0 comments/ 105543 views/ 17 favorites The Dentist By: MWMottawa My wife and I were enjoying a pleasant supper when I suddenly bit into something very hard and discovered that I had broken a molar. As my wife worked for a dentist I asked her to book an appointment for me in the morning. When she called me back the next day from the office to tell me that the soonest I could get in was a month I decided to see if I could find another dentist who could see me immediately. After a few hours calling I stumbled upon a young dentist just setting up a new practice who could see me later that same day. Arriving at his office I was greeted by his receptionist/assistant and immediately usher into the exam room. After greeting my dentist, Bill, he began his examination. Unfortunately I had broken my tooth below the gum line and a crown would be required rather than the quick fix I had hoped for. While his receptionist/assistant cleaned up and prepared to leave for the evening Bill and I discussed the details and tried to arrange our schedules. Although not handsome by any means, Bill was very humorous, pleasant looking, average build and extremely outgoing. I found myself relaxing and enjoying his company as we discussed our respective wives and daughters. Bill explained that the initial session would be about one and a half hours at which time a temporary crown would be installed followed by another session of one half hour to install the permanent crown. Due to my busy schedule I could not find a suitable time for the first session and Bill agreed that we could meet later in the day but this would prolong the sessions as his assistant leaves early. We set an appointment for the following day with another appointment the week after, during the afternoon. As I sat in the dental chair the following afternoon Bill set up around me. As his assistant was leaving for the evening he needed to arrange the tray so that he could reach his equipment while working on my tooth. After a few trial runs he found it was more convenient to leave the tray on my left and reach over from my right to exchange equipment. As he injected the anesthetic I assumed my dental position, frozen in the chair with a death grip on the arm rests. Leaning in his crotch became firmly pressed against my hand which under normal circumstances I would have moved. However when someone has a sharp object in your mouth I decided that quick movements were probably unwise. When Bill was finished the look on his face told me that he was as embarrassed as I. Once the freezing took place Bill began the work to shape my broken tooth to accept the crown. Every so often, depending on his position, his crotch would again press against the back of my hand. As he moved I could clearly distinguish the feel of his penis and the individual testicles. For some strange reason my stomach began to tighten and I developed a forbidden sense of excitement, much like watching your own sister or mother naked. You knew it was not right but couldn’t turn away. I had never wanted to have sex with a man but part of me wondered what it would be like to feel his cock in my hand. Would it feel like mine, or an alien and unique experience. As he began grinding down my tooth and again leaned into me I tensed up, partially drawing my fingers up along the armrest. Doing so I could feel the length of his cock slide along the outside of my right hand. Mumbling a sorry around his fingers in my mouth I relaxed and returned my hands to their original position. Was it my imagination or did his cock feel a little bigger this time? Was he thinking of my hand pressed against his crotch as I was? As he continued grinding and hit a sensitive area I took the opportunity to again tense up drawing the side of my hand along his crotch. Again with a sorry I relaxed my hand, this time very slowly, and ran my fingers back down the armrest and along the length of his cock. It definitely was bigger and I found the discovery excited me strangely. I repeated this charade a number of times as Bill worked on my tooth, moving the side of my hand across his crotch, sneaking feels of his cock. When the grinding was finished Bill stepped back allowing me to discretely glance down at a noticeable bulge in his pants. I experienced a peculiar sense of accomplishment over this fact. As he stepped back in to fit the temporary crown I relaxed my hand, lifted it slightly and spread my fingers to cover as much area as possible. As his hard cock pressed against my hand I was amazed by the heat I felt and by the pulsing of his cock. I soon realized what I was feeling was the beat of his heart, which seemed to be racing along with mine. Very slowly I began flexing my fingers, rubbing the back of my hand against his cock. Once finished he placed one finger into my mouth and began checking the fit of the temporary crown. Closing my mouth to swallow my lips wrapped around his finger. A shock seemed to run through my whole body. He continued to slowly inspect my temporary crown, his finger sliding in and out through my closed lips as the back of my hand rubbed his hard cock through his pants. Time seemed frozen, a few seconds, a few minutes and as suddenly as it began the moment was broken. Pulling back his hand and stepping away Bill cleared his throat and told me we were finished. A distance developed between neither one of us wanted to look at the other. Thanking him I got up and left the office as quickly as I could. Driving home I could not get the feel of his cock out of my mind or get over the excitement I had felt. That night I did not make love to my wife but fucked her with a passion. Over the next week my emotions swung from quilt, to disgust, to a rationalization that nothing really happened, just male curiosity about another. I, however, still could not get the feeling out of my system and found that I would get erect any time I thought about what had happened. The day of my appointment Bill called to say he had an emergency and had to cancel our afternoon appointment and asked if I could again come at 5:00 to have the permanent crown placed. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and a hot flush run over me as I agreed. The rest of the day was spent thinking about our last session. As Bill sat me in his dental chair I could not help but notice a slight bulge in his pants. He had been thinking about our last session too and obviously had enjoyed it as much as I. Opening my mouth he again began sliding his fingertip over my temporary crown and asked how it had felt. “Very good” was all I said before closing my lips around his finger. At that Bill stepped in, pressing his now hard cock against the back of my hand, removed his finger from my mouth and lowered the chair. The movement of the chair dragged my hand across his cock and balls as I reclined. As the chair stopped I began a slow and steady flexing of my fingers against him. Very quickly, to quick for me, Bill removed the temporary crown, placed the permanent crown and smoothed out and imperfections he saw. I knew that he was done his work and the only thing I could think of was his cock against the back of my hand. Again Bill checked the crown with his fingertip and again I closed my lips around his finger while rubbing his cock. His finger seemed to be taking longer strokes through my lips as he checked all of my teeth. Closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation of his finger sliding across my lips I rolled my hand until my palm and fingers were holding his cock. He paused just momentarily and then continued sliding his finger in and out of my mouth as I began slowly squeezing and stroking his cock through his pants. I gave no conscious thought to where this would lead, I only knew that I did not want it to end. Bill eased himself forward, my hand still caressing him, until he stood at the head of the chair. Turning my head I could clearly make out the shape of his cock as I stroked it. His finger in my mouth was moving faster and deeper now, his strokes appearing more urgent. With my other hand I reached over and began clawing at his belt, unsuccessfully trying to open it but unwilling to let go of my prize. Bill slid his finger from my mouth and started to unfasten his belt and open his fly. I stared, mesmerized, as he pulled his zipper half way down and freed the head of his cock from his shorts. It seemed huge in front of my face like that, the head stretched and purple, the slit winking at me as I kept stroking him. I ran my hand up until I grasp his bare cock. The skin was damp and seemed almost sticky, yet was also velvet smooth. His cock was as hard as an iron bar and I was struck by all the sensations I was feeling, experiencing. This was definitely not like holding my own cock. A