Reflections From the Dating Pool

By Cindy Drummond

If you are looking for a book with dating tips and tools to find the love of your life, this is NOT that book. This is a story about Cindy, a middle-aged woman who woke up one morning to learn she had been living a lie. Betrayed and broken, Cindy knew she needed to start over and learn to trust again.

When faced with a crisis, some head to

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publisher
• Release date: Sep 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781999159702

Cindy Drummond

CINDY Drummond had envisioned writing a novel since early teens. A successful career in recruitment was her priority in her 20's and the role of motherhood took precedent in her 30's. The idea of writing a book seemed fleeting until her mid 40's, when Cindy found herself suddenly single and increasingly lonely. While wading through the murky waters of online dating, Cindy realized that she finally had a story to share in hopes of helping other women in a similar situation. Cindy resides in Calgary, Canada with one loving husband, two daughters, two stepdaughters and two kitties. Cindy works full time for an award-winning home builder and is the creator of WOW! (WOMENONLYWEEKEND) an annual event that sells out every year in the heart of the Rocky Mountains. You can connect with Cindy on Facebook at facebook.com/womenonlyweekend or visit her website cindydrummond.ca, to sign up for updates, request an interview or share with her your dating experiences.

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With love,

This book is dedicated to my daughters, Jenna and Sierra, who are the yin and yang in my world, and to my parents who always hold a space in both their hearts and their home for me.

To my loving husband, Geoff, who found me and fell in love with me.

To my stepdaughters, Sydney and Lauren, who accepted me as their friend and a mentor.

To the women of WOW, you trusted me when I needed it the most, this book is for you because …YOLO!

Chapter One

Bad Day

It was supposed to be an ordinary day. I was in our ensuite brushing my teeth before work when I stopped, transfixed by the woman staring back at me from the bathroom mirror. I barely recognized her. I stared at my reflection and with my index finger, gingerly traced the furrows that had taken hold between my eyebrows. I wondered how much cover up it would take to make the bags under my eyes disappear. Deciding it wasn't worth the effort, I shook my head in defeat and flipped off the light. Just then, the doorbell rang. I walked over to our bedroom window and craned my head, hoping to get a glimpse of who was at our door at 7:30am, but I couldn’t see anyone.

I heard the front door open and muffled voices. I let the drapes fall back into place and went to see what was going on. I started to descend the stairs and watched in disbelief as nine police officers burst into my home! I stood paralyzed mid-step as two uniforms shot past me and headed toward our bedroom. The others had taken over the main floor and basement.

What's going on? I begged.

I felt invisible. No one stopped to answer me but continued to race around our home like they were looking for something or someone. I braced myself with both hands on the staircase railing and yelled, Someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on here!

I must have been holding my breath because I thought I was going to pass out. As I started to sink into the stairs, unsure of what to do next, one of the officers began to speak. I watched his mouth open and close as he introduced himself — Sergeant someone from district somewhere — but I couldn't make sense of his words. I did, however, clearly hear the word arrest and in that instant, realized the world, as I had known it, ceased to exist.

If asked, I might be able to piece together the details of the next several hours, but truthfully, they are foggy. I remember the police intrusion, followed by a clear image of my boyfriend, Dirk, being led out of our home in handcuffs wearing the ridiculous velour sweatpants he seemed to favour instead of blue jeans. Amid the seriousness of the situation, I almost giggled when I thought of him sitting in a jail cell wearing purple loungewear.

Once he was forcibly removed, two of the remaining armed officers turned their attention to me. They instructed me to sit down and in front of Jenna and Sierra, my two teenage daughters, who had been abruptly woken up during the commotion, began an in-depth interrogation, peppering me with questions about Dirk, our living arrangements and my custodianship of my daughters.

Eventually, the questions stopped, and the officers left as quickly as they had arrived, taking with them my desktop computer, Dirk's cell phone and my naïvety. I had more questions than answers but knew one thing for certain, the man I had been sharing my home, my family, and my life with for the last six years, had been living a lie. The man I thought he was didn't exist; I had been in love with a stranger. Now, faced with the truth, I needed to escape and sever myself from this toxic relationship.

My daughters sat frozen on the sofa. Wide-eyed and pale, they both looked terrified. Two girls, two years apart and two very different creatures. When one of them is angry with me, the other is my defender. If one of them is happy, the other is sad.

