My Wife Cared for My Comatose Mother for Three Years. Then I Divorced Her

1.

After my wife spent three years nursing my comatose mother, I couldn't stand it anymore and asked for a divorce.

All I'd asked was for her to look after someone, and somehow she'd wound up reeking of old age.

On top of that, she went ages without washing her hair.

Every time I took her out, my buddies gave me grief.

"You get yourself a wife, or a mother?"

I'd had enough. I demanded the divorce.

But she just smiled.

"Fine, let's divorce."

"I don't want the kid or the house. All I want is a share of the marital property we built during the marriage."

"From now on, our son and your mother are yours to take care of."

That reaction was so obviously her playing hard to get.

I let out a scoff.

"Don't come crawling back later, begging."

She didn't even turn her head. She just walked out.

...

With her out of the way, that evening I brought a young, pretty secretary along to the party instead.

My old classmates and buddies looked at me with plain envy.

"Clarence Sawyer, you lucky dog. Is this the new wife?"

"Damn, way better looking than the last one."

One of the guys came up and nudged my arm.

"You and your wife really over for good?"

I nodded, my face full of distaste. "Had to be over. You all remember what Joy Sanchez used to look like."

"She was a real beauty back in the day. Then she had the kid and her figure went to hell. Got fat as a pig."

"Never mind that she stopped taking care of herself. She even smelled like my old mother, that old-people smell all over her."

The moment I said it, plenty of them pinched their noses and waved a hand, like they knew exactly what I meant.

A few more chimed in to back me up.

"Before, since she was your wife, we didn't like to say anything."

"Good thing it's over. The way she looks now, she's really no match for a man who runs his own company."

"For men like us, the woman on our arm should be a real beauty, like your secretary here."

I basked in the flattery. Bella Cross leaned into my side, her slender hand trailing lightly across my chest.

I could smell that tempting scent of hers, clear as day.

My hand crept up to her waist on its own.

She let out a soft little sound and sank into my arms. My buddies were egging us on, and just as I was about to kiss her, my phone rang.

The good mood cut short, my temper flared. I put it to my ear and snapped, "Who is it?"

"Say what you've got to say, and make it quick."

Turned out it was Joy.

I frowned, contempt flickering in my eyes.

"Regretting it already? And here I thought you were so tough."

"Too late for regrets."

"I'm not agreeing to get back together with you."

To my surprise, she just laughed on the other end.

"What are you dreaming about? I'm calling to tell you there's no one to look after your mother today."

"You can go yourself, or you can hire an in-home caregiver. Your call."

"One more thing to remind you. Our son gets out of school at four. Don't forget to pick him up."

"I've handed everything over to you now. Anything goes wrong, it's not on me."

The words sat wrong in my ear, no matter how I turned them over.

Whatever. It was just looking after people. How hard could it be?

Have my fun first.

I pulled Bella into my arms and was about to pick up where we left off when the phone rang again.

This time it was the hospital.

"Is this Ms. Dickerson's son? Ms. Dickerson still hasn't done her rehab session today. Where are you?"

"The exams these past couple days found fluid in Ms. Dickerson's lungs. Family needs to help clear it out by hand. Please get to the hospital as soon as you can to assist."

Whatever heat I'd worked up was completely gone in that instant.

"What a hassle. Fine, fine, fine, I'll come right now."

"It's just looking after someone. What's the big deal."

If Joy could do it, I sure as hell could too.

I pushed Bella off, straightened my clothes, told her to head out first, and drove to the hospital.

The nurse was already waiting for me. The second I walked in, a wall of urine stench nearly drove me back out.

Pinching my nose, I forced my way inside and frowned at the nurse.

"Why does it reek like this?"

"Didn't you people take my mother to the bathroom?"

"I paid for this. Is this how you take care of people?"

2.

The nurse gave me a strange look.

"Have you actually never been here to take care of your mother?"

"She's wearing a catheter bag. That smell is from changing it."

Another sideways way of saying I was a bad son.

I stiffened, then rushed to explain.

"My ex-wife used to look after her. I was the one earning money for the family."

"If I hadn't been out making money, with my mother in this state, how would she even afford a hospital bed?"

I couldn't tell if the young nurse took any of that in.

Either way, she dropped the subject.

She started teaching me how to do my mother's rehab exercises.

She lifted one leg, and I followed with the other.

Age had probably caught up with my mother; she gave off that old-person smell. It wasn't that I looked down on her, I'm just sensitive to smells.

Holding her leg and working it back and forth, I really could barely keep it together.

After only a few reps, I called Joy Sanchez.

"Why didn't you come do the rehab for us today? I've got a really important meeting."

"My people are chasing me on this, so you"

She cut me off.

"Clarence Sawyer, we're getting divorced. That's your mother, not mine."

"Didn't we already settle this on the phone this morning?"

"Or is it that you can't handle it?"

I ground my back teeth.

This was the first time I'd ever seen her so quick with her tongue.

"I'm giving you a chance here. Since you don't know how to value it, forget it."

"I was even thinking, if you'd come back and keep doing your duty as a daughter-in-law, I'd pay you an extra two hundred an hour."

I'd asked around. A caregiver only earns two or three hundred a day.

Joy turned it down flat.

"Didn't you say your mother's a clean freak, that she doesn't like strangers touching her?"

"I'm a stranger now too. The only one who isn't is you, her own son."

"Take good care of her. Don't contact me unless it's necessary."

The call cut off again.

I was so angry I wanted to smash the phone, but in the end I held back.

I thought it over, then called Bella Cross.

"Come down to the hospital. I'll bump up your pay."

She wouldn't do one hour of work, so I'd find someone who would.

These days, who ever complains about too much money?

Bella arrived fast, a coy little smile on her face.

"Boss, why'd you call me all the way to a hospital?"

"You really shouldn't, here of all places..."

I cut her off and pointed at the room.

"Your chance to make it official is here. The paperwork with my wife is already in the works. You cover for me and look after my mother for a while, and once it's finalized, you'll be my wife, fair and square."

"From now on, whatever you want, I'll give you."

The smile froze on Bella's face. She looked at the room, then looked at me.

"Boss, are you joking?"

My expression darkened.

Why was this woman dragging it out so much?

"Do you know how many women want to be Mrs. Sawyer? And I'm giving the chance to you alone. You'd better appreciate that."

"Once you're Mrs. Sawyer, you'll understand. For any woman, money is the greatest tonic there is."

That got to Bella.

She looked at the room, then walked in without another hesitation.

I pulled out a cigarette, meaning to step out to the corridor for a smoke. I'd barely taken a few steps when Bella came running back out.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and cried.

"Boss, boss, my stomach hurts."

"I have to run to the bathroom first. The nurse says the next round of exercises is about to start, so you go help out for now."

"I'll be back in a bit and take over right away."

By the time the full rehab session was done, she still hadn't come back.

I felt like I'd been steeped in that smell until it soaked all the way through me.

I stepped out of the room and only then found her waiting at the door.

There was a takeout meal in her hands, guilt on that pretty little face.

"Boss, I think something's wrong with my stomach. I'm so sorry I couldn't help."

"I know you've been taking care of Auntie this whole time, so I got a courier to run over to that big restaurant you love and pick this up. You must be worn out. Come on, have a taste."

The fury that had almost boiled up to the top of my head scattered completely in that moment.

She lifted a bite of food to my mouth.

The anger I'd been storing up finally eased off a little.

I opened my mouth, just about to eat it, when another call came in.

"Hello, is this Hunter's father? Hunter's the only child left at the preschool. When are you coming to get him?"

I gripped the phone, the fury climbing higher and higher, and the second I hung up I called Joy.

"What kind of mother are you? Our son is all alone at preschool. You can't be bothered to go get him?"

On the other end there was easy, soothing music and the clink of glasses.

"Clarence Sawyer, if your brain's stopped working, go see a doctor."

"Do I really need to repeat what I said on the phone earlier?"

My whole body went rigid, and I quickly changed my angle.

"He's still your son, after all. I just finished taking care of our mother. Couldn't you find the time to go"

3.

"Didn't I get through it the same way back then?"

"When I first took over caring for your mom, didn't I call you too?"

"And didn't you refuse to bring our son home for me?"

For a moment I felt dizzy.

When Mom slipped into her coma, Joy had been caring for her, and the early days meant rehab exercises. By the time she finished, it was already almost too late to pick up our son.

So she'd called me.

"Clarence, I just finished Mom's rehab exercises. I honestly don't have the strength to go get our son."

"Could you leave work half an hour early today and pick him up?"

I'd refused outright.

"You're his mother. I'm out here working myself to the bone to give you and the kid the best life possible."

"I asked you to do one thing, look after my mom, and now you're too lazy to even pick up your own kid?"

"If it were me, I could take care of Mom and pick him up at the same time, no problem."

I remembered now. I remembered all of it.

My face went stiff with shame.

"Forget it."

"I'll go myself."

I grabbed the car keys and headed out, not even hearing Bella call after me.

The drive was half an hour, but traffic backed up on the way, and by the time I reached the preschool it was already six in the evening.

My son's lead teacher didn't look happy.

"Mr. Sawyer, next time could you give us a heads-up if you're going to be late?"

"I have a family too, a kid of my own. This late, and I don't even know what time I'll get home."

On any other day, a line like that would probably have set me off, right into an argument with her.

I paid good money for her to look after my kid, and now she was griping at me?

But today I was too worn out.

I just didn't have the energy.

I waved it off. "Got it. I'll come earlier next time."

Back home with my son, I flipped on the lights.

The house was empty.

Like no one lived there at all.

My son sat on the couch, hand pressed to his stomach, quiet and sullen.

"Daddy, what are we going to eat?"

"I'm so hungry."

I went and dug through the fridge.

Back when Joy and I were fighting over the divorce, the fridge had gone bare.

She hadn't even bought groceries, just dragged her suitcase out the door.

