Kitty, you are one smart cookie. I can see where you are coming from with your suggestions, and I am way ahead of you. Gerry and I have never been “one,” so to speak, financially. We got married when I was 40. At the time I owned outright my own home and my own business, and I was not one cent in debt. I still have enough cash invested to keep me afloat for a year or so. I suppose that Gerry might want to dump me if I press charges on his brother. That would absolutely break my heart, and I can’t imagine how I could survive such a thing. On the other hand, I’m disabled. How much you wanna bet I’d get the house, which I already own half of. And how much do you wanna bet he’d have to pay household expenses and utilities because he is a working business owner, and I am no longer able to support myself.

I married Gerry 23 years ago. He is a wonderful man, and I love him more than I can tell you. But if he thinks that I am going to stand for one minute being treated this way he is sadly mistaken. My handicap van? Mine. I paid cash for it. I’m not going to say that my mamma didn’t raise any fools. She did. I’m just not one of them.

So how come this tough old broad can’t stop crying?

I’m going to go build myself a bubble bath. The kitties will line up along the edge of the tub and look at me as if I were crazy to even touch water. It’ll be fun. Perhaps I’ll even get sleepy, but I’m not going to force myself. I have plenty of time. Gerry won’t be home until Wednesday. He has already called once wanting to know when I’ll be with the three of them down in Florida – just as if nothing happened. I let the call go to voice mail. He has no idea what’s going on, and I want it to stay that way until I visit with the police on Tuesday. He knows I am safe, he just doesn’t know where. Perhaps he needs to miss me for a while, ya think?