Chapter 10 in R.M. Dolin’s book, “The Dangling Conversation,” April 22, 2024
ISABELLE: “It goes way beyond causal curiosity, here we are sitting on this bench night after night talking about the this and that’s of everything and anything and you’ve never mentioned her once, not even her name in passing. I find it odd and interesting that you can meet this Nadia woman, have a whirlwind relationship, be convinced she’s the love of your life, your one true soul mate, and in the midst of all that romance, you up and marry someone else. Not only is there one helluva story buried deep in all that, but once your veil’s been lifted, I’m going to know a lot more about you; more important, how it is you came to be sitting on this park bench.
“Why is it you’re afraid to talk about her. Is it out of loyalty to Nadia, is it because you’re embarrassed about the things you did and decisions you made? That’s it isn’t it; I mean so what, you think you’re the only one who’s made bad or stupid decisions, let me tell you Bub, you may have been around the block a time or two, but I own the stinking sidewalks you stroll along with carefree elegance so I think we can dispense with the whole ego and pride thing.
“I propose we play a game of tit-for-tat, or as we called it as kids, “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” You start, tell me what you want to know about my life since we already know what I’m here to learn about yours. But wait, first we need to decide on the rules; there has to be rules don’t you think, otherwise this is gonna be a wild west free for all. I personally vote for free for all, mostly cause I think you’re way more afraid to show me yours than I am to show you mine and I find that provocatively amusing.
“It’s not that I think having you reveal secrets is fun or even fascinating, even though it is, what rings my bell is turning the tables on you for once. Seems like night after night we sit here as I bare my soul for your amusement, so yes, at the very least it’s appropriate to have you spend some time in the witness chair. So, to begin our deposition, tell me her name, how you met, and what the hell you’re thinking when you ask her to marry you knowing Nadia’s out there?”
KYLE: “You’re beyond brutal, you know that; not even that, you’re downright vicious, even sadistic. What gives you the right to presume to ask me questions that you know by your own admission I don’t want to answer? Even if I’m inclined to talk about it, I’m uncertain I can tell the story in a way that can in any way make sense; twenty plus years later I’m still trying to make sense of what happened. It’s not like you haven’t already pulled crap from me I never intended to share; I don’t know how much of a person’s soul you think you’re entitled to conquer, but no one’s seen more of my snakes than you.
“I suppose though, in for a penny in for a pound, as the blokes across the pond like to say. So, as you already know, I move to Washington after my first marriage ends to take a job at the State Department and while I’m there I attend a conference in Paris to present my paper on Uncertainty as part of my research into Truth and Trust; specifically, on how it applies to the geopolitics of rare earth mineral development. I meet Nadia on the Metro and we spend an amazing day just walking the cobblestone streets of Paris and talking. I want to know her more but leave thinking I’ll probably never see her again. Then her graduate dissertation topic changes and she’s sent to Washington to study the influence funding has on academic research outcomes and how that taints legislation and corrupts industries, particularly the medical and pharmaceutical sectors. Pretty heavy-duty stuff for a soft-spoken introvert but she’s bold and fearless when it comes to her research.
“It doesn’t take long after she arrives in Washington to be deep into a good old fashion courtship that before long has us moving in together and living a blissful life. But that lasts less than a year before that fateful morning when I awaken to find her gone without warning or explanation. I try for months to contact her but no response, until one day almost two years later I receive a note telling me she’s married and has a kid. Of course, I’m devastated and not knowing the what’s and whys only fuels my angst; to be completely honest, I’m beyond devastated, I’m broken and lost, like my soul’s been sent to solitary confinement without so much as a morsel of light or warmth and certainly no hope. I remain that way for quite some time, probably longer than I should, but one has to process at their own pace and I’m in no hurry to push through mine.