Which was why the fridge was still empty now.

I called Bella.

"Bring some food over to my place. I want dinner."

Then I tossed a few bags of snacks at my son.

I ducked into the bathroom to rinse the smell off my body.

Just as I finally couldn't smell that old-person odor anymore, the doorbell rang.

Bella walked in carrying a fancy dinner she'd had packed up.

Soft and slinky, unbearably tempting.

"Boss, want a candlelit dinner?"

"Neither of us has had a proper bite all day."

Of course I wanted it.

But before I could say anything, my son came thundering over.

"Wow, a fancy dinner! Daddy, I'm so hungry, I want meat!"

Bella's face froze on the spot.

"B-boss, is the lady of the house home too?"

"Isn't this a little awkward for me?"

I took the food and pulled her inside.

"Didn't I already tell you? His mom and I are getting divorced. Once it's final, you'll be Mrs. Sawyer."

"Hunter will be your son."

"Set out the food."

Two steaks, two plates of pasta, and some dainty little sides.

Best of all, she'd even brought red wine.

The wine sloshed in the goblets as she sat beside me, the mood thick and suggestive.

Once he'd eaten his fill, my son ran over and tugged at me.

"Daddy, Mommy's not home, come play with me."

The goblet tipped, and a good splash of wine spilled onto my bathrobe.

The mood ruined, I felt a flare of irritation.

"Go by yourself."

"You keep this up, and I'll have the police come take you away."

He pouted, let go, and went off to play with his toy cars in the living room.

With the mood pretty much wrecked, I wiped the wine off myself. Outside the window, the wind suddenly howled up.

Whatever was left of the mood scattered.

After dinner I put my son in his room. Outside it had started pouring.

Bella hadn't left. She'd changed into a sexy purple nightgown, teasing me at every turn.

"Boss, this outfit, who wears it better, me or your ex-wife?"

In the dim yellow light and the pull of the alcohol, Bella looked downright irresistible.

I swallowed hard, a fire in me burning hotter the longer it went.

"You, of course."

"That old woman doesn't come close to you!"

I scooped her up and threw her onto the bed.

Her soft, coquettish little squeal in my ear made me itch all over.

Just as I reached to yank off the nightgown, lightning flashed outside again.

Someone pounded on the bedroom door.

My son was wailing.

"Waaah, it's so loud out there, is the police coming to take me away?"

"Waaah, I want Mommy."

You know what it means to trip over a stone you set out yourself?

This was it.

I opened the door and let him in.

Bella was already straightening her clothes, and knowing nothing was going to happen now, she walked out of the room.

I ground my back teeth, hauled him onto the bed, and snapped, "Sleep. You're ruining your old man's good time."

"Make one more sound and I'll have the police come lock you up."

4.

But the words seemed to do the opposite.

It was like they'd scared him. He cried on and off all night.

Even asleep, he mumbled through it:

"No, no, don't grab me, don't grab me."

"I want Mommy. I want Mommy."

His arms and legs wouldn't stay still either. He kicked me a few times, and when I shoved at him, I couldn't shake him awake no matter what.

Late into the night he finally stopped crying, but his whole body was burning up.

I jolted awake, reached over and touched his forehead, and it scared me.

"He's on fire."

I grabbed my phone and called Joy first thing.

"Our son's running a fever. Can you come back?"

"He's had me up all night. If I don't get some real sleep, it's going to wreck how I show up at work tomorrow."

"You're his mother, at the end of it. You should take some responsibility."

Joy's voice was cold.

"If he's sick, take him to a hospital. I'm not a doctor."

"And if you keep calling me three times a day like this, I'll block you."

"You're his father. Don't make me look down on you."

I swallowed it.

"The hospital, sure, easy. I was only giving you one last chance to be around your son."

"You don't want it, then don't count on seeing him again."

"Don't blame me for not giving you the chance."

Silence stretched out with no answer.

I glanced at the phone. She'd actually turned it off.

Anger set my head buzzing in waves.

"Joy, that's real nice. Real nice of you."

"You'd better not regret this!"

I picked up my son and knocked on the door of Bella's guest room.

Bella heard it and got up in a hurry, striking some seductive pose.

I took one look and threw the clothes in my hand at her.

"Cut the act. Get dressed and come to the hospital with me. My son's got a fever."

"Move it. I'll drive, and you hold him in the back."

Her face darkened, but she didn't say anything, just followed behind me in sullen silence.

She stayed with me while they drew his blood and gave him the shot.

By the time we'd dragged through to morning, I checked the clock. My son was still on the IV.

I scratched my head and stood up.

"Take today as a day off. This is the same hospital my mother's in."

"Once my son's shot is done, remember to go look in on my mother, then this afternoon do her rehab exercises with the nurse."

"Hunter's not going to preschool today. Remember to call in for him."

But what I didn't expect was this.

I'd been at the office barely an hour when I got a call from the police.

"Hello, is this Mr. Sawyer?"

"We've found your son, along with an unidentified person. Could you come down to the police department?"