strange smell seemed to fill the air and it took me a moment to realize that I was smelling the scent of a man for the first time. I pulled his pants lower still until I had exposed all of his cock. About 6” long and fairly thick it appeared gigantic in front of my face. My mind began to race as I stroked his cock, reveling in the feel of it. Without thought I began pulling him closer to me with each stroke. Stretching out I ran my tongue over the head of Bill’s cock and was rewarded with a moan of delight. His cock felt spongy and pliable under my tongue, the taste a slight bit acrid and salty. I knew that I wanted, needed him in my mouth. I had to suck his cock. Opening my mouth for him I closed my lips around the head of his cock and began licking the head as he pushed more of his cock into my mouth. The heat of the shaft, the pulsing of the vein against my lips and Bill’s groans were all I needed. I started to devoir his cock, trying desperately to swallow him up to his balls. Bill began a steady, rhythmic motion stroking his cock in and out of my mouth. Suddenly Bill’s cock became even thicker, harder, the head swelling up and becoming rigid and I knew he was going to cum. I also knew without question that I was going to take it. At first I noticed a change in the taste in my mouth mixing with the saliva, then realized he was cumming. I quickly swallowed my first taste and could feel his cock leap in my mouth and his thick warm sperm explode into me. Again salty and acrid, warm and choking. I swallowed as often as I could while he kept pouring his juice into me making short rapid strokes in and out of my mouth and kept sucking his cock until it softened in between my lips and he pulled away from me. I lay there for a few moments until Bill spoke up to tell me he could not believe how good that was. With a big grin on my mouth I told him how much I loved it and was glad he enjoyed it. Bill finally cleaned himself up and raised the chair for me. As we left the exam room he asked if I would like to book an appointment for a cleaning, maybe in the evening. All the way home I kept thinking “I’m a cocksucker and I have an appointment in 6 months”. My wife commented that she has never seen me so happy after a dental appointment or to look forward to my next appointment, a cleaning and whitewash. The Dentist Introduction: I don't have anything to preface this story with except to say it involves infidelity and divorce. There is no underage sexually activity in this story. After you read it leave whatever comments you want. I was going to block anonymous comments, but I got a couple really convincing private emails explaining some reader's preferences for anonymity. I enjoy almost all of them anyway so I'm not blocking anything or anybody. ***** Well here I am again lying on my back staring at another darkened ceiling. Eugenie is lying beside me...again. This was just about how it started, and for the life of me I can't figure out how we seemed to have ended up this way...again. Let me back up a little. I met the woman who would eventually become my wife at one of my cousin's weddings. I was twenty-four; two years into my career as a public school teacher. Since then I've been promoted twice; first from regular math teacher and then to administrative assistant at one of the high schools in our county. Eugenie was, is, two years older than I am, and at the time we met she was a paralegal in one of the smaller firms in the old city about forty-five miles from where I lived. The afternoon it started I was sitting by myself at one of the peripheral tables set aside for family. I wasn't married. I'd dated a girl all through college, but shortly after she and I graduated we realized things weren't going to work out. Actually I realized things wouldn't work out. I thought dating and almost being engaged meant being exclusive; my girlfriend had other ideas. We discussed our differences and parted ways. I have no idea whatever happened to her, but I knew then I wasn't especially interested in any kind of serious relationship. That was why I was at the wedding and reception as a solo; I felt this was an opportunity to pick up a little something. The 'little something' I ended up with was Eugenie. Eugenie was a little something too; she stood just 5'2" and maybe weighed 110lbs. sopping wet. She had dark brown eyes and fluffy, but short, brown hair. Did I fall madly in love; not at first not nearly, but that afternoon she was exactly what I was looking for. I think we hit it off pretty well. She started everything by wandering sort of seductively across the dance floor to my table; she was swaying her hips just enough to let her skirt swirl and twirl in a kind of 'if you're interested I'm available' manner. She had that suggestive look in her eyes like she was sizing me up and was kind of liking what she saw. She plopped, and I mean plopped, down on an adjacent seat and introduced herself. Of course the plop was intentional; it drew my eyes directly to the inverted plunge of the acute triangle that glared temptingly at me from the front of her partially unbuttoned blouse and at the two petulant little orbs that quivered beneath. I thought she was kind of pretty. But for a wedding I thought she was dressed a little too provocatively; wearing a filmy white blouse, a light brown pleated mini-skirt of some vaguely thin and somewhat translucent material, and brown thin ankle socks that matched her two inch heels. I could tell there was some kind of chemise or something under the blouse, but considering the way her tiny boobs gently trembled I knew she couldn't be wearing a bra. And oh yeah, she was wearing glasses, not contacts. We talked for a while about the wedding, how beautiful the bride was, how handsome the groom was, and what a beautiful day everything just generally was. It didn't take me long to realize she was either high on weed or she'd had too much to drink. The more we talked the more I realized I'd found someone who, like me, wasn't interested in the wedding. Her body language; I mean the way she languidly twisted and turned in a manner that forced her breasts to press naughtily against the fabric of her chemise; just insistently enough to lure two tasty looking little nipples to discreetly intimate their presence. It was cool to watch her lean forward and twist around; her chest pressed against the table with her boobs kind of sitting on the top like they were part of the entre. Yeah I got the unmistakable signal she wanted more than just polite conversation. Forty minutes after we met I had her out in my car, a late model Malibu, and we were pounding away. We'd climbed back to the rear seat. I had my pants and boxers down around my ankles. She lifted that tiny mini-skirt of hers and sank right down on me. Her legs were outside mine so she was able to squeeze us together. While we were out there I not only found out she wasn't wearing a bra; she didn't have any panties on either, and she made no effort to hide the fact her delightful little Mons was well groomed, there wasn't a hair in sight. Yes sir, she'd come ready for bear! I was excited, and I'll admit a little drunk too. I completely forgot about protection. It was incredible. She slid down and pulled me entirely inside. I thought she was going to pull my balls right in behind my Johnson. She rocked up and down, and I shot off a terrific load. It went way up in there. She jerked and moaned and shivered her way to orgasm. Afterward I sat there with my head pressed between two luscious little tits while she had her arms wrapped around my head breathing and panting like she'd just finished the Boston Marathon. After a few minutes rest she pulled away, looked me in the eye and said, "Jesus that was great!" We did it again! Following our second go round she rolled off and sat beside me. After we kissed a couple times she whispered, "You need a reward," so she leaned forward and proceeded to lick my flaccid soldier clean. Every few seconds a residual drop of semen leaked out of the head of my dick. She'd lean forward and lick the drop off. I found a roll of paper towels that had been left over from winter. I got her to kneel up on the seat and used the towels to wipe off her thighs and her vagina. While I wiped her, I used my fingers to crinkle around some more inside her puss and also to gently fingertip the edges of her squeaky little pink peach. It was cool pinching her labia together between my thumb and index finger. Every time I did it she rewarded me with a perky little squeeze of her legs. I was getting tumescent again, but we agreed it was too late so we sat back and watched as wedding guests tooled in and out of the reception hall. Eventually we finished fiddling with each other's privates and got our clothes back