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Rick Archer's Note:
Is it
possible for Fate to make a person do something against their
will?
Seriously... why
me? If ever there was someone less suited for the
Meyerland job, it was me. I don't know if I can possibly
explain how ridiculous this Meyerland Club situation was.
Obviously the Universe had a very odd sense of humor.
I was the last person who should have gotten
Sandy's phone
call. Or should I say I was the worst
person? I did not want this Meyerland Club job!! I
DESPISED COUNTRY-WESTERN! Given my bad
attitude, getting me to teach this class was almost as
stupid as getting John
Travolta star in a movie about Gilley's.
I could accept the possibility of Sandy's phone call.
Since
I had taught at the Meyerland Club earlier that
year, of course she remembered me. However
Sandy made it clear that several people before me
had gotten the same
phone call. How very strange that no one but
me accepted the challenge. Look at it this
way. Urban Cowboy was not
scheduled to debut until June 1980. Meanwhile early in 1979
over thirty Discos had closed only to reopen a month later
as a Western club. I could not be the only person who
noticed something strange was going on. I estimated there were 10,000-50,000 Texas A&M graduates
in
the Houston area who grew up dancing Western. No doubt when these Aggies visited Cowboy
or some
of the other clubs during the Western
Transformation, they noticed how few people knew how
to dance Country.
Knowing what Travolta had done for Disco
dancing and lessons, what kept someone from
anticipating the same thing was
likely
to happen with Western?
With an ounce of foresight, any
person in Houston who liked Western dancing
had the entire year of 1979 to prepare to teach
C&W lessons.
So what
stopped them? Universal Cosmic Blindness?
Maybe so. I just think it is strange that
all these Aggies who were more qualified than me
never caught on that this obvious business
opportunity awaited them. Instead they
sat idly by as the worst candidate in Houston was
accidentally preparing to steal a prize he did not
even want.
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SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1979
JENNIFER RETURNS
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Shortly
before I left to begin my second Meyerland class on the
16th, my home phone rang. Praying it was
Jennifer, I picked up. I sighed with relief to
find it was indeed Jennifer. Her plane had
just landed.
"I
am so glad I caught you, Rick. I owe you
an apology for how I handled the news about
Victoria. I don't know what came over me.
I guess I felt way too vulnerable. At any
rate, will you come over to my apartment after
class tonight? I really miss you."
Thrilled
to hear the warmth return to her voice, I said of
course. Then I scurried off to dance class.
To my
great relief, the students in the Meyerland class
settled down. For the most part, people wore
normal clothes, the drinking was under control and
the students paid attention. I reviewed the
Cotton Eyed Joe and taught 'Transition Polka',
the pattern Joanne and I had cooked up last
Wednesday.
Sad to say, the students did
not do very well. In particular the men did poorly when
I asked them to dance backwards as part of the
Transition. The men lacked dance
experience, the material was tricky and I lacked
experience at explaining. I did not leave
feeling very good about tonight's class.
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Fortunately, my
mood changed when Jennifer greeted me warmly at the door.
She wasted no time apologizing for being so hard on me
regarding last week's bad news about Victoria's existence.
She sat me down on the couch and engaged me in a serious
conversation about Victoria. There was something about
speaking face-to-face that helped her accept my explanations
with a more open mind than she had displayed over the phone.
Well aware that Jennifer was teetering on the fence, I
wisely omitted any mention of Victoria's threat to move in
with me. However I said enough to make Jennifer visibly worried.
"Rick, do
you think Victoria will leave the studio if you stand up to
her?"
"I cannot
imagine any other scenario. No matter how upset
Victoria is with Michael, at some point she has to face
reality. Disco is dying on the vine and Travolta is
knocking on the door. Camelot is
gone, Annabelle's is gone, her private dance lessons are
gone, her classes are so small they are a joke. The whole point of Victoria's infatuation
with me was to
ensure her status as Queen of the dance studio. Now
that she has quit dancing in public, what is the point of
sticking around?"
"You said
that Victoria loves to teach."
"It is true
that she loves to teach and is good at it. But you have to have
students in order to teach. Victoria had four classes
in August, she has two classes in September. On
Thursday she assists me in my two classes. She is currently making $60 a week at the
studio. Can this possibly be more absurd? Given
the current trend, she might not even have a class in
October. The way I see it, Victoria has no choice but
to patch things up with Michael or file for divorce.
