317 comments/ 289561 views/ 114 favorites An Unacceptable Situation By: Matt Moreau I'd just said goodbye to Ben when I got the call from my wife. She sounded odd, distant. It, the call, had short shanked my usual Friday afternoon beer fest at the Hop and Grape, my favorite hangout. I was home twenty minutes later: the clock read 5:27. I would remember the time; it spelled the end of my sixteen year marriage to Zoe Conyers. I'm Bill Conyers, 37, and in every way your average Joe. I'm an ex-army electrician. I'm currently working for the city: I'm a garbage collector, go figure. It's a pretty good living; but, I'm hoping to someday own my own electronics business. "Thanks for coming home early, Bill," said Zoe. "I—we—Caroline and I, need to talk to you." My gaze floated over toward my teenaged daughter; her face was impassive." I sent her a half smile; she's always been the light of my life. "Okay," I said. "I'm here. What's going on?" "Bill, there's no easy way to say this, but Caroline and I are leaving," said Zoe. "Leaving? For where?" I said, not getting it. "Bill, I'm divorcing you. You will be served with the papers today. I didn't want to just have some stranger dumping them on you—well—anyway that's why I asked you to come home early. I mean so I could tell you, be up front with you. I glanced back and forth between then two of them. Fear was beginning to register in my gut. "Huh?" "I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, Bill. It just happened. I'm sorry," she said. "Caroline?" I said, looking over toward my daughter. She looked away. I was beginning to hurt—real bad! "Who is he?" I said. I could feel my face getting hot, my stomach start to roil, I felt tingly—and none of it was good. I was stunned, right enough, but not totally dead in the head. If she—they—were leaving there had to be a man. I was undoubtedly already a cuckold, but if so, I had been an unknowing one. "I suppose you'll find out sooner or later anyway. It's John Kurst, Bill. He's a real estate developer. He's a nice man, Bill. He can do more for Caroline—well—than..." "Than me," I said, finishing up her line. It is amazing how quickly mild interest, even concern, can morph into the purest of hatreds. "You're dumping me—the both of you—for money? I haven't been up to your standards is that it?" I said. "I maybe don't smell too good at the end of work day, Zoe, but, at least I don't have the stench of betrayal on me. "Caroline? Nothing? You've got nothing to say? I'm your daddy for chryssakes! You've got nothing to say to me?" I was pissed and hurt and at a loss. "Bill..." "I guess all it takes is some rich guy to buy you two off. Is that it? His money? Well, money ain't the only thing, and it don't guarantee happiness, not by a long shot," I said. Bitter didn't even begin to describe my feelings at that moment. "There's no need to be sarcastic, Bill. I'm trying to make this as easy as I can for you," she said. "Yeah, right," I said. "You been fucking him? This Kurst fuckwad!" "Bill, Caroline is right over there," said Zoe. I looked over to Caroline. "Okay. Well then, Caroline, has she?" I said. I was bitter and angry, and about to lose control. "Huh?" said my fifteen year old daughter. "Has your mother been fucking this asshole?" I said. "William Conyers! Caroline is your daughter!" screamed Zoe. . "And she's choosing to live with the asshole who cuckolded me, and who has, by definition, been fucking you?" I said. The battle was on; it lasted some minutes. I was at least not wimping out. I was mad and hurting big time, but not wimping out. Caroline ran out of the room; I guess the yelling was too much for her. "All right, Bill, if that's your attitude, I guess we'll just have to accept it," said Zoe, finally giving up any hope of pacifying me. And, as bad as this was, worse was in the offing. She stood and took one last look at me: her look was nothing if not one of pity. I stood too, then, sat heavily back down in my chair. I heard the front door slam. They were gone. I was alone. My life sucked. ****** After a minute or two I got up and strode into the living room. I noticed things right away. They'd already moved everything they were going to take out of the house. Almost nothing, that would remind me that just hours before I'd been a family man remained. Now, I was alone and sick at heart. It was bad enough that Zoe was fucking someone else, but that Caroline was evidently okay with it killed me inside. That one I would one day exact revenge for; I promised myself that much; I just wasn't exactly sure of who on. No one had the right to come between a man and his children, and children didn't have the right to dump on a loving parent. She'd planned well had Zoe. I was served not five minutes after the two of them left. The server must have been waiting nearby for them to leave. Her lawyer had evidently advised her, at least so it appeared, to sell the house and divide the assets. Apart from the house we didn't have much, so in practical terms there was not much to divide. Anything that did have a little value in it, she had already taken. As a backstabbing, betraying whore, I had to admit that my soon to be ex-wife was pretty high up the food chain. I signed the papers and sent them to her lawyer. At least I was spared the indignity of having to pay for my own screwing; she paid him, or her lover did. Well, I guess there's upside to almost anything. After the house sale, which I did my best to help expedite—hey, it was in my best interest—I moved out and into a very small studio apartment a bit nearer to work. When all was said and done, I had eleven thousand