in order. We talked some more and exchanged phone numbers and emails. A little later we ambled back inside to the reception. Once inside we sort of drifted apart; I enjoyed the vision of her nice little round ass as she shuffled over to her table. I watched her walk away; she moved in that odd awkward way a woman will step if she feels a little sore. I sauntered off to my table. I said to myself, "Job well done." The newlyweds traveled the tables. They wished everyone well, and were gone. I gathered up my things, and took off for home. All in all it had been a pretty satisfying day. I'd enjoyed a happy wedding, reconnected with a few relatives, and gotten more than I'd planned on in the sex department. The following Monday I went back to work, and completely forgot about Eugenie and our afternoon tryst. Life was good. ++++++++++ Yeah, I'd forgotten, and so for a while had Eugenie. Then just a little over two months after the wedding I got an email followed by a phone message; Eugenie needed to see me. What for, I wondered? We met on a Thursday evening after I left school. It was August and we'd just started back, professional days are what they call them. Eugenie and I got together at a tavern not far from my apartment. Remembering our last get together I was dressed casually. I was a little excited. I expected a possible repeat of the afternoon reception. Eugenie showed up shortly after I did. She was still dressed for work in a smartly fitting dark blue dress, a snappy looking handbag, and a long scarf wrap around her neck. Her hair was held back in a tight bun, and she was still wearing glasses. The hem was more conservative, but the dress did nothing to hide two beautifully sculpted legs. I thought she had the look of the classic upwardly mobile businesswoman. I still didn't think she was wearing a bra. I was already thinking about nearby motel rooms. She somewhat over casually sidled over to the bar where I was sitting and asked if we could find a booth. She said she had something she needed to tell me. I ordered another Coors Lite and she asked if I might get her a glass of Pepsi. I should have known then this wasn't just a social thing. We found an empty booth and she unloaded on me right away, "I recall your name is Chase, Chase McClendon." I replied, "That's right, and you're Eugenie Bonheur." She smiled, "Nice going. You remembered." "I haven't seen you in a while Eugenie. How have you been?" "I'm pregnant Chase, and the baby's yours." Thank God I'd taken a dump before I left work. Otherwise I knew I would've shit my pants right there. All thoughts of an evening romp in the hay left town. I guess she could tell I was somewhat surprised, because she continued to talk, "I know whoever this baby becomes they're yours. We didn't use any protection. I can't use the pill, and I was so high I completely forgot about using spermicide or anything else later." The last thing I wanted to do was get married, and I had absolutely no interest in marrying some woman who'd fuck a guy after just an hour's conversation at a wedding. I asked her, "You want me to help you get rid of it?" She got up, "I can see this isn't going to work," she flipped her scarf around her neck, turned, and started out the door. My first reaction was, thank God, but I suddenly realized she might know some of my family. What if this got back to them? I got out of my side of the booth and hurried to catch her before she got out the door. I got her by the arm, stopped her, and managed to pull her around, "Hey wait a minute." She glared at me, "Wait for what? You made yourself pretty clear." I kept my hand on her arm, but with my other hand I started to steer her back toward the booth, "Not so fast. Come on back. Let's try to work something out." With my arm as a rudder I was able to maneuver her back to the booth. We sat back down. I pursed my lips, steepled my fingers, crossed and re-crossed my legs under the table, crossed my arms on the table top, nervously fidgeted, and finally blurted out, "You're sure it's mine?" She stonily responded, "Positive." I asked again, "Abor...," I couldn't say the word, "early removal isn't an option?" "I'm Catholic." "You need help?" "What do you think?" "OK, what do you want me to do?" "I still live at home. In a couple weeks I'm going to start to show. I'm going to need some cover." I knew what she meant, but I was getting pretty scared, "What do you mean?" "I'm going to need someone who'll stand up and say they're the father." "Don't you have a boyfriend?" She grimaced, "Would I be here if I had a boyfriend," she hesitated, "actually yes I do, but he's black and my parents don't know and they'd kill me if I brought a black man into their house." "So you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend and say the baby's mine." "No, I want you to marry me, then tell my parents you're my husband, and that the baby's yours." I kept thinking, 'shot at sunrise', I'm being shot at sunrise. I replied, "I could tell you to just to get up and leave." She started to get up again. "No," I said, "I don't mean that." She sat back down. My mind drifted all over the place. She was pregnant. She said it was my kid. She had a black boyfriend. He probably had a fifteen inch dick, and used to play defensive end for Florida State before they cut him for chewing the heads off of chickens. Yeah, we'd get married and he'd be in and out, I thought really in and out all the time. Hell, I didn't even know her. She didn't know me either. I told her, "You don't even know me." Eugenie replied, "I asked around. Everyone says you're OK." 'Fuck,' I thought, 'only OK.' I told her, "Well what about you? You OK?" She sighed, "Look I'm not looking for any kind of forever thing. We get married. We stay married until my baby comes. Then we have a fight. We split up, and my baby has a name. My reputation, such as it is, stays clean, and you get to go back to being whatever it is you are." I had to ask, "Well what is it that you think I are?" She leafed through this great purse she had with her, found a sheet of paper, opened it out and responded, "You're a high school math teacher. You teach all levels from general math to Calculus. Your family's well respected in the county, certainly better than mine, but they're poor as piss. You're on track to become your school's math department head, and probably in ten or fifteen years you'll be a principal someplace. You played soccer, volleyball, and lacrosse in college. You belong to the Sunnyvale Sport Club. You like to swim, but don't golf. You got good, not great, grades in college. You went to Runny Meade High School right here in the county. You graduated two years behind me. I went to Park Lawn. You're 5'9", weigh approximately 165lbs., you have blue eyes and sandy colored hair. You have a younger sister and an older brother. You had your appendix out in your junior year of college. You're known around the county as something of a tom cat, but apparently none of the girls seem to mind. And you have some kind of big deal judo belt in Karate or something. Tell me did I miss anything?" "I like dogs." She glanced back down at her paper, "Yeah, your dog, you've got a black lab retriever named Maggie; she's at your parents." I sat back, "All right what about you?" She leaned forward. I think she thought she had me, "I graduated salutatorian from my high school. I was on the dean's list at college all four years. I graduated, took a few additional classes, and got hired as a paralegal. There's no market for students with a degree in Russian Literature even though I speak it fluently. I've been working downtown at Marcum, Baily, and Steinmetz for the past few years. Counting bonuses I make more money than you, and once I get my law degree I'll make a lot more than you'll ever make. I'm something of a slut. I like sleeping and keeping company with black men; not because they're necessarily bigger or better but because I'm white and French and they're flattered, and that makes them easier to control. If you married me I can't promise you fidelity, but I'd give it some serious, no little, no more than likely very little thought." I had this figured out, "All right suppose I agreed to marry you; there'd have to be some stipulations," I couldn't believe what I was saying. I knew I was being snookered. "Like what?" "I'd need a prenuptial. I mean when we divorced I wouldn't care about visitation or any of that shit, but I'd have to have an iron clad guarantee my money and all my property stayed mine. I'd also want a DNA comparison after the baby is born to guarantee it's mine. I'll have to see something from a doctor up front that you're not carrying anything. You know any STDs. You'd have to move in with me. I'd expect you to take care of things. I'd want