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PART III: MOTHER FUCKER
1/2 oz rum
1/2 oz tequila
1/2 oz vodka
1/2 oz gin
1/2 oz blue curacao liqueur
4 - 5 oz soda (7-up, Sprite)
1 1/2 oz sweet and sour mix
Ice Cubes
Use a shaker
Mix all ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Fill a Collins glass with the ice cubes and strain the mix into it. Sit back and enjoy!
14
Saona
“Your honor, I love my wife. I’ve loved her since the first moment I saw her. I’ve made a lot of mistakes but I’m human. I know I don’t deserve her but…I want a chance to show her how sorry I am. I want to show her I’m a changed man. I want the opportunity to make this up to her.”
And I want to vomit.
David’s gaze is lasering to mine from the other side of the room. I’m reigning in the urge to roll my eyes to the back of my head. But Carina prepared me for this. I laughed when she said he would play the contrite husband who would do anything to get me back. I tried to tell her that wasn’t his style. All he knew how to do was throw childish tantrums and slam doors.
She said, “Girl, you don’t even know the shit I see on a daily basis. It wouldn’t surprise me if he brought a priest to attest that he’s been more chaste than a choir boy.”
She turned out to be a prophet. From the moment the proceeding began, David and his lawyer began lobbying for marriage counseling, mediation, and everything under the sun.
“Saona, I love you and I’m asking you for the chance to show you how much I’ve changed. We owe it to each other to try. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll know we gave it our best.”
The scoff is on the tip of my tongue but Carina taps the back of her heel to mine. It’s our rehearsed signal and it means I need to calm down and choose my words carefully.
I take a deep breath and stay calm. He’s not going to get to me. Not this time.
“Is there anything you want to add, Mrs. Torres?” The judge’s tone is cutting. This man has already decided I’m in the wrong. He’s spent months granting David any bullshit thing he can use to roadblock our divorce.
But it’s my right to speak my mind and I won’t budge. Not after all David has done to me. I square my shoulders back and look at the judge.
“Yes, your honor. My marriage lost the battle long ago. David has been unfaithful to me from the very beginning. He’s lied to me, used me. For six years, I’ve been supporting the household and paying the rent and bills. I’ve also helped him and his relatives. He and his lawyers have been trying to find loopholes around a prenup he and his mother surprised me with two days before our wedding. He’s claiming that he didn’t know my earnings and I was never transparent but he’s the one that insisted we file taxes separate and handled our assets the same way. I can’t…”
I press my lips together and release a shaky breath. “…be married to someone who thinks so little of me, he’s out in the streets with hookers. He could’ve given me a disease. He didn’t respect me and I can’t respect him. I know in my heart counseling is not the answer because once respect is gone, there is nothing there.”
The room is plunged into silence and the judge is looking at the papers in front of him. My heart is beating so hard and so fast. I breathe and look down at my hands braced on the desk. The surface is a dark wood, like the original color of Jax’s built-in bookcases in the family room before we painted them that light gray, almost white, color.
I find my anchor there, channeling my last visit to Baltimore a month ago. I try to tap into the peace I found in Jax’s house, reading by the window seat or helping him with his kitchen backsplash. Memorial Day weekend had been memorable in all ways. It had been the first time I touched grout and he’d laughed at how bad I was at tiling and doing everything else but bossing him around. I threatened to go to the spa and leave him to work alone. He’d accused me of being bad and bougie.
How could I have made it this far without those moments? David and his family took turns trying to get to me. They called my job and I had to have the receptionist block their numbers. Worst of all, my mother was lobbying for him. I couldn’t spend time with her without getting badgered. That’s why I never go to her house by myself anymore, only with my sister and her kids. Sierra is my soundboard and protector when it comes to Mom.
But my sister couldn’t keep me from being anxious all over again or making me forget David and the bullshit. The only one that could do that was Jax. He, who left work and drove two hours to meet me in New Jersey, is the only one that gave me peace. That afternoon, I’d thought I would have to go to the hospital but he’d told me to get a rental and drive to a restaurant close to the Delaware Bridge. We stayed on the phone together the whole ride there.
My car was barely off when I rushed out to him. He held me so tight, wrapping me in the marine notes of his cologne. It worked better than yoga or melatonin. I found serenity with my eyes closed and my face against the warm skin of his neck. I’ll never forget that collection of goodbye kisses, with him apologizing for having to work at the bar that night in between. He’d seem as broken up to leave me as I’d been about saying goodbye to him.