Most people would believe that Jenna, as the older sister, is the role model, but I've often heard Jenna remark that Sierra is her hero. Jenna treats everyone with respect. As a dance teacher, she has a lot of experience interacting with students and their parents, so she often seems more mature than her age. Sierra is braver, sassier, but has this empathetic side to her that not everyone sees unless she wants them to. She's quick to judge, but her assessment is often on point. Jenna has high standards of herself and others, which makes you never want to disappoint her. Sierra is quick-tempered, but one of the most loyal people I know. They are yin and yang.

I could feel my chest tighten and knew we needed to escape. We weren't in any immediate danger, but the thought of staying in the house made me sick to my stomach. I barked at the girls. Get dressed right now. We are not staying here.

I was in survival mode. Within moments, I ushered them and our two cats out of the house and into my car. I went back in alone to collect clothing and toiletries for the three of us, and whatever else seemed relevant, then drove directly to my parents' bungalow, a short distance away. They were out of town, so I knew I could take refuge at my childhood home without having to explain myself. I needed to let the reality of my situation sink in.

We unpacked the items that I had thrown together and tried to make the best of the situation for the night. The girls had their own rooms at home, so they weren't thrilled to share a bed, but I could tell they didn't really want to sleep alone either.

Once I was certain they had fallen asleep, I walked into the kitchen, and it dawned on me that I hadn't fed the cats. As I bent down to pour the dry food into their dishes, Shadow, my ragdoll kitty, brushed up against me and knocked the bag from my grip. I watched in dismay as the pricey kibbles scattered onto the floor, and I crumpled to the ground among them. Hunched over on all fours, I pounded the floor with my fists, trying to drive out the images of Dirk in handcuffs, the police officers racing through my home and the look of horror on Jenna’s and Sierra's faces. I still didn't understand what had happened or how I could have been so blind.

Finally, when I'd succumbed to the fact that I wasn't going to get the answers I was looking for from the kitchen floor, I stood up and walked slowly toward my bedroom in the basement of my childhood home. The cats must have known something was wrong because they didn't complain about eating their food straight off the floor.

I got into bed, turned on the bedside light and picked up a journal that I had thrown into my duffel bag at the last moment. I opened it and realized that I hadn't written an entry for over three years.

Wow! Was my life that miserable, that I hadn’t allowed myself to record any of it? I scrounged around in my purse, found a pen and began to write.

---

July 4

The world as I know it is over.

Everything was a lie.

What the hell am I going to do?

What am I going to tell my parents?

I am terrified to face tomorrow.

---

The following morning, the second before I fully opened my eyes, I had hoped I'd woken up from a horrific dream. As I scanned my bedroom, my stomach sank when I confirmed my nightmare was a reality. Paralyzed, I watched the last six and a half years of my life play backwards like a bad movie and wondered where it had all gone wrong. The image of Dirk being led away in handcuffs as he called out in desperation haunted me. It's just a mistake, Cindy. I will be home soon.

As much as I wanted to believe him, I knew there was no misunderstanding. Dirk had been secretive for months, and now I knew why. He had been accused of voyeurism by a much younger female co-worker and a search of his office at work, and our home, provided enough evidence for his employer to fire him with cause and to press charges.

I met Dirk seven months after separating from Jenna and Sierra's father. I had been sitting at home alone on a Friday night when two of my girlfriends called and asked me for a ride. They needed a lift home from a night club, and I needed a reason to get out of the house.

When I arrived, they were chatting with a couple of guys, so I joined their group feeling like an awkward fifth wheel. I wasn't paying much attention when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

Sorry to bother you, but I can't help but notice you don't seem to be enjoying your company.

I looked up and locked eyes with the devil in disguise. I was mesmerized. We started seeing each other the next day, and while I knew he wasn't a guy I should fall for, I did anyway.

In hindsight, I should have paid more attention to the unexplained absences, the lack of details and long pauses when I asked him questions that should have been easy to answer, but I didn't. I thought I was careful. I didn't introduce him to my daughters until we had been dating for six months. I didn't let him move in with me until we had been dating for over a year and it wasn't until we built a house together nearly two years into our relationship that I began to get suspicious.

We set up a joint bank account for household expenses and the day before we took possession of our home, I realized the account was empty. I thought we had been victims of fraud. I called the bank manager, a friend of mine, who sympathetically suggested that I ask Dirk what happened to the money.

Dirk was quick to explain that his brother needed a loan and promised it would be replaced within a few weeks.

I believed him.