you to be available when I needed some, you know, relief. You couldn't bring any of your fuck buddies home. You'd have to pay up. By that I mean we'd split the rent, the utility costs, and anything else that came along." She rubbed her chin and replied, "I could agree to all that, but I'd want some things too." "Yeah, like what?" "I'm not into just 'vanilla sex'. Just like my other guys I'd expect variety with you. At some point I'd have to stop working. I'd need your help for a few weeks. I'd expect you to come to Lamaze classes. I'd want you in the delivery room with me. I'll want some help with like exercises or maybe sometimes I might need a massage. I'd reciprocate for the massages," she put her fingers in her mouth to indicate what she meant, "I'd want your last name on my baby's birth certificate. If something happened, heaven forbid, and we needed something from you, say a kidney or a piece of liver or some bone marrow or something, I'd expect you to deliver. After he or she arrived I'd expect you to back off. The baby would be mine, not yours. Don't worry about the money; I'll pay my share, my insurance will cover delivery costs, and about the DNA we can get some amniotic fluid and find out about paternity almost right away." We shook hands and agreed to meet the next afternoon to start the necessary procedures; those included getting blood tests, planning on how we'd break the news to our parents, getting a license, and of course seeing a lawyer. I walked out of the tavern feeling a little bit overwhelmed. I guess I had every right to be, but then if things worked the way I figured I'd make out all right. I'd get help with finances, at least in the short term, I'd get a roommate, I'd have a maid, and for a while anyway, though it would be tricky at first, my parents would stop nagging me about a wife and children. ++++++++++ Things went fast after that. We did get the blood tests. She was clean. She never asked about me. We had our wedding at the courthouse, and only told our parents after the deed was done. My dad was noncommittal. My sister and brother both knew Eugenie, and I'm sure they figured something. My mom was disappointed because she wanted me to have a real wedding, but she took a liking to Eugenie from the first. Her parents were somewhat less open minded. As it turned out Eugenie was an only child. Her parents were new to the country, at least by my family's two hundred year standards; they were very wealthy, or I thought so at the time, and they had high hopes their daughter would marry someone or something better than a public school arithmetic teacher. Her mother, a German, and a graduate from Gottingen University even said as much, "So," she said, "you teach high school arithmetic." I saw Eugenie's embarrassment and I understood the intended sarcasm perfectly. Though I taught advanced Calculus and Algebra III, I did have one class of general math so I replied, "Yep, I teach general math mostly. You know the remedial stuff to hard cases who've failed two or three times," it was a pleasure to watch her gnash her teeth. I thought for a moment she was going to lose a filling. Eugenie's father was a little more philosophical, "Well I suppose love knows no societal bounds." Frankly, to me the whole thing was a half assed business arrangement, plus I was supposedly doing the manly thing. I hardly knew Eugenie, and from what I saw from her parents I figured I probably wouldn't like her let alone feel any companionship. I had to let these bastards know how I felt so I let it rip, "Hell man love's got nothing to do with it. I knocked your daughter up so I'm manning up and taking my medicine." Eugenie gasped. Her mother took a seat, but her father...he smiled, he reached out his hand, and said, "I like you...son. Put er there." I took his hand and we shook. I wasn't sure; maybe one of them wasn't half bad. I retreated somewhat, "I didn't mean it quite the way it sounded. Eugenie and I agreed no matter how we might feel about each other, or how long we might stay together, neither of us wanted to end this pregnancy. There's a child inside your daughter, and I intend to at least help out at the start." Her mother looked at Eugenie, then at me, "Would you like something to drink?" I guessed that was her way of approving of me so in deference to Eugenie I answered, "An iced tea would be nice." The Dentist Neither set of parents was overly excited, but at least they agreed to accept the situation. Neither set was in the least interested in meeting the other. ++++++++++++ Eugenie was indeed just a little over two months along. We back dated and sure enough the afternoon wedding reception was pretty close to being on target. The first three months we spent together was interesting to say the least. She had her 'bloods', and I had a couple little sweeties too. An informal arrangement was worked out. All calls from partners came only over our cell phones. My land line was reserved for telemarketers, official business, and for parents. I'd been dating a tall blond named Melanie. She had no interest in marriage, and her discovery of my 'arrangement' didn't bother her in the least. Even better, since I went to her house Eugenie never had to meet her. On the other hand Eugenie had been dating two black guys; one was a Kenyan named Ken, go figure, and the other was an African-American, a tall fellow, no I'll say gigantic fellow named Muhammad El. Ken was a nice guy, and as soon as we started talking I knew I wouldn't mind sharing my 'business associate' with him. Muhammad El was a different story. The first time he showed up at my, now our, apartment I made the mistake of just calling him Muhammad. He threw a fit; he went on and on about his stolen African identity and a lot of other shit I neither cared about nor understood. Hell, I was ethnically Scottish; what'd I do? My guess was he was trying to 'put me in my place'. Well whatever. Things were crusty around the apartment for a while. I was ceaselessly reprimanded about things like skid marks, leaving the toilet seat up, leaving lights on, not putting my toothbrush away, leaving dishes around the place, and other senseless nonsense. I got on her a little about the morning puking, and the inconvenient medical and Lamaze appointments. I guess I was a little cruel. I did go with her when she needed to see a doctor. I couldn't say exactly when things started to change, but change they did. Maybe it was the first time I heard the baby's heartbeat? Damn, we'd done the amniotic fluid. That was my baby in there! We both saw the baby for the first time together when they did some kind of sonogram. I was beside her when they did it. Eugenie took and held my hand while she watched the screen. I remember how her hand felt soft and small. I recall covering her hand with mine. She had tiny little hands. Actually she was a very small person; certainly a woman, but small in stature like a child. Sleeping arrangements had been a little ponderous. I'd rented a two bedroom apartment so, though we shared a bathroom, we each had some privacy. Those first months were celibate. I mean I had Melanie, and Eugenie had Ken and Muhammad El, so we kept clear of each other. That changed. The first evening after that sonogram and after dinner Eugenie started to behave differently. Her 'matter of fact' tonality changed. She became sweeter, her voice softened. I noticed the flannel shirts disappeared, and different things, feminine things, started appearing late in the evenings. She was still working all day, but after the sonogram she started helping me grade papers. She did the general math class. Then it happened. One night, I suppose it was about two weeks after the sonogram just before she retreated into her bedroom she stopped and, while I was watching something stupid on TV, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I could smell her perfume; it had a soft kind of subtle aroma. I didn't know what I was doing. She was leaning over me with this cute little baby doll nightie on. I mean it was all ribbons and lace with these short sleeves, little capped shoulders, white buttons up the front, and it was made of this snow white translucent cotton. Her hair was pulled up and she had ribbons in it. She was so pretty. I'd been told pregnant women had a glow about them. She was glowing that night. She had a tummy, but she wasn't fat. I did a stupid thing. I pulled her down on my lap. We kissed. It was the first real kiss we'd shared since that afternoon back in June at the reception. Her lips were soft and dry. Her whole body felt warm. The next thing I knew I was carrying her into my bedroom. She had her hands around the back of my neck. She was looking all doe eyed, vulnerable, and just beautiful. It was a Wednesday night. We lay in