My plan was to stay out of the house as long as possible that evening (actually a few years seemed like a reasonable amount of time to let Dick simmer down from what he was about to be hit with). Okay, I'm exaggerating a tiny bit. Maybe he would calm down in about a year and we could deal with the situation in a reasonable manner. Who was I kidding. I was dreading facing him and dealing with the fallout which I knew was going to be inevitable. However, the time was rapidly coming to face the music. The song that was going to be played was not my style. How I wished I could find a new melody.
To add insult to injury, my attorney called me on my cell phone in the late afternoon and told me if Dick becomes abusive or out of control after he is served the papers, I should call the police and then call him. Great! With my overactive imagination already kicking into high gear busy giving me sneak previews of the multiple scenarios of what Dick would do or say to me, this gave me a few new options which I hadn't even considered up till that moment.
When Dick came home from work, he informed me that he was taking Marni out to dinner and to look for a new bicycle for her. At that moment, my heart sank and I silently began to wonder why absolutely nothing in my life ever went remotely smoothly or easily. Of all nights, why did he have to pick this one to be out of the house!!! Nonchalantly I asked if he would be home before 8:00 pm? "Why?" he demanded. "No particular reason...just asking," I politely lied, hoping he couldn't see my heart banging against my tee shirt and my legs quivering underneath my capris.
I drove off shortly after they left. When I finally meandered back home around 9:15 pm, after sitting at my local Starbuck's for a few hours slowly drinking a Shaken Iced Tea (which was the perfect beverage to go along with my shaken nerves and trembling limbs) everything seemed quiet. What was going on here? Did the processor come? I went upstairs and Marni was in her bedroom reading a book on her bed. "Hi," I said. "Hi," she answered quietly. "What time did you come home?" I asked her. "About a half hour ago," she answered. "Did you get a new bike?" I continued. "No, we just went to a few different shops and looked around," she replied. I then went into my bedroom. Dick was taking a shower. He didn't seem upset or frazzled in any way. Maybe the processor came and they weren't home, so he wasn't able to deliver the papers. Good,I thought to myself. It seems like I'll get a break tonight and I'll deal with this some other time.
As I started to calm down, my nerves were immediately rattled by an extremely loud banging on our front door. The house literally shook. Marni ran into my bedroom, petrified. To be perfectly honest, I was scared too. She said, "Someone is trying to break into our house. Let's call the police." Realizing that the processor was here now, I bravely stated, " No one is breaking in the house. Tell Dad to see who's at the door." Dick, who was out of the shower at this point, turned to me and said, "You go answer the door." Is this guy for real? It is pitch black outside, the light is burned out on our front porch and my husband wants me to go see who's there. A fight started brewing at this point. We argued back and forth over who should answer the door. In the meantime the banging stopped.
All was quiet for about ten minutes. Then out of nowhere, the banging started up. Again the argument resumed over who should answer the door. After about five minutes, the banging stopped. This cycle continued for about 45 minutes. Finally Dick went downstairs, looked out the family room window, saw no one, opened the garage door and went outside and still no one was there. Once back in the house, the banging resumed. Again Dick looked out the family room window. This time a man was standing there. He looked at Dick and said, "Are you Richard Cohen?"
"Yes," my husband replied. "Your wife, Susie has a summons for you," the stranger continued. At that point Dick turned to me and said, "It's for you." Tenser than a rubber band about to snap apart, I angrily responded, "It's not for me, it's for you. Open the door." Dick didn't budge.
Now the three of us stood in the foyer staring at the door. "OPEN THE DOOR," I yelled at Dick. He refused to move. I repeated this command several times without any cooperation from my husband. But then again, why should he start to do anything I ask at this stage of the game. Finally I walked over to the door, opened it and looked at the tired, elderly man standing in the dark on my front porch. I actually felt sorry for this poor guy who had to make a living putting up with crap like this on a regular basis. He said to me, "Tell Dick to come to the door." I turned around and said, "It's for you." Dick walked up to the door and the processor said, "Dick, Susie wants a divorce. Here's your papers." Then he left.
I was totally dumbfounded. While I had no idea how divorce papers were actually served, I never imagined it would happen like this. And from what I was told afterwards, this was definitely not the typical scenario. Then again, the way things usually go in my life... why should this surprise me?
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