Bankruptcy and Watermelon Belly

The incorrigible grifter husband filed for bankruptcy.

Shaming his parents.

Shaming his wife.

His easy way out of paying his creditors - some of them small business owners who knew his father well and thought, wrongly: Like the father, so is the son.

Ankles swollen like butternut squash, she played tennis barefoot, seven months pregnant, waddle-running back and forth, her shoes too uncomfortable.

The almost ten-pound baby girl was the prettiest in the hospital. She was not a scrunched and scrawny baby, but a beautifully filled-out one, with perfect lips, and plump arms and legs.

The Ethan Allen maple furniture the grifter’s wife brought into the marriage was repossessed; he had used it as collateral for a loan. She was shocked when they came to collect the debt and remove the furniture. She woodenly emptied the drawers and put the clothes on the floor.

Walking far along the river, she sat down in the shade to rest in the sweltering August heat. He made no offer to let her rest and get their vehicle to save her from having to walk any further. Exhausted, she rested under the trees, then asked him to bring the vehicle.“It’s not that far, you can make it.” She trudged back.

At seven years old, the boy stood on a ladder at the hospital window to say hi to his mother and new baby sis.

Eight and a half months pregnant, with swollen ankles, she walked into the courtroom, embarrassed and nervous, her back aching and her feet screaming with each step from the extra weight. Her watermelon belly was not yet ripe enough to give up the cargo.

“You are out of order,” the bankruptcy judge declared, glaring at the man requesting to be absolved of paying his creditors.

His sister and his wife’s sister-in-law worked for him in his painting contracting business. Six weeks earlier, he had torn ligaments in his knee. The female painters worked overtime to make up for his time off.

The clothes lay on the floor, furniture gone. One creditor satisfied, more hounded by mail and phone. He sat at home, complaining of pain, while creditors hounded them.

He didn't pay his employees their final pay when he closed the business.

Driving an unreliable car, she bravely carried on, supporting the three, soon to be four, making housewives into beauties, while six and a half months pregnant.

She called on clients with the baby in tow. When the car inevitably broke down, she asked to use a phone to call a young male friend who helped her get the car running.

“The wife is judgment-proof, obviously!” the judge declared, looking at the watermelon belly on the woman. “The wife holds no responsibility. Husband is to sign the bankruptcy documents, and the judgment is only against him.”

In her youth, naïveté led her here. Her mother disliked him from the start. She was enthralled by his stories and fell into his trap. The grifter, who borrowed and never repaid, who hoped to get money from her parents, was stopped short.

After years of instability, she left and made a life, saving the children from more strife. The babies have grown now, out on their own, and a grave somewhere holds his bones.

Copyright © 5/26/2026 by Andrea O. Corwin

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