“Then one day, quite beyond the borders of what I’d call reasonable, at the urging of some friends I try my luck with on-line dating; that’s where I meet wife number two. I’m really only there to ease myself back into the dating world not thinking at all about relationships, commitments, or anything long term; certainly not about ever getting remarried. Olivia’s everything a man can hope for, she’s young, incredibly beautiful; smart as anyone I’ve ever known, which imparts her with a deep wisdom I find intoxicating. She has a flamboyant charm that easily draws me out of my shell of solitude and into the vulnerability of being open, she shows my soul it’s possible to laugh and find joy again. We date for about a year before deciding to marry. It’s a simple wedding, which is all she wants; it’s a part of her charm, she’s not the kind of woman to be swayed by ostentatious displays. It’s that way for all aspects of her life, from the car she drives, the clothes she wears, and the things she buys for our home, always simple and yet with a sophisticated elegance and an unmatched je ne sais quoi; like I said, that’s her charm.
“She’s a damn good and gifted artist but has no belief in her talents, however, she seems content to pursue her art in private while I do my nerdy nine-to-five at State. She likes to travel, and we do whenever life allows, but never to France; it isn’t that I’m carrying a torch for Nadia, it’s more that I need the past I fought so hard to forget to remain forgotten. I never mention that part o my past to Olivia, not only would not be fair, it doesn’t serve any purpose and I don’t want to hurt her. I love Olivia with all my heart, a full and earnest love with no room for memories of a past that less and less haunts me. My oldest son is born two years after we marry, with my daughter following a year later, and my second son a year after that.
“We’re a perfect family living the perfect suburban dream; work is good, summers are spent at my New Mexico cabin, we travel when we can; it really is idyllic in almost every way, but it never really is, is it. It’s really one of the grandest lies we tell ourselves. After our third child, a darkness settles over her, subtle at first in ways you don’t really notice and easily dismiss. That’s the thing about darknesses, it creeps in so slow you’re unaware; it’s like being outside as evening transitions to night, your eyes are able to slowly adjust so you don’t really notice the incremental loss of light until suddenly you realize its gone.
“That’s how things are with Olivia, first she just seems a little quite sometimes; something I don’t even notice and when I finally do, she always assures me things were okay. Then her art slows down, not in a dramatic all at once kind of way, but slowly over time she loses interest in first one project, then another; usually that means she’s transitioning to some new artistic medium that’s caught her excitement, but this time she’s putting down one pursuit but not replacing it with anything new. That’s when I start accepting something’s wrong. I try talking to her about it, but she’s in denial, at least to me; I can’t say if she’s in denial to herself but think she is. Then she starts withdrawing, it begins by staying up to three or four in the morning and sleeping past noon every day. I know something has to be done and after weeks of cajoling, I convince her to come with me to see a shrink; by the end of the first session the doctor’s diagnosed her with depression and prescribes medications to help her brain re-balance.
“Against my pleading, Olivia refuses to take any of the medications, her logic’s that she’s depressed and not crazy, so she doesn’t need crazy pills. I try to convince her that the medication will help her heal; that they’re not crazy pills, but rather stuff that to help her get better. I tell her the mind is just a muscle same as any other that can over time get damaged for all kinds of reasons and just needs some help to heal, but she’s not buying any of it. She equates depression with sadness and they’re not the same; she’d say shit like, “I just need to find a way to be happy.” I try to accommodate, we travel more, spend more time away from the kids, go to art events and even out to nice restaurants; of course, none of that helps because all we’re doing is treating the symptom and not the cure. Sometimes, unfortunately, two people find themselves locked in a life that wears on their souls so deeply you end up with this dark cloud of doom constantly hovering over you preventing any kind of light into your life with no hope of finding a rainbow.”
ISABELLE: “I too danced with the devil following my divorce, but while you wisely move on, I thrash around the cesspool of my life because I just can’t seem to escape no matter how hard I try. I’ll tell what happens, but keep in mind, it’s not me at my finest. It did feel right at the time though, and certainly at that moment, something dramatic needed to be done. It’s about two years after my divorce; I’m still on the run from my Ex, only he’s just found me, it’s the second time since I moved out and just when I’m starting to believe I’m finally free from him. I know it’s stupid to take a stand, and when you hear my story, you’re going to say, “Isabelle, what the hell were you thinking!” But as you’ll soon see, I have to do something. I can’t keep running and living in fear, I’ve dug a hole so dark and deep there’s nothing to do but keep on digging hoping to find light at the bottom, only there’s never ever rainbows in the abyss.
