Ann

I sit alone in this dwelling

That once I called my home

The night seems long and lonely

In every room I roam

In this house were voices

Of laughter and of tears

But now there is just silence

And loneliness and fears

Dreaming of a chance

To somehow turn back time

I sit and think all through the night

In loneliness of mine

In morning light, I’ll leave

The kingdom-home I’ve known

Afraid to face the future

And the great unknown

~ Gemini Joe ~

ou and Joey moved to Texas and Diane married Tom. The only one left in the house was Lisa. Your mom stayed in the den watching television all the time. I guess she was depressed, too. I couldn’t sit around like that so I went to the bar every day.

There was this bartender, named Ann. She was an attractive woman with short black hair. Her personality was up, and she made me forget my problems. She had her own. As a single mother, she struggled for money and rented out rooms in her house. She was very patient. Feeling down, I went to talk with her.

“Hey, Gemini!” someone yelled out when I walked through the door. That alone, made me want to stay on Long Island.

I had thought about getting a divorce from time to time, but whenever I brought it up, it shook your mom up. That’s when she suggested we would have it better if we sold the house and moved to Pennsylvania. We had land up there. I thought, maybe we could give it a chance. We put the house up for sale. I hardly had time to get used to the idea. The house sold much sooner than I expected. I was having second thoughts, but it was too late.

Ann seemed to sense something was wrong as soon as I sat down. She poured a shot of scotch and set it in front of me.

“What’s wrong Joe?”

“I sold my house today,” I said, and emptied the glass.

“Why did you do that?”

“I promised my wife I’d move to Pennsylvania.”

“You said you weren’t happy with her.”

“I’m not, but we’re trying to work on our marriage.”

“Well then, what’s the problem?”

“She found a house in Pennsylvania that we could rent because our new house won’t be ready until next spring. I don’t want to leave.”

“Why don’t you send your family to Pennsylvania now and join them later?”

“I’d love that, but where would I stay?”

“You can stay with me,” she said. “One of my tenants just left and I have an empty room. Besides, I need someone around the house to help with maintenance.”

It was a snowy day when your mom and Lisa left to go to Pennsylvania. I stayed behind, but promised to drive up a week later. With each day that passed, I dreaded the trip. Before I left, Pennsylvania was hit with a big storm and I couldn’t leave. Within a few days, the roads were clear, but I didn’t go.

“Where are you, Joe?” she asked when I finally called her.

“I’m tied up right now,” I said. “I don’t know when I’ll be there.”

Every week, I had a different excuse. Your mom told her sister. They thought I was going to skip off with the money from the Elm Street house, but I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to leave Long Island.

I guess she got nervous because she decided to come back to Long Island. I convinced her to let me find another house and she agreed. The same real estate agent who sold our old house found another one only one town away, in Wantagh.

We went back to Long Island. It wasn’t the same though. I really regretted selling the house in Massapequa. Believe me I tried, but things weren’t getting better between your mom and me. Lisa was a teenager and getting into all kinds of trouble. I couldn’t handle it so I spent a lot of time at the bar with Ann.

While I was gone, my sister in-law called to tell me my brother Victor was in the hospital. He had the same cancerous tumors that killed my mom. The doctors opened him up and then stitched him back together and sent him home. He asked to see me, but I didn’t get the message until it was too late. I felt so bad about that. Victor died before I could see him. I cried to Ann and she was so good to me. She said, “Joe, why don’t you just divorce your wife and move back in with me.”

I went to the courthouse and filed the papers, then watched as the sheriff rang the doorbell and served your mom. I don’t know what I expected to see. Maybe I got a little satisfaction that she was upset, I don’t know. I waited a while after the door closed, giving her enough time to absorb the news, and then walked through the front door to find her sobbing at the dining room table.

“Look,” I said. “Neither of us is happy. It’s about time we put an end to this marriage.” I packed my clothes and walked out the door. I’ll always love your mom, but I couldn’t do it anymore.