Our Story

Where to start this whole convoluted story? Do I go through the back history, like Carey? Do I make it short and sweet, like Monsty? Do I throw in the couple of other guys in the middle, like Nutzy? Do I bring up the whole car angle, like Lightsy? That’s right folks. The Momma story has all of that. Plus a couple of kids, a dog, an ex-husband, and my father living with me thrown in the mix.

Alright….a bit of history. I walked out on my husband on July 4, 2001. Independence Day – in more ways than one. Our marriage had never been easy, truly happy was not the way I would have described it at all. I can’t say I regret it and I’d probably do it over again. But at 19 sometimes the ideals and dreams you have just don’t work out the way you thought they should. Anyway, I packed up me and my kids and moved about 40 miles away from the first house I’d ever owned. Kayla was 14 months old. Devin was almost 3 ½.

Right after Christmas, I ended up moving me and the kids back into the house due to my ex’s financial stupidity. I got a call at work one day from the mortgage company saying the house was about to be foreclosed on because he hadn’t made a payment in three months. Fucking idiot. Of course, I had my apartment and my bills and my car note and two kids I was taking care of. No, he wasn’t paying child support at that time. And since I was the co-signer on the house note, I wasn’t about to let it foreclose. I couldn’t afford to make his house payments and my apartment bills, so I moved back to the house for 3 months to get him caught up again. We lived in separate bedrooms and had totally separate lives. I swear, it was the most bizarre shit I’ve ever done. I hated him for it too. The kids and I had a good little life going in the apartment complex. We were happy, we’d made new friends, life was going good. I’d started the divorce process and I’d even begun casually dating a guy.

So, on April 12, 2002, the house was caught up, I had a bit of money stashed and I’d just signed a lease on another apartment in town about 20 minutes from his house and 3 minutes from my job and the kids’ daycare. One of my girlfriends and I decided to go out and celebrate at our local hangout/country redneck bar. We had a huge group of friends meeting us up there and I was NOT going to be the designated driver that night. *grin*

So it’s April 12, 2002. How do I remember the date? Because I spent that Friday afternoon signing the lease on my apartment in Rockwall. I was back in “town” and I was thrilled to be back away from my soon to be ex. I started dealing with Legal Aid in earnest at this point, more convinced than ever that I wanted, no, needed this divorce to happen and soon. The only hold up in the process at that point was T (my ex) refinancing our home. I wanted my name OFF that mortgage before the divorce was final. That was my only condition to finalizing the divorce. But I’m getting ahead of myself. T was keeping the kids that weekend and I was getting the apartment ready and our stuff moved. I went over to my girlfriend’s house to get dressed and showered and all that. We headed out to the Junction for a night of fun.

I can’t remember how much I’d had to drink that night, but I know it was still fairly early – probably around 10 or so. Kathi and I were making our rounds around the bar checking out cowboys and wannabes, talking to friends and just having fun. We’d been out on the dance floor a few times with friends and acquaintances. And as we walked past the main bar area, I saw him. He was leaned up against the outside of the bar area talking to another guy I knew. I made Kathi stop and we stood there and pretended like we were talking. I had her check him out, too. Then I walked up to him and told him his ass looked really damn good in those Wranglers. Yep. That was my smooth opening line.

But it worked. We introduced ourselves and started talking. I don’t remember what happened to Kathi or the guy he was talking to, but they both disappeared and reappeared several times between the time I met Larry and the time the bar lights came back on. We (Larry, Kathi and I) all left at the same time…but in three separate vehicles. I went to Larry’s with a promise to call Kathi in a bit.

**TMI ALERT** We went back to his house and talked. And made out. And damn near had sex right there on his couch within hours of meeting.

Then we exchanged phone numbers, I called Kathi and told her I’d be at her house in a bit and realized it was nearly 5 am. I called Kathi back and told her nevermind, that I was going to the apartment since it was a bit closer than her house. Suddenly, I was flat ass exhausted.

So, I went to the apartment and crashed on the floor on some blankets. I woke up around 10 and started cleaning. About noon my phone rang…and it was Larry. He ended up coming over to the apartment and helping me clean that afternoon. We talked and talked and talked. Around 6, he asked if I wanted to grab a bite to eat, since I had NO food in the apartment. So we went out – looking all kinds of icky since we’d been cleaning all day. After we ate, he dropped me back of at the apartment, kissed me and went home to take care of his Yellow Lab.

