From the moment Maggie and Ed met, they envisioned doing everything together. From walking in the park to carrying each other's ashes to that special place. Everything except getting divorced. The moment Maggie held the cup high and threw it against the wall everything changed. That night something broke, and it wasn't the cup that miraculously landed safely. It was their dying marriage of 7 years.
Maggie and Ed looked at each other in silence just like the first time they met, nine years ago at the birthday party of Maggie's best friend, Alicia. Neither of them had the courage to start talking, to confess that they were tired of pretending, of lying, of hurting each other, of telling themselves that tomorrow would be a new day to forget about their problems and have a new beginning.
It was just another miserable lie.
“I-I want a divorce,” Maggie said, her voice wavering. “I want a divorce Ed,” She reiterated to get his attention. Ed was a man who easily got lost in thought.
“You know that all couples have their ups and downs.”
“I'm fed up, I want a divorce,” Maggie responded with the same conviction with which she said I agree before the altar.
Ed grabbed Maggie by the arm and shook her. “Is that really what you want?” She did not answer. Neither wanted a divorce but in the midst of the tribulations they were experiencing, separation seemed like the least painful option. "Alright!" Ed shouted. “You got it,” he finally said and slammed the door as he left the house.
Maggie locked herself in her room while Ed wandered around a bar for hours with bottomless drinks and ended up sleeping in his car.
Tears were shed and insomnia was the only companion of both.
The next morning they both had breakfast in a more civilized manner. After their discussion they agreed that having an amicable divorce was the least they could do to honor their marriage and the integrity of their family. Waiting for the house to sell and split the money was the plan, since they both had a lot of expenses—Ed was studying for his master's degree and Maggie still owed on her new car—and getting the money from the house was vital for each of them to continue on their path. . That same afternoon Ed nailed the “For Sale” sign in the yard and the two sat on opposite sides of the table—contrary to their tradition—and virtually divided the entire house, except for the common areas that they rigorously scheduled for use with the family. purpose of avoiding friction while living together.
The still official husband and wife waited patiently for an interested passerby to knock on the door to buy the house... they waited and waited, but the lucky buyer refused to appear. The calendar pages were torn out one by one and the only visitor was the lawyer with tons of papers, cumbersome procedures and a handful of bills to pay. Suddenly divorce didn't seem as liberating as they thought, but the hope of selling the house and finally having that new beginning kept them clinging to the idea.
One day in early October, a man came to the door asking about the house. Maggie gave him a tour like a diligent real estate salesperson while Ed did not miss the opportunity to highlight the cost-benefit of the property like a financial advisor.
“How much do you want?” The prospect asked, highly interested.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” Ed said, convinced that the house they bought for almost two hundred thousand five years ago was worth at least an extra 25%.
The man laughed in their faces, took a second look at the house and laughed again. Maggie and Ed heard the man's laughter as he continued on his way to his car.
“Don't worry,” Ed said, holding Maggie's shoulder in support. “Someone else will come.”
And he was right. Five more prospects came that month, and the same five left laughing just as much.
The economic crisis that was plaguing the country was nothing new, but it was not a joke either. The real estate market collapsed, burying property prices like never before and with no signs of recovery in the short term. For sale signs were tacked up outside houses everywhere in the neighborhood and ended up covered in dust and faded all alike. While planning the scenario of their idyllic divorce, the couple forgot to consider the risks of external threats. But it was too late to look for contingencies. Both refused to cut what they considered to be the fair price of the house to accommodate the new demands of the market and leaving the house at that time was, for either of them, less economically feasible than ever.
They continued to share the house, and over time, they developed an economical and perfectly functional symbiotic relationship. Maggie learned heavy housework and Ed learned the art of cooking and cleaning. Sometimes they shared the table politely, other times they ate on their own. They each watched their favorite television show in a different room instead of fighting for control, and for the first time in a long time, peace finally reigned in that home.
One night Maggie came home dead tired and went straight to bed, falling asleep as soon as she felt the comfort of the mattress. During the early morning she woke up hungry, heard noises in the kitchen and went downstairs. Maggie found a delicious sandwich on the counter and the refrigerator door closed revealing a young woman wearing only the blue silk shirt that Maggie had given Ed for Christmas.
“Hello,” the girl said, squeezing the bottle of pickles onto the sandwich. "You are hungry?" The beautiful girl said licking her fingers.
Maggie carefully took the sandwich with both hands and threw it against the kitchen window. “Get out of my house you bitch!” Maggie yelled.
“Wow, calm down, lady.” The girl took a few steps back scared.
Ed ran down the stairs and realized that bringing the girl home to save motel costs hadn't been the brightest idea. "What the hell is going on?"
“Ed make him go away.” Maggie ordered, pointing at the door and her words were enough for the frightened girl to go upstairs and get her things.
"What about you?" Ed whispered.
“Why did you bring her home?” Maggie screamed.
“Shhhhhhhhh.” Ed shushed her.
“I'm not going to calm down while that bitch is in my house.” Maggie screamed at the ceiling hoping the girl would hear her. “Why did you bring her home? Answer to me."
"That? There is nothing wrong with it. Please look at us,” Ed finally responded. “We are getting divorced for the love of God. Did I say something about you screwing stupid Rob Simmons?”
“But this is our house.” Maggie burst into tears.
“The same one that we tried to sell to no avail, in fact.”
The girl came down putting on her heels as she made her way to the door. Ed followed her but she slammed the door in his face. Ed clenched his hands trembling with anger and went straight to his room. He took a suitcase and put it on the bed, throwing into it the first clothes he came across.
"What are you doing?" Maggie said standing in the doorway.
“Which I should have done a long time ago,” Ed responded irritably.
Maggie went to her bedroom and grabbed Ed's things and helped him pack gently at first, but as her tears flowed so did her temper and she ended up throwing everything on the floor.
"Now what?" Ed yelled pulling his hair to control his anger.
“Look at me,” she grabbed Ed's face. “Look at me and tell me you don't love me.” Ed turned away but Maggie turned her face towards her. “Look at me and tell me you don't love me!”
Ed avoided her but she pushed him against the wall. "Tell me!"
“Step aside,” Ed pushed her and Maggie jumped on him. They struggled, crashing into the television and bouncing on the dresser, then the bureau, the closet until they finally landed on the bed. The pulling turned into kissing and the once screams of hatred became screams of exciting pleasure.
They didn't know the hows and were terrified to wonder the whys. But they recognized that this was the way their relationship had worked from the beginning, and chances were it would be the same way. Ed was Alicia's boyfriend—Maggie's best friend—the night they met. Alicia found them in the act in her bedroom. That was Alicia's birthday gift, losing her boyfriend and her best friend on the same night.
The doorbell rang. Maggie went down to answer it wrapped in the covers and was shocked to find a police officer. She hid behind the half-open door, more ashamed of the scandal caused to the neighbors than of her lack of clothes.
“Sorry officer,” Maggie stammered. “We're fine, it was just, you know, just a marital thing.” She laughed nervously.
The shocked officer looked at her in silence for a moment and finally said. “Is the house still for sale?
M. Ch. Landa
