Hi and welcome to Eclectic Everythings! This week’s podcast features a dramatic short story I wrote and a poem I published in my second book of poetry (details at the bottom). I hope you’ll appreciate listening, and I ask you please leave a comment with your feedback at the end. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy until next week.
Robin💫
The body lay face down on the bohemian rug in the study. Blood from the fatal wound at the back of the man’s head seeped onto the carpet. The weapon, a crystal vase from Tiffany’s, lay shattered amongst the blood, reflecting rays of crimson in the early morning sunlight streaming through the bay window. His laptop was also on the floor, smashed into the hardwood floor not far from his body— the monitor a web of cracks and separated from the broken keyboard. But, his desk was spotless; there wasn’t a folder, file, sheet of paper or even a pen anywhere in sight.
The Day Before
Martin Grimes leaned back in his black leather chair and admired his latest acquisition, a crystal vase from Tiffany’s. This vase, his wife convinced him, would look fabulous on the glass coffee table in front of the gray suede sectional near his mahogany desk and he had to admit she was right. It looked regal, with the sunlight reflecting rainbow beams off the bread basket weave pattern.
His cell phone rang, and without checking the display, he answered. “Grimes here.”
It was his wife, Juliet, a socialite who had her own hair and makeup stylists who came to the house daily. She also had a personal shopper who doubled as her dresser.
“Hi, sweetheart. How’s your morning? Do you have time to meet me at the club for lunch?”
“I’m sorry. I have a lunch meeting and then meetings all afternoon. I’ll leave around 2 pm but won’t be home until late tonight. What will you do?”
“The usual,” she drawled, her Southern accent still prominent after more than twenty years of living in Washington. “I’ll have lunch at the club, get a massage, then a manicure and pedicure. If you’re not coming home for dinner, I’ll meet the women from the gala board at that new French restaurant we’ve been dying to try.”
“And what about our daughters?” asked Martin dryly.
“What about them?” Asked Juliet, unconcerned. “Maria can make them dinner, and I’ll be home before they go to bed to say goodnight. No problem.”
“No problem? When was the last time you spent some time with either of our daughters?”
“I took Lucy and Emily shopping last week for back-to-school clothes, and we spent the day bonding.”
“Bonding?” questioned Martin. “Really? That was one afternoon last week. Have you spent any time with them since?”
“Well, I’ve been busy with the upcoming gala at the club, and they’re in school all day.”
“What about nights? Oh, right, I forgot about your nightly ‘club meetings.’ We need to talk tonight when you get home from screwing your hacker boyfriend.”
“Pardon me?”
“You heard me. Prepare yourself, Juliet. I’m divorcing you and asking for full custody because you’re an unfit mother. But we’ll discuss that tonight. Unlike you and your gala preparations, I have real work to do. But, I’ll arrange to be home to have dinner with the girls. You don’t need to join us if you already have plans,” said Martin coldly. He disconnected the call, throwing his cell phone on the sectional.
He reviewed the file the private investigator he hired to catch his wife cheating provided him. There were photos of Juliet and her lover entering and leaving motels, and of them frolicking in the room. Martin also had Juliet’s cell phone records with several calls to the same number highlighted and credit card statements with charges he didn’t recognize circled. There was also a report about Juliet’s latest boy toy, where he lived, and his occupation as an unemployed hacker who had been arrested several times for computer fraud.
Martin had enough evidence for a judge to grant him a divorce from Juliet and full custody of Emily, 15, and Lucy, 12. Juliet didn’t stand a chance against him in court. Conveniently, he was a divorce lawyer but had hired his friend, Gene Rollins as his lawyer, following the first rule of law — never represent yourself.
Gene was ruthless in the courtroom and very popular among the club crowd, more so than Juliet, so Martin felt the situation was in his favor. But there were other things about which he had to worry.
For the fifth time that day, Martin reset the password to his computer, bank accounts, and cell phone, having already installed an additional firewall recommended by the private investigator. Given Juliet’s current lover was a hacker, Martin was taking no chances. He had paid an exorbitant fee for what was supposed to be an impenetrable firewall to be installed on all his electronic devices.