dollars in my account and not a damn thing else. But, I didn't have any bills, not even car payments; both cars were free and clear. I did have a job, even if it was one that my two ex-family members were apparently ashamed of. Still, I was thinking, that since I no longer had to provide for anyone but me, that I might make a change in that department; the little money I had could go for that. There was no alimony requirement. She evidently planned to marry his fuckwadship as soon as the ink was dry on the final decree. That figured to be about four more months from now, the way I figured it. We were headin' in one day after a fairly grueling day on the job. Ben was on my elbow, "Wanna get a couple of cool ones?" he said. "Yeah, sure, what the hell," I said. The Hop and Grape was busy for a Friday afternoon and Ben and I added to the commotion. I'd done more mopin' than funnin' in recent times. It occurred to me that I had to get on with things and stop feeling sorry for myself—easier said than done. As the afternoon turned to early evening, Ben and I were feeling pretty good. Marian Kelly, a clerk among the twenty or so at the lot, where we parked our trucks, was there. She looked good. Short gray skirt, dark blouse, high heels: she looked great. "Hear you're single again," said Marian. I looked her up and down trying to be as obvious as I could; well, she did look good. Ben smiled at me. I had the feeling he knew something I didn't. "Will be soon, a couple of months I guess. But, you're married," I said. I was actually fishing. I had never even talked to Marian more than to say good morning or the equivalent; I had no idea if she were married or not. Ben laughed. "I'm headin' out. You two have a nice," he said. Marian winked at him and I caught it. He was gone without another word. She laughed. "Ben's a nice guy," she said. I nodded. "I'm not married, Bill. I'm divorced for two years now. I thought you knew. I thought everybody knew," she said. "Ha! That's probably why no one has asked me out." She laughed. Are you saying you haven't gone out at all in the past two years!" I said, hardly believing her. "That's right. I mean except to hang out here with the other girls and all you married guys," she said. "You wanna drink?" I said. "I wanna be your first date. I mean right now. We'll have a drink and get out of here. Okay?" "Whoa, soldier. You're not thinking of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of thing are you?" she said. She looked seriously concerned. "No, no, I just don't want some other cowboy coming on to you before I can get my name on your dance card," I said. Now she smiled. "Okay then, it's a date. Oh, and I'll have a white wine," she said. We sat at the bar, sipped our drinks, and after about half an hour, we made to go out. "We gotta go to my apartment first, if that's okay, Marian. I do need to shower and change. I want to take you somewhere a little more upscale than Mac's," I said. "Sure bet, sailor." She said. She followed me home. I sat her down in my little front area, handed her an MGD from the fridge, and disappeared into the back to get cleaned up and dressed acceptably. We took her car; my truck wasn't all that sweet smelling; I'd have to rectify that at some point if I was going to be dating again. It was the first time in months that I had talked to a woman about anything but necessary job related stuff. Until this moment, I had thought of no other woman, in a social sense, but my wife, and those thoughts had all been bad thoughts: death by fuel injection, burial alive in the county landfill, crucifixion on a fiery cross, things like that. But, now I had a chance to redeem at least a part of my life. The Blue Bayou served real Cajun food and I was in the mood. Marian at first looked askance at all of the greasy calories, but got into it after a while. "I don't eat this way every day," I said, laughing. I just wanted to do something crazy; I hope it's okay. I've been in a blue funk ever since they left me. But, you, coming over to—well—saved me." "Glad to be of service," she said. "And yes, the food is fine. I like the atmosphere too." "Marian?" "Huh?" she said. "I really needed to have a woman to talk to—be with. It was like I was afraid that no woman would want me. I mean even my own kid..." I started to breakup. She put her hand gently on my arm. Oh my, a woman's touch is among the most wonderful of things, just her touch alone, I thought. "Bill, it's okay. And, for your information, the girls at the lot are talking about you behind your back. They're of two minds in case you care. One group wonders what you did to sour your marriage. The others are looking to see if they can score with you. You have nothing to worry about in the woman department. You will have to quit all the mopey stuff though. A woman doesn't want to be dealing with all of the neediness; you need to be the man you were before the breakup," she said. "Hmm," I said. "And just in case you care, girl, the reason for the breakup; well, it was evidently purely a money thing. He's rich and I'm just an average Joe. So, she traded up. My daughter though—that one hurts real bad." "I can imagine," she said. We talked for some time, danced a little to the muted Dixieland band, and had a few too many martinis. She took me home at around 11:00PM. She kissed me, but did not accept my invite in. "Maybe another time," she said, "but, not this time." "You busy tomorrow night?" I said. She looked at me. "No." "Wanna go out? I'll clean up my car," I said. She smiled. "Okay," she said. "Since you're willing to clean up your car for me how can I