Three is a crowd: Diane will not say ‘die’, just yet

(Continued from last issue)

David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.

DIANE

I arrived at the hospital at exactly ten, and as I waited to see the doctor, I mentally practiced what I was going to say, but did not have long to rehearse, as I was called in only a few minutes later.

In his usual professional manner, he remarked on how well I looked, how good it was to see me walking on my own, and then asked about the chest pain I had complained about when I called. The charade had gone on long enough; it was time to reveal the real reason I was there.

“My chest is fine,” I confessed quietly.
“Pardon?” he asked, his face creasing in confusion.
“Do you know where your girlfriend was this weekend?”

“What?”
“Do you know where your girlfriend was this weekend?” I repeated coolly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mix my personal and professional lives. You are my patient, and I’m not prepared to discuss anything other than your health with you,” he answered evenly, though I could see I had caught him off-guard and ruffled him.

“When I was first admitted, I wondered why there was always a palpable tension between you and my husband, but then it came to me – you’re sharing the same woman. No wonder it was so awkward!” I went on like I had not heard a word he had said about boundaries.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied icily.
“Your girlfriend spent the weekend with my husband; did you know that?” I asked, almost tauntingly.
“She’s not my girlfriend!” he shot back, and for a second, I was the one caught off-guard. If David’s whore was no longer with the doctor, that jeopardized my entire plan.

“How come? Did you fail to measure up to the competition?” I asked cruelly. If he was anything like David, attacking his manhood would put the fight back in him.

“Like I said, I don’t mix my personal and professional lives; if you have a problem with your husband, I suggest you take it up with him, not me. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have patients to see,” he answered icily, and stood up.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with my husband if it weren’t for your girlfriend, and you probably wouldn’t have a problem with her, if it weren’t for him. All I’m saying is that maybe we can help each other.”
“This is neither the place, nor the time, for this. I have patients to see,” he repeated, then opened the door.

Since I could not continue to push in full view of his patients, I left, but did not consider the meeting a total failure. I had seen in his eyes that I had hit a nerve, and I was sure I would hear from him before too long.

JULIE

Returning to the apartment after the weekend away with David was a bag of mixed emotions; I was sad that the weekend had come to an end, but happy that I was returning more secure in my relationship and future with David than I had been before I left.

It was obvious he and his wife were having problems, but for the first time in a long time, I was confident that whatever those problems were, they would have no impact on his relationship with me, or more importantly – with Junior.

As for Sandra, the moodiness she had exhibited before I left still lingered; she was helping me unpack my bag, when she saw the outfits David had bought Junior and me.

“These are nice; are they new?” She asked casually.
“Yes; David bought them. I tried to stop him, but he insisted,” I smiled softly.

“How generous of him; did he get anything for Mummy too? Or does his generosity only extend to you and Junior?”

For a moment I just stared at her, shocked at her candour, and the almost biting edge to her tone.

“I think he has done enough for Mummy and the rest of my family to not be judged for not buying them gifts on a weekend break with Junior and me,” I finally answered.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you Sandra, but whatever it is, you better get it under control, for it’s starting to get on my nerves. In case it had slipped your mind, I no longer work, so it’s David who is supporting all of us – you inclusive, and I think it’s about time you showed a bit of gratitude – and respect – for that.”

“I know it’s David supporting us, and I’m sorry you don’t think I’m grateful, because I am. I thought I was showing my gratitude by being here to help you with Junior and whatever else you ask of me, but if that means nothing to you, then maybe I should go back home.”

I did not have the patience to deal with her adolescent dramatics just then.

“Do whatever you please Sandra; you’re not a prisoner or a slave here,” I answered wearily.

She did not respond, and getting up, marched out of my room, slamming the door behind her, and startling Junior who immediately let out a loud cry. Sighing, I got up to soothe him.

DAVID

I got back to the house just before six that evening with a slight sense of apprehension at what awaited me from Diane, coupled with a determination that no matter what she threw at me, I would stand my ground as the man of the house.

I might have messed up by lying to her about the ‘work retreat’ and going off with Julie and Junior instead, but I more than fulfilled all my responsibilities to her and our family, and at the end of the day, Junior was my son, my flesh and blood, and he therefore deserved the same consideration as my other children.

The children were watching TV in the living room when I walked in, and the girls excitedly got up to greet me at the door, while Daniel, as usual, was more reserved, quietly mumbling his greeting from where he sat.

The hullaballoo brought Diane’s mother in from the kitchen, where she had no doubt been making the new maid’s life miserable as she supervised the dinner preparations.

“David! Welcome back. How was your work retreat?” she greeted me cordially.

Diane clearly had not shared her findings on my actual weekend activities with her mother, which was a small relief.

“It was fine thank you; how have you guys been?”
“We’ve managed,” she shrugged. “I was telling Diane that your office should have understood that you had an ill wife at home, and let you miss the retreat, but thankfully, we managed without you. Diane even went for her review at the hospital by herself today; I offered to take her, since you weren’t around to do so, but she insisted that she would manage on her own – and she did,” she announced, her tone a mixture of accusation and pride.

From her tone, I could tell she expected an apology or explanation, but I was not prepared to give her either.

“That’s nice; speaking of Diane, where is she?” I asked without missing a beat.
“Upstairs in your room; she had said something about resting, so please be quiet,” she answered coldly, clearly disappointed she had not gotten either explanation or apology.

“I will be,” I promised, and then taking a steadying, deep breath, I headed for the stairs.

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