A few weeks later, I went away on a golf retreat with a couple of friends and couldn't understand why I was unable to reach Dirk the entire weekend. I was upset and worried to death that something terrible had happened to him. I arrived home and found him on the couch watching TV.

What the hell? I asked. Where have you been all weekend?

He smiled that smile. The one that assured me he couldn't possibly look straight into my eyes and lie through his teeth. He called me sweetie and wove an elaborate tale that convinced me he had fallen asleep after being out for a few beers with one of the guys from work.

I didn't realize my ringer was off until just a few hours ago, he explained.

I believed him.

Not long after my weekend away, I noticed Dirk's cell phone on the coffee table. I don't know what made me decide to pick it up and scroll through his texts, but I instantly recoiled when I saw a suggestive text from a girl Dirk had gone to high school with. I marched upstairs and demanded an explanation from him while waving the phone in his face like a crazy woman.

Babe, it's not what you think, he explained to me calmly. I know it looks bad, but honestly, we are just friends. You have nothing to worry about.

I believed him, and I kept on believing him for the next four and a half years.

Until yesterday. The day that his tightly wound ball of deceit unraveled and he didn't have the time or wherewithal to conjure up a story. Even if he had, I was now in possession of the truth and, God willing, this truth would finally set me free.

I picked up my cell phone to call into work. I wanted to pull the covers back over my head, but I needed to explain to my employer why I missed a day of work without notice.

My co-worker, Allison, must have recognized my phone number on the caller ID because she answered with, Cindy! Are you okay? Everyone was asking where you were yesterday!

Hearing the concern in her voice made my eyes begin to well up. I didn't want her to know that I was crying, so I spoke quickly. No, I am not okay. I can't talk about it right now, but I am going to need to take the rest of the week off to handle a personal emergency.

For a moment, there was silence. Then she said, Okay, no problem. I can handle everything here while you take care of what you need to at home.

Thank you, I whispered through my tears and ended the call.

I stared at the phone, still gripped in my hand as the worries began to swirl in my brain. I'm going to have to move. I can't go back to that house. I have a mortgage payment coming out of the bank in two days and not enough money to cover it. How am I going to make it on my own? What am I going to do? What are we going to do?

Panic constricted my chest and I then remembered my daughters were asleep upstairs. Cindy! I said out loud to myself, You need to stay calm for the girls. They can't see you like this!

I crawled out of bed and reached for my jeans that were carelessly heaped on the floor and stepped into them. Anyone could tell the t-shirt I was wearing had been slept in, but I didn't care. Getting dressed was difficult enough.

I scrolled through the contact list on my cell phone, found the number I was looking for and pushed the dial icon. My friend, Angela, a prominent real estate agent, answered on the second ring.

Angela, I need help.

Cindy? What's going on?

Tears sprang up again, but this time they didn't stop me, and I began to ramble. Something terrible has happened. Dirk was arrested. I can't stay with him. I need to move out of my house immediately and put it up for sale.

I can meet you at the house in an hour. Let's do a thorough walkthrough so I can give you a realistic appraisal. The market isn't great right now, but I understand your urgency and I will help you any way that I can.

I dreaded the idea of going back to that house but knew I didn't have the luxury of time on my side. I needed to know if selling it was an option. I couldn't afford to sell it at a loss, but there was also no way for me to manage the expenses on my own.

The girls were just waking up when I went upstairs.

Good Morning! I chirped, wishing I felt as cheerful as my voice sounded.

Hey, replied Jenna, and Sierra muttered something which I took to be a greeting of sorts.

I need to go back to the house today. I am meeting Angela to talk about putting it up for sale.

Where will we live? asked Sierra.

I don't know, I replied honestly. I guess we'll see what Angela says and then go from there.

I am not going back there! insisted Jenna.

I don't expect you to, sweetie. Neither of you needs to go back there. I promise! I'm going to meet Angela now and will pick up some groceries on the way home. I hope you can find something to eat in Gramma's fridge while I'm gone.

I swooped up my car keys from the kitchen table, where I had abandoned them the night before, and gave each of the girls a tight hug before rushing out the door.

I arrived at the house where Angela gave me a look that suggested pity and said, Hang in there. As we walked through each room, I tried to highlight all the upgrades that Dirk and I had put into the home we had built together; it was hard. The house I had loved two days ago was now a scary place that I didn't recognize. Every step I took just reminded me of the deception and the disgust I now felt. It was lurking in every corner.