refuse?" ****** Marian and I dated after that most weekends. I was like a high school kid, even to the point of making out with her in the theater. I'd almost forgotten what it was like, dating a woman, but I was able to get back on track pretty quickly—call me a quick re-learner. We were sitting at Bob's Big Boy, chewing on the best hamburgers on the planet, when I made the decision. "Marian, I'm gonna be quitting tomorrow," I said. I think I even surprised myself. It's not like I hadn't been thinking about it. But, I had, until that moment, made no decision. Now, I had. "Quit? Why? Whatever for?" she said. "Well, I have a little money, and I have decided to go into business for myself," I said. "What business?" she said. "An electronics repair and installation service," I said. "I don't even need a shop, just a twenty-four hour hotline and my tools. I've got most of what I'll need right now; it's been my hobby since I was in the army. I can be up and operational in a week's time most." She sat back in her seat and eyed me. "How will this impact us?" she said. "Shouldn't at all," I said. "As we've talked about before, my divorce will be final by the end of the week. After that, my ex won't have any claim on anything I do, I mean after the final decree. "Marian, I'm no fortuneteller, but I might be able to make a real go of this if I can just get things to break right for me, and with a little luck I think I can. "When I was married, my wife wouldn't even consider letting me quit my steady job with the city. The irony in that is that she eventually dumped me mainly because of my 'nothing,' as she saw it, job. But, I no longer have that constraint. I'm gonna go for it. I have to," I said. "I don't wanna be ninety and talkin' about what might have been. The time is now." "Wow!" she said. "Well, good. You should go for it. "I imagine you've looked into the market for this kind of thing," she said. "Yes, I have. I have to do more, but there is a market, especially with the computer thing going so crazy. I can do hardware and software, so that's a plus too," I said. ****** I gave two weeks' notice to the city. I knew it wouldn't be hard to replace me, but it made it easier for Clyde, our boss, to get someone else without having to hurry up. It was my last day when the boss approached me. "Well, Bill, looks like your single again now and going into business for yourself. A complete new start for you, huh," he said. "Yeah, Clyde, and I guess I'm looking forward to it to. It would have been nice to have my family in on it, but..." Bill, there's someone waiting for you on the dock outback," he said. He looked kinda sheepish. "Who?" I said. "Your daughter," he said. My look must have cued him. "Yeah, I know you had your problems with her and your wife, but for the record, she seems anxious to talk to you." "Okay, thanks, boss. I'll see her. It's been seven months since the last time. I have to admit that I'm curious as to what she wants," I said. She looked pretty in her little red sundress. I had to admit to a little bit of pride there even if she had helped her mother stomp my ego along with my heart into the ground. "Daddy!" she cried coming up to me and hugging me. Her enthusiasm surprised me. "Yeah, I'm still that, I guess," I said. "Daddy, you will always be that to me," she said. "I've been mad at myself since that day we left. I mean the way we treated you, me and mom." "Okay?" I said. I didn't trust myself to respond. I still harbored a whole lot of anger; yes, even toward my daughter. And, yes, I know how bad that sounds. "I miss you, dad," she said. "Do you have time to go eat?" "Now?" I said. She nodded. I had a date with Marian in half an hour. I made the call. "Hi...yeah...I'm going to be late...Caroline is here...yeah...wants to talk...okay, an hour and half is good." I hung up. Caroline gave me a look. "A friend?" she said. "Let's go," I said, ignoring her fishing expedition. Denny's wasn't crowded. We took a booth in the back. The waitress came; the food as ordered arrived; we ate mostly in silence and then settled in to talk. "You look nice, Caroline," I said. I knew I sounded formal, but it was how I was feeling. She noticed. "Dad, I'm you daughter, not some stranger's kid," she said, reacting to my tone. I nodded. "Yeah, but you're living with some stranger as his kid," I retorted. "And, this old daddy of yours, as you call me, hasn't seen or heard from you—or my ex-wife—in many months. How am I supposed to deal with that?" "I know. That's mainly why I came today. I wanted to make sure you knew that I still consider you my dad. My only dad!" she said, emphatically. "Really," I said. "Yes, really," she said. What I said and did next might be considered cold by some, but I counted it as necessary. "Thank God," I said enthusiastically. "Call your mom, and tell her we will be picking up your stuff tomorrow morning." "Picking up my stuff?" she said looking me askance. "Yes, I mean if you're still my baby, then you'll be staying with me, right?" I said, still acting the joyous dad part. Her face fell as I knew it would. "But, dad, I can't just..." she started. "Yeah, I figured," I said, dropping all pretense of joy. "So why did you bother coming here, really? If you have another dad that has that kind of hold on you, how can you say that I'm still your only dad? Tell me, I'd really like to know." "Daddy, that's not what I meant—I mean—I mean..." she got up and ran out. The hurt I'd felt months before came back to me. Oh, I knew she had feelings for me, but I couldn't get by the reality that shear economics had made me a second class daddy; I blamed