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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

593 Riverside Drive - 11. Chapter 11

“What!” Herbert nearly shouted when he heard what Ella said at dinner. “I can’t believe you lived that way for two years. What kind of a marriage is that?”

“Herbert,” my father cautioned. “Keep your voice down.”

“Why?” Herbert asked grinning. “Everyone’s here.”

My father still motioned with both of his hands – “Lower.”

“I need to talk with you,” Herbert immediately told Ella. “Alone and – ideally – in the bedroom.”

“Herbert!” my father groaned. “Ethel is here.”

My uncle simply laughed. “She probably knows more than any one of us do.” Then he turned back to Ella. “Is there any way we can talk you out of this? From what you’ve said, seeing those doctors and a psychiatrist will only be humiliating.”

“That’s how I feel,” Ella agreed. “About the examinations, but not the divorce. And if seeing these doctors is the best way...”

“It will be impossible,” Herbert warned. “I know a dozen-or-more doctors and as many medical students, and they almost always put facts over feelings.”

“It’s bad enough for people in our family to know,” Essie went on, “imagine what it will feel like to talk about these matters in a courtroom.”

“And you and Joe both have to be examined,” my mother added. “What will he say about that?”

“I haven’t asked him yet,” Ella admitted. “I wanted to see how all of you felt first.”

“This is the time to stop,” my father offered, “in my opinion.”

“Then do you think I should stay married?” Ella asked. “Considering the situation?”

When Papa didn’t answer, Herbert repeated, “You should have told us sooner – almost immediately. We may have been able to help.” He stopped, but when no one else spoke added, “I still want to talk with you and Joe.”

“How would that help more than our seeing specialists?” Ella questioned.

“I told you – they’re doctors. They’ll offer you prescriptions. I’ll give you practical instruction.”

“I appreciate that,” Ella admitted. “But Joe and I aren’t children. We can read, we’re not shy, and we know how to ask questions. And we’ve tried almost everything.”

“So you’ve said,” Essie agreed. “And do you want to explain that to a jury?”

“It might not be bad,” Ella argued. “One of the lawyers I spoke with said the hearing would be behind closed doors. I’m not sure how few people that means, but I think it will just be a judge.”

“And a bailiff and stenographer,” I added. “Plus at least one lawyer for each of you and the witnesses called every day.”

“That seems better,” Mama admitted, “but I still can’t imagine talking about personal matters in front of strangers – even if they are professionals like doctors and lawyers.”

“You’d be surprised what doctors have told me,” Herbert said laughing. “They like to gossip as much as priests.” When Papa clearly disapproved, my uncle turned to Ella and said, “As I’ve said, we need to talk without my censorious brother in the room.”

Everyone laughed at that, so Papa grinned. Then Herbert went on. “And maybe our talking will end all this.”

“Thank you,” Ella said smiling. “But I really think – and I don’t mean to offend you – that I’d be more comfortable with the doctors.”

“Sex is hard,” Herbert said with a shrug. “Even saying the word makes some people nervous.”

“I’m not that bad,” Papa insisted.

“I know – you’ve been my angel confessor for years.” Herbert turned to his wife. “Both of you. And there are things I’m just comfortable talking about – maybe it’s the science.”

Essie and Papa laughed, and Herbert admitted, “All right – it’s not the science.” After we all laughed, Ella resumed, “Now how are we going to tell Joe?”

It took a while, but we decided it might be best if Ella invited Joe to dinner – with just her, Mama, Papa, and me. “You know I feel more comfortable with other people around,” she reminded us. “Actually, I barely see Joe at the apartment – because he leaves to New Jersey before I arrive to wake up Laurie. And I leave before Joe’s home, changing what I originally planned because it’s too hard to sit through dinner with Laurette and her grandfather. I hate to put the extra responsibility on Joe, but Rose says he’s been very good about it. He talks more with Laurie and Laurette and looks over Laurie’s schoolwork after I’ve made sure it’s been done. Katie reads it, too, and then she puts Laurie to bed. And he likes seeing Joe more than on Sundays.”

That seemed reassuring, but Joe’s first reactions at our dinner weren’t.

“Sex exams for both of us? Haven’t we done enough of those? Why put us through them again?”

“The other appointments were with our family doctors,” Ella calmly explained, “to see if they could find out what was wrong. These are for the lawyers, to build their cases, and I guess they need to be more complete. And this seems far more appropriate than pretending one of us is having an affair.”

“It would have to be you,” Joe joked, “since we’re trying to prove that I couldn’t possibly have one.”

Ella smiled and momentarily reached across the table, putting her hand on his. “This is something the lawyers need to prove,” she repeated. “I doubt either of us will learn anything new.”

“And you won’t simply come home?” Joe asked. “What we’ve been doing isn’t nearly as awful as I thought, and maybe we can learn from it.”

Ella seemed to consider. “I’ve thought about having separate bedrooms. Other couples do.”

“Rich people,” Joe kidded.

“And having my own car helps enormously, and I appreciate your doing that. It lets me get easily to your apartment.”

“Our apartment.”

Ella again hesitated. “But I can’t live with Ira and Laurette. She may improve if she could find a college or a job – something that would give her more to do than waste your money.”

Joe shrugged that off. Spending money didn’t seem to bother to him.

“Maybe I could talk with her,” I suggested.

“You’re very different,” Ella replied.

“But we’re the same age, and whenever we’ve met – and excuse me for saying this – she doesn’t seem to be nearly the person you describe.”

“Maybe I can’t see past how she treats me,” Ella admitted, “which seems to be something her grandfather encourages.” Ella turned to Joe. “And even if you can’t see it, your father is only getting worse.”

“It’s not something Ella’s imagining,” my mother confirmed. “He treats me and our visiting friends as if we’re factory girls.”

Joe seemed to find that funny. “Well, maybe Katie can help him more, now that you’re taking care of Laurie.”

“I doubt he’d let her,” Ella offered. “And I’m not sure Katie has the experience, or the interest, to work with Ira. She seems to prefer being with children.”

“We still have time to figure this out,” Joe insisted. “I’ll talk with Daughtie and my father and see what can change.”

I could tell Ella would have felt more comfortable if she went ahead with her plans, but Joe went on.

“Let’s put this off for a month and let me get through the Christmas sales. You know how much of my business they make up.”

Papa and Herbert nodded their heads to agree.

“Then I’ll go to one of your doctors,” Joe assured Ella, “and see how embarrassing it is.”

“It may be just like a normal office visit,” Ella counseled, and Joe smiled.

“I don’t normally sit in my doctor’s office with my underclothes off,” he joshed. “And I don’t imagine you do, either. At least, it’s not something I want to picture.”

Ella laughed at that, and so did the rest of us. But no one seemed very happy.

Copyright © 2023 RichEisbrouch; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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