I finished moving all our stuff and furniture and whatnot in on Sunday and Monday. We talked daily and saw each other regularly for about 2 months. Then…….

He started to ask me about meeting my kids. Now, mind you, my divorce is not final at this point. My ex wouldn’t or couldn’t re-finance the house and I refused to sign the divorce decree without that being done. I had also never let anyone meet my kids up to this point. I didn’t want to let them get attached to someone that might not be around for more than a couple of months. And in all honesty, I still wasn’t confident that Larry and I would last longer than a few months. I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, I wasn’t even sure I wanted one. Hell, I’d only been on my own with the kids for a year. So I kept putting off having him meet the kids. And he got frustrated with me because of it. As he put it at the time, he was frustrated because I didn’t trust him enough to combine my two separate lives. And he was right. I just couldn’t do it at that point. We ended up splitting up, but remaining friends. We knew too many of the same people not to remain friends. Plus, we ran into each other several times over the course of the next few months. EVERYONE we knew hung out at the Southern Junction on weekends.

I started dating a mutual friend of mine and Larry’s named…..Larry. Yeah. It was weird. Did I mention the guy before? His name was Darrell. Yeah. That was strange too. I actually let Larry #2 meet the kids. Don’t ask me why, other than we had been friends for a good while before we started dating and it was a casual thing. He never stayed over when the kids were there and we kept it quite innocent with the kids around. Hell, I’m not sure they ever knew he was more than a friend.

The summer wound up and I got a call from my dad. Now, my dad is not exactly the most stable person you’ve ever met. I love my dad dearly and he was my world after my mom died. But neither of us have ever been the same. Dad was pretty well out of my life by the time I was 13. But that’s another story for another time. Dad and I had been in contact for about 6 months, maybe a little longer at this point. He was living in Kansas City and had married a woman who…well….could have been my sister for all the age difference between us. They had a very volatile, unhealthy relationship and her three kids didn’t help any. At this point, my dad had been out of drug rehab for about 3-4 months and that marriage was not helping his recovery efforts any. So Michele kicked him out and he called to ask if he could come back to Texas and stay with me for a month or so til he got back on his feet. Of course, I wasn’t one to say no to my dad, especially in a position like he was in. So Labor Day weekend, my dad moved into the two bedroom apartment the kids and I shared. I took Larry#2’s truck to the Greyhound station to pick up Dad, his three suitcases and boxes. Dad became my live-in maid and nanny. He also got a job at the company I work for.

October, November and December came and went. Larry#2 and I went back to being “just friends.” Somewhere around in this time frame is when Sonya and I started hanging out again. * waves to Sonya * We met Steve, who I sorta kinda “dated” but never did sleep with. He was another of those not so financially responsible types that I seemed to attract. Sonya met Max, who I swore up and down was so very much not her type. * shakes head at stupidity * And Larry and I were still friends. Then Steve ran into some financial issues (again) and had to move out of his place. I think this was in the November time frame. By December, I had hooked him and Larry up because Larry was looking for a roommate to share the bills with. Somewhere between January and February, Larry and I wound up back together. I honestly could never have told you, even then, when or how it happened. I guess with Steve living with Larry and Steve being one of my hangout/drinking buddies, I was around Larry more and more. And we just kind of fell into a relationship again. I let him meet the kids, who loved him right away.

In January, Dad was still living in the apartment with me. I bought my 1997 Ford Explorer. Larry bought a 2003 Dodge Ram pickup. My divorce was still not final. My ex had still not refinanced the house. My ex was still not paying child support, even though we had a temporary order for support with the courts. And life was moving along. In March, we had Larry’s 30th birthday. I bought him a t-shirt from Sheplers that said…. Well, it was a crass redneck tshirt that fit his personality perfectly. * grin * And after that, we were inseperable. The kids and I started spending the night at his house. Steve moved out due to some financial strains between him and Larry. And on Mother’s Day weekend 2003, Larry took me to his Dad’s farm to meet his dad and stepmom. That Saturday night was the first time we ever said “I love you”

June came along and fucked my whole world. The mortgage companies (yes, there are two. One for the house and one for the land) called me at work within 24 hours of each other. Both were foreclosing on the house. The house was 3 months behind in payments. The land had not been paid on in over 2 years. How either let it go on so long, I’ll never understand. But they did. So I called my soon to be ex and basically told him he had 10 days to get his shit and get the fuck out of MY house. It took about 48 hours of fighting, screaming and lawyers to get him to understand exactly how serious it all was. Of course, my lawyer drilled the final nail in when she explained to him that since he’d been giving me the cash and I’d been the one to actually write out the check on my bank account for the house mortgage he didn’t have a leg to stand on. In all reality, he did, but he didn’t have a lawyer and well…he’s stupid.