her momma for that. I headed home to get ready for my delayed date with Marian. ****** I refused to let my upset with my daughter to interfere with my date with Marian. I had a right to be happy too, damn it, and Intended to be. My wife had dumped on me, cheated on me, cuckolded me; it was time for me to get a little back. I was not intending to mess with Marian out of revenge only. Oh no, I was doing it for me, and, I hoped, for her too. She seemed to want me even if my cheating whore of a wife did not, and I for damn sure wanted Marian. Tonight was the night. I looked at my watch the movie started in about three hours. That allowed us enough time to eat first and have a couple of drinks. I was early. I looked at her door from behind the wheel of my car. I was half an hour early; she was going to think I was anxious. Well hell, I was. I got out and headed up the walkway. Mounting the three steps I knocked. No answer. I knocked louder. I heard a rustling inside. The door opened a crack. "Bill! You're early," she said. "Count to ten and then come in." She clearly wasn't ready. I counted and went in. She'd evidently headed toward the back of the house, to her room. "Get yourself a beer from the fridge," she called out from the back. "Okay, thanks," I said, "sorry for being so early. Guess I was anxious." "Never mind, I'll be out in a few minutes. Just relax and have a beer." She went silent , and I got me the beer. I took a seat by the big bay window and looked out on the view of the street and neighborhood in and around the front of her house. It was a nice place, the house; I knew she was renting and paying a pretty penny for the privilege too. A waste? I guess it was a matter of what one valued. "Hi," she said. "Hi back atcha," I said. "Hope I didn't upset you too much. I was just nervous and all, and well anxious. Sorry." She smiled, "Never mind, just give me a call next time if you're in that much of a hurry we'll make adjustments, okay?" "Sure bet. Uh—I figured we'd go out to eat have a couple of drinks, and then catch a movie. That okay?" I said. "Sounds good," she said. We headed out. The food was good; the port wine after dinner was very nice. We pulled up to the entrance to the theater. The Garden was a holdover from the fifties, a drive-in movie theater. Marian looked askance at me as we pulled up to the booth and paid. "The passion pits?" she said, but she was smiling still. "I feel like a teenager on my first date." "I just laughed. Yeah, well, that's kind of the idea," I said. "I just wanted to do something different with you; something that both of us would like; well, I hoped we'd both like it." "We'll see about that," she said. We drove around to the back and parked. I mounted the sound device and turned it down low." An Unacceptable Situation My truck was spick-n-span, but that was not the biggee: I had gotten rid of the bucket seats, and put in a new, specially made for me, door-to-door bench seat. Now, my girl and I could cuddle like in the old days before all of the governmental baloney changed the way trucks, and cars to for that matter, were furnished. I leaned back against the door on my driver's side. I was looking across the seat at her and she looked at me like a cat that was about to dine on the canary—me. Oddly I was thinking of something else... "Do you—uh—feel comfortable with me?" I said. "I mean—oh heck, I don't know what I mean. I mean, well, I just want you to feel comfortable is all." She didn't respond, not with words anyway. She slid over to me and cupped my face in her hands. She leaned in and kissed me; it was a gentle, sensual kiss. She lifted my hand to her breast; she wore no bra. I explored her through the softness of the cotton material. My hand slipped over and down to the buttons of her blouse and undid them one by one. The car windows were already steaming up, a useful quirk of nature. I peeled her blouse from her shoulders. Her aureoles were broad and dark and oh so very feminine. "You are so beautiful, Marian," I said. She wasn't smiling now it wasn't a smiling moment; her eyes were closed. I reached for her tits once more and very gently massaged them. I leaned in and kissed each mound. I began suckling on first one then the other. I stopped. She had leaned back against the seat and spread her knees apart; her dress had ridden up to mid-thigh. My hand slowly slid up her leg stopping just short of her most secret place. She opened her eyes and looked at me no doubt wondering why I'd stopped. "Having second thoughts?" she teased. "No, but I am having thoughts about having seconds," I said. I was amazed at my own cleverness. Brilliant, I thought, in the midst of my self-congratulations. She kissed me just as my finger invaded her panties violating her vagina. "Ummph!" she said, as I began finger-fucking her. "Gently, boy, a little less enthusiasm until you get me wet, okay." I drew back appalled at my bad behavior. "Marian—I'm—sorr..." She cut my words off with the sweetest kiss I'd ever experienced. We continued making out for some little time before I felt her hands on the front of my pants. She unhooked my belt and worked my zipper down. She reached into my briefs for my now steel hard engine of lust; it pulsed in her hand. I pulled her down to the surface of my new leatherette seat and worked her panties down and off of her. Her bush was plush and almost animalistic in its smell as her juices now began to soak it. I kissed her nether lips and began lapping her clit. She shuddered and made little noises that had meaning only for us. I pushed my pants, that she'd already loosened, down and off and mounted