0800, pressed-dressed-ready to impress, he finds out it is Lisa. He immediately gets an attorney, and the war begins. We get the formal statement(s) from him and wow, it seems a few people had some things to say. Some good, some bad. The “bad” were her close friends. The good, uninterested or neutral parties.
This is not my first rodeo with attorneys, or this kind of situation….unfortunately. Again, another time, folks. I was always raised with a “legal like” mind. Investigator at heart. So, I start to pick the statements apart. Finding discrepancies. Inconsistencies. Flat out provable lies. You get what I’m saying. This investigation takes place well into the end of 2005, runs into the very beginning of 2006.
During this time, our behind closed doors life starts to take a tumble. He’s showing signs of severe alcoholism. Getting aggressive. Paranoid. And flat out honestly….becoming a real giant big flaming pile of asshole.
His “game face,” the one everyone gets to see except me and “Mark,” is infallible. No one knows the monster that lurks within our walls, or his mind. His son watches this every day, progressively getting worse. His son begins to gain Daddy’s verbal habits toward me.
This was my daily routine:
Up at 0600 to get “Mark” ready for school. Make sure a fresh, never been used, towel in bathroom for him. Gather his daily clothes, what he will wear. No, he is not slow or challenged in the way you are thinking. He is a fully functioning 13 (almost 14) year old male. However, he has quirks. Each towel must be freshly washed. His clothes must be picked out in advance, or he will take forever making a decision as what to wear. In addition, any clothes that even get remotely put on his body are now “dirty” and must be re-washed. Now all of this is contingent that I even succeed in rousing him from bed. Heavy sleeper, stubborn as hell, gets away with anything his heart wanted. As per Daddy’s orders. If he didn’t want to get up, he didn’t go to school. Any punishment I tried to impose (no tv or taking away computer or XBox) was rescinded within 1 hour of implementation.
Start coffee, make “Mark’s” lunch.
Starch, iron and press “John’s” uniform. Shine his work boots. Retrieve underwear, undershirt, and socks for the day.
0645, wake “John” for shower and work.
Start the daily cleaning. Dishes were not to be done the night before. He did not want them sitting overnight in the dishwasher. So, do the dishes and clean kitchen from my cooking night before. Get him a cup of coffee.
0730 See him off to work. Start laundry, sweep floors, take out trash. Mop. Entire house. There was no carpeting. Only linoleum and hardwood.
1200 Get ready for work.
100-600 or 800, work. Come home and immediately cook dinner.
John home by 3pm, pours a beer into a solo cup “so his son doesn’t know he’s drinking.” Right, no one can see the 12-18 beer cans a day in the trash??
If not a work nite, dinner served by 7pm.
Serve dinner to “Mark”, separate plates and utensils. He was a separator in the fullest form. Not only could no food be touching. It had to be served on separate plates. Wouldn’t use same fork/spoon for food. Each must have their own. And flavor? Forget it. If the food had flavor, he wouldn’t eat it. Unless steak. NO SEASONING, only A-1 sauce.
Serve “John” his dinner, and usually his #? beer by this point.
Sit and eat. After everyone completes, pick up their dishes. What I can find. Sometimes “Mark” would somehow “misplace” a plate or two.
Rinse dishes. Watch tv.
Whenever everyone was ready, off to bed.
Lay in bed, wait for “John” to fall asleep, get up. Me time. Play some poker online, check my email. Unwind, relax.
Rinse, lather, wish I hadn’t repeated.