“What I need is some sort of plan to put an end to this nonsense once and for all. I’m not thinking clearly in my frantic state cause now that he’s found me, there’s so much to do and so little time. I’m moving as quickly and quietly as possible while avoiding detection and yet need to maximize this moment in a way he’ll never screw with me again. To fully appreciate the genius of the plan I come up with, you need to know a few background items of information. First, I’ll introduce you to my cast of characters, Brad and Mandy, Brad’s my neighbor upstairs and Mandy’s a coworker. There’s nothing going on between Brad and I other than helping each other out with deliveries or errands from time to time, and Mandy’s more or less in the same boat as me with her Ex, only her situation’s more dangerous but less dramatic. Oh, and I can’t forget to mention the star of our drama, Murray, Brad’s two-year-old German Short-hair Pointer. He’s a great dog but has way too much energy and is extremely high maintenance. He’s such a hero in my story I felt obligated to name my puppy after him. Murray sometimes goes to doggy daycare whenever Brad has to go into work or on travel; sometimes Brad asks me to either pick Murray up if he’s running late or drop him off if he has other commitments. Of course I don’t mind, I love hanging out Murray as much as I like going to his daycare to play with the other dogs.
“When I first find out my Ex has found me, I tell Mandy and she knows a guy who has connections with a guy who claims to be a gangster, who for surprising not much money is willing to rough-up my Ex and convince him things are only going to get worse if bothers me again. Even though I don’t much like my Ex at this point, I can’t fully bring myself to be responsible for him getting beat-up, so I’m reluctant to pull that trigger as tempting as it seems. It would be the fast and easy solution, but I just can’t reconcile what doing that would say about me and the person I’d become. I keep trying to rationalize things by telling myself that it’s not so much a reflection on me as it is evidence of the person my Ex has driven me to become, a person not really me. Mandy almost manages to convince me it’s a measured and justified response, but then I start worrying the cops will likely believe my Ex after he accuses me of being behind his beating. The cops do little to protect women in these situations and if they force me to take a lie detector test, I’ll fail and end up in prison for doing something he drove me to do, which would mean the bastard wins and I can’t allow that to happen. I finally tell Mandy no and get to work on a better plan; one that doesn’t end with me in jail and him taking victory laps.
“I know my Ex enough to know whatever I come up with has to be a permanent solution, anything short of that only emboldens him and doesn’t end well for me. I’m tired of running though, really at my last straw so just about anything will do, regardless of the risk, except of course the risk of prison. My video door camera is what tips me that I’ve been discovered, the camera catches him snooping around the previous two days. He comes by in the afternoon and looks in the apartment window, rifles through my mail, hangs around a few minutes then leaves. He has to know there’s a camera, you can’t really miss it, which means he’s doing what he does on purpose. It’s one of his favorite ways to intimidate me; he hides his face to insure I can’t just give a copy of the video to the police as evidence he’s violated his restraining order, but he knows I know it’s him even if I can’t prove it, that’s how demented the bastard narcissists is.
“I know he’ll be back tomorrow cause he hasn’t left his mark yet; each time he wants me to know he’s watching, he takes a ruby lipstick and draws a small heart on my door; it’s a sweet thing turned evil. Back when we were still in love and he had to leave before me in the morning, he’d draw a heart on my bathroom mirror with an ‘X’ and ‘O’ in the middle. It was sweet then but terrifying now. He’ll keep coming to my door every afternoon until he leaves his heart, that’s his weakness, it’s the vital element allowing my plan to finally be free from him to work.”
KYLE: “Einstein liked to say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. I guess your Ex can be classified as insane because in his demented mind I’m sure he’s convinced he’s winning you back each time he leaves his little lipstick heart. I’m sure if you pressed him, he’d say his stalking isn’t about rage or revenge, it’s about winning you back and there’s just no way to convince him he won’t win in the end.”
