I was nervous. Karen, my wife of eleven years, had told me to meet her at the Tumbleweed Inn at 3:00. I knew that the bar would be pretty much empty at that hour, and whatever it was she had to tell me would have little to do with partying with her. I didn’t know how right I was.
The TI was where she and I had met thirteen years before. I had a bad feeling. I had suspected that she was cheating on me with a coworker. I was afraid that this meeting would be where I got the news.
There had been signs: late nights at the office where she was a secretary to the boss. Disinterest in sex, at least with me. New clothes, provocative clothes, in her closet—clothes she never wore around me. And, reduced—much reduced—interest in communicating with me. We hardly spoke even at meals, fewer and fewer of which she was ever even home for.
During the past several months it had been mostly me and the kids eating and her coming in with some lame excuse and perhaps a dessert from the market for the children: Max 9 and Megan 10. Her disregard for me was one thing, and it hurt, but her putting the children on the backburner really pissed me off.
There were but few cars in the lot when I pulled into the TI. I had resolved to play it cool if she was going to do and say what I suspected was the case. I suspected a “tell all” due to a conversation that I had partially overheard two nights before: “Yes…okay…I agree…Tuesday…yes yes…I’ll get him there….”
Well, it was Tuesday, and it was three o’clock, and she had gotten me here. I sat in the car for a few moments thinking. What if she was with the asshole? What should I do? The advice my dad had laid on me years before came to me; they had served me well more than once in my business: “Do nothing son unless you ‘know’ what to do. Say nothing. Let your antagonist figure it out. The less you say the more he will worry. And, if he doesn’t worry; then, he is vulnerable, and you can make plans to take care of things at a date and time of your choosing. Remember, if you open your mouth they will know what you’re thinking immediately, even if you don’t realize it. Just shut the fuck up and walk away. Take care of business later after you have all of the facts and your plans are in place.”
I smiled. Gawd! how I had loved that man; I knew he was watching over me at that very minute. I said a silent prayer of thanks for his advice.
Inside I saw her sitting at the bar with a man I didn’t recognize. But, that was not a big surprise. My company, Steinbeck Inc., which I had founded ten years ago, claimed all of my time during the day, and I had little opportunity to mix with the folks at her place of work. I was an electrical engineer, and my company designed wiring and other electrical schema for a full dozen construction companies needing the services I could provide.
I walked over to the two of them.
She sensed my presence and turned. “Hello Mark,” she said. Not hello honey, no peck on the cheek, just hello Mark.
“Hi honey,” I said. And I said it pointedly. “What’s up?”
The man turned and faced me. “Mr. Steinbeck, or would you prefer I call you Mark? I, we, bought you here today to let you know that your wife and I have been having sex together for some time. She has made it clear that she is tired of sneaking around and having to make excuses, so I convinced her to just simply tell you.”
As I have said, I was half way prepared for this, and the recorder in my jacket pocket gave me an edge; I hoped I was getting it all. I waited. I said nothing, after all dad was watching, and I didn’t want “him” mad at me for being stupid.
“Mark?” said Karen waiting for me to say something, but I remained silent. She must have decided I was in shock or something, so she started talking. “Mark, it has been so hard keeping this from you. I don’t want you to feel hurt. I have no intention of leaving you. It’s just—well—sex with Jason here is just too much for me to give up. I hope you can understand. I just can’t keep this from you any longer; you deserve to know,” she said.
I wasn’t sure just how aware she was of how stupid her arguments sounded. Karen had not finished college, for obvious reasons, but I had never considered her actually dumb until that moment. As for the military genius she was trading me in for—well—enough said.
I walked to the end of the bar where the barkeep was trying not to hear what he couldn’t help but hear. I ordered what was on tap. He brought it. I sipped it, saying nothing.
The two of them watched me. I could see confusion on both of their faces. I finished my beer and left.
I could feel their eyes following me as I exited the building. I felt good. For the first time in months I felt that I had the upper hand. I might have been imagining it, but it was definitely how I was feeling. I went directly home; the kids would be waiting for me.