my bed, side by side. We kissed and touched, and well...we both called in sick from work the next morning. That next morning we stayed in bed until late. I bet I plowed that field a half dozen times, and when I finished she slid down, rested her head on my thigh and started fiddling with me until she got me up again. That last time she made me lie still while she first kissed and then took me in her mouth. She had the softest lips. I watched her. She never looked up at me, but the expression on her face was like she'd found a pot of gold. She was like how I remembered my sister when she was a little girl with her teddy bear; my Johnson was Eugenie's teddy bear. We spent the whole day just relaxing and kind of languidly lying around. Neither of us said much. Friday we both went to work like normal, but Friday night I got some more surprises. Eugenie told me she'd turned in her notice. Starting Monday she'd be home all day. That wasn't the big thing though. After Eugenie told me she'd taken off till after the baby came she added a little more, "Chase I called Ken and Muhammad El today." I was surprised since we seldom talked about our outside interests, "Really," I said. "Yes, I broke things off. I want to stay home and be with you." I was sort of stunned, "Gosh, OK." She asked, "You going to keep seeing that Melanie?" I was done for. All my big plans, all the prenuptial stuff, the business deal, the imminent separation and divorce was about to go right out the window. I answered, "We have a date for tomorrow night. I'll see her and break things off then." That's when Eugenie finished me off, "Chase I think I've fallen in love with you." I sighed, "Yeah, I guess that goes both ways." ++++++++++ The reception had been the first Saturday in June. Eugenie and I had worked out our arrangement and done the courthouse right after Labor Day. The night I carried her into my bedroom had been the Wednesday after Thanksgiving. We talked it over, and decided to bring our parents up to date on the day before Christmas Eve. We set it up to have dinner at our apartment. They all came; my parents, her parents, my brother and sister. They'd all known this marriage wasn't intended to last; we told them our plans had changed. I don't think anyone believed us. They should have. ++++++++++ We were going to make a go of it. Little Maia Aliya McClendon showed up in March. Eugenie and I agreed we'd use French names for any girls and Scottish names if we had any boys. Eugenie assured me we'd only have girls. When I asked her how she knew she explained that the more sex we had the fewer male sperm there were, and she intended to keep my male sperm count way down. She must have known what she was talking about because Lea Marie appeared just two years later. Then after Sophie Capucine arrived the next year we agreed three misses was enough. Eugenie had her tubes tied. I told her I'd get the snip, but she wouldn't hear it. She was scared; she said if she died I might need to remarry, and she didn't want me shooting blanks for any future wives. So we made three kids. We were a real family. We scrimped and saved. We cut coupons. We watched for all the sales, and we shopped Walmart. I got my department head's promotion, and two years later I was promoted to administrative assistant. It took all we had, but we found a house with four bedrooms; it was a split foyer 'fixer upper' surrounded by three acres of weeds. I bought a second hand riding mower, an inexpensive push mower, and a weed whacker. Eugenie bought landscaping ties, tulips, daffodils, crocuses, hostas, flox, fica, and a dozen other different kinds of flowers I'd never heard of. We went to auctions. We visited furniture warehouses and filled the house with the best we could afford. We traded in Eugenie's Toyota and bought a used mini-van. I bought a newer second hand Malibu. We were on our way! I was the happiest I'd ever been in my whole life, and I knew Eugenie was too. There wasn't any money, but believe me there was a hell of a lot of love. Life went on. The kids got older. My brother and sister both got married. My dad died. Then Eugenie's dad died. Our mom's grew closer. Then when Sophie turned seven Eugenie said it was time she went back to work. We talked it over. She'd kept her credentials up to date, and thanks to the wonders of the Internet she'd even taken a few extra law courses. We agreed, though our girls were most likely the smartest kids in the county, it wouldn't hurt to start packing some money away for college. We decided that whatever Eugenie made would be used to start three college funds, and then we'd set a little more aside for those long deferred trips to places like Disney World. Look, we were happy! Eugenie and I had three beautiful little girls. I'd been brought up a Presbyterian, but Eugenie was a devout Catholic. I became a Catholic, a damn good one too. I took classes. I got reacquainted with God. Our girls all did all the things good Catholic girls were supposed to do. I was a public school teacher, but we sent our girls to the Catholic school. Eugenie and her mom wouldn't take no for an answer on that, and by then whatever Eugenie wanted Eugenie got. Every morning before I left for work I kissed my four girls goodbye. I have to admit the children looked terrific in those precious schoolgirl uniforms, and every time we went to school meetings the teachers and the sisters just gushed. Eugenie scouted around. Returning to her old job down in the old city over forty miles away was out of the question. Our county had a pretty populace county seat. There were law firms there. Eugenie found one. She went for an interview and came back with good news. She was able to set her own hours. She'd be able to get our kids off, and leave work early so she could be free in time to pick them up. There was only one down side to the deal. Her new office had sort of an unwritten policy that everyone would stop off at the local watering hole for a brief nightcap and get together Friday's after work. According to Eugenie the whole thing wouldn't keep her out much later than 6:00 or 6:30 at the latest. Since I got off work at 2:30 I said I could pick up the girls at 3:30 their normal dismissal time. It all made sense. Eugenie got started in October, and all that fall right through the winter things went just as planned. Oh every now and then she'd get home of a Friday night close to 7:00, but there were some Fridays she got home before 5:00, and on some Fridays she missed the happy hour altogether. Every once in a while one of her bosses asked her to stay for a late settlement or something, but that happened rarely. Our first real crisis occurred in April of that school year. Maia had just turned twelve and she started to act overtired all the time. We took her to the doctor, he said it was nothing, but she didn't improve. We decided to by-pass our family doctor and went to a specialist. What's a parent's worst nightmare? Yes. Maia had leukemia. Our whole world came crashing down around us. Our daughter, our oldest girl, the girl who'd brought us together could die. I vaguely remembered the agreement Eugenie and I had worked out what thirteen years before. Now it was my time. I stepped up. First they had to use all kinds of chemicals and shit I never heard of to clear out the cancerous material. Then I took over. They jammed in the needle and pulled out the marrow, the good marrow that would save my daughter's life. Guess what? It did. It was a long hard pull, but by the next Christmas it looked like our girl was going to be all right. Were we ever wrong? The God damned cancer came back. That meant back to the chemicals, the treatments, the loss of hair again, the suffering, and the tears at night. The doctors explained it was always harder the second go round. What did we care? This was our girl! We battled through it a second time. This time it worked. Our Maia was really cured. The cancer was defeated! We were saved! There was only one small minor detail. Hospitals are rife with bacterial and viral materials. One them is something called MRSA. This MRSA is a bastard. Thank god it wasn't Maia who got it; it was me! Man I was down for the count. The experts explained that since I'd given up my marrow my immune system was undermined, and that was what made me susceptible. As long as Maia was safe I didn't care. They went to work on me. I'd never heard of so many different kinds of antibiotics. I had enough sick days to be able to miss a whole year's work without loss of pay if I needed to so that wasn't a problem. I lost the sick time, but my salary kept coming in untouched. The problem was when I would be well enough to go back there was no guarantee I'd be back at my old school. So I was out. Maia was out, and our other two girls