ISABELLE: “Exactly, which is why I tell Mandy about my plan the night before it’s set to execute because she plays a pivotal role. I leave Brad in the dark even though he plays an even bigger role, his surprise at the end is key to perfecting the desired outcome. I’m counting on Brad to react the same way he did when some homeless creeps try taking Murray after a swim in the river; let’s just say Brad’s not one to trifle with when he’s in protection mode. Even though everything’s coming together smoothly, I start having second thoughts. On the one hand, my plan is so perfect it has to work but at the same time, it’s so simple it can’t possibly work. Something must be missing, some small detail I’ve overlooked. Yet no matter I much I try to find my fatal flaws there aren’t any, so really, how can I not proceed with at least a small sense of confidence my nightmare of running is about to come to an end.
“The night before my planned rendezvous with destiny, I convince Brad to let me drop Murray off at daycare in the morning, Brad’s not going anywhere, but he’s been complaining lately about Murray interrupting work to play or potty, or even worse, barking while he’s in the middle of a video meeting. Like I said, Murray’s a high-energy, high-maintenance dog so I suggest that what Brad needs is an uninterrupted day to focus on work. We agree I’ll pick Murray up on my way to work tomorrow and drop him off at daycare, then Brad will collect Murray after work and the three of us will meet at the river-walk entrance at six. Murray loves the river-walk because there’s a special bend midway downstream where dogs are allowed to swim and that dog lives to swim.
“To kick off, “Operation Freedom,” I pick Murray up on my way to work and drop him off at doggy day care per the plan. Murray’s in fine form that morning, between licking the back of my neck and ears and sticking his head out the window to throttle his jowls with passing air, he’s in constant motion. I manage to get him dropped off, then go into work until noon, when I quickly return home to tape a message to my door that reads,
“Darling Brad, please pick Murray up at daycare before
meeting me at the entrance to the river-walk at six.
Thanks, see you then, Isabelle.
PS: Murray’s with the two year olds today and the daycare
director is expecting you to pick him up so there
shouldn’t be any issues, see you at six.”
“I’m confident my Ex will read this note and my door camera will confirm once he has. The interesting pieces of this cryptic message are that it’s been about two years and nine months since the last time he and I had sex which could, in theory, make Murray his potential son; pretty brilliant, huh? Second, and equally important, is after the first time my Ex found me and there was a scene, my lawyer got a restraining order against him with hefty penalties for any violation. Once he sees the note though, he’ll be overcome with a need to confront me and there simply won’t be any way he can stop himself from coming to the river-walk entrance and creating a scene, one I hope causes his demise.
“This is where Mandy comes in, she’s my video stenographer, who’ll be casually at the entrance pretending to be tourist taking pictures. Her job is to conclusively capture my Ex accosting me in public. As an added measure, I hope my Ex wears the same cloths at the river-walk that he does at my apartment door when picking up my note, that way I also have proof he was there; both of which are a complete violation of his restraining order that I can then use to blackmail him into leaving me alone. If my Ex and Brad get into a verbal altercation, that’s just bonus video. It won’t come to blows, my Ex can be threatening to weaker victims, but he won’t have the stones to mess with Brad, especially with Murray right there eager for action.
“The only real glitch in my perfectly conceived plan, is the after-action briefing where I have to explain all this to Brad, which I’m fairly certain will take more than one glass of wine and a promise of unlimited doggy duties. Then there’ll be making sure he understands the whole “Darling Brad” thing was just part of my rues, but other than that, Brad and I will be okay.”
KYLE: “Your well thought out plan makes me think about something President Eisenhower said when asked about the value of planning for his D-day invasion of Europe during World War II, it goes something like this “In preparing for battle I always found plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.” In other words, no matter how well you plan, once things get rolling, they take on a life of their own; I get a feeling, the wheels are about to come off your bus.”
ISABELLE: “We get to the six o’clock portion of my plan with flawless execution. My Ex arrives at my apartment that afternoon as planned, he reads the note and tears it off the door before storming off in a fit of rage. After that though, the plan goes completely off the rails with nothing playing out according to script. First, Mandy’s late and when she does arrive her phone’s nearly dead, so I give her mine, but it keeps locking up and needing me to unlock it. Then Brad arrives just ahead of my Ex, but immediately Murray takes off after a tennis ball another dog owner threw and Brad’s all distracted chasing Murray around the grassy area of the river-walk entrance trying to get the ball back.
“That’s when my Ex shows up, the only one seeming to stay on script. I thought I’d seen his rage before, but he’s in a completely different orbit. He rushes up to me without any regard for the consequences of his restraining order and immediately starts demanding to know where his son’s at and to know who the hell this Brad bastard is. He creates such a scene that suddenly there’s a dozen people holding out their phones to capture our encounter. I don’t know how much you’re on social media, but perhaps you saw my video without actually knowing it was me; it sorta went viral for a while.
“It’s about then Brad finally gets control of Murray and the two of them walk over to my Ex unaware we’re in the middle of a huge scene. Brad’s got this patented friendly smile and his hand’s out to shake saying to my Ex, “Hi I’m Brad.” Without warning or hesitation, my Ex punches poor Brad in face so hard it staggers him backward causing him to fall on his ass, which of course causes Murray to launch his sixty-pound body at my Ex knocking him to ground. Unfinished, Murray hops on my Ex’s chest growling ferociously in his face, daring him to make a move. I’m frantically trying to pull Murray off my Ex before he does any damage and of course I’m screaming over and over, “Murray! Stop!”
“About the time I get Murray dragged off, Brad’s back up and violently jerking my Ex off the ground by his shirt collar shouting, “I don’t know what the F@#% this is all about, but you’d better explain yourself pretty damn quick.” I don’t know that Brad intended to hit my Ex but his free arm’s cocked and his hand’s clenched a tight fist; and that’s when the Keystone cops arrive.”
“Seems whenever you really need a cop they’re nowhere to be found and as soon as the best laid plan goes to shit, there they are, swooping in from all directions convinced someone needs to either be tased, shot, or arrested, and on first glance, it appears Brad’s the likely target. This is all about to end very badly for Brad, but luckily, he obeys orders and releases my Ex moments before being tased. As the cops cuff poor innocent Brad while comforting my Ex, the bastard’s looking at me with a huge grin knowing he’s just won. But eventually the wheels in dense head spin enough for him to realize, “Murray’s a freaking dog!” he shouts. I smile back with a taunting grin knowing it’s me who’s won. “Don’t much matter,” he says with that shit eaten grin I wish Brad had knocked into the next county, “they’ll put him down for attacking me.”
“As you might imagine, that just gets Brad all spun up again and even though he’s cuffed, he has to be restrained by two officers. While all this is going on, Murray’s off to the side playing with a little girl without a care in the world. The two of them are rolling around on the grass while the little girl laughs and rubs his belly, teasing him with a ball. This causes one of the officers to shout, “whoever owns that dog, get em on a leash until we sort all this out.”
“I have to say things are looking pretty bleak for me, Murray, and Brad, but luckily Mandy and a dozen or so onlookers come through and start showing the officers videos they’d taken and it’s enough to exonerate Brad and Murray; mostly because Murray didn’t actually bite my Ex and Brad didn’t actually hit him. The cops are, understandably, far less generous with my Ex, they arrest him for assault and for violating his restraining order. He’s able to post bail but beyond that I don’t know what happens. He has, however, left me alone since. I mean I move here shortly afterwards so can’t say I’m completely in the clear, but I at least like to believe I’m done running. After I explain things to Brad, he says he forgives me, but it’s never the same between us. There’s always this weird awkwardness, it’s a huge reason why I move.
“And now you know how I wound up sitting on this park bench with a puppy named Murray and an apartment full of unpacked boxes.”
Kyle’s story about Olivia is finished in Chapter 11, Last Look at Love
