ost of my staff left in the late afternoon, and only cleaning personnel remained in the building, finishing up duties before the Holiday. I came downstairs to make sure the building was secure after they had clocked out, to catch a glimpse of KMC and DF leaving with a bundle of gift-wrapped parcels in hand. It was just after 7PM.
The divorce had been underway for about 2 months and relations with my family had already become a little strained. Observing the horrid behaviour that he had exhibited towards me appeared to signal to my family that it was "open season" to spew out a litany of criticisms that were not founded on fact, or so I believed. I found the whole diatribe most uncomfortable and so had recommended that we not broach the conversation. It was one thing to recognise that his affair was disrespectful, it was another to begin to speculate what ulterior motives he had.
Christmas Day dawned and I was up with the birds wondering what to do with myself. I'd moved to this town at DF's recommendation that it would be a great place to raise a family, but my rigorous schedule, juggling career and marriage had not provided much opportunity to meet people, other than business associates, and demographics being so family oriented there are few outlets to make new acquaintances. Besides that, DF was incredibly jealous of anyone that came to call on me at the office.
Since my office suite was accessed by a private stairwell opening up to the second floor with just a conference room and, through that, my office, I was the only person that inhabited the upper floor of the building. There were times when meeting with male colleagues, that DF would stand at the base of the stairs, if the meeting went on for a while, and conjure up reasons to call or interrupt. He registered his distaste openly and quite childishly. I reassured him that his concerns were totally unfounded; that I had a business to operate and that these meetings were required of my position, but it didn't seem to help. I sensed at first that his irrational fears could perhaps be attributed to a little insecurity brought on by relocating to a new country and being dependent upon me until he secured his working authorisation or having too much idle time, but unfortunately sense of greater purpose and responsibility did not change much.
I spent the holiday at the office, and had agreed to pop in at my family's home for an hour or so later in the evening to retrieve a care package of Christmas Dinner and to drop off the gifts for them. I stayed long enough to exchange gifts, pass a few pleasantries and wish them well and left. It was difficult watching the family relate as if everything was "business as usual". In their effort not to discuss DF's shortcomings, they behaved as if all were here and accounted for. But in my mind, of course, this was not the case.
Upon returning home I found to my surprise that DF had left a message on the answering machine. Braced for the worst I pressed the replay button. A soft, gentle and warm voice, one I had not heard for the past 3 months, but one that had melted my heart when we met some 8 years earlier, sighed briefly and then a little tentatively left the message, "Hi, El, it's me. How are you? I'm calling to wish you a Merry Christmas and I'm thinking of you. I miss you and I want you to know that. I'll see you tomorrow sweetheart".
The divorce had been underway for about 2 months and relations with my family had already become a little strained. Observing the horrid behaviour that he had exhibited towards me appeared to signal to my family that it was "open season" to spew out a litany of criticisms that were not founded on fact, or so I believed. I found the whole diatribe most uncomfortable and so had recommended that we not broach the conversation. It was one thing to recognise that his affair was disrespectful, it was another to begin to speculate what ulterior motives he had.
Christmas Day dawned and I was up with the birds wondering what to do with myself. I'd moved to this town at DF's recommendation that it would be a great place to raise a family, but my rigorous schedule, juggling career and marriage had not provided much opportunity to meet people, other than business associates, and demographics being so family oriented there are few outlets to make new acquaintances. Besides that, DF was incredibly jealous of anyone that came to call on me at the office.
Since my office suite was accessed by a private stairwell opening up to the second floor with just a conference room and, through that, my office, I was the only person that inhabited the upper floor of the building. There were times when meeting with male colleagues, that DF would stand at the base of the stairs, if the meeting went on for a while, and conjure up reasons to call or interrupt. He registered his distaste openly and quite childishly. I reassured him that his concerns were totally unfounded; that I had a business to operate and that these meetings were required of my position, but it didn't seem to help. I sensed at first that his irrational fears could perhaps be attributed to a little insecurity brought on by relocating to a new country and being dependent upon me until he secured his working authorisation or having too much idle time, but unfortunately sense of greater purpose and responsibility did not change much.
I spent the holiday at the office, and had agreed to pop in at my family's home for an hour or so later in the evening to retrieve a care package of Christmas Dinner and to drop off the gifts for them. I stayed long enough to exchange gifts, pass a few pleasantries and wish them well and left. It was difficult watching the family relate as if everything was "business as usual". In their effort not to discuss DF's shortcomings, they behaved as if all were here and accounted for. But in my mind, of course, this was not the case.
Upon returning home I found to my surprise that DF had left a message on the answering machine. Braced for the worst I pressed the replay button. A soft, gentle and warm voice, one I had not heard for the past 3 months, but one that had melted my heart when we met some 8 years earlier, sighed briefly and then a little tentatively left the message, "Hi, El, it's me. How are you? I'm calling to wish you a Merry Christmas and I'm thinking of you. I miss you and I want you to know that. I'll see you tomorrow sweetheart".
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