A Late Farewell: A Goodbye on the Journey Home

**Late Farewell: A Goodbye on the Way Home**

After kissing his mistress tenderly goodbye, Philip Carter got into his car and drove home. He paused for a moment outside the flat, taking a deep breath, rehearsing in his mind what he would say to his wife. He climbed the stairs and unlocked the door.

“Hello,” said Philip. “Eleanor, are you home?”
“I am,” answered his wife, emotionless. “Hello. Right then, shall I fry the pork chops?”

Philip had promised himself hed be direct, firmno beating around the bush. A man of action! It was time to end this double life while the warmth of his lover’s lips still lingered, before the grind of routine swallowed him whole again.
“Eleanor,” Philip coughed, steadying his voice, “Ive come to tell you we need to separate.”
The news was met with unsettling calm. Eleanor wasnt one for hysterics. In happier times, Philip had even called her “Eleanor the Ice Queen” for it.
“What do you mean?” she asked, still in the kitchen doorway. “Should I not fry the chops?”
“Thats up to you,” said Philip. “If you want to, do; if not, dont. Im leaving. For another woman.”

Most wives would erupta plate hurled, perhaps, or a scream of rage. But Eleanor wasnt most women.
“Oh, what a tragedy,” she murmured. “Did you pick up my boots from the cobblers?”
“No,” Philip admitted, thrown. “If its that important, Ill fetch them now!”
“Look at you” Eleanor muttered. “Same as ever, Philip. Send a fool on an errand, and hell bring back old shoes.”

Philip bristled. The grand scene hed imagined was crumbling. Where were the tears, the shouting, the righteous fury? But what else to expect from a woman as cold as Eleanor the Ice Queen?

“I dont think youre hearing me, Eleanor!” he said, raising his voice. “Im leaving you for someone else, and youre talking about *boots*!”
“Exactly,” she replied. “Unlike me, you can go wherever you like. Your boots arent at the cobblers. Whats stopping you?”

Theyd lived together for years, but Philip could never tell when Eleanor was serious or mocking. At first, it had been that very composurethat quiet strengththat drew him in. Not to mention her striking beauty and no-nonsense manner.
Eleanor was solid, loyal, unmovable as a slab of granite. But now Philip loved another. Loved with passion, sin, and sweetness! It was time to cut ties and start anew.

“So, Eleanor,” Philip declared, solemn yet bitter, “Im grateful for everything, but Im leaving because I love someone else. I dont love you anymore.”
“Fascinating,” said Eleanor, unfazed. “Doesnt love me, poor thing. My mother fancied the neighbor, my father loved dominoes and whiskey. And lookI turned out just fine.”

Arguing with Eleanor was pointless. Every word from her carried weight. His initial fire waned; he no longer wanted a fight.
“You really are incredible, Eleanor,” Philip said bitterly. “But I love someone else. Love her with passion, sin, and sweetness. And Im leaving, understand?”
“Who is she?” asked his wife. “Not Tanya Mills, surely?”

Philip froze. A year ago, hed had a fling with Tanyabut he never thought Eleanor knew!
“How do you know about her?” he started, then cut himself off. “Never mind. No, Eleanor, its not Mills.”
Eleanor yawned.
“Then its Sandra Warren? Youve gone chasing after her?”

A shiver ran down Philips spine. Sandra had been another affair, long buried. If Eleanor knew, why had she never mentioned it? But of courseshe was a fortress, revealing nothing.
“Wrong again,” Philip insisted. “Not Warren or Mills. Someone elsewonderful, the love of my life. I cant live without her, and Im leaving. Dont try to stop me!”
“Then it must be Mabel,” concluded Eleanor. “Oh, Philip, Philip you poor sod. Your great secret. The love of your lifeMabel Ventura, thirty-five, one child, two miscarriages Am I right?”

Philip clutched his head. Shed hit the mark! His affair *was* with Mabel.
“How?” he stammered. “Who told you? Have you been spying on me?”

“Elementary, Philip,” said Eleanor. “Ive been a gynecologist for years. Ive examined half the women in this town, while youve only managed a few. One look, and I know where youve been, you daft git!”

Philip took a deep breath, scrambling for dignity.
“Suppose youre right!” he declared. “Even if its Mabel, nothing changes. Im leaving.”
“Youre thick as bricks, Philip,” Eleanor sighed. “You couldve just asked. Honestly, theres nothing special about hershes like any other. Seen her medical history, have you?”
“N-no,” he admitted.
“Right. First, go take a shower. Tomorrow, Ill ring Dr. Gasparhell see you straightaway. Then well talk. The shame of ita gynecologists husband picking a sick woman!”

“What should I do?” Philip whined.

“Ill fry the chops,” said Eleanor, turning away. “Youclean up and do what you like. If you want a healthy woman, just say. Ill recommend someone.”

**Lesson learned:** Never underestimate a woman who knows more than youespecially when shes the one whos seen it all.