were in a state of perpetual terror. My mom, being a widow and living alone moved in with us. My mom had become increasingly feeble and less secure. I thought she might be on the front end of Alzheimer's. She was almost as big a burden as the girls. Eugenie was able to keep her job, and now with my mom at our home we believed Eugenie would be able to work full time. There was a problem with that. Eugenie was gone all the time, but Lea and Sophie, scared shitless, became like two clinging vines around their mom whenever she was home. I was either asleep, a grumpy bastard or at the hospital. Maia was home but tired, whiny, and in need of almost constant attention. Then there was Lea and Sophie; they followed their mom around the house day and night. These were children, fragile sensitive little girls; nightmares didn't just occasionally happen they became a commonplace, and there was only one set of hands, one set of breasts that could calm our girls' fears. Poor Eugenie; she worked all day long only to come home and work all night long too. Eugenie had her hands full; it wasn't just the attention and mom's kisses she had to dole out, it was her home cooking, her special iced tea, her special lasagna or spaghetti, or her uniquely special microwaved hot dogs that mattered. Thank God the school system's health care was there. We had some prescription costs, but the big bills flew right over our heads. We saw them of course. Talk about scary! All told it took nearly two years to get back on track. I lost a lot of time, and ended up at a school close to thirty miles away. It was a good school, all our county schools are good, but it put a crimp on other things. Maia missed a lot of time and ended up being held back a whole year. There wasn't anything we could do about that. Hell we were all just glad we were all still together. I'll say one thing; it took a toll on Eugenie. She'd aged in those two years. How she did it I'll never know, but she was always there for us. I mean always, but she was always so weary. Well we were off and on our way again. Maia was thirteen nearly fourteen, Lea almost eleven, and Sophie was nine. I had my old job back, at a different place, but I could make new friends and build a new reputation. My mom was with us during the day to help out with the kids, and Eugenie had become an important fixture at her law firm. Things were good again. At least they were for a while. ++++++++++ They tell me a man can sense it; sense it when something's not right with his wife. I couldn't put my finger on it, but long about the end of fall, sometime after Thanksgiving of our fourteenth year of marriage I began to feel, feel in my bones, something just wasn't quite right. Eugenie was her old self in most ways, but there seemed to be other things. For one the Friday night good time hour at her work was running a little later than it used to. Now instead of the 6:00-6:30 get home it was closer to 7:00-7:30 and sometimes even an 8:00 get home. There were more late afternoon and evenings during the regular week. Wednesday's seemed to be a biggie at her office. When I asked her about it she blew me off. She said the firm was growing with the county, and they needed her more and more for late afternoon and evening settlements. I noticed a modest but real change in her wardrobe. The heels were a little higher, the hems a little shorter, the makeup a little heavier, and the blouses seemed just a tad more translucent. I especially noticed she spent more time getting ready for work on Wednesdays and Fridays. I guess none of that seriously bothered me but sometime around Christmas her tone, her tone toward the children, but particularly toward me got rougher. Something was wrong. Each of our work places had their Christmas parties. Ours, being a school, was usually right after work. They usually only lasted an hour or two since there were always several mothers who had to get home to their families. Eugenie's office parties were always bigger affairs, and this year's party was no exception. Her bosses had set it up at the country club. Eugenie and I both belonged to a club, but it was mostly a sports club. They had a pool, a gym, tennis and squash courts, and a small dance area with a nonalcoholic bar. The country club Eugenie's bosses belonged to was a more exclusive affair. It had a full restaurant that was open to the public year round. I enjoyed eating there, and though the food was passably good the prices were astronomical. They had a casual dining area downstairs, a large dance area, a huge what I'd call a settlement or social room with several dozen couches and easy chairs, and of course on certain nights there was an open bar. They'd set the party up for a Friday night two weeks before Christmas. Other club members would be there, but a large section of tables was set aside for her law firm. I always enjoyed her firm's parties. I liked the people. Some of the older lawyers were there more in an advisory capacity, and their wives were some of the most interesting and entertaining people I'd ever met. I was looking forward to going. The night of the big party came. I slipped into my dark grey pinstriped suit. Eugenie had bought a new black dress that to me was the cat's meow. Her hair was up, her makeup was perfect, and she was terrific! We got there right on time and settled in. Eugenie and I got to sit near the Capezios; this was an older couple. I especially like Bernice Capezio. She was a regular at our church, and just someone people liked to be around. Between the food, the dancing, and the conviviality I had a terrific time. Well I had a terrific time for the most part. Like I said there were other club members there in addition to the law firm. I wouldn't say the place was packed, but it was well attended. There was one man there I noticed. He was one of the town's dentists, or dental surgeon as I heard he liked to be referred to. I was thirty-nine. I guessed the dentist was a maybe seven or eight years older. I knew he owned one of the big mansions north of town. I'd heard he'd been married a couple times but had no children. I had to admit he was an eye catching fellow. He was easily six maybe seven inches taller than me. He had a football players build, and that shock of blond hair and those icy blue eyes I'm sure had landed him more than his share of babes in his younger days. My wife was something of an unofficial office hostess so it was partly her responsibility to circulate and make sure everybody was having a good time. As the night wore on I spent more time with Mrs. Capezio just talking about this and that. My wife was gone most of the time, but she'd stop back over every once in an awhile to check up on things. The Dentist I was really proud of her. I loved her so much, but I couldn't help but notice that no matter where she was the dentist was always close by. I asked Mrs. Capezio if she knew the man. Mrs. Capezio in a gravelly voice I didn't know at the tame was an indication of cancer of the larynx told me his name was Vincent Gilchrist that he'd gone through two wives, and had something of a reputation as what she called a lothario and that he'd been at the core of more than one marital break up in the county. I listened to Mrs. Capezio, I watched my wife, and I watched Gilchrist. I couldn't help it; I started to have this sinking feeling. My stomach started to knot up. I was careful, but I kept a watchful eye on things. My wife and this Gilchrist weren't just acquaintances. The eye contact was too subtle, there were too many nonverbal messages. I wondered. I started to worry. I was sure of my wife; I just wasn't sure of the old hound dog. On the way home that night I asked a few of what I considered pretty innocent questions. I started, "Wasn't that one guy the dentist Vincent Gilchrist?" Eugenie grunted, "He's a dental surgeon." "Oh," I said, "do you see him much?" She rolled her eyes at me, "Why do you ask that?" I replied, "Oh I don't know. He seemed to be hanging around you a lot, that's all." "He stops in the office sometimes." "A dentist, I mean dental surgeon, hanging out at a lawyer's. Does he have many, you know, lawsuits?" My wife shifted her weight around, "He's good friends with two of my bosses." That surprised me because I didn't see him once, not once, come over and visit with any of the lawyers. I told her, "He never came over and saw any of the lawyers." She was quick and brusque, "He didn't want to spoil our party." That didn't make one iota of sense to me, and I told her, "That's doesn't make any sense. My guess is if they're friends they'd want him to stop over." She looked out the window into the darkness, "That's what you know." I knew I'd been dismissed. She'd been doing a lot that lately. We drove home the rest of the way in silence; something we seldom used to do. When we got home my mom was asleep on the sofa in the living room. I went over and pushed the blanket up more tightly around her. She didn't stir. I went back to Eugenie and went to put my arms around her. I knew neither of us had drunk very much so with the kids asleep, and just being the two of us on a Friday night this could be an opportunity for some affection. As I went to put my arms around my wife she backed away, "Get your mother up and take her home." "Gee Eugenie," I pleaded, "she's sound asleep. This is a chance for..." She cut me off, "I'm tired. I need to get some sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow." This was news to me. I ignored her, "Come on sweetie we haven't been together in weeks," and we hadn't. She started up the steps, "Get your mother home. I'm going to bed. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow." I was pissed, "I know I heard you the first time," I followed her up the stairs, "I'm letting my mother sleep, and I want some nookie." Eugenie turned almost knocking me down the steps, "Use your hand," then she spun back around and trounced on upstairs. Well I wasn't using my hand, but I thought about some things. For one she'd been a hell of a lot less affectionate lately, and every time I'd tried to get near her there'd been some excuse. I understood she was full time, I was traveling a much greater distance, and there'd been some money issues. About the money; the house wasn't new when we bought it. Lately we'd had to have new siding and a new roof put on. We were on a well and the drain field had clogged up to the tune of $5,000.00. We'd never had a lot of money, and these things, plus the new heat pump, the new dishwasher, and the refrigerator we'd had to replace had all put a burden on our finances. It wasn't like I hadn't been trying. Hell, I'd signed up to teach a night course starting next semester at the community college. I knew that would help. Then there was the dentist; I couldn't get Gilchrist out of my head. There was something going on. I was sure of it. ++++++++++ We got through the holidays. Christmas was a blast. New Years was spent at my brothers. That wasn't so good. Eugenie wanted to go to the lawyer's country club. She said we'd been invited, but she never said who'd invited us. School started back up, and, excepting for a couple snow days, things went back to normal, at least as normal as they'd been just before Christmas. I knew something was wrong. Eugenie was different. She was away too much. She'd started disappearing some Saturday afternoons. I knew it was time to do something. I called my brother. My brother was a mason. I don't mean the kind that gets together and talks and does do gooder stuff. No he's a mason. He works in marble, and slate, and cement. January and February are always bad months for him. It's too cold for a lot of what he does. He and I got together, and I told him what I was worried about. He told me he had some time. He said he'd keep an eye out. Meanwhile I went back and forth from work to home. We ate together. We talked to the kids. They shared their school activities with us, but Eugenie and I we didn't say anything to each other? It was like it was when we were first married. When I tried to initiate something in bed she'd roll away. If I tried to start a conversation she'd hide in a book or get out some work. Not since the troubles we'd had with Maia and then my problem with MRSA had I felt so helpless. Keep an eye out is exactly what my brother did. Long about the third week in February my brother showed up at the door, "Chase I'm sorry." It was a Wednesday evening. The kids were in the living room, and Eugenie was still not home, "So what have you got?" "There's this dentist." "Gilchrist," I asked? "Then you know." "Not really." "Well I'll tell you I can't prove anything, but his office is across and just down the street from where Eugenie works. They're there right now. She'd been there since maybe 2:00 p.m. This is a regular thing. They also meet up sometimes on Thursdays at his house. He keeps a light schedule on Thursdays so he can golf and such. One of the things he does on Thursday is meet up with Eugenie. And Friday nights. She usually ducks out of her office happy hours early to meet up with him at either his house or his office. I'm sorry Chase. I wish I had better news." I wanted to cry, but my kids were in the other room and my brother was right in front of me so I just shrugged, "Thanks bro." He asked, "So what's the plan?" "I don't know. I guess I'll confront her tonight when she gets home." "You sure? That sounds stupid to me." "I know, but I can't think of anything else." He hugged me, "Well let me know." I walked him to the door, went back in the kitchen and sat back down. I checked the clock. It was 7:30. At 9:00 I got up and sent the kids to bed. Then I went back to the kitchen and waited. Eugenie pulled up the drive shortly after 9:30. She came in, looked around and asked, "What the kids in bed?" I stared at her, "It's Wednesday night." She started out of the room, "I've got to shower up; got another busy day tomorrow." I couldn't keep it in, "What going to fuck the dentist again tomorrow?" She turned. For a moment the truth was written all over her face, but she recovered nicely, "Don't give me any of your shit." "It's not shit and you know it. So tell me what is it going to be?" She started toward me, "You make me sick little man. I ought to divorce you and let you try to fend for yourself." I got up and stared her down, "You want a divorce? You want the dentist?" She was really venomous, "He's a dental surgeon, and he's ten times the man you'll ever be." That was it! She'd blown the lid right off. I realized we were probably done, "Yeah he's a surgeon. He's sure carved this family up, carved it up nicely. What do you want me to do," God I wanted to run; no scratch that! I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and strangle her! She replied and none too nicely, "You could pack up and leave." I'd had it. I put on my teacher disguise, "Look let's get the kids off to school in the morning. We can both take tomorrow off. I've still got time, and Lord knows when we're through you can run over to your new man in plenty of time to suck his cock." "You bastard," she replied. Then she looked around, and she nodded her head, "You sleep downstairs tonight. Tomorrow we'll get the kids off and talk this out." I smiled, "Works for me," I waited till after midnight. I could hear her tossing and turning upstairs. I thought about her, about me, about our situation. I realized Eugenie had been using work as an escape; an escape from the horrible realities our home had become with first Maia, then me, and then with the money. The dentist certainly saw her vulnerability and had probably gone to work on her. I had no way of knowing for sure, but I'd heard about his reputation. This man was a real smooth operator, a demon. He knew how to massage a susceptible ego, how to be the comforting shoulder, the slightly older, wiser, attentive, caring, and understanding sympathetic dependable 'other' man. Then I had a hunch there was something else; something darker than death, murkier than the gloomiest grimmest slough, blacker than midnight, something hidden away in the deepest recesses of Eugenie's most hidden being. There was Maia. I could only imagine Eugenie's thoughts, but I knew they were there. What if all those years ago she'd acquiesced to the abortion? There never would have been a Maia, never been a marriage, no leukemia, no MRSA, no debt, no struggle, no responsibility, no anxiety, no pain. It would have been easy to have bailed all those years ago, but she hadn't. She'd done what was right; not what was easy. I felt for Eugenie. Just the thought of abortion; of aborting Maia, just to think of the guilt she might be grappling with upstairs. We'd built a life, a family. We created a baby and named her Maia. We'd built on that; we made two more, given them names, shaped their personalities. I once heard a baby is like a blank sheet of paper. Parents spend their whole lives trying to turn that blank sheet into a fine tapestry, a work of art. Maia's leukemia had been like a spike that had driven itself straight into the heart of all that mattered. Life, children; they can be heartbreaking. I knew what Eugenie was thinking. Of course it was desperation and fatigue that drew those horrid thoughts to the surface, but just the thought could drive her to despair. The guilt she could be feeling would be overwhelming, all consuming. I pitied her, but there was nothing I could do. After an hour or so I took a Xanax. I slept like a baby after that. ++++++++++ We got the kids up and off to school. I