When Lisa’s husband, Tom, begins hounding her about having a second job, she gets skeptical of his cause. Lisa finally gets a job after becoming fed up with his nagging. When Lisa arrives, she discovers a terrible secret about her husband.
In our home, I am the one who makes the most money. It wasn’t an issue previously, but my husband Tom has suddenly been urging me to take up a second job.
“You don’t even leave the house to work, so you cannot possibly be as tired as I am at the end of the day,” Tom said.
“But you’re a mechanic, Tom,” I retaliated. “You run your own business. And you take three days off just because you have people to do the job.”
“Let’s just table this conversation,” he said dismissively.
We did, however, put the subject on hold for a few weeks. I hoped he wouldn’t bring it up again since I didn’t understand why we were having this conversation.
“Are you struggling financially, Lisa?” my mother inquired when I mentioned Tom’s offer for a mother-daughter pasta date.
“No, not at all,” I replied. “Look, we’re not difficult people, we’re not fancy, so our lives are easy to manage and sustain. It’s the fact that Tom was really pushing for this.”
“Do you think his business isn’t doing well?” she asked, sipping on her drink.
“That can’t be it,” I replied. “I’ve seen the number of cars that come in and out on a weekly basis. It’s enough to turn a profit. And he’s been employing new staff constantly. That’s also a good thing.”
“Then what is it?” my mother asked.
“I have no idea,” I said, adding more grated parmesan onto my pasta. “But I do know that I don’t have the time for a second job. I cook and clean in between sitting at my laptop. I do groceries during my lunch breaks, and I take the dogs to the vet or whatever during those times, too. I just can’t see it working out.”
“You have to tell him, darling,” my mother said. “You have to make it known that you cannot take on an added responsibility that’s going to leave your cup empty.”
Everything was well until we decided it was best to sell my automobile and purchase a new one.
“I told you, Lisa,” Tom said over dinner one night. “You need to get that second job.”
He sliced through his steak, his knife grinding against the fork.
“Why me?” I asked, incredulous. “I already work long hours, and my job is exhausting. I have to look at a screen the entire day and pay attention. By the end of the day, my eyes are sore and my brain is exhausted. And then I have to worry about dinner and laundry and everything else.”
“Your job is easy, Lisa,” he replied. “You’re trying to make it seem worse than it is. You work from home, remember? You don’t have to leave this house. And you don’t get as tired as I do because you’re not getting beneath cars every single day.”
I was stunned.
“Why don’t you get another job? You can do it on the days you have off!”
“Because, then, Lisa,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, “I’d miss bowling with my friends!”
He expressed it as if it were the most rational reason in the universe.
Seriously? It seemed like the most ridiculous explanation in the world to me.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll look around.”
My husband looked as if Christmas had arrived early.
“Good,” he said. “That settles it.”
I watched as he took up his plate and set it on the kitchen counter, not bothering to empty the rest of the food into the garbage.
If he wanted me to get another job, I would. But I knew he’d dislike what I had in mind.
The next day, as Tom was leaving for work, he came into my home office.
“Don’t forget to start looking for a job,” he said. “And try harder with my work overalls, Lisa. There are some grease stains that refuse to come out. It’s embarrassing.”
With that, he left.
“Goodbye to you, too,” I muttered as he walked away.
Then I visited the bowling alley website. Tom and his friends would play there. I’d always questioned why they frequented the small establishment because it was dark and unwelcoming to me.
“Oh, come on, Lisa,” Jill said. “We both know that Tom and Marcus go for the waitresses in the short dresses.”
Marcus was Tom’s best buddy; Jill was his wife. We were all invited to the bowling alley for the venue’s anniversary, and after Jill and I saw it, we never went back.
My strategy was straightforward: obtain a job at the bowling alley for the night shifts and make my husband jealous enough to regret his offer.
On my first day at the bowling alley, a Wednesday, which was Tom and his friends’ weekly bowling night, I inquired if he wanted to go bowling.
“Are you going to the bowling alley tonight? Do you want to have dinner at home before you go?” I asked casually, as I made some breakfast.
“Yeah, probably,” he said, not looking up from his phone. “Make some fish and chips or something like that.”
“Fine,” I said with a smile. “See you there!”
His eyes eventually met mine, and bewilderment flashed across his face, but he shrugged it aside.
“Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for,” I said to myself as he walked out the door.
That evening, I arrived at the bowling alley wearing my new uniform, a tight, short dress that left little to the imagination. I couldn’t imagine that my husband would be okay with me wearing such a thing.
“I’m sorry about the uniform,” Ursula, the manager, said. “I’ve tried to make changes and even add stockings or leggings to it, but the owner is adamant that it stay like this.”
“That’s just a sick thought,” I said.
I worked the drink stall, periodically reaching over to fry the little donuts that were popular among the teenagers bowling.
I noticed Tom arrive alone and begin playing by himself. The males became noisy after the first hour, when the adolescents began to leave to fulfill their curfews. As expected, the men started hitting on me.
Finally, my husband noticed me, and his eyes darkened as he observed the attention.
“What the hell, Lisa?” Tom stormed over, eyes blazing. “What are you doing?”
“I’m working, Tom,” I said with a smirk. “You wanted me to get a second job, remember?”
“This isn’t what I meant!” he yelled.
“Well, I’m getting great tips,” I retorted.
My husband clinched his jaw.
“Quit. Now,” he barked.
“We need the money,” I said, walking away to serve another table.
Tom returned to bowling, not wanting to create a larger scene. But I knew the instant my shift ended, he’d be back on the subject.
He glanced at me every few minutes.
About halfway through my shift, Ursula approached me.
“Is he bothering you too?” she asked, nodding toward Tom.
“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.
Ursula gave a heavy sigh.
“That man has seduced almost all the waitresses here. One even had his child two weeks ago. I heard that she’s after him for child support now. Apparently she did a paternity test to prove it and all.”
I knew Ursula had no notion I was married to Tom, so there was no reason to lie or hide the truth. What she had just told me was a previously unknown version of Tom.
So that’s why he urged me to obtain another job. He asked me to pay for his child support.
I walked over to Tom, disregarding the other customers.
“You’re a ᴅɪsɢᴜsᴛɪɴɢ human!” I screamed, slapping him hard across the face.
“What the hell, Lisa?” he yelled, holding his cheek.
“You’ve been involved with the waitresses here?! And one just had your baby?” I spat, tears streaming down my face.
Tom’s face went pale.
“I can explain,” he mumbled.
“I don’t care,” I replied.”I don’t want to hear it. You will pack your things and get out tonight. Tomorrow, I will file for divorce.”
I stormed out of the bowling alley, my heart broken. Who was the man I’d married?
What would you have done?
