Philip Dampier's Blog

Episode 3

Two months later Arvie came home thirty minutes later than his normal time. He keyed the apartment door and stepped inside.

“Hi Honey, I’m home.”

Wanda came from the kitchen into the entryway, wine glass in hand.

“Where have you been; you’re thirty minutes late.”

“I stopped by our bar and had a beer with an old friend.”

“Who was she?”

“Not she, he. He was Wally Johnson. We were in the same fraternity when I was at State.”

“I’ll just bet it was an old fraternity brother. You’re flirting around with another woman, aren’t you?”

“No, Wanda. The only woman in my life is you.”

“Well, your supper is cold. Help yourself. I’m going to the den and finish this bottle of wine.”

“Wanda, please don’t do that. You’re drinking way too much. It’s making you cross.”

Wanda turned around and glared at him while she took a long and slow deliberate swallow of wine.

“You’re a nerd Arvie. Don’t want to have fun and don’t want anyone else to. What in the world did I ever see in you?”

Week by week the tension between Arvie and Wanda grew tighter. Her drinking increased and with it her accusations against him. She began to suggest that he had a mistress or that he was gay. She accused him of not wanting to have sex with her. She laughed when he pointed out that she was drunk almost every night when they went to bed and was in no shape to have sex with anyone.

Within six monthsArvie was thinking about divorce. He tried over and over to reason with Wanda but to no avail. One Saturday before the drinking could grow even worse, he took her for a walk in the small tree-filled park just a few blocks from their apartment. After thirty minutes of strolling, he paused at a green, wooden bench and took a seat. She leaned back next to him and stared at the clouds.

“Wanda?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t go on this way. The way we’re living. Something has to give. Either you stop the drinking, or I’m moving out and getting a place of my own. I’ll file for a divorce; you won’t have to do anything.”

Wanda didn’t move nor did she respond for several minutes. She just kept staring at the sky as if he had never spoken. Finally, she dropped her head and turned it towards him. Tears were in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Arvie. I’ve been a bitch, I know. We need something to hold us together. If I stop drinking, will you agree to stay and let us have a baby?”

Arvie thought it over. He loved Wanda, but he was frustrated. Probably frustrated the most at himself because he had been such a wimp in their marriage and hadn’t taken control as he should have. A small voice was trying to tell him that he didn’t know who he was dealing with. Something was amiss, but he wanted things to be right so much that he squelched any negative thoughts.

“Yes. I would like to do that.”

Wanda eased off the wine and then stopped altogether. Things improved although she still called the shots. Arvie came in from work one Friday with plans for them for the weekend.

“Hey Honey, I’ve got tickets to a concert at the Arena.”

“That’s great news but not the greatest. I have the greatest.”

“Oh, really? I don’t think so. I’ve got tickets to the Rolling Stones concert tomorrow night. Great seats.”

“Oh, really? Well, I’m going to have a baby.”

“Oh, really? That’s wonderful. I’m so excited. Let’s celebrate by going to the Rolling Stones concert.”

He grabbed her and put his arms around her. It was a magical moment, and for a while, it seemed like things were as they were in the beginning. Wanda struggled through the pregnancy with bouts of sickness and depression, but somehow, she managed not to indulge in wine. To help, Arvie removed all that was in the house and made sure none was brought back in. He gave up his trips to the college tavern, willing to forego a beer if it would help Wanda stay sober.

Six months and three days later, Jill was born. She was beautiful, just like her mother. Wanda worked at being a good mother, but it was a struggle for her. She was jealous of the relationship of Arvie and Jill. She was also resentful of the time that Jill required. She was so used to being her own boss, and she hated the demands made on her by an infant and then a small child. Arvie was oblivious to the slow change in her as Jill grew older. He was now in a paradise of his own creation, and Jill furnished the rose-colored lenses he saw his small private world through. A day of reckoning was coming. It was just a matter of time.

They celebrated Jill’s third birthday with a private party. For all of her three years, things had been up and down in her family. Her dad worshipped the ground she walked on, and she had him wrapped around her finger. She loved her mother as well, but things were different with her. The child had quickly discovered that her mother wasn’t wrapped around anyone’s finger. Jill soon learned that no crying or fit throwing or loving persuasion had any effect on her mother. She also was aware that her mother was in charge of her dad as well.