So by mid-June, the kids and I broke our lease on our beautiful little apartment that we all loved and moved back into the house. Goddamn. That house was in awful shape. I took my ex 3 days to move out after the lawyer explained to him that it was in his “best interest” to let me have the house. I spent almost 6 full days doing nothing but cleaning that house top to bottom, repainting, scrubbing walls, etc. I swear, never in my life have I scrubbed walls and had the bucket of water look like a mud puddle after a Texas rainstorm. I did that week in every friggin room of the house. The grass on our acre and a half was waist high. There was no real path left to get into and out of the house. It had all grown over. So we (Larry and my dad and I) cleared the front part of the yard and mowed it the best we could with two push mowers before we moved in. And in we moved. The kids had their bedrooms back, I had two bathrooms and a huge kitchen, the kids had plenty of room to run and play (once the yard was mowed back down and cleaned up), and Dad had his own little area to live in too.

The rest of 2003 went by and life was good. Larry and I were actually talking marriage and thinking it might not be a bad idea. But both of us, me especially, were pretty gun shy about the whole idea.

January 2004 was quite interesting. Dad found his wings and decided it was time for him to fly again. And off he went. It was difficult, as the kids had really grown to expect him around and loved having Paw Paw live with them. But, it was for the best for all of us, in the end. Dad went off to Nashville, then Tampa, then Baton Rouge and last I heard from him, he was back in Houston. Still clean and sober, too. He’s finally making peace with a lot of his demons from 25 years ago when Mom died and everything that has happened since.

A couple of weeks after Dad left, Larry and I decided to move in together. His lease was up in February and we couldn’t see him signing another one year lease renewal. So, we decided that he’d do it on the first weekend of February, which coincided with my annual girls weekend to go see George Strait perform. That year we went to Shreveport. I got home from a long drunken weekend and my house was a wreck! There were boxes and crap everywhere because he didn’t want to put anything in the wrong place. I laughed so damn hard at him for a week over that. We finally found places for most of his stuff and donated a lot of duplicate things to the homeless shelters. A few friends benefited too.

Since I’d moved back to the house, I’d given up the only thing that was keeping the divorce from being finalized. And my ex didn’t dare request the same thing of me. Unfortunately, the move back to the house required the divorce process to be started all over again since I was now in a different county. And my lawyer doesn’t practice in the county I now reside in. Ugh. But, in August 2004, it was finalized. 3 years and 1 month after dipshit and I split up.

Fast forward a bit to Christmas Eve, 2004. The kids were with their dad. Larry and I were home alone and decided to make it a romantic evening. We lit a fire in the fire place and just sat there in the dark talking about family and friends and life and all sorts of things. I got up to refill my Jack & Coke and when I came back, Larry had this funny look on his face. Next thing I know, he pulls a ring box out of his pocket and proposes. Of course, I said yes.

Now, before you start thinking it was all sweet and romantic, I have to give you the “Behind the Scenes” glance. He bought the ring the day after Thanksgiving while we were shopping with his dad. I had gone off in one direction to look for some things his stepmom had asked me to pick up for her while she was at work. Larry and his dad had gone off in another direction under the pretense of going in search of their two favorite things - automotive and electronic crap. I ended up running into them as they were leaving the rings. Larry said something about his dad looking at earrings for his stepmom. I should have known then that something was up. His stepmom is quite particular about her jewelry, but I never thought twice about it.

The second tip off should have been my son. Around Thanksgiving, the Rottens had started planning our wedding. Yep, they had it planned long before we ever actually decided we were going to get married. And about once a week, they’d start asking when we were going to have a wedding. Well, one night, Devin started his questioning and Larry took him off into our bedroom. Turns out, he showed Devin the ring and told him to keep it a secret because it was my Christmas present. And the little shit did!! Afterward, he so innocently explained that you aren’t allowed to tell people what their Christmas presents are, Mom. Duh. * rolls eyes *

The third clue that I’m a complete and total idiot? Larry put the ring under our mattress in our bedroom. On my side of the bed. And I slept on top of it (or my pillow did) for nearly a month without ever realizing it.

And so, on June 18, 2005, we were married.