her from the top. I speared at her several times and failed to gain entrance; she was tight. She took matters into her own hands and guided me inside of her. Lodgment gained, I began a slow push pull motion finally burying myself deep inside of her. I was still for a moment letting her get used to me. "Do me," she said, "now." I began screwing her slowly then faster then at breakneck speed. I needed this woman—bad! I kept at her for some minutes. She shuddered just as I blew my load into her. ****** The night after my liaison with Marian, I was awakened by an energetic rapping on my apartment's door. It was Saturday and just a little past 8:00AM. I had fallen asleep on the couch, and except for my shoes, I was still dressed as I had been the night before. I staggered up and made my way to answering the infernal racket. "Zoe!" "You bastard!" she greeted me. "You sonovabitch!" "Excuse me?" I said. "Did you have to destroy her?" "Who? What?" Then it dawned on me; she was talking about Caroline. Zoe blew by me and into my apartment. She headed through the glass door and onto my mini-patio. I knew I must've looked and smelled awful; she doubtless wanted cleaner smelling air. "You should've called. I'm not ready to receive visitors, and my mother always taught me to not allow strangers into the house when she wasn't around," I said. "Strangers! What strangers; we were married for sixteen years," she said. "Yeah, but in the final analysis it turned out that I didn't really know you, now did I," I said. She actually looked surprised by my remark. She gathered herself and laid it on me. "She came to you yesterday trying to repair your relationship with her. Why did you have to blow her off like that," she said. "No she didn't, and I didn't. She came to make herself feel less guilty about dumping on me, abandoning me; you know, like you did. But, when I told her I was thrilled that she thought of me as her only father and that I was happy that she was coming home. She ran out. That's what happened, exactly what happened. "I guess she wanted me to okay what she did to me. I will never be okay with it, not ever. Nor for what you did to me either. Now, are we done here?" I said. "No, we're not done! I have some things to say to you, and you need to listen," she said. I slipped resignedly down onto the couch awaiting what I was sure would be a verbal assault. I'd listen—well, I was curious—then I'd throw her cheating ass out. "Bill, I know I hurt you those months ago," she said. She stopped to see if I was going to say anything; I didn't. "I just didn't know how to make it easier on you than I did," I still remained silent. "Bill, please forgive me for what I did, okay? It was cruel. I know that, and I really am sorry. And—Caroline—well, she needs you." I still just sat there. "Well, aren't you going to say anything?" she said. She was becoming frustrated. "No," I said. Then, "Hmm, yes. Caroline can come back and be with me if she wants. But, I will not willingly tolerate playing second fiddle to your asshole partner in crime. I hope I'm not being too vague here." "You're not playing second fiddle. She loves you. And John is not an asshole, okay," she said. "Yeah, she loves me but not more than his money, right?" I said. "And, yes, John is an asshole and so are you." "Oh! You are so stubborn," she said. "Absofuckinglutely!" I said. "I am not going to stroke her conscience or yours just to get the occasional mercy visit from her—or you. Got it. I'm either her dad or he is; looks to me like she's made her choice. Now, the two of you have a good life. Hear?" "Bill! I..." "Just get the fuck out, Zoe. I think we're done here. Your mission failed," I said. I got up and headed for the loft of my studio digs. I needed to get cleaned up and get something in my belly. She just stared after me. I was almost to the bathroom when I heard the front door open and close; she was gone—again. I didn't feel good about my performance with Zoe, but I was not under any circumstances going to let them make me the bad guy. The three of them were going to carry that burden, and it was just too damn bad if it made them uncomfortable; I'd been uncomfortable for months. I planned to spend the rest of the day lounging on the patio, by the little rock fountain I'd put in near the balcony's far end; it added a kind of poor man's ambiance to the place, I thought. Well, that had been my plan for the day. That is, it was before I had yet another visitor—John Kurst. "You know who I am right?" he said, as he passed me and headed thru my living room and out onto my patio—just like his whore had, I thought. I followed him out. I wondered if Grand Central Station had more traffic than I did today. "Yeah, you're the asshole. I saw you at the court two months ago, the day the divorce was final. What the fuck do you want?" I said. "Got a beer?" he said. I stared at him. "For you? Fuck no! And fuck you if you think you can waltz into my home and say or do whatever you want, let alone expect me to be your goddamned host!" He ignored my words. "Look, we fell in love, okay? It happens. It's not the end of the world for you. Why are you making it so hard on the girls? You that selfish?" he said. "Selfish? Because I wanted to keep my family together? Let me say it again. Fuck you! Now, do you have anything else you want to say before I kick your pimply ass outta here?" "Just this, Caroline needs you. She likes me, but she loves you. You need to cut her some slack. Please." He said. "All she has to do is move back with me where she belongs," I said. "Bill, Mr. Conyers, you know Zoe and I are getting