called out sick. Eugenie did the same. I made a pot of coffee and poured us each a cup. We sat down. I felt pretty good considering, I mean considering my whole world was coming apart. I looked over at her and couldn't tell a thing. I started, "You want a divorce?" She nodded first then replied, "Yes." "What about the kids?" She looked at me. The expression on her face was lifeless, dead. She murmured, "Can't you keep them?" "Christ," I shouted, "you're their mother!" That woke her up. She shouted back, "All right you wimpy worthless piece of shit. I want the kids, the house, I want all the money, I want all our accounts. I want your 403B. I'll expect half your pension when you retire. I expect alimony, and child support," she took a deep breath, "I want your balls. I'm going to cut your limp dick and your impotent balls off! You mother fucker! I wish I never met you!" I ignored the vitriol, but the truth was I was pretty sure she could get most of what she said she wanted. I wasn't born yesterday. In our state the wife held all the cards. Though I knew it was there, I had no proof of infidelity. She had all the answers. I thought, why fight? I told her, "All right you get a lawyer. I'll get a lawyer, and we'll work this out. She really hollered at me then. This time I got the full package. Yeah all the puss came surging out, "I want out of here. I hate this house. I hate our life. I hate dishwashers, ironing, and runny noses. I hate kids crying and screaming at me all day! I hate you! Look at me! I'm forty-one. I'm pre-menopausal. I get hot flashes. I have to dye my hair. You don't have a bit of grey! Not one fucking grey hair! I want my life back! I want to go places. See things! I want to go to Disney World. I want to lie on the sand in Hawaii. I want to go surfing! I want to go to Paris and look out over the city from the Eiffel Tower! I want to go to New York and actually see the place." She got up and started pacing back and forth, "I want to spend a week in New York in a fancy hotel. I'm sick of shitty one day trips with kids hanging on my skirt tails while we ride up in a dirty bus, buy a Reuben sandwich, get tickets to a Broadway play, watch it, come out, buy a crappy piece of pizza and ride a fucking bus back! I want to live. I want to go scuba diving! I want to snorkel. I want my God damn mother fucking freedom!" I sat back and listened. I think I understood her. She was tired, tired of work, tired of the responsibility of raising three kids, tired of worrying, she just wanted to run away. And I bet good old Vincent Gilchrist was just the guy to give her everything she thought she wanted. It occurred to me. Poor Eugenie; she was close to the edge, she was used up, exhausted. One afternoon in June something happened that forever changed her life. She had dreams, she had plans, she had hopes, but nothing worked out like she thought. She was afraid. The truth was, if she ever needed me, it was now, but I knew I wasn't what she thought was the answer. I wasn't her savior anymore. I'd become her enemy. I tried to be calm, "Eugenie nobody gets everything they want. Try to see what you have. You have a husband who loves you. There's the kids. OK, maybe this isn't the mansion you dreamed of, but a house is not a home," I could tell she wasn't listening to a thing I was saying, but I had to try. "Eugenie you don't live your life on a beach in Hawaii. Life isn't a week in New York, I tapped the side of my head, "Eugenie this is where you live. You could be in Gilchrist's big house. You could be in a slum shack in some inner city, but no matter where you live you still have to live with yourself." She glared at me, "You have no idea how much I hate you." I knew it was over, but once more into the breach I thought, "Sweetheart try to think. Our youngest daughter's middle name is Capucine. You remember how we debated that name. Capucine was a big movie star. She had money, beauty, she had men, she had it all. Then one day she jumped off a roof nine stories above the ground. All the things she had didn't amount to a hill of beans. Eugenie don't throw your life away. You're young. I'm still young. Think of Maia's dance, Lea's pony. Sophie wants to be like her sisters. Damn it Eugenie they all want to be just like you! They love you. They idolize you. You're like a goddess to them. They're going to need us; their mom and dad. I mean me, their real dad," I looked at her. Where once I saw life and vigor I saw only boredom and impatience. I was spitting into the wind. She got up, "I'm going for a ride. Try to be gone when I get back." I knew if I left I'd probably lose even more than property, but I didn't care. I needed to get away. The difference between Eugenie and me though; she was trying to run away from everything, I was just stepping out of the way. After she left I packed up my stuff. It was kind of sad really. Aside from a few tools there just wasn't that much there. I know I took one thing. I took our family album. When she got back from Gilchrist's I'd be gone. I'd go to my mom's. As I pulled away I didn't feel angry or sad or anything. It was like my wife had died. I guess I died a little that morning too. ++++++++++ Well I got a lawyer and Eugenie got hers. Her lawyer was the same woman Gilchrist had used for his two divorces. She was a real piranha; she picked me clean, right down to the bone. My lawyer was a man. They negotiated I guess. I wanted to fight it out in court, but my lawyer told me I didn't stand a chance. I took what was coming, but it worked out worse than I expected. Back before we got married we'd cobbled together a prenuptial agreement. Neither of us had a clue back then. I'd signed over all my visitation rights regarding Maia. What I didn't know was the way the old agreement was worded it just said children. Eugenie's lawyer had worked it so that it meant all three of my kids. Then to hammer it home they got out a restraining order to guarantee that I didn't try to see them on my own. The original agreement had protected my pre-marriage assets. Those assets, not counting the car, came to less than $1,700.00. To rub it in they prorated the value of the old car in comparison to my newer used Malibu. The difference cleaned out most of the $1,700.00. On the last day the whole time we sat there; me on one side of the table with my lawyer and Eugenie on the other side with hers she didn't look at me, not once. When it was over she and her lawyer got up and walked away. Honestly I thought she looked tired, really worn out. I know one thing. I looked good. I made sure of that. The divorce went through. The content was passed by a judge, but there was never any mention of counseling or reconciliation. Someone had taken care of that. Eugenie allowed me one night a week of 'supervised' visitation, and one Sunday afternoon every other weekend provided the kids weren't busy. About my visitation rights; what they'd done was write down every incident where I'd ever yelled at one of the kids or used profanity. The way it was worded any outsider would have seen me as some kind abusive bastard. What they'd written made me look like some sick son-of-a-bitch. Then another thing about visitation I found out pretty quick; they weren't available if they were busy doing something else. As it happened, the kids were always busy. We were separated. The days and the weeks slowly ticked by. I was miserable. I missed my wife, and I missed my kids. Sure I thought about Eugenie's betrayal. I thought about her and that dentist fucking each other day and night while I was either at work or home watching the kids. Sometimes I couldn't decide who I hated more, Eugenie or the dentist. I mean one was a sick bitch trying to escape responsibility; the other was just an amoral bastard. I worried about my kids. Eugenie wouldn't let my mom near the kids, but her mom, though sick with emphysema, was allowed to see them. Thank God. Eugenie's mom saw the truth. She couldn't get the kids to me, but she sure could fill me in on what was going on. According to her, and I believed her, Eugenie and Gilchrist were going at it hot and heavy. That made me feel worse. I had dreams of me putting salt-peter in his coffee and not even Viagra could get him up. They'd hired a nanny, and the kids seldom saw their mom. Yeah, Eugenie was running away from everything and everyone. The kids I was told were miserable. They were desperate to see me. Eugenie's mom was even scared to let them talk to me on the phone. She was afraid her daughter would find out and pull the plug on her. I moved back in with my mother. She was in failing health. I kept working, trying to put a little money aside. Not much chance of that, between alimony and child support I was pretty much cleaned out. That was another thing.