I started to run my fingers down the pages and pages of the reservation book. It was incredible that every table was booked all night long. I turned to the next day, and that day was booked as well. I was excited and nervous, knowing all these people were coming to try out the new hot spot in town. We had 30 minutes before the doors opened, and we would seat our first guests. The GM called all staff to the bar area for a pep talk. I looked over and thought to myself, ‘Look what we have accomplished in a year.’ A fully remodeled restaurant, all maroon walls with gold and platinum albums everywhere, jellyfish tanks behind the bars, black tufted booths, and three teppan tables ready to serve up the fun. I looked over at the pep talk that was taking place, seeing all the staff in black shirts that had our logo on it. I smiled, thinking, ‘This is really going to happen. Tonight, it’s going to happen tonight!’
I walked over to the sound system behind the bar and played a custom CD that was made for opening night. It had all the great hits on it. I hit play and turned it up. The doors opened, and people flooded in. Some went to their seats, while others hit the bar excited to look at the jellyfish tanks and soak in the ambiance while ordering a martini from our long list of martinis. As the night went on, it got busier and louder, with a wait 2 hours long, and no one seemed to care because they wanted to be part of the fun. I walked around the restaurant, helping out the staff, clearing tables to seat the next reservations, making sure everything was perfect for the next guest.
My GM walked over to me and said, “You know you have staff for that, and the more you help out, the less they will do.” I couldn’t help it. I had been in the hospitality business for so long that I wanted to help, to be part of it all. I wanted to help the hostess, the expo, bring out drinks to tables, and talk with the patrons. I never felt that I was above the staff because I was an owner. I wanted to feel like part of the staff.
As I walked through the dining room area, I felt a hand grab mine and a tug at my arm. There I was, sitting on my husband’s lap. He had been sitting at a four-top with some friends, enjoying the evening and success. He looked at me, smiled, looked around, then back at me, and said, “We did this. Aren’t you excited? All this hard work from the last year has paid off.” It was really hard to look at him and be excited with him. All the work over the last year was not only putting this restaurant together, but also trying to save my marriage and raise two babies while pretending I’m strong and can handle it all. And I’m not allowed to raise any questions on what he did because those were the rules to have him back.
It was two weeks before Thanksgiving. I ended up sick over the weekend, and David was out with his friends downtown. The kids were playing in their rooms; it was a Sunday afternoon. I was ready for him to come home. I was actually irritated that he was even out while I was in bed sick. He’s always gone on tour, “writing music” in LA. Why couldn’t he just be home with me? Why didn’t he want to be home with me? So I called him and asked him to please come home and help me. I never wanted to be the nagging wife. I always wanted him to live out his dream and do the cool things rock stars do, except for the cheating. I never wanted that. So I called, and he came home. That was the day that would forever change everything. He came home, sat at the foot of the bed on this leopard bench we had. He leaned in, looking at me, and said, “I want a divorce.” Not “How are you feeling?” or “Can I get you anything?” Just, “I want a divorce.” My heart sank because I knew he was not kidding. He said he had been thinking about it for some time and that he even went to therapy about it. And it wasn’t me; it was him. He realized he was young when we got married and that he had a great career right now, and he wanted to take full advantage of being a rock star. Yes, he said those exact words. He wanted to date movie stars, the models. He wanted to live his life with no regrets. You see, I had pushed all the things he’d done to me to the very back of my mind. Did I know for sure that he was not cheating on me? No. But there were plenty of signs, and I just never wanted to believe them. I truly thought he would never cheat on me. He couldn’t. Maybe he thought about it, maybe got close, but he wouldn’t actually do it.
dontforgetthemascara.com 