married, right?" he said. "Didn't get the invitation," I said. "But, I figured you would be sooner or later." "It's in a couple of weeks. And, in case you were wondering, I will not be seeking to adopt Caroline. Just wanted you to know. She's your daughter not mine; I know that. She just wants to be with her mother. "You know, you keep saying that she belongs with you, but how about her mother? Doesn't she belong with her too?" he said, feeling proud of his logic. "No, her mother's an unfaithful whore. She should not be with her, since you ask," I said. "You really are a stubborn sonovabitch, aren't you," he said. "That's the rumor," I said. "Not get out before I throw you out." He left shaking his head. I had a feeling all was not right in Kurst country. That was oh so fucking too damn bad. I called Marian. I needed company. ****** They were seated under the patio awning beside the large swimming poll in back of his house. The sun glinted off of the coping around the pool. Their feet grew warm just looking at it. She looked over at him "Okay, so what did he say?" said Zoe. "You don't want to know," said John. "But, for the record, he considers you an unfit mother." "I do want to know. If we are going to be able to get him and Caroline back at least on speaking terms..." said Zoe. "He's not budging. You were right. He is too hurt to compromise. He's not getting over it any time soon either. He's on the verge of hating us all—including Caroline—for what he sees as—well—your betrayal of his love. Actually, he hates me and probably you already. Caroline, for her part, is fast running out of time and chances too, if it comes to that," said John. "As far as he's concerned, nobody cares about him and he's obviously bitter about it. "We're getting married in two week's time. And that's just going to be something else for him to focus on, another reason to hate us. You know the worst of it? Caroline is going to be your maid of honor. He's gonna see that as another slap in the face," said John. "Yes, I think you're right. But, I can't just tell her to not be. She's my daughter. I want her to be there for me. And, she wants to be. Oh, John, I just don't know what to do. I mean it's his life and his to understand about us or not, but, I guess it's going to be a case of or not. I just don't know what to do. "Jesus!" she stomped her feet on the ground without getting up. "I've got to do something. Anything. I never meant to hurt him. I really did not. Falling in love with you was accidental and not to be denied. I just couldn't help myself," she said. "Me either," he said. "I tried to reason with him about that. Told him it was not the end of the world for him. But, he wasn't hearing anything. Actually, it's hard for me to blame him. I mean I wouldn't know what to do if I lost you either. He has my sympathy for what it's worth." She came to him and hugged him. Both had tears in their eyes. "We'll figure something out," she said. "You know, what he needs is a woman. Another woman. If he had..." "Stay the hell outta there, Zoe. That is one place neither of us wants to go. He has to find his own way. "You know—how about," he started. "How about what?" she said. "How about if Caroline stayed with him part of the time—you know, kind of shared custody?" he said. "I don't know. Caroline likes it here. She misses her dad, but would rather live here; it's as simple as that," she said. "It was her choice from the beginning, I mean after I told her I was divorcing her dad. "I think it's partly the glitz. And, partly that she wants to be with me, I mean as well s her dad. In her teenage mind, she figured that she could be here and visit her dad often and things would be, if not exactly rosy, at least tolerable. But, neither she nor any of us figured on the bitterness that has possessed Bill," she said. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "I will ask her about the shared time idea. Of course, no matter what she might decide, Bill will have to be sold on it, and he isn't exactly communicating with us too well right now," said Zoe. ****** "No, mom, that won't work. For dad it's all or nothing. Maybe if we had tried that in the beginning it might have been possible. But, you didn't see and hear him, what he said to me. He hates John. I just don't know how I am ever going to make things right with him. He's—so—one way," said Caroline. Her mother nodded. "I suppose you're right," she said. "You know, I am very proud of you, Caroline. You're a lot smarter than I am. I didn't do right by your dad. And—and—cheating on him was the worst. It just happened; I didn't mean for it to end this way. I know he'll never forgive me for what I did. And, for what it's worth, I don't deserve to be forgiven. But, I do hope that you and your dad can mend fences at some point. I really do. He's a good man, just stubborn—and—a little hurt." ****** I'd put the word out through several old army buddies that I was in business. I had appointments by the end of week one. They weren't big money jobs, but I could hold out for a while as I got my feet set firmly on the ground. Quality work, quality materials, and short turn-around times were the main features of my modus operandi. I figured to make them work for me. I got a bonus when Marian volunteered to handle appointments for me: I'd set up two phones in my apartment with some forward looking software for my computer to handle the business that I hoped I'd soon be getting; she was good at that stuff. Business was slow for the first couple of months, slow that is, but steady. It was a beginning. Then, I caught a break. ****** The man was tall, very