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6 x 9 Paperback cream |
ISBN: 9781432719135 |
$16.95 |
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Genre: |
FICTION / Romance / Suspense |
Publication: |
May 29, 2008 |
Pages: |
318 |
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DRAMATIC STORY OF CONFLICT. . Between A Man’s First Wife and His Step-Daughter.Rhoda and I both listened to the doctor on my Speakerphone. He spoke slowly, emphasizing his words. “Your husband can’t go home. He must stay in the hospital. I don’t want my patient to die!” My husband was Tommy. He was my first husband, long divorced and finally back together again. High on morphine he called me early the next morning. “Come get me. I’m going home!” “No!" I said. "You can’t come home. Your doctor said you MUST stay in the hospital.” “Put Rhoda on!” he demanded. I handed the phone to his step-daughter. She listened for a moment, then said, “I love you, Daddy. I’ll be right there to get you.”
She hung up, turned to me, and in seven short words summed up what came to be Tommy’s death sentence:
“Whatever my father wants – I will do!"
That's when it occurred to me that Tommy had three houses, a bank account, a truck and that solid gold chain around his neck. Later the attendant at the morgue said to me,
“You can’t stay with him.” She pulled me off his bed. “You put one foot in front of the other, . . . and you MOVE.”
She closed the door. It was as if she had closed the door to my life.
The story of Jackie and Tommy Anthony, as told to Gayle Lerman-DeCoste, is the story of how a couple reunited after 37 years of divorce is destroyed by deceit, betrayal and exploitation of a child --- in the name of love.
A first wife's search for survival after devastation, of her shock, grief and trauma when reduced to a non-entity. Typical of what a woman may face today with the problems of divorce and second families. A wake-up call to society!
Memoir / Inspirational
www.outskirtspress.com/gayledecoste
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CHAPTER ONE - SOUL MATES
Three days after she threw me out of his condo, Tommy’s step-daughter Rhoda invited me to what her guests described as my first husband’s “Celebration of his Death” Party. With a drink in her hand, she stood in front of me, a smile on her face, an ice cold stare in her eyes.
“Jackie, they cremated dad today!”
“Huh?”
“I’m taking him home with me.”
Silence. Only silence. I stood there in shock! My mouth opened but nothing came out. She was stripping me of everything – even his ashes. Cremated and going home in her hands? Her personal property . . . but how could she do that? My mind shut out everything but the echo of Tommy’s words when they took him off the ventilator:
“Jackie, did I leave everything to Rhoda . . . ?”
In a haze so far away I could hear him saying. . . If anything happens to me Jackie, you’ll be okay. You’ll stay here. You’ll make friends. Everything here is yours. You’ll have the furniture. Rhoda will honor my wishes. I trust Rhoda!
Over and over again, his words kept racing through my head – like a sick mockery. The people in the room quickly turned away from me like ripples in a pond. Even in my horror I understood. I was an uncomfortable addition. I spoiled their party. Although we lived together, I was his ex-wife, not his legal widow. Not even a member of his step-daughter Rhoda’s family.
The room spun . . . everything was whirling. I looked at Rhoda. I stifled a scream, fought to keep my balance. Only God kept me from flipping out that night. Everything I treasured in life was being taken away from me. I could not STOP her! SHE had legal authority. Tommy had given it to her. She was his sole heir. He trusted her. Rhoda took him from me in life, and then she took him from me in death. In the end I would have nothing of him. . . NOTHING! Didn’t she realize I was his soul mate?
CHAPTER TWO - CONNECTION IS OUR ESCENSE
Tommy told me he loved me again the very first day we met – after thirty-seven years of our being divorced!
It was July 4, 2003, a Sunday, when he came to our old home town of Mystic Seaport, Connecticut to take me to dinner. Many years before, after he’d divorced his second wife Lilly he'd moved to St. George’s Island in Florida alone.
When we first married I was only eighteen. He was nineteen. Jackie and Tommy Anthony – soul mates since childhood. Like long lost lovers we came apart, but we went back together again. We had exactly one year, five months, seven days and nine hours together in this – the ‘second’ part of our lives. And now, little more than a year on the other side of grief, my words are just beginning to flow. For grief when it comes, is not what one might expect it to be.
Our beginning was sweetness; our ending in Florida was short and bittersweet. In the middle there exists a vast hole . . . it feels as though we got robbed. It was too late when Tommy realized his mistake in judgment, trusting his step-daughter Rhoda to honor his wishes – his ability to handle things severely impaired from a stroke four years earlier.
To make life more confusing, he hadn’t spoken with our son Willy; our only child, for twenty-eight years. Tommy never forgave Willy for what happened when he lived with him, his second wife Lilly and his two little step-daughters – when Willy put Rhoda’s furniture and toys on his truck and drove away. He had disinherited our son then. But Willy might come to Florida now that Tommy and I were back together again.
As the woman who loved him, I stood by helplessly and watched the sick game play out. I gave him all my love. But I was in a vice grip; manipulation was smoldering all around us. High on drugs, against doctor’s orders; she took him home from the hospital when his doctor said he could die. After so many years gone by, we finally found each other again, and so quickly she blew him away. Tommy, love of my life . . . connection is our essence, for we have a love that will never die. Regardless of the fact that he is gone, he will be with me forever.
CHAPTER THREE - COMING HOME - June, 2003
Divorced from my second husband and alone again in life, I moved back to our home town of Mystic Seaport, feeling more secure close to old friends. Named Jatrina Meltzer by my Greek mother, much against the wishes of my Lithuanian father’s side of the family, I am simply known as Jackie. On a trip to Chicago that June, celebrating the arrival of my sixtieth birthday, I was visiting with an old friend. Running for a taxi on a rainy afternoon, the phone call came over my cell and I picked it up on the very last ring.
To my utter astonishment – it was Tommy. Listening to his voice, I sat there in total disbelief. It felt just like yesterday, as though all those long years hadn’t gone by. I’ll never forget his words that day. . .
“Hi, how are you doing?”
“Is it really you. . . Tommy?”
“Yes!”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m OK.”
“It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Jackie, would you like to go to dinner with me?”
A quiet, wonderful feeling swept over me. In total disbelief I sat there, engulfed in utter astonishment that after thirty-seven long years apart, I still felt this deep connection to him.
“Yes Tommy, I’d love to go to dinner with you!”
“Where should I pick you up. . . ?”
“Come up the house, Tom.”
It was then I heard the same old familiar words that I'd remembered from so long ago.
“I don’t care . . . it’s up to you!”
“Tommy, you sound exactly the same.”
“I live in Florida now. I settled here eleven years ago, but I’ll be up north for the summer. Call you when I get there.”
“I'll be waiting!”
“Talk to you later, Jackie. Bye”
I couldn’t believe it. The timing was right. Maybe - this time. . . it was meant to be!
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About Gayle Lerman-DeCoste
Gayle Lerman-DeCoste was born in New England. A writer, artist, art therapist and teacher, she has taught painting classes and workshops at senior centers, nursing homes and privately. She now makes her home on the west coast of Florida, where she works as an Artist, Publicist and Freelance Writer.
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