He thought he'd get somewhere with Ricky. His boy, Ricky. They'd been talking more. Well, he'd been planting a bug in Ricky's ear, a bug to convince him that Sharon's idea of divorce and adoption was insane. It didn't take much to get Ricky on board. He loved his mom; Jack knew that. Jack also knew that if he painted a pitiful story, Ricky would come home to check on things, talk some sense into Sharon. That kid loved his mom. He wouldn't love the idea that Sharon was going off the deep end-divorce, adoption, Flynn-whatever that was going on. Ricky mentioned he'd heard Andy's name in conversation, but he knew Andy was a friend, just a friend, Sharon had told him. Jack added that to the list of things that were so unlike Sharon, so unlike the mom Ricky knew. He painted a picture. It was Jack's last attempt to keep his marriage intact, a marriage in name only now, but still. It was the only way to keep that final hold on Sharon. If Ricky didn't get through to Sharon now, no one would.
"Dad, she's happy, and this adoption is happening. Sorry, but she's set on it," Jack read his latest text message. He sighed as he put his phone down. Ricky hadn't even been able to get through to him. He picked up the phone, and he sent a message back.
"Thanks for trying. I'm still worried about her. She works too long and hangs out with the guys from work all the time," he said, trying to get any information he could from Ricky.
"I spent the last couple days with her. She had to work late with a case, and yes, that was frustrating, but she has a really important job. She's the boss, and that's always tough. I was at her office a few hours helping them with a computer issue and talked to a lot of the team. I spent most of my time with Andy Flynn-one of them had to stay with me and monitor the computer, and he got that job. He and Mom are friends, and he gave me a lot of info on her. He thinks she's doing just fine. I know you aren't a fan, but he's with her a lot, and he said she's doing well there. I wasn't so sure and questioned her myself, but after she chewed me out, I'm seeing that she is fine. Andy likes Rusty too, which surprised me from what you'd said about Rusty. Mom and I got into it about Rusty later, but we're okay now. Dad, I think Rusty is okay, and I don't think he's hustling her anymore. I spent time with him, well, she made me, but he's okay. She's done, Dad. I don't think you can do anything more, but at this point, please, please, just let her have the divorce. You know Mom, and once she's set on something, it's done. Please, for us, don't fight this now."
There it was again, that name, Andy Flynn. Jack's fists balled up and turned red from the pressure. That guy. He'd even spent time with Ricky, his son. Andy Flynn. He was spending time with his wife and now his son. Jack wanted to flatten Andy Flynn, but right now, Jack wasn't in any shape to drive. He'd had a couple of drinks, drinking the bad day away, as he read text after text coming in from Ricky.
"When do you head home?" he'd asked Ricky. "Sorry I haven't seen you on this trip. I've been busy, but we could try lunch tomorrow."
He waited for Ricky to reply; he was in no shape to call him either, and his "been busy" comment really was him busy with a bottle of alcohol the last few nights Ricky had been in town. His phone alerted him to a new text.
"Can't," Ricky replied. "I'm having lunch with Mom. She invited me to lunch. Actually, Andy invited me to lunch, a thank you for helping with the computer, and so, I'm going to lunch with Mom and Andy tomorrow. My flight leaves then at 4:00. Breakfast?"
Jack threw back another swig of the bottle after that comment. There was that name again, a name he wanted to curse, a name he was holding responsible for the demise of his marriage. Jack had tried, but every time he turned around, the name of Andy Flynn was creeping in. Flynn was like some sort of oozing liquid; he just kept appearing in every conversation, and he was never really gone. As he thought back to Ricky's text, he sighed. He was in no shape now to see Ricky early in the morning, so he just said, "Sorry, early court case."
Jack had lost. He was a betting man, and he'd lost. He was a trial attorney, and he'd lost this round. It hurt; it stung. Sharon was done with Jack. It was early August, and within a few months, they'd be divorced. He looked at his old, worn wedding ring, and he took it off. He put it on the table next to him, right beside the bottle he was consuming. Some people's whole world was in their spouse, their family. Jack's was in the bottle. Funny, the two were sitting side by side, bottle and ring. He'd taken the ring off, and as he sat there looking at it, he had a choice, a choice to pick up one and go on. He picked up the bottle and continued to drink the night away in silence.