She should be talking to a lawyer, not to me."
Jennifer
frowned. "That makes sense to you and me, but here is what I don't get. I can see
why Victoria was attracted to you when you were the high-flying King
of the dance floor. I was attracted to you for the
same reason. But right now you are the unfortunate
captain of a sinking ship. She knows as well as you do
that you may switch jobs in the near future. What
woman with a small child is foolish enough to exchange a
husband
with a prestigious career for a guy who is going down with
the ship?"
Poor Jennifer.
She assumed that Victoria was reasonable.
"Hmm, I
caught your Titanic reference. Do you want to jump ship?"
"Don't be
silly. I have a job of my own. I have more
than enough patience to stand by you while you sort out
what comes next. But you may have underestimated
Victoria. She seems hell-bent on forcing you to
take her husband's place. "
That was true,
but I had no intention of admitting Jennifer's instinct was
correct.
"Don't be
ridiculous. Victoria can accuse me of leading her on
till she is blue in the face, but I don't agree with her.
I have no guilt where Victoria is concerned with her marital
problems. I never chased her until
she said her husband had given her permission to seek a
relationship with me. The moment I found out her idea
of a relationship was an affair, I shut that down as best I
could. I refuse to give in. Right now I am so disgusted with the woman I
can't see straight."
"Have you
ever kissed her?"
Whoa, where did
that come from?
"Yes, once [Moonlight
Madness]. I was so mad at myself afterwards that I
prayed to God to help me avoid letting this happen again."
"Did you go
all the way?"
"No."
Jennifer studied
my face carefully for signs of guilt. Since I had told
the truth, I guess she could tell.
"What does
Victoria say about her three dance accidents?"
"She is
terrified. Victoria is convinced God does not want her
to perform, that she is being punished for something."
"So why does
she stick around the studio while Disco is dying and her
marriage is eroding?"
"I don't know,
Jennifer. Her behavior makes no sense to me. Since there is no way Victoria can make me
love her, time is on my side. I am going to
wait her out for another week, but if she doesn't make a
move by then, I will make it for her."
Jennifer gave me
a weak smile. She got up from the couch. "It's getting late."
Taking my hand, she led me to her
bedroom.
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TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18
TUESDAY CAR TALK
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On Tuesday night, September 18,
Victoria and I resumed Car Talk.
Just when Victoria was about to launch into her classic litany of grievances, I interrupted her.
"Victoria, you
are the one who loves to make Lists. Tonight
I have a List for you. I want to explain why moving in
with me is a very bad idea."
Keeping my voice quiet,
I pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her.
1. Disco is dying.
The dance program is in
serious trouble.
2. Unless Disco makes a
remarkable comeback, I do not have the
money to support you.
3. You cannot stand the thought of living in my
house.
4. Your daughter will hate you for making her
leave her home.
5. I do not have a future profession to
turn to.
6. Your husband has an
excellent profession. Have you considered letting him
support you?
Victoria took
one look and tried
to respond, but I cut her off. Raising my voice, I
said, "Let me have my say, please, and then you can have your say."
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When Victoria
hushed, I continued.
"Back in
July, you handed me a List stating your conviction
that
Michael is a top-flight husband. No doubt he has his faults,
but Michael strikes me as a decent man. I believe he
would want to work things out if you gave him a chance.
In addition, your father claims I am a Playboy who cannot be
trusted. You accuse me of reneging on promises, so
obviously you agree with him. Why would you discard a
rock-solid husband for a man you compare to a gigolo?"
Victoria went to
speak, but again I put up my hand to stop her. "I am not
done yet. God has subjected us to three nasty dance
accidents, none of which were our fault. I contend these are omens.
To me, these omens suggest a
committed relationship is
a bad idea. As for my house, you
insinuate that I live in a hovel. While that may be a bit
harsh, when compared to your beautiful home, I get the
point. If you were to move in with me, you would have to accept a
greatly reduced standard of
living. In addition, what are we supposed to do about Stephanie?
Is she coming to live with us? Your daughter will surely resent
me if you leave her father for me. She will resent you for
the same reason. Why would you subject a
child to this kind of trauma?"
Stopping to
catch my breath, I added, "Okay, I'm done."
Just as Victoria
was about to argue, instead she burst into tears. I
felt sorry for her as huge crocodile tears rolled down her face.