I kissed the kids hello, and laughed and told them it was going to be a good weekend for them. They yea’d and cheered, and we went to get ice cream and I told them of my plan, which I had formulated earlier that day. They would be staying with their aunt Susan and uncle Dak for the weekend. They loved my sister and brother-in-law and they them. Sue and her husband, an ex-army ranger, had been unable to conceive; hence, Max and Megan had become their favorite people in the whole wide world. I knew that Sue and Dak were going camping for the weekend, and now the kids were going to be going with them. That would give me the chance I needed to handle the things that had to be handled.
“Everything okay, Mark?” said Dak. The man had an uncanny knack for picking up on things.
“Truthfully, no,” I said. “I’m divorcing Karen. The kids don’t know so…”
“I figured,” he said.
That brought me up short. “What?”
“I’ve noticed some things,” he said. “So has Sue. Karen actually made a play for me last Christmas? I blew her off, and she made a joke about it trying to cover herself, but she couldn’t sell it, not to me. Sue made me not tell you; sorry I didn’t now.”
“It’s okay. I’m just grateful you guys are here to take care of the kids for a couple of days. I need time to get my ducks all lined up.
“Listen Mark, if you need me for anything—”
“Thanks, Dak, I’ll keep it in mind. But, I think I can handle this. It’ll be messy, but I have evidence, and this is not a no-fault state, so nailing the assholes shouldn’t be a problem. After I leave here, I’m heading over to Henry’s to get things underway.
Henry Morgan was my company’s more than competent attorney. He was by all accounts at least 120 years old, but still sharp as a razor blade. He knew every judge and every worthwhile attorney in the state let alone in the city. Karen couldn’t have not realized what I was capable of doing if I found her cheating. I had to figure that she had come forward with all of this—I have a fuck buddy—stuff in order to short shank anything I might do if I were to discover them by accident. It was very faulty reasoning, but the more I considered it the more it made the only possible sense: she was scared I would find out and sandbag her. Well, I was going to do just that.
“Yeah, Henry, that’s about it.” I had come to his home unannounced and had surprised him. I had given him the recording and the name of the barkeep who had been a witness to the bizarre meeting with my wife and her fuck buddy only hours earlier.
“Okay, I will have them both served on Monday. Are you going home?” he asked.
“Yes, I guess so. I don’t want to tip her too soon. I will be kicking her out as soon as you tell me they’ve been served.”
“Okay, Malcom will interview the witness and get him to sign an affidavit tomorrow even though it’s Sunday. Speed wins in this business. Hit ‘em hard, hit ‘em fast, and leave ‘em bewildered and sucking hind-titty, I always say,” he said.
I liked the way this man thought.
“Yes,” I said.
“Sorry about your marriage, and especially about Max and Megan. Anything you need—”
“Thanks Henry, I appreciate it.” I left feeling very-very good. I had an ex-ranger and a real nasty-ass lawyer running point, now all I had to do was sit back and let the shit hit the fan.
I had told Henry to deny her anything whatsoever; she was to get nothing. He said it wouldn’t be a problem. With any other lawyer, I knew, I would probably have to give her half of everything, but her actions, as proved by the recording, according to Henry, would give him the leverage to crush her in court. If Henry said it, it was true; that was a something I knew to be absolutely certain. I was feeling better and better as I drove home for possibly the last weekend I would be spending with my soon to be ex-wife.
Arriving home I was shocked to see a strange car in the driveway; it had to be Jason’s. It was getting dark. I wondered if I would be lucky enough to get a pic or two of the lovers. I parked a couple of houses down and snuck up to the house as unobtrusively as I could. The lights were out. As I neared the house, I saw Rex Stottlemeir, my next door neighbor pulling the trash out to the curb: Rex was a cop. I stood directly beside the strange car and looked at him. He saw me and waved. I nodded. He’d seen the car, I was glad: it was yet another witness.
I noted the asshole’s plate number. I would give it to Henry tomorrow along with Rex’s name and address and maybe a couple of pics if I could get ‘em.
I entered the back yard as though going to get my trash bins to bring them out. Rex had gone back in by then, so I could still try and sneak in and get my pics. They were in the front room. I pulled out my cell and shot them through the sliding glass doors at the back. Thank gawd for modern cell phones! He was banging her from behind while she knelt on the couch. I got about ten pictures, put away my cell and entered noisily through the sliding glass door. They heard me.
