decided to give it one more month.) He -- let's now call him by a
new screen name, Offended2013, had given me his phone number and recommended
that I block my own cell number. This was a point in his favor, I thought, a
gentlemen.
According to my iPhone, we talked for 58 minutes. During
that time I learned we had some things in common: we both lived in the city,
were around the same age (he claimed 71; I fudged 70), we enjoyed plays, and
had Spain and Greece on our travel wish list.
Our differences -- he was not a TV addict like I am, he liked being out
frequently in the evenings -- might've been possible for me to overcome.
Before our conversation ended, we made plans to meet for
coffee. But the following morning, I received this message from Offended2013, i
am cancelling our meeting wed . i really was hurt and offended by your quick
remark about my devorce having to do with another woman .i felt you were out of
line. that was not the case . i just didnt appreciate it . that is far from the
type of person i am .
"I
apologize," I wrote in a message back to him. "It's your call. Good
luck with your search." But he blocked any further correspondence from me,
so my attempt to backpedal is floating somewhere in cyberspace.
Daughter
Faith (yes, I had to share), responded, "I am offended he does not know
how to spell divorce." From her sister, Jill, "The
atrocious spelling is enough for you to block him forever."
Perhaps
it was wrong of me to jump to the conclusion I conjured, but I speak from
experience; my first husband of 30 years left me for another woman. Our clichéd
drama began when I noticed he was looking exceptionally fit and well dressed.
"I think he's having an affair," I said to my best friend, Judy.
"Don't
ask him if he's having an affair," she said. "Just say, I know you're
having an affair."
I'll
never forget that 1990 prophetic conversation, which was held during one of our
regular Saturday lunches at the Bon Ton restaurant on Chicago's Gold Coast. As
Judy and I munched our poached chicken sandwiches, we kept our voices low
because adjacent diners seemed to be leaning our way.
A few
days after my friend's counsel, I put the phrase to use. I had been asleep in
our king-sized bed when the phone rang. Because my husband's profession often
brought emergency requests, I knew the call would be for him. "The phone's
ringing," I said, as I rolled over to rouse him. But, there was an empty
space where he usually slept.
I went
downstairs, dumped myself on the couch, and waited. "What are you doing
up?" he asked as he entered through the back door. He appeared to be
playing a soap opera part. If he hadn't spotted me, he surely would've been
toting his Oxfords and tiptoeing in on stocking feet.
Then
came my line, "I know you're having an affair."
"How
did you know?"
"Your
new clothes, your slimmer body, your indifference to me and the kids."
He sunk
down next to me on the couch. We both cried. (What can I say? I'm not the
pottery slinging type and I held some responsibility for a marriage gone sour.)
"Will you come with to a marriage counselor?" I asked.
We had
one session. The morning after, he descended the stairs with a gym bag in his
hand. "I'm checking into a hotel; I'll call you later." He was glum;
I was, I must admit, relieved, and grateful to the other woman for handing him
the bad guy role and me the sympathetic character.
Fortunately,
in our intervening 23 years, my ex and I have remained good friends. He is my
emergency contact and I am his companion for doctor visits.
So,
with this history, I stand firm in defense of my question. Now I think Offended2013
doth protest too much. If not another woman, what then?