Something I said
had
struck a raw nerve because Victoria was a complete mess.
While she sobbed, I took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
This was the most
pathetic
situation I had ever been in.
Last month in my 'Stay with Michael'
speech I had said pretty much the same things I said tonight.
I warned her this would
happen, but she wouldn't listen then. Would she listen
now? While it was true I
had spoken of a serious relationship early in July, once
I had seen how unstable she was, the idea was out of the question.
I refused to budge on her attempts to use my alleged guilt to
her advantage. It angered me that Victoria refused
to acknowledge I had never
made
a
binding
promise to her. Discussion, yes,
Commitment, no. Although Victoria
had been instrumental in building my business, that hardly
translated into an obligation to marry her. Furthermore
I was a single man who was in love
with
someone else. Despite all this, it looked like I was facing a bitter
battle to extricate myself from a married woman
who had no legal or
moral
right to hold onto me.
Nothing about this woman made a bit of sense.
Furthermore, this crying spell had exhausted what little
patience I had left. Enough is enough.
I wanted to end
it right here, but Victoria suddenly
stopped crying.
In a weak whisper, she said, "I'm sorry, Rick, but I have to go.
I don't feel good. I think I am going to throw up.
Something has to give, something has to
change. I just can't take this anymore."
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WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19
THE AGGIE TWOSTEP
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It was
Wednesday, September 19.
Amidst
the drama of Victoria's fractious marriage,
Jennifer's trust issues and my failing business, I
was dealing with the biggest gamble of my life. As I
drove to the studio to practice with Joanne for the
third time, I drew comparisons between my
excitement to learn Disco last year and my nausea
to learn Western now.
Learning
a new style of dancing without a teacher was hard. I
had encountered a similar dilemma when I took
it upon myself to learn how to teach Disco partner
dancing. At the time I had no idea how to
partner dance. Nor did I have a teacher.
Despite long odds I pulled it off. How
did I do that? By living in the Disco
four nights out of seven and watching carefully. Not so with Western.
Assuming that all Western clubs were as disgusting
as Cactus Club,
I had seen enough. And so I vowed never to step into a Western club again.
Unwilling to visit a Western club, I was flying
blind. This gave me no choice but to rely on Joanne. No wonder this
was so difficult. Despite
the striking parallels between the Disco Era
and the uncharted waters of this Country-Western
gamble, there was one incredibly important
difference. Back in the days of Disco, I would
do anything to succeed. Here in the days of
Western, I could care less. What I needed to
do more than anything else in the world was
live in the Western clubs the same way I
had with Disco. But I refused to go.
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I had loved Disco so much
that I vowed to do ANYTHING to save my dance career.
Filled with boundless ambition, I was so determined to succeed I
worked a full-time job by day, a full-time job at
night, then found the energy to
live in the Discos after class for
three solid months. However, based on what I
had witnessed at the Cactus Club, I could not
foresee C&W had much of a future.
The music was awful, the dancing was
boring, the clubs were ugly. I just wanted to get this
Meyerland class over with, then quit teaching for good
when Disco breathed its last gasp.
So here again
the Reader wonders what happened to my 'Walking with
Destiny' insight. There is a difference between
Certainty and Suspicion. I was very Suspicious that I
was witnessing a Fated Event, but I had no idea how it would
turn out. So the best way to describe my approach was
to take a 'Wait and See' attitude. I forced
myself to show up for practice on Wednesday, I forced myself
to go to class on Sunday, and the rest of the time I bitched
endlessly about how much I hated doing this.
That said, every
now and then something would happen to make me step back and
wonder anew if my suspicions about Fate were correct.
At practice today Joanne would hand me the clue that opened
the door to a whole new realm of possibility in the
development of Country-Western dancing. Did I know it
at the time? The answer is 'not exactly', but
it definitely raised an eyebrow. As little Hansel and
Gretel bread crumbs go, this clue was more like a neon sign.
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Our
practice session started the same way as usual. Joanne
begged me to take her dancing so I could see for
myself what the dancing looked like and practice
with her. I adamantly refused.
"Look,
Joanne, I went dancing with you at the Cactus Club
last summer. What I saw was so disgusting I
wanted to vomit. I've seen enough to know I
never want to go near another Western club as
long as I live."
Considering what a jerk I had been towards Joanne
during our visit to the Cactus Club
last summer, I
should have watched what I said. I
knew I hurt her feelings by rejecting
something that was important to her.
Fortunately, Joanne was able to ignore my
terrible attitude, probably because she wanted to
get out of debt. After
our
Meyerland class went poorly in Week Two, Joanne had confronted me
afterwards in the parking
lot.
"Rick, I want you to come back to Cactus Club tonight."
When I
said no way, Joanne let her frustration show.
"All
right, it is obvious you intend to learn
as little as humanly possible to teach this
class. But these people are going to blame
me too when you fall flat on your face.
You let me be
abused by the Disco crowd earlier this year and
now your ignorance is setting me up for more
humiliation. I won't let that happen. If you won't go check things
out, then I guess I will have to do it for you. I've learned all I'm going to learn at the Cactus Club, so I'm going to try a different
club on my way home tonight. Maybe
I can learn something useful we can use."
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Talk about
feeling guilty. Joanne was right about my
attitude. I was not proud of myself.
Once I discovered I was teaching Country to
Non-Country people, I knew immediately they would be
easy to fool. No disrespect intended, but these nice
Jewish
people had never seen Country dancing in their life.
As long as I talked a good game, they had no idea I was a complete fake.
I knew slightly more than they did, but that was
all I intended to learn. Due to my lousy
attitude, I had stumbled my way through two weeks.
Thanks to
my experience at bluffing, I expected to pull
off this wild gamble despite a razor-thin knowledge
of what I was doing.
Strangely
enough, at the same time Joanne seemed determined not to let me fail.
To my
surprise, when we met for our third week of practice,
Joanne handed me a small ray of hope. Her
revelation came at one of our worst moments.
Joanne insisted I learn the Texas Twostep this
week. Assuming she was going to show me that
awful 'Step-Touch, Step-Touch, Walk-Walk' version, I groaned. However,
Joanne caught me off-guard by showing me something
completely different. Befuddled by what Joanne was trying to
teach me, I
lost my patience.
In frustration, I exclaimed, "Joanne,
what
you are showing me makes no sense whatsoever. I don't get it.
This Twostep stuff is a lot more complicated than what you
showed me back at the Cactus Club three
months ago."
Joanne
nodded. "Yes, you're right. There is a reason for that. That was the Old Country.
The Old Country is kid's play compared to New Country."
Old
Country? New
Country? Feeling incredibly stressed, I
stammered, "What are you talking about?"
"There are two types of Western
dancing, the old style and the new style."
Frowning, I raised
an eyebrow. "And you are just now telling
me this?"
Joanne
got angry. "I've told you this before,
but you never listen."
I stared
at Joanne in embarrassment. Now that she
mentioned it, I did remember her saying something.
However, it had not registered. As they say,
it is tough to explain the colors of the rainbow to
a blind man.
"Look,
I'm sorry I bit your head off. How
long have you known there is a different style?"
"I'm not quite sure. In the back of
my mind, maybe for some time now. There's
this new place near my apartment called
Rodeo. Last Sunday I ran into two guys there
who use a more energetic style of Twostep
dancing. They are both from Texas A&M. I
have danced with them before, but I
never quite caught on that they use a different
style of the Twostep than the men at
Cactus Club. It was
not until we began teaching this class that I began to pay better attention."
"So what
is this you are showing me now?"
"This is the Aggie Twostep. I learned it for real
after class on Sunday."
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Rolling
my eyes in disbelief, I replied, "Aggie
Twostep? Why are there two styles?
And which one is correct? Start over. How did
you learn this information?"
"A
few weeks ago I was driving home from work.
I noticed that Ciao, my old Disco hangout
on Westheimer, had
turned Country. Now it is being called Rodeo.
Last Sunday after class, I was getting a little
bored with the Cactus Club, so I
stopped at Rodeo instead. The dancing was completely
different. One of the two guys asked me to dance and
did things I had never seen before. He
said it was something he had
learned up at Texas A&M. I was confused,
so he told me to whisper 'Slow Slow Quick
Quick' as we danced.
That helped a lot.
That's how I caught on. And guess what
else?"
"What?"
I asked hopefully.
"This
guy even danced backwards once in a while. You
really should try to figure out how to go from front to
back and back to front again. I like it when
the guy goes backwards. I get so tired
of dancing backwards all night long."
"I will
keep that in mind. So what do you mean by Old
Country and New Country?"
"Old
Country is what they dance at Cactus Club.
New Country is what this guy did at Rodeo.
Old Country has been around for a hundred years, but
New Country is faster and more fun. Plus the
girls don't have to go backwards all night long.
The chance to go forward is a huge improvement. This guy
told me that's what they all dance up at Texas A&M.
It's sort of like the old-timers do it the easy way
and the young guys prefer to let the girls have
more fun. I told him he was right. I
think you should try hard to learn this
new Twostep."
We toyed
with Joanne's Slow Slow Quick Quick idea for
a while longer, but progress was so slow I
decided to disengage.
"Listen
up, Joanne. I am curious about this idea you have
brought me and I promise to give it more thought.
However, let's stick to Polka for our remaining
time today. I did not do a very good job of teaching
Polka last week, so that's what I need to polish."
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Despite my
frustration, Joanne's 'New Country' observation was good news. It suggested there was
more to Country-Western dancing than I had been led
to believe. However, it was still the blind
leading the blind and I had six more lessons to
prepare for. The stress
of teaching
things based strictly on guesswork was driving me
crazy.
I did not have the slightest idea what the Twostep
and Polka were supposed to look like. What I
needed to do was go
to a club and check out the dancing as Joanne begged me to,
but I
stubbornly refused. I was so preoccupied with
Victoria's ongoing drama that
going to a Western club was the last thing I wanted
to do.
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So Victoria
wants to move in with me. Hmm. As I continue to
say, Victoria was a supreme mystery to me. Her
obsession did not make a bit of sense for a variety of
reasons.
The most obvious
reason was her Husband List. Comparing me to her
husband, Michael was judged superior to me on seven
categories. Were there any categories where Rick was
superior? No. She might have suggested I was a
better dancer, but I guess that didn't really matter to her
in the cosmic scheme of things.
There are
different ways to interpret the Husband List. For
example, in the Olympics second place will get you a silver
medal. However, in a two-horse race second place is
the same thing as last place. On the day in July when
she introduced this List, Victoria went out of her way to
emphasize this point regarding our two houses. She
commented that my house was closer to 100 in a two-house
competition. Not that I disagreed with her.
Victoria was correct. In the tale of two houses,
Victoria had me beat hands down.
My house was 30
years old. Her house was brand new. My house was
in a poor neighborhood. Her house was in a good
neighborhood.
Her house was
purchased based on two salaries (she was a school teacher at
the time). My house was purchased based on a social
worker's salary. I was so poor I had to borrow $500 to
meet the down payment.
Her house was
beautiful. My house was modest, something people would
call a 'fixer-upper'. It was no prize, but at
least the roof didn't leak.
Her house was
brick, my house had wooden walls that were eaten to shreds
by dry wood termites. They had to put a tent over it
in order to fumigate the little monsters.
Back in April, Victoria
announced she was in love with me. Her wake-up
call came when I casually mentioned I was
planting new bushes in my front yard tomorrow. On the
spot, Victoria offered to help me plant the bushes. Sure, come on
over. I think her real
reason was an excuse to see what my house looked like.
One story, two
bedrooms, one bathroom, very small, very plain.
Located in an
economically depressed area known as the Heights, it was not
a slum, but close. I would call it lower middle class.
My run-down house was typical of the neighborhood. She did not say
anything, but I could tell Victoria was appalled. Watching her frown as she compared my tiny bungalow to her magnificent suburban home,
I felt embarrassed.
On the day
Victoria presented the Husband List in mid-July, Victoria announced that my
house was
unacceptable. No surprise there. Her
counterpart Patricia
had said the same thing.
Like Patricia before her, Victoria made it clear
that her perfect figure, sharp mind and beautiful face came
with
a high price tag. I felt kicked in the
gut. Haven't I already been through this with Patricia?
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So I asked her a
question. Victoria knew the condition of my house on
the day she announced she was planning to leave her husband
at the end June. If my house was such a deal-breaker,
why had she pursued me in the first place?
"Damn it, Victoria.
You got us into this mess. If you were worried about
money and my house, why didn't you think about these
things
in the first place? Where was this head's up warning back when you
put your hand on top of mine and told me
you expected to be free of your husband when you
returned from your July 4th Holiday??"
"Things were
different then."
Oh my God.
The
understatement of the century.
Shortly after
this confrontation a student friend named William pulled me aside.
He said, "As you know, I've been dating Mary
from the studio.