We finished the tour, and Angela turned to me, looked me squarely in the eye, and said, Cindy, I am really sorry, but I don't think this is the best time to put your house on the market. There is no way you will get your money out.

We purchased the house during a spike in the real estate market, and I had funded the majority of the down payment.

Maybe you should think about keeping it and renting it out until the market rebounds.

Seriously, I said, that would mean I would need to stay in contact with Dirk. I am not sure I can handle that and where would the girls and I live?

Angela told me she didn't have any other answers, but was adamant that selling my house could mean a potential loss of nearly fifty thousand dollars.

I drove back to my parents' house, deflated. All I could think about was how much my relationship with Dirk had cost me. I sacrificed most of my forties being in a toxic relationship with him, and it looked like I was going to lose my life's savings too.

It wasn't until I slid the key into the lock at my parents that I realized I had forgotten to pick up groceries. I was about to turn around and leave when I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Jenna had her back to me when I came around the corner and found her dressed in black jeans and a red t-shirt.

Oh, I forgot you are starting your summer job today.

Yep, it's going to be a long day.

Sierra looked up from her cereal bowl. Jenna is driving me to Erin's house on her way to work, so you don't need to worry about us.

Relief washed over me. They both seemed okay. Whatever that meant.

My parents' house seemed eerily quiet with both girls gone. I paced back and forth, trying to determine what the next chapter of our lives might look like. Maybe I should keep the house for a year and rent it out fully furnished?

I tried to visualize how that might work and wondered if renting out the house was a viable option. Unfortunately, the police had seized both my desktop computer and my laptop from the house, and I didn't know the password for my parents' computer. I could have called them at the cabin but wanted to avoid explaining why I was at their house, so I resorted to searching up rental properties in my community through my phone. I quickly realized that even if I found a suitable tenant, I still wouldn't be able to cover the mortgage plus all the other household expenses that go with it. While the idea of renting out my home had flaws, it seemed like the best option. At least I could cover some of the costs and buy some time to get my head straight.

I was sitting on my parents' couch, staring out the window and letting the notion of renting out my home percolate, when I received a text from Jenna telling me she needed something from the house.

Are you kidding? I let the phone drop onto the couch and watched it bounce to the floor. I did not want to go back there. It was one thing to be there to show Angela around, but the thought of being inside my own home by myself sickened me. I knew I had to go back. I couldn't bear the thought of adding more stress to Jenna and Sierra.

I dragged myself off the couch, scooped my phone off the floor and rustled through my mom's closet for a sweater. Although the sun was beaming outside, I suddenly had chills.

I got in the car, retraced my route back to the house and parked in the middle of the driveway. It took me a minute to get up the nerve to get out of the driver's seat and make my way along our beautifully manicured yard and up the stairs to the front door. I slipped my key in the lock, turned the knob and took a deep breath. My once beloved home felt empty. When Dirk and I decided on the interior paint for our new home, we chose a bright goldenrod colour to signify happiness. Today the sunshine yellow walls mocked me and screamed, caution. This was supposed to be my sanctuary.

Heart racing, I went upstairs to our bedroom; the comfy king-size bed was still unmade from the previous morning. I just wanted to lie down. I was so tired. I took a few steps toward it but stopped myself. No! I shouted aloud. No, Cindy, if you get into that bed and pull the covers up over your head, you might not be able to get up. Ever! I didn't have time wallow in self pity; I had my daughters to think about. This was not the day I was going to lay down and die.

I started humming Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" — not because I was suddenly in a good mood, but because I needed to harness some of the strength she evoked in me each time I heard that song.

I was still humming when I received a text from my best friend, Coral, who had the summer off from teaching.

What the hell is going on?

Are you ok?

I had only briefly spoken to Coral yesterday. She called when I was trying to get the girls settled at my parents’, but I didn't want to say too much in front of them and only told her that Dirk and I were finished and that I had moved home. Now seeing her text, I desperately wanted to tell her what was going on.

I met Coral when I was 18. We were in each other's bridal party, we vacationed together with our husbands, and we helped raise each other's children. Our friendship outlasted each of our marriages and became stronger when we only had each other for support.

I grabbed an assortment of clothes from each of the girl's bedrooms and got the hell out of the house. I waited until I was back in my car with the doors locked before I felt safe to call her. She answered on the first ring.

Are you okay? she asked.

Not even close, I started. Dirk is in jail, and I am living at my parents’!

Oh my god, what happened?

It's a long story, and I have more questions than answers, but for now, I want to know what you are doing today.

"Whatever you