“Now you’re talking. What was that other shit about?”
“Chuck, if the slut wife is spit upon every day from now until Armageddon, how will that make Bob’s life better?”
“Bob will see it isn’t his fault. He will be able to raise his head, again and be a man.”
“Bob doesn’t think his manhood is at issue. He is a smart guy. He sees his kids, who he has spent his entire life sacrificing himself for, unaware of his sacrifice. They think he doesn’t care.”
“We can’t fix everything.”
“Bob didn’t ask for everything. He asked to help him put his life back together.”
“Burn the bitch. He’ll feel better. Let him figure it out.”
“He asked for help figuring it out. That’s what I am going to give him.”
“Good luck with that. The guy is going to find he had bad priorities and has missed too much. He is in for some hard times, and you want to deny him the peace he’ll get from the recognition his wife is the evil one.”
“He asked to make tomorrow better. I know I can do that.”
The staring started, again. He was considering what I said, but he was right in the sense, getting some revenge for yesterday was a much simpler task than helping a guy find the right action to make tomorrow better. More and more I was wondering if I wanted my future to be thru others’ pasts.
++++++
Bridget and I decided to celebrate her freedom from Armstrong Construction. We took the weekend and headed for Aspen. She was beyond excited by her new job. Her first client was, in her words, a pleasant little nerd who didn’t have a clue. He had started a computer repair business, was fixing 15-20 computers a week, for a profit of about $100 per computer. Everyone loved him. He got more business, his turn-around time went from a day or two to a week, or more. He was spending too much time on the phone.
“He was too precious, he said, ‘People are furious with me because I don’t know the status of their job. The stupid fuckers’ — he stopped, blushed and acted like a 10-year-old caught swearing. I told him not to worry and to go on.”
“Typical nerd. The people who pay him, are too stupid.” I laughed as I said it.
She continued, “I decided right then I needed to interrupt him and ask a few questions, like: Has he considered hiring someone to answer phones? I didn’t throw in he could hire someone with actual people skills. He was making around 100k a year as a sole proprietor; did he want more? He could hire people to help with the work — they could just take machines apart and put them back together. He could do the repair.”
She went on for a bit. Insightful stuff. She said the nerd had never thought of any of it. All he knew to do was hunker down and do what he did faster, or longer – extend his hours. He’d found a way to make 15 grand a month, be totally miserable, and never spend a dime because when he was conscious, he was working.
“Can you help him.”
It was a joy to see her eyes light up. “My questions convinced him I could. I got him to pay me 1,000 a week, for one day, during which I would hire him an office manager and a technician. We already have both jobs filled and I am spending my time teaching the three of them how to work together.”
“Eight hours for a grand, that’s…”
“I know, $125 an hour is not enough. But my boss complimented me on it being short-term and resolved in a couple of meetings.”
“I don’t know your boss, but she’s right. Like your nerd, turn-around is more important than almost anything else.”
Aspen was great. The hotel had a bed and a restaurant, our only two requirements. We used both several times a day.
One of our constant topics was divorce as a beginning. Bridget was more an example than I was. She had gone years without truly trying to build a new life. Her husband had stolen nearly a decade from her. Without mentioning him by name, I told her about Bob.
“Why does he think he bears responsibility?”
“He spent all his time working. He let his wife raise the kids, and paid so little attention to her, she could have an affair without his ever discovering it. Now, he is a forty-year-old man, who knows his business and nothing else. He’s only dated one girl.”
“He needs to understand women.”
“Don’t we all!” I laughed and raised an eyebrow, where was she going?
“You said his kids want to be with the new husband. If what you described is accurate, they are being turned against their dad. Wifey stabbed him in the back and has created a story so he looks like the bad guy.”
“How do you know that?”
“I love you! You are so sweet, but you need to learn about women.”
“Present company excluded?”
“Well? I would never betray you, but women see interconnections of things that guys don’t. She has created a whole from pieces of reality — and she knows the whole does not exist. What it does is make her look good and him bad.”
“This is fascinating. You’ve never met either of them and know her?”
“And he is a wimp. He needs to get his head out of his ass.”
I didn’t like that, Chuck called him a wimp. I didn’t think it was a good characterization. “Pardon me, but I disagree. Because he doesn’t want revenge, he’s a wimp?”
She laughed, then covered her mouth. “Excuse me, I shouldn’t laugh. Revenge is a guy thing. He is a wimp because he isn’t standing up for himself. He is like you or me, so devoted to his role in the marriage that even when we get totally screwed over — or screwed on — we still think of our partner as we did.”
“That’s not right! I was furious at my wife.”
“Like I was at — my husband.” She said with air quotes. Trouble was she wasn’t your wife, she was some cheating bitch. He wasn’t my husband, he was a dick hanging out of his pants. Because we saw them as a spouse, we made bad assumptions. We had no idea the extent to which their betrayal went. It’s what we talk about all the time — they take everything from you.”
She was right. I just nodded my head.
“In the case of your friend, he is letting his wife steal his children. I would bet my immortal soul she is doing so with a pack of lies so thin, you could read through it.”
I didn’t have anything to add and just sat, thinking. I wonder how to convey that to him, to give him his wish — to get his life back on track.
Bridget blurted, “I want to meet him, to talk to him. I can fix his problems before they get too bad.”
“What do you mean too bad?”
“That bitch will have him paying for the daughter’s wedding and her new man walking her down the aisle — because her real dad doesn’t care.”
I wanted to say, surely not. I knew better. What I didn’t know was how to introduce her to a guy, who was my secret client — and did not know me. I also knew I couldn’t ask Chuck. He’d tell me Bridget can’t do something for BHA — she is the wrong gender.
“Bridget, this may sound odd, but I don’t know this guy well enough to introduce you. I am sure I can arrange a meeting. Could I ask, when I do, that you don’t mention me?”
“Sure?”
“I made a commitment to keep my relationship with him confidential. I must honor that commitment.”
“And you can’t trust me?”
“You and me, doesn’t come into this. I made a commitment and mean to keep it.”