On Saturday, Mary invited her girlfriend Victoria
to meet us at the restaurant for lunch. I have to tell you,
I did not like what I heard."
Now what?
Groaning inside, I replied, "Okay,
William, let me have it. What did you hear?"
"I
hate telling you this because I know you have
feelings for Victoria, but she is not one of my
favorite people. While we were at dinner, Victoria
announced that you and she are dating now."
Oh really?
That was news to me. "What
did she say?"
"Victoria said, 'I really do care for Rick,
but I could not live in that little house of
his.' She laughed as she described to
Mary
how run-down your house is.
She also described your neighborhood as mediocre,
implying the right kind of people live elsewhere. The tone of
her conversation suggested your living
arrangements are barely one step
above the poverty level."
William paused,
but when I said nothing, he continued.
"Victoria's
snide comments did
not sit well with me, so I did not respond.
To be truthful, although Victoria has a great
personality, I saw a different side to her that
rubs me the wrong way. In my opinion, I
think Victoria is too materialistic. I
accept people for who they are, not what they
own. I am sorry if I have upset you, but
you strike me as a different kind of person. I
thought this was something you needed to know."
Certain that
William had not made this story up, I seethed at his report. At the time I bought
that house, it was the only thing I could afford on
a social worker's salary. Biting my tongue
to avoid showing my bitterness, I told William I was
grateful for his warning. These Car Talk Negotiations
were not going well. I had not recovered from the Playboy insult
or the Husband List and now I had to deal with this latest slap in the face regarding my house.
This ugly
incident took place back in July. Now here in
September Victoria claims she wants to move in with me.
Did I think she was sincere? No. Talk is cheap.
Based on three months of non-stop disdain regarding my house
and other issues, I had learned the hard way that Victoria
talked a good game, but never followed through. For
that reason I treated Victoria's request to move in with me
as an idle threat. When push came to shove, Victoria
would never leave her beloved home.
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THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 20
APPROACHING THE
POINT OF NO RETURN
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It was Thursday the
20th. I had come within an inch of pulling the plug on
Tuesday only to be thwarted by Victoria's sudden departure.
Now it was time for another Car Talk debate. I crossed my fingers and
prayed my confrontation on Tuesday had deterred Victoria from her
destructive path. I had been hard on her because my softball approach was not working. What I
should have done was told her it was over the moment I met
Jennifer on Labor Day. Instead I had let this farce prolong three
more weeks.
No doubt the Reader
asks how it had come to this. Why didn't I
walk long ago?
To be honest, I always expected
Victoria would come to her senses before it was too late.
Her position was hopeless. You know it, I know it,
anyone with a brain could figure it out. So why couldn't Victoria see it?
She was determined to force a man who did not love her and did
not
want her into a committed relationship.
During the summer Victoria had used her value
at the studio to bend me to her will. Now, however,
she had exhausted that leverage.
By quitting Camelot,
Annabelle's, and private lessons, in essence she had deserted
the dance program. Victoria had been scheduled to teach
four classes a week
in September. Neither of her Thursday classes made, so she
assisted me instead. That meant she was down to two
classes on Tuesday. One of her Tuesday classes was due to
graduate at the end of the month, so in October she would be
down to one class.
I had so many open time slots of my own that I no longer needed
Victoria to teach for me. I could just as easily teach her
remaining Tuesday class myself in October. Knowing Victoria
was soon to be out of a job, that is why I
did not lower the boom in September. Since it was going to happen
automatically at the end of the month, why not give her every chance to step away
of her own free will?
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Unfortunately,
so far Victoria had shown no willingness to leave.
Instead she thrashed about looking for someone to rescue
her.
Now that
Victoria had alienated her
husband, she was reduced to demanding I
bail her out. Tough, my sympathy was exhausted.
I
was only cooperating because I
accepted partial responsibility for Victoria's dilemma.
Friends
don't walk away from friends. But was she even a friend anymore? Last
Tuesday as Victoria sobbed, I
asked myself where we had gone wrong. I
recalled Victoria's hints of love in April,
Dance with the Devil in May, European Arrangement in
June followed by a declaration she was planning to leave her
husband. Then came Cold Feet in July,
her father's Playboy comment and
her hurtful
Husband List in July.