tall, and slender; and his name was Lionel Tandy; he was a PI. He was a private investigator with a need for someone to handle his very delicate spying machinery. He'd been recommended to me by a mutual old friend from army days. Jerry, Jerry Whitfield. My buddy and his, had employed him to catch his cheating wife and to protect himself from being raped in the divorce that he knew was coming. Mister Tandy had a lot of machinery because he had a lot of business; and, he almost immediately had steered a lot more business my way. My income doubled by the end of the first year, and more than quadrupled by the end of the second year. I was making four times what I did as a trashman. Life was good and getting better. Well, better if you discount I hadn't heard from any of my former family in all that time. I'd asked Marian to move in with me. She'd initially refused. She was concerned that I had not been able to come to grips with my wife and daughter's betrayal, as I saw it. But now she'd reconsidered. I guess I didn't seem to be so down all of the time as I had been. Maybe it was the result of being so damn busy which I freakin' was! Another plus for her, and ultimately us was the fact that she no longer had the worry of making the rent on her old place. We were doing well as a team, and now we were sharing a bed. I knew the asshole and my ex had married soon after my last talk with any of them. I also knew my daughter had been the maid of honor at the little do. She certainly had made her choice with that one. I had been bitter about Caroline being her maid of honor, but thinking about it, I guess it figured. But, marriage for me and Marian? No, not yet at any rate. I was still a little skittish, even after two years, no doubt another reason that she'd held off moving in with me. Again apart from hearing about the wedding from some common friends of Zoe's and mine, I hadn't seen nor heard from my ex-familia in more than two years. I didn't even know if they knew that I had switched careers; I'd doubted it. I was wrong. Marian and I had finally had to rent a small office and workroom a mile and half from the little studio apartment I'd originally rented after the breakup and which we, the both of us now, still lived in. The office was nothing fancy, purely utilitarian. We didn't even have a sign in the window of the place. But, as fate would have it, such humble digs did not stop my now seventeen year-old daughter from finding me and stopping by. I didn't recognize her at first. She'd filled out a lot in the time since she'd run out of that restaurant. She was not only older, she was more mature too—they're not the same thing. "Hello, dad," she said, just as I realized who she was. Her tone, if I was reading it right, was condescending, and it bothered me. "Caroline, nice to see you. You've grown up, I see," I said. "Like to have been there." I smiled. "You could have been," she said. "No, no, I don't share my children. They are either my children or they aren't," I said. "And I wasn't then," she said. "It was your choice," I said. I was being catty, but I had not, and never would, get over the way I had been treated. There would be no letting them off easy. "What are you doing here, if might ask?" "Heard you had this shop, and that you'd quit being a garbage man," she said. There was that condescending tone again. "It's kinda small isn't it?" she said. "No customers?" "A few," I said. "I eat regular. I'll ask again. Why are you here? You just come to insult me? Haven't you and your mother done enough of that?" She winced. I'd finally made an impact. "No, no, sorry. I didn't mean it to sound that way. Did I make it sound that way?" she said. "Yes." "Well, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, really. "I came by to see you. See how you were doing. Hope you're doing okay—really, she said. I think I believed her, but it didn't change much. "Well, thanks, I guess. And, how are you doing? You're what, seventeen now?" I said. "Did asshole buy you a new car yet?" "Dad, please stop calling him an asshole, okay? He's an okay guy. And yes, that's my Vet out front," she said. "No," I said, "he'll always be asshole to me. I think I told you that the last time you came by." I walked over to the window and looked out. "Nice. Wish I could afford it. Looks like you and your mom did well trading up, huh? "Anyhow, so you came here to check me out, and what, maybe rub my nose in it?" I said. I was getting angry, but I was doing an okay job of not showing it too much. "What? I mean, no. I didn't think that—I mean—no," she said. "Never mind. Just tell your mom that I think she's done an excellent job raising you to be just like her. Now, if you'll excuse me. It may not look like it, but I am busy," I said. My meaning was clear, and she got it. "That was uncalled for, dad," she said. "Tell me, just for the record, what do you call asshole when you're home," I said. "Dad!" she all but screamed at me. "You call him dad, then?" I was smiling to beat the band. "No! I mean you. Stop calling him asshole, please." She said. "No," I said. "Well, I guess it's no use talking to you. You know, a while back mom and John..." "So, you call him John?" I said, getting my answer to my previous question. "Yes, John. And, as I was about to say, mom and John were going to ask you if it would have been possible for me to spend half of my time with you and half with them?" she said. She was fishing to see how I might have reacted to an offer to share my daughter. This posed a problem for me. An Unacceptable Situation Zoe was her mother, cheating whore or not, and had the right