-1All belong to Janet E. I wish Ranger was mine, but alas he's not so I must return him eventually. Just a short in my head that wants out.
Shades of Gray
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Shades of Gray
Sung by 'The Monkees'
By Barry Mann and Cyntha Weil
When the world and I were young,
Just yesterday.
Live was such a simple game,
A child could play.
It was easy then to tell right from wrong.
Easy then to tell weak from strong.
When a man should stand and fight,
Or just go along.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
I remember when the answers seemed so clear
We had never lived with doubt or tasted fear.
It was easy then to tell truth from lies
Selling out from compromise
Who to love and who to hate,
The foolish from the wise.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
It was easy then to know what was fair
When to keep and when to share.
How much to protect your heart
And how much to care.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
Only shades of gray.
Stephanie walked into her parent's house fresh from court. Her divorce from the dick head was final. It wasn't pretty at all. There was yelling back and forth, but the female judge had no stomach for cheating husbands, especially one's who were still in the newlywed stage. Dickie's jaw hit the floor when photographs were produced showing him and Joyce on the new dining room table, at a motel on several occasions, and on the sofa in her home. Also, copies of the phone records from the secret second cell phone he had hidden and credit card receipts. After coming home after a client meeting slightly sloshed and passing out right on the bed, Stephanie went to answer his ringing briefcase one night.
"Hi, Doll." Stephanie recognized her nemesis' voice immediately, "I know you can't talk but I got your message. I'll see you at the Starlight at eight tomorrow." Stephanie grunted hoping to sound like her cheating husband. It confirmed what she suspected after only a few short months of marriage.
The cell phone records showed he picked up the phone three months after they were married and the calls started shortly after.
And, Joyce Barnhardt had the nerve to show up at the court room. Judge Adams gave the skank to the count of two to get out of the courtroom or be physically removed to a jail cell. She knew when to get out.
Dickie retained the house, but he had to reimburse Stephanie for all the money she contributed to the down payment to purchase their house, furnishings for the house, return all her personal belongings including wedding gifts from her family and friends. Her car was purchased before their marriage so it was hers even though Dickie's attorney argued he made payments on it. The kicker was he also had to reimburse Frank Plum for the wedding which he paid for because it appeared to the court Mr. Orr had no intention of being a faithful husband and duped Stephanie and her family only wanting a 'trophy' wife to promote his career. She promptly deposited the cashier's check in her own account and had one for her father. She went with her attorney and removed her remaining items right after court. Her Camry was filled with the items she wanted, the things she didn't were at a consignment shop. Her engagement and wedding rings she sold at a pawn shop.
Her attorney called just as she pulled n front of her parent's house. The partners at 'Robinson, Carter, & Robinson' was so appalled at the conniving horse's ass, he was fired returning to his office because he wasn't the type of lawyer they wanted to represent one of the biggest firms in the Trenton and Philadelphia areas. Probably the flyers Stephanie posted on telephone poles around town of him and Joyce on the dining room table didn't help either. At least she had a job and her attorney insisted payment be in the form of cashier's checks so they couldn't bounce. Those probably took a big chunk of his extra cash. It also gave her some satisfaction, her ex-husband had his eyes on becoming District Attorney one day, but Trenton always remembered a good scandal.
"Well, there she is my divorced daughter," Ellen Plum greeted her newly single daughter. "You just couldn't hold on to him could you?"
"I was cheated on if you remember! I have the evidence," Stephanie waved photographs at her mother.
"Sometimes you need to look the other way. Marriage isn't always perfect. You have your head in the clouds too much, Stephanie! That art stuff you're involved in won't get you anywhere and you can't go around buying panties all your life for a department store. What man will want to marry you? You're supposed to stay home and raise a family."
"Maybe for you, but I want more, Mom! I don't know if I even want children."
Ellen Plum just looked at her younger daughter. She could try her patience, "Every woman wants to have babies. Look at your sister, Valerie. You need to be more like her."
"I'm not Valerie!"
"If you were a better wife, then Dickie wouldn't have had to turn to someone else for satisfaction. Every woman needs a man to provide for them so they can stay home to have babies. You need to realize that, Stephanie, before you get too old."
Stephanie knew this was a losing battle, "I just turned 23, Mom." Her hands on her hip in classic 'Burg' fashion, "I don't need a man to take care of me. I'll see you," dropping an envelope on the tabletop next to her father's recliner.
"I don't need a man," she told an empty car driving off to her apartment. "Yours isn't the only way to live. It's not black and white or chiseled in stone that Stephanie Plum will ever get married again and pop out kids, Mom. There are lots of shades of gray and colors in between to make me happy. You'll see." Her Mother since she was a small girl was always critical of her free spirited daughter and it just got worse as she grew older. It was bordering on epic now that she was divorced.
Stephanie continued working as a lingerie buyer for E. E. Martin and her free time was spent in front of her drawing table until it was perfect or on her computer. Finally after many revisions and reworking her drawings, using Mary Lou's three young boys as her first critics and visiting her creative writing professor at Douglas College, one of the few classes she excelled at while there, she was done. Satisfied with her final project, she dropped several large brown envelopes into the mail slot as snow was falling. Now comes the hard part, waiting.