How could I forget
Moonlight Madness and Darya's
adultery talk beside the country club swimming
pool? And
what about this awful Dance Curse? I still simmered with bitterness
every time I remembered how Victoria chased Joanne and
Patricia out of my life. These memories irritated
me no end. And now she was determined
to move in with me. Unbelievable.
Victoria had once been the heartbeat of
the studio. Now
she barely
had a pulse. I was
not sure her
Sunshine personality still existed.
As
it stood, the only thing binding me to Victoria was my
conscience. The woman had asked
for time, so I gave it to her. However,
the arrival of Jennifer in my life had removed
all remaining
patience. Right now I was just waiting
for her Victoria's last teaching night on Thursday, September 27, one
short week away. So long, farewell, adieu, let the nightmare
be over.
To Victoria's chagrin, Michael was out of patience just like me.
What husband tolerates
an entire year of his wife's infatuation with a job that took
her out of the house three, sometimes four nights a week? What
husband tolerates an entire summer of watching his wife consider leaving him?
How did he tolerate having his wife sit
with me alone in the car night after night? Why should he
trust her? Throughout September, Michael had argued with Victoria on a nightly
basis. He knew damn well his wife was thinking about leaving him, so
why prolong this agony? Bitter?
Of course Michael was bitter! Who
could blame him? No doubt
Michael said some hurtful things in retaliation, but
I
doubt seriously he had done anything to deserve this tragedy. The
crazy part is that Victoria's Husband List rated him as a
superior husband. Not
only that,
he was a loving father and a great provider. Surely you
ask what is her problem. I asked the same question night
and day. I suspected Michael cared a lot more about Victoria than she wanted
me to believe. From where I sat,
Michael
was a decent man who got a raw deal. Now the poor
guy was at his wit's end
and unsure what his next step was.
Considering how important Security
and Comfort was to Victoria, what woman in her right mind
would choose Rick over Michael? What
on earth could possibly be driving Victoria to think leaving
Michael made a bit of sense? As a
mother, Victoria owed it to her daughter to
decide which situation was better for the girl.
Victoria would be out of her mind to leave the
security of her home and marriage. But
that was exactly the problem... Victoria was
out of her mind! WHAT OTHER
EXPLANATION COULD THERE BE? In her condition, she
clearly needed someone to take care of her
before she had a complete mental breakdown.
However, I was not the right guy. My heart
belonged to Jennifer. And so, with a heavy heart I opened
Victoria's car door and climbed in for another night of
hot air futility. To my chagrin, Victoria immediately brought up the subject
of moving in again. I vigorously shook my head 'no',
but Victoria was undeterred.
"Michael does
not love me anymore. He does not want me anymore.
He blames Stephanie's crying spells on me and says the girl
would be better far better off if I simply left the house."
"I don't agree. My childhood was ruined by my parents' nasty divorce.
In addition I spent four years investigating broken homes
through my Child Welfare job. If there is one thing I
learned, children are badly hurt when parents fight.
The worst scenario comes when the mother leaves the
home and takes the child with her. The better solution comes when the father leaves
and allows the child to stay with her mother in her own home.
There are no winners in this situation, but children do better
when they stay in their own home. Or do you want Michael
to have custody?"
Victoria shook
her head vigorously. "No. I am her mother. Stephanie
should stay with me."
"So what's the
problem?"
"Michael
says this is all my fault and that he does not deserve to be
thrown out of his own house."
"Michael is right.
This was not his fault. But Michael is also wrong [assuming
Victoria was telling me the truth]. Michael is smart enough to see
that his daughter will be better off staying in her own house
with you while things get straightened out. He can always visit at night and spend
the same amount of time with the girl as he does now. His
constant presence will comfort her and he
can leave when she goes to bed."
"That is all so
very sensible, but you are forgetting something."
"What is that?"
"I love you too
much to let you go. I want to be with you, I want to
wake up in the morning with you , I want to..."
Love? Give me
a break. With that, I lost my
temper. "Stop it, Victoria, just stop it!
You are not moving in with me and that's final! If you
wish to legally separate from your husband, then do what you
have to do and we can talk
after that. But moving in with me will not solve your
problems. I am tired of
watching you go around in circles. It
is time for you to come to your senses."
Well aware I would
explode if she said one more word to irritate me, I got out
of the car despite her protests. We had reached the Point of No
Return. Next Thursday has to be Victoria's last night at
the studio.
If this goes on any longer, we will all end up in the loony bin.
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