The two turned, looked at me, and continued doing what they were doing. I went upstairs.
The nerve! I thought. I seethed, but I waited. About fifteen minutes later, I heard the front door downstairs open and close and then the roar of the asshole’s engines as he drove off. I waited for a minute or two more and then went back downstairs heading for the kitchen. I heard the shower running as I passed the downstairs bathroom.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and waited. This was going to be interesting. Ten minutes later she came and joined me.
“You okay,” she asked. Her voice was—kind.
I didn’t say anything. I just sipped the coffee and waited for her to say something meaningful. It concerned me that she didn’t even think to ask after the kids. This woman was not the woman I had married more than a decade past.
“Mark, we have to talk,” she said.
“The kids are at my sister’s,” I said. “Thought you might like to know.”
“What? Oh, yes, I noticed they weren’t here when we—I—got home,” she said. She looked flustered now.
“Look, are you okay? I just—I just—I just wanted to be up front and honest with you. I didn’t like sneaking around. You’re a good man and you deserve better. It’s just sex, Mark, only sex. I will deny you nothing when we are together, and Jason knows that and is okay with it. He’s a good man; it was his idea not to hide things from you anymore.”
I couldn’t resist—sorry dad. “Damn nice of him,” I said.
“No need to be sarcastic, Mark. Honesty is always the best policy, you know,” she said.
She actually said that! Evidently breaking her wedding vows was an exception to the rule. I had to smile; I couldn’t help it.
“Mark, damn it! Say something,” she commanded.
“Whaddya want me to say? If I said to call him and tell him it’s over, would you?”
“Then there is nothing to say. I’m a cuckold and obviously a wimp, and that’s that,” I said. I was laughing my ass off inside, but my outward demeanor was calm even reflective.
“You’re not a cuckold or whatever, or a wimp,” she said. “You’re my husband and a good daddy and I love you and—”
“Save it, Karen. I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.” I had to get out of there. I couldn’t stand to be near the cunt. She was dead to me. Monday it would be all over and she would fucking well be history.
I retraced my steps of earlier in the day. I was back at the Tumbleweed and the same barkeep was on duty. I bellied up and took my place at the end of the bar. The place was crowded now, especially for a Tuesday night. I ordered a tap and ask the guy. “What gives?” I said, indicating the crowd.
“Ladies night. And the wolves are out.” He nodded toward the far corner. The lighting was dim, but I saw him. Jason was making out with one of the ladies. So, the cheater was cheating on the other cheater. Why was I not surprised. Or, maybe he wasn’t cheating on the other cheater; maybe the other cheater knew he had other—interests.
“I overheard that shit earlier today man. If you need a witness—”
“Thanks. Maybe I will,” I said.
“My wife pulled that shit on me too a few years ago, but I didn’t have anybody to stand with me; so I got rimmed pretty bad in court. Got to keep this place though; so that was something, I guess. It’d actually be good if half of what I make didn’t go to alimony.”
We talked off and on for the next four hours straight. I made a mental note to talk to Henry about maybe getting this guy some justice if he helped me nail Romeo and Juliette. Us cuckold suckers had to stick together.
Jason never noticed me at the bar. I had managed to get some good shots of him and his little chickee. I would use them to show my wife if indeed she thought she was exclusive with him. But that would have to wait till after the big show on Monday.
I got home around four in the morning. Josh, the barkeep and I had had a half dozen cups of joe after closing. He lived upstairs from the bar, and so he had nowhere to go. And since he was living alone, I guess I was a good candidate for late night conversation. I liked the guy. Plus he was a damn good bartender, a major plus in my view.
I was pissed at Karen, but I wanted to sleep in my bed, not in the damn guest room. There’s something about a man’s own bed. It’s something that my wife knew about me and that might be why she’d fucked the asshole in the front room instead upstairs. I slid in beside her. She was awake. I felt her hand go for my cock. I let her. I wondered if she could even get me hard bearing in mind how furious I was.
She slid down and took me in her mouth. My little soldier betrayed me. Karen was nothing if not an excellent cocksucker. I came in minutes and she swallowed it all. She’d only done that a few times in eleven years. Afterwards, I rolled over and was able to sleep. She evidently did the same.