to have her daughter with her part of the time, so how would I have reacted to the offer of a split schedule. "What would you have said to such a proposal?" I said, finally. "I would have considered it," she said. "Hmm, me too," I said. "But, you would have had to leave all of that fine stuff he's been plying you with there at his place if you were going to spend any time with me, including that ride out there. Could you, would you, have been okay with that?" "Why are you so mean," she said. "I've never insulted you or said bad things about you. And for the record neither has John or mom. But, you are always calling him names and making stupid rules and stuff." "Yes, but I ain't wrecking his family am I," I said. "You needn't come back, Caroline, you're clearly no part of me anymore. You're just shoving this shit of his in my face, and I don't like it. So just stay where you belong and don't come back. "Now, if you will please leave. I really do have things to do, if I am ever going to be able to make enough money to compete with asshole," I said. I turned away and started messin' with paperwork that Marian had already taken care of." "Dad! You know, you are actually cruel," she screamed at me. I supposed she was right, but I didn't care very much right at that moment. I would be talking to Marian later. ****** "So, you're thinking of doing what, exactly," said Marian. "Hell, I don't know. Like I told you, I simply refuse to accept second fiddle status. I absolutely demand that I be the "only" fiddle in the band. That's the long and the short of it, I guess," I said. "Divorce often leads to a kid split between the wife and the husband," said Marian. "Yes, and I could have lived with a split, but they didn't offer me that. The offered me occasional visits if I were good. That wasn't going to fly, not then, not now, not ever," I said. "Hmm, yes, but maybe you'd have done better not to cut her off completely like that," said Marian. "But, I do understand your hurt. I expect so does the trio of them as well." A month later I was sitting at a back booth visiting with Marian when my best customer came by. "Mr. Tandy," I said, "good to see you." "Bill, how are you. May I join you?" he said. "Of course." "How are you Marian? You look good tonight," he said. "Thanks, Lionel," she said. "Bill, I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you took my advice to open up your service to a broader clientele," said Lionel. "Yeah, me too," I said. "I had to hire a bunch of young techie types to cover the demand, and a few of them aren't even eighteen for cryin'-out-loud. But, they can do anything with both the hardware and the software as well as with the electrics. Business is good." "Yeah, and your good work has redounded to me. Keep it up. I like it when my clients are happy with folks I recommend. "You know, Bill, the best revenge is success. Sooner or later your ex is going to notice that she made a humungous error in judgment. Trust me, I've been down the road you're on," he said. I sighed. "Yeah, maybe. But it is all water under the bridge now, Lionel. It's been going on three years. Besides, Marian has agreed to marry me. I'm putting the bunch of them and all of the hang-ups about my relative ability to earn a living behind me as best I can. The hurt will probably never completely disappear, but it's a lot less with Marian in my corner," I said, nodding toward my fiancée. Marian squeezed my thigh under the table; I gave her an appropriate look. The three of us talked for a little while but soon Marian and I had to cut country. ****** I was beginning to get the heebeegeebees when it came to my ex-family. Though the visits were few and far between, one would come to visit, do or say something unacceptable, and then other one would show up and pull something else. One would think that an ex-dad and husband could at least be left alone to feel sorry for himself. But, evidently, such was not to be, at least for this dad and ex-husband. I sighed as I looked her up and down. She stood two feet away looking for all the world the exasperated pedant. "Hello, Zoe," I said, feeling a little bit exasperated myself. The bar was empty except for the barkeep and a young couple seated at a table against the far wall. "Hello, Bill. Caroline told me about her coming to see you. I didn't know about it or I would have had her call first or—or— something," she said. "Whatever," I said. "So, how did you know where to find me unless this is one of those less than believable coincidences one reads about from time to time?" "I know your hangouts, Bill, all of them. Heck, this is the first one I tried," she said. "I notice you're alone. No girlfriend today?" "Whaddya want, Zoe? And why would you be trying to find me? You dumped on me, remember. My love life is hardly a matter for you to concern yourself about," I said. "I suppose you're right," she said. "Same as last time. I am hoping I can get you and Caroline back to at least talking civilly. She cries sometimes you know. She does love you. It's just that she's a kid—she doesn't understand the world the way adults do." "Hah! I'm pretty damn sure the adults don't understand it any better than she does if it comes to that," I said. Zoe actually giggled at that. "Maybe so. Can I buy you a drink?" she said. I nodded. What the hell I thought, a free drink was a free drink. The bargirl brought the two beers I'd signaled for. "You know my rule, Zoe, if she wants back with her real father she dumps the fake one," I said. "I have a right to be with my daughter too don't I," said Zoe. "I would have said yes to that, but I had no choