In which Primo gets an annulment

January 2008 Primo's divorce from Isabel is finally done. All the delays because the lawyer was having elective surgery and didn't tell Primo and didn't bother to have anyone backing her up in the office and because Isabel sent in the wrong papers and nobody from the lawyer bothered to tell Primo and because Isabel told the lawyer that she and Primo weren't getting divorced after all* are over.

Now we can work on the annulment.

Isabel is not going to be happy about this, Primo warns me.

But she didn't even bother to get her first marriage annulled before she married you, I point out. She and her first husband married in the Catholic Church, but when they divorced, she didn't file for annulment. She obviously didn't care whether about being involved in the Catholic Church - she had been attending a Presbyterian church for some time. Why would she give a darn what the Catholic Church thought about her marital status?

Isabel and Primo married in a Presbyterian church, Isabel in full white regalia, I might point out, even though it was her second marriage and she had two daughters. Not that it's any of my business what someone wears in her wedding but do you do the whole muffin thing the second time? No, this isn't about whether the dress signifies virginity (ha - like anyone thinks that any more). But wouldn't it have been more financially prudent to have a simple dress?

I do some research. Primo talks to the canon lawyer at the diocese. Turns out that unless he has to have a big formal annulment,** the kind where they examine witnesses and take statements and can drag on for months if not years, Isabel does not even have to know about this.

Turns out that Primo can have a documentary annulment, which is basically a "You didn't follow the proper procedures to get married in the first place so the marriage never existed" thing, kind of like committing fraud on your life insurance application (lying about smoking or medical conditions) and the insurance company invalidating the policy later.

With Primo and Isabel , the procedures they violated were 1. Isabel never got her first marriage annulled and 2. they were married in a Presbyterian church. Not that the Catholic Church thinks that Presbyterian marriages are not valid, but if you are Catholic, you have to be married in a Catholic church for it to count.

If you have a documentary annulment, the other party does not have to agree. Does not even have to know about it. Maybe the thinking is that if the other party cared about being considered married in the eyes of the Catholic Church, the other party would not have created the conditions necessary for a documentary annulment in the first place.

I do all the work to get the annulment going. I track down Isabel's baptismal certificate. Isabel's marriage certificate from her first marriage. A copy of Primo and Isabel's wedding license. We complete the application for annulment.

We make a big mistake.

We put Isabel's address on the application. Because they ask for it and we are too dumb think it through.

When I submit the application, I tell the office manager at the diocese both over the phone and via email that Isabel is not to be contacted. That if she has to become involved, Primo will call her first. That she has cancer. Is not happy about the divorce. That we do not want her to hear about the annulment from the diocese.

The annulment is approved in two weeks. The same afternoon that we learn about the approval, Primo gets a phone call from Isabel . "You f---! You're despicable!"

Primo is gobsmacked. How did she know?

Oh. Our helpful friend at the diocese, whom I had told repeatedly NOT TO TELL ISABEL. He sent a letter to Isabel .

I call him and ask what the heck had happened?

Oh, he knew I had said not to send a letter but he had sent one just in case we needed the formal annulment. You know. To be efficient.

Thanks a lot.



* Oh yes. She did.

** Which Primo has categorically said he will. Not. Do.

In which I realize I should have been my usual interfering, bossy, know-it-all self even though it probably wouldn't have made any difference

Rule #1 for getting a divorce: Get a lawyer, get a lawyer, get a lawyer.

Rule #2: Get a lawyer.

Rule #3: Get a lawyer.

Do not do a mediated divorce. A mediated divorce is when a lawyer says, "I'll draw up the papers once you two reasonable adults who both want a divorce agree on what you want." The lawyer will not advise you in any way. The lawyer will not look out for your interests. Will not say, "By statute, this is how much alimony your ex-wife should get. This is how the assets should be split."

Get a lawyer. Get the meanest lawyer you can find. Do not try to be nice.

There is no such thing as "two reasonable adults" in a divorce. No such thing.

One of you wants a divorce, the other one does not.

If only one of you (Primo) wants a divorce, the other one (Isabel) has nothing to gain by agreeing to the divorce.

See the problem?

Primo files for divorce. He moves out three years before I meet him. I am not a homewrecker thankyouverymuch.

Isabel ignores him. She doesn't want this divorce. Primo is ruiningherlife. And she wants to stay on his health insurance. She would have to pay for health insurance* ($150/month for a $5,000 deductible) if she agreed to divorce. Or get a job.

Rule #4 for getting a divorce: No wxyz until he has actually finalized the divorce because otherwise he is not at all motivated to get it done. Really. I tell him no divorce, no wxyz.

I think, "This will motivate him to get this divorce done."

I also think, "How can I wxyz with a married man? That goes against all my morals!"

Yes, my morals are already shot to heck with pre-marital wxyz with other men (two), but I have to draw the line somewhere.

Apparently, my line can be erased, because Primo is a really good kisser and hey, he has filed and he has been separated for three years and it's not like they're living together or have kids together or anything.

A year after we meet, Primo and Isabel are still not divorced. Isabel is "not ready." I bite my tongue. I remind myself that this is Noneofmydamnbusiness. And really, it is not. Primo and I have not yet decided to marry. Sure, we have talked about it. He told me within six weeks of meeting me that he was in love with me and was Serious About Me.

I wasn't so sure. I was not ready to give up my independence. I like my space. I had to be convinced. But I do have that effect on men, you know.

So I stay out of it. It's not until spring of 2007 that Primo really starts to push Isabel. He and I are serious marriage talking and we need to get this done, especially as we have discovered that we will have to wait six months after the divorce is final to marry. Stupid stupid state law. No, there is no way around it. We have looked.

Isabel has no reason to sign. He has already given her their house. He is sending her money. He has been paying for her health insurance. He flies to where she lives and pretty much stands over her until she agrees to sign the papers. "I'll do it, I'll do it!" she says.

And then she says - cough! cough! - "I don't feel well!"

She goes to the doctor. "I can't sign papers and go to the doctor at the same time!"

Wants to wait for some labwork. "I can't sign papers and wait for labwork at the same time!"

Guess what?

She has cancer.

This weird cancer. A cancer that is not staged, will not put her in the hospital at all, and if you can call a cancer a mild cancer,** then this is it.

Now she really doesn't want to sign. So Primo re-works the agreement and offers her more money because why on earth would she sign a divorce agreement when she has cancer?

Sure, Primo could re-file, get a lawyer and take her to court, but how would that look? A man divorcing his cancer-stricken wife? Can you say John Edwards but without the hair, the illegitimate baby and the used-car salesman sleaziness? Did you know there are lawyers who specialize in cancer divorces? We couldn't take that chance.

So we're stuck. We're stuck paying way more alimony than we ever would have had to pay by statute. We have a bitter ex-wife who asks for more money at tax time*** and when her cat is sick.****

All for the want of a good lawyer. And an interfering, nagging girlfriend.


* Kind of like what I am doing.

** I know I am coming off as an unsympathetic you know what here, but my dad died of non-Hodgkins lymphoma. It was eight months from diagnosis to death and I was with him most of that time. I saw what a painful in-hospital, on morphine drip, spread to the lungs and spine, lose half your weight, wearing diapers cancer death looks like. Isabel has had her cancer since 2007. She has not been hospitalized once. She pitched a fit, played the cancer card and kept Primo from walking Claudia down the aisle at Claudia's wedding - from even attending the wedding. She has to wear a wig. Sue me.

*** We say no, honey, you're an honors grad from a top university that Primo paid for. Read the divorce decree

**** Primo is a sucker for that one because it's his cat, too. Isabel got custody. I say Isabel can get a job.

In which Primo discovers it's important to read the fine print

Once upon a time, Primo, who is one of the nicest guys in the world, and who went to college when he was 16 years old, and was graduated a few days before he turned 20, and who was not shall we say, wise to the ways of women, especially women who might be on the lookout for a Nice Guy with High EP*, met a woman.

Primo had not had many dates. He'd had crushes, especially on Sally, who led him on a merry chase, always teasing, teasing, teasing, if you know what I mean and I think you do. I will say this: Sally is doing much better now that she is on lithium, but she did just recently start an affair, divorce her third husband and marry her fourth (the two in the affair tango), all in just five months, leaving Primo to muse that although Sally is probably the best kisser he has ever kissed, she is also the biggest bullet he has ever dodged.

I might be putting words into his mouth, but he undoubtedly feels that way, don't you honey?

Primo met Isabel . Isabel was cute. I've seen the photos. Adorable. Petite, cute little figure. Pretty face. Pretty smile. And she had two cute daughters. She needed to be rescued. Primo is a rescuer. He has had that tendency beaten out of him, although I have to remind him occasionally that even though he might be accustomed to being around incompetent or mentally ill women, I ran my own life just fine for the 42 years before I met him and I am perfectly capable of putting dishes away without his supervision. Or of washing them. Or of paying bills. Or of buying groceries.

But I digress. Primo was still in the rescuing business. And Isabel was cute. And probably talked a good game. She was in sales. Told Primo she had some hotshot job. Sure, she lived with her mom, but that was so the girls had some stability. She said.

They married after nine months of dating.

Despite Sly and Doris' advice against the marriage.

You just knew they'd be against it, didn't you?

But even a stopped clock is right twice a day.

Isabel was 36, Primo was 24. They'd known each other just a year. They did not go through any pre-marital counseling at all.

See any red flags?

Here's what Primo discovered after they married and what would have kept him from marrying Isabel had he known:

Isabel ex didn't pay child support and she had no intention of pursuing it, even though it was in the divorce decree.
Isabel had never gotten a social security number for her ten year old daughter.
Isabel's fancy job? Yeah. Not so fancy. She made almost no money and was mooching off her mom.
Isabel had not filed a tax return for the past several years.
Debt.

What do you do when you are 24 years old and you've made a huge mistake but you are an honorable man and you have made a vow that you intend to keep because it's not just you and Isabel but there are also two little girls who are depending on you now? How many years do you help the girls with their homework and make their breakfast and their supper and take them to school before you finally say, "Enough?" because their mother is not what you thought she was?

You stay married way too long. You don't get an immediate annulment or a divorce.

Of all the places you visit your friend and college roommate Sam as he moves in his career, the only one you don't visit is Cincinnati, which is the one place where he and That Woman, who is a friend of Sam's from their on-campus college job, happen to be at the same time post college, which would have been the only opportunity post college for you and That Woman to meet when you were still in your 20s. You didn't meet in college because you were drinking and That Woman had a boyfriend, so she was busy doing other stuff.

Hence, you and That Woman don't meet until your 20 year college reunion, three years after you and Isabel separate. Now burned, you have learned your lesson. You date three years before marrying. Go to pre-marital counseling. Talk, talk, talk about the money. About everything.

If only you'd met sooner.


* Earning Potential, which is what young engineers in Silicon Valley were back in the day, the day being the late 80s.

In which Primo is barred from Claudia's wedding

June 2008 Claudia, Primo's older stepdaughter, is getting married in August. We have been waiting for the invitation, but have not gotten anything yet. Odd.

I met Claudia for the first time that March. I wanted to hear all about the wedding but she seemed reluctant to talk about it. I couldn't figure it out. Finally, it hit me: Claudia is a lovely young woman. Well mannered, sweet. Probably because Primo did most of her raising.*

"Claudia," I said. "It would probably be uncomfortable for your mom [Isabel , Primo's ex] for me to be at your wedding,** so I certainly don't expect to be invited. But I love to talk about weddings, so please tell me what you have planned."

Ah. That was the key. She spilled, in her quiet, timid way. The wedding was to be at a winery. Primo loves wine. Lots of friends and family Primo hadn't seen in a while. Isabel's mother, who loooooves Primo, would be there.

So. We are waiting for the invitation. It hasn't arrived. "Call her," I urge. "Maybe it got lost." We know Claudia wants Primo there. A year ago, when she and Steve got engaged, she asked Primo to walk her down the aisle.

He calls. Comes downstairs.

"Isabel doesn't want me there."

"What?!"

"Isabel. She's mad at me. She told Claudia not to invite me."

This is the Isabel who got probably one of the most generous divorce settlements evah.***

Why is she mad at Primo?

Because Isabel, who married her first husband in a Catholic church, then got a divorce, then married Primo in a Presbyterian church without getting her first marriage annulled because she cared that much about being Catholic, saw that I had her marriage to Primo annulled. Which took about two weeks because 1. she married Primo without getting her first marriage annulled and 2. she married Primo in a Presbyterian church. So it wasn't even the hard kind of annulment, for those of you who know anything about annulments.****

Basically, her marriage to Primo was declared invalid in the Catholic Church, which was something that she obviously hadn't even cared about to begin with.

And she was mad about it.

And willing to punish her own daughter to get at Primo.

What a lady, huh?

The good news is that her little stunt kills Primo's lingering guilt about the divorce. May it rest in peace.



* More about all that later. Primo and I have just completed the negotiations about what I can talk about with respect to Isabel and Le Divorce. Not that there is any love lost with Isabel , but Claudia and Chloe are sweet and Isabel is their mother. You know.

** Primo and I met at our 20 year college reunion, a few years after he and Isabel split. I am not a homewrecker. But that doesn't mean Isabel wants to see me.

*** Rule 1 of divorce that we learned way too late: Get the baddest, meanest lawyer you can find. Do not have a mediated divorce.

**** They can drag on for years and go into every detail of your married life.