The light streaming in through the cracks between the window curtains woke me. It was almost 8:00. I could smell bacon frying in the kitchen. I got up, showered, dressed and went downstairs.
She was in a good mood. I guess she thought that the blow job I’d enjoyed was evidence that everything was all right or at least that our marriage was not terminal. “Hi sleepy head,” she said.
“Morning,” I said. “Smells good.” Well it did. I was hungry. It might be the last day of our married life, but I didn’t have to be all mopey about it. The shit would hit the fan tomorrow, but today was going to be a good day; I just knew it.
“I’ll be here all day today for you,” she said. She said it like it was a special favor to me since I was being so reasonable.
“Yes. And, if you’re good, you might get really lucky,” she said. She was actually giggling. I didn’t know whether to laugh or be sick to my stomach. How could this cheating cunt of a wife actually think that I would consciously accept what she was selling!
I just giggled back at her. “I have to take my car into the shop later this morning I said. Have to have new brakes put on.”
“Oh, I thought we might—”
“Maybe later,” I said. I had to figure a way to avoid her, and it wasn’t going to be easy.
I really didn’t want to stick my wick in her whoring cunt. But, I supposed I could endure it if I absolutely had to, to keep her off balance.
Just before leaving to get the brake job, which incidentally had not been a lie, I hid my little voice activated recorder near the kitchen phone. I figured if she called him that would be the phone she’d use. I was right. Gawd! how I loved the intrigue.
Three hours later I was back. I retrieved the recorder while she was taking the trash out and I went into my office to hear what might have been caught on it. It was hurtful when I heard her say she loved him, mighty hurtful. It was especially so since I knew he didn’t give a damn about her. I couldn’t wait to show her the dated pics I got of him and his chickee the night before. That would put a crimp in her style.
“Hi, it’s me…yes…he’s gone out to do something on the car…(giggle)…yes the blow job did the trick, you were right…I don’t know…Jason, he might not want to…yes yes…I will try…he loves fucking me so maybe…but…okay I understand…I just don’t want to lose him…I don’t know maybe we went to far shoving it in his face like that…I know but…okay…okay bye, I love you too.”
I sat there, in my office, in a state of wonder. I had married a moron. It was embarrassing. I wasn’t sure now if I even should divorce her. How could anyone that stupid be held responsible for her actions! No, the hurt was too deep. The in-your-face audacity of the pair made any kind of reconciliation impossible. And then there were the children; she clearly didn’t give a damn about them—unforgivable!
I couldn’t avoid her. I had gone to bed at about 9:00. She’d joined me half an hour later with only her panties and bra on. She slid down my body once again trying to get me hard; and again, she was successful. She felt me getting close this time and squeezed my cock to short shank me. She shucked her panties, smiled, slid back up and impaled herself on me. She rode me like a broncobuster until I came. I thought that would be it, but no; she slid down me again and did her level best to get me hard once more. Again, she won the fight with my little soldier. Then she got down beside me, stuck her butt high in the air, and told me to take her from behind. I thought about pleading fatigue, but then thought, what the fuck. I took her. It would be the last time.
We were both too pooped to pop again after that, so we kissed, perfunctorily, and slept.
I was up and out of the house before she even awoke the next morning. It was Monday and soon it would be the living end for her and her lover.
I first went to the office to let my secretary, Elsbeth, know I would be out for the rest of the day. Being the boss had its upside.
First stop was Henry’s office. He had news. Malcom, his part time PI, had gotten some stuff per Romeo. He was married, had six kids—believe it or not—and his wife had the money in the family. A housefrau ten years his senior, she apparently had no clue as to his philanderings.
I instructed Henry to take him down big time and also gave him my latest recording and my cell with the pics. He smiled at that. I also, mentioned to him, that I might have a special job for him and Malcom after the dust settled.
I knew that Sue and Dak would get the kids off to school. It was having to talk to them later in the day that was scaring me. But there was nothing for it; it had to be done.
Henry had set it up for the two assholes to be served at work. There was a restraining order against her coming back to the house, and against him as well. The papers were set to be delivered just before lunch time. I asked Henry to make sure it done as loud and with as much fanfare as possible. I wanted the two lovers to hurt. Also, I had asked that he make any and all evidence against the pair available to Jason’s wife. What she did with it would be up to her.