His cell phone rang again. Cursing his cell phone, Martin retrieved it from the couch sectional. The number on display showed his bank. Concerned, he answered.
“Martin Grimes speaking.”
“Mr. Grimes, this is Mary with the Imperial Bank Of Commerce calling with a fraud alert on one of your credit cards.”
“Which card, for how much and where?” he asked.
“There was a cash advance made at one of our branches where you’ve never banked before for $9,990 on your Visa Elite less than an hour ago,” she replied.
“Who withdrew the money?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Juliet Grimes. We’re notifying you because the limit to withdraw without government notification is $10,000. Um, Sir, another alert just came in. She made a second withdrawal of $9,990 minutes ago from a different branch.”
“Freeze all my accounts. Mrs. Grimes is not permitted to withdraw any more money from any of them. Nor is she permitted to use any of our credit cards. I’m the primary account holder on all the accounts and credit cards, and she is to be removed from them all immediately, please.”
“It would be my pleasure to take care of that for you right away, Mr. Grimes. I also suggest you reset your passwords.Let me know if you’d like me to take care of that after I’m done removing Mrs. Grimes from your accounts. Please hold for a moment.”
When she finished removing Juliet from Martin’s accounts, he had her reset the passwords on all his accounts to “Imawhore2023.” Juliet was in for a big surprise when she got her hacker boyfriend to uncover the new password, which she’d enter, humiliated to discover she could no longer withdraw so much as a single penny from any account. He couldn’t help but laugh aloud, imagining Juliet’s shocked expression.
Martin set off for his afternoon meetings with a bounce in his step. He won all his arguments, and a judge ruled in his favor, closing a case so he could make it home just in time for dinner with Emily and Lucy. Juliet was still out.
“Did your mother come home?” he asked as Maria served them dinner.
“I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her since she said goodnight to me last night. You?” Emily looked at her sister, Lucy.
“Nope. I must have been asleep when she came to say goodnight so that means the last time I saw her was the night before,” she said matter-of-factly, shrugging.
Martin realized his daughters didn’t really care if they saw their mother; neither of them had anything resembling a mother-daughter relationship with Juliet.
The front door slammed shut as Juliet stormed into the kitchen, ignoring the girls and focusing her rage on Martin. “You bastard! How dare you! You fucking cut me off from our accounts! I couldn’t pay for my dinner at the restaurant — Maribelle had to pay for me. I was humiliated! Why did you do that to me? You’ve marred my reputation — people are now talking about how sad it was I couldn’t pay for my own meal!” Juliet stopped for air, panting in anger.
“Watch your language in front of the girls. I told you this afternoon I was filing for divorce. However, now is not the time to discuss it. We can talk privately after dinner, or will you be heading out?” he asked coldly.
“I’m going out, but I’ll be home in a couple of hours. We can talk then.” She turned to storm out but noticed her daughters sitting at the dinner table, silently watching her. “Oh, hi, girls. How was your day?” Without waiting for a response, she blew them a kiss, gave Martin a look of pure rage, and, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder, stormed out of the house, the heels of her thigh-high black leather boots like gunshots on the marble floor.
“I’m sorry, girls. I apologize for your mother. That wasn’t how I wanted you to find out we’re divorcing. Let’s talk about it now. Do you have any questions? Is there anything specific you want to know?” Martin looked at his daughters with a combined expression of worry, concern, and kindness.
“I have a question,” said Lucy, the younger daughter.
“What’s that, honey?” asked Martin softly.
“Can I live with you?”
“Me too?” asked Emily.
“If that’s what you want, then that’s what you tell Gene and the judge when they ask you. I would love it if you both lived with me.”
Emily giggled. “Dad, you’re a lawyer, but you hired Uncle Gene to represent you? Why?”
“What is the first rule of law I taught you?” Martin asked.
“Never represent yourself!” said Emily and Lucy in unison, laughing.
Martin laughed with them. “What’s the second rule?”
“Always tell your lawyer the truth, even if you’re guilty,” said Emily, showing her knowledge of the law.
“Keep it up Em, and you’ll be a top-notch lawyer,” Martin encouraged.
“I want to be a divorce lawyer like you, so I can help other unhappy families separate from their toxic spouses,” said Emily.
“Toxic? Where did you learn that word? And I wouldn’t say your mother is toxic. She loves you both very much in her own way. And will likely fight me for custody,” said Martin sadly.
“But if we tell Uncle Gene and the judge we don’t want to live with a mother who’s never home, out busy planning her club events and having affairs with men half her age, they’ll let us live with you, won’t they?” asked Emily.
Martin was shocked by the level of knowledge Emily displayed. “Your statements will certainly have an impact on the judge’s decision. You’re both old enough to decide which parent you want to live with and can provide valid reasons for wanting to live with me and not with your mother. Does that make you feel better?” asked Martin.
“Totally,” said Emily. Lucy echoed her older sister’s sentiment.
“Now go do your homework. If you need help or want to talk, I’ll be in my office, working. Sound good?”
“Totes,” said Lucy, making Emily and Martin laugh.
They left their dishes for Maria to clear and headed their separate ways.
An hour later, Juliet came home drunk and smelling of marijuana. She wobbled into Martin’s office, hands on her hips. “Nice password, asswipe.”
Martin laughed. “I thought you’d appreciate it. I knew your hacker boyfriend would try to access the accounts, so I transferred all the money and changed the password. I figured it wouldn’t take him long to figure out the updated one.”He shook his head sadly. “You’re broke, Juliet. All our money is now in my name in different accounts. You have nothing. I earned it all. You just spent it.” He grinned broadly.
“You mother fucker! You can’t take all the money! How am I supposed to live?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. You’re not my problem anymore. Maybe your boy toy can hack into someone else’s account to steal money and get arrested for computer fraud for you. It’s not like he has a stellar record. He’s a hacker, a con man. I can’t bear to think about how much of my money you spent on him and the other men with whom you had affairs over the years.”
Juliet turned purple with rage. Martin continued his tirade. “Did you think I was stupid enough not to know you’ve been having affairs almost since the beginning of our marriage? Your first was less than a year into our marriage with your ex-boyfriend, Marcus. I know about them all. And don’t try to fight me for custody of the girls.” Martin took the folder with the incriminating evidence he had gathered against Juliet and threw it at her, the documents and pictures drifting to the floor near her feet.
“Look at the photo on your right showing the two of you naked and cavorting in a motel room. Any judge will take one look at this folder of material and not only grant my divorce petition but will also grant me full custody of the girls.”
“You are not taking the money and my daughters away from me!” Juliet shrieked.
“Will you lower your voice, you drunken slut? I don’t want the girls to hear us fighting like this. There’s no need to upset them more than necessary.”
“Drunken slut? Fuck you!”
Juliet advanced towards Martin, the vase she made him buy catching her eye.
“I will not let you do this to me! You can’t take away everything I have!” Juliet’s hand brushed the top of the vase, seductively tracing the edge with her red fingertip.
“Do you think I care? Because I don’t. It’s not your money, and they’re our daughters. I’m done with your shit, Juliet. The house is in my name. Get out and sleep at your boyfriend’s. He can support you from now on. I’m not giving you another dime.” Martin bent down to pick up the papers and photos and put them back in the folder when his world turned black.
This is the first poem of my second collection published. Being kicked out and estranged from my family made me realize if they don’t love me when I’m alive, then they don’t get to mourn me in death.
Forget Me (Do Not Mourn Me)
Do not mourn me for I’m finally at peace.
Do not cry for me when you treated me like dirt when I was alive.
Do not miss me when you made no effort to understand the depths of my pain when I existed.
Do not think of me when you refused to see or speak to me when I needed you most.
Do not remember me when you forgot me while I lived.
Please,
I beg you,
forget me and my existence on this earthly plane.
Forget the good,
of which there was little and
forget the bad of which there was much.
Forget the pain I caused and be happy I’m gone.
Forget me to set yourself free from the burden I was
and of being forced to remember me.
Author of “Inside My Chaotic Mind: A collection of poems about mental illness, relationships and God” and“Dysfunctional Me: A Collection of Poems About Trauma, Grieving and Loss.”
Associate Editor and Social Media Editor: WordSwell Online Literary Journal
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2024© All Rights Reserved. (Robin Christine Honigsberg)
26/5/2024
Deadly Decor