Gawd! How I wanted to be there when my wife was served. And then I thought, why not. I was in the hall when the server arrived. I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me, so he just walked right past me to the office where my wife worked—the boss’s office.
“Excuse me, are you Mrs. Karen Steinbeck?” he said.
“Why yes I am,” she said, smiling.
I was watching from the doorway and she didn’t see me at first since she was turned to speak with the server.
He handed her a manila envelope. “You’re served,” he said.
Her face clouded. She looked at the envelope she held in her hand and opened it. She paled and began to cry, then sob. She fell into her chair. Her boss at that moment was coming out, saw, and tried to console her. I made myself more visible. She saw me and her eyes shot open. “Mark! Why!”
I couldn’t resist, sorry again dad. “You can’t be serious, Karen. You have to be the world’s biggest moron,” I said. And I walked out.
I wasn’t present, but I heard later that Jason had been served in like fashion. He actually fainted as the realization that his life was essentially over sunk in. He eventually lost everything: wife, kids, house, job, everything. I had been wrong about one thing; Karen was not the world’s biggest moron; she was only the second biggest.
A few days later I sat in Henry’s office and sipped the hot brew. “So, do you think you can help him since it’s so long after the fact,” I said.
“Yes, I think so. The lady has a lot of skeletons in her closet, and she is more than willing to revisit the conditions of their divorce in order to keep them hush-hush,” he said.
“Get the alimony dumped,” I said, “I mean if you can.”
“Mark, don’t you know by now that I can do anything,” he laughed.
“I stand corrected,” I said joining him in laughing.
Late that day I sat at the bar in the Tumbleweed talking with my new friend.
“Geezsus!” he said. “If what you say is true, you will never have to pay for another tap in here again. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Especially since she rubbed my nose in it so bad at the time.”
“Glad I could help,” I said.
Karen ended up with nothing from our marriage, but miracle of miracles she was not fired. She’d been with her boss for so long that he let her indiscretion slide this once. Jason was history as previously related.
I met with Karen the day after the big show. I had something I wanted to give her. I knew I risked having to listen to her beg and plead, but this one was worth that risk.
“Mark, isn’t there some way—I mean the children.” That was a card I knew she was going to play and I shot her down.
“You have shown no interest in the children in months, Karen. That boyfriend of yours has had your full attention,” I said.
“Mark, he’s a good man. He’s like you in so many ways. I think that’s why I fell for him in the first place. He loves me too. That’s why we tried so hard to make you understand. It was for you that we bared our hearts and souls. Now you have seen fit to destroy us, all of us, even the children. How could you!” The tears came again. This time she had really pissed me off. Making it all my fault! Gawd, I was mad!
“Mark, it’s not too late. There’s still an us if you want it. I know I can make Jason understand that you have needs too. You’ll still be my number one. You’re the father of my children. How could you ever be otherwise? Jason is outside of us, not part of us. I will make you a very happy man if you only give me the chance.”
I was almost speechless. I couldn’t even get mad. This was beyond dumb, stupid, moronic. She actually believed her tripe. She needed help, but somebody else was going to have to provide it. She was history to me.
“Karen, I came here today to see you for two reasons. One, I am going to allow you unrestricted visitation with the children, but never your lovers. I am going to give you some money to get you into a new starter apartment, but then you will have to fend for yourself. The condition for this largesse on my part is that you do not in any way contest the divorce. If you do, I will come at you with everything I have. And, Karen, you have no idea what I am capable of. Am I clear so far?”
She stared at me. It was clear she had hoped against hope that I would take her back, and that I would be okay with her keeping on with world class moron number one. Like I say, she was going to need help.
Number two are these. I pushed manila folder toward her. Please check the dates at the bottom of the photographs,” I said. They were the photos I’d taken Saturday night of Jason and his chickee. She pulled them out and stared. “But these are from—”
“Last Saturday night. You are not his true love. You never were. He’s a player. Have a nice life,” I said.
I rose, threw a twenty on the table for the waitress, and left. She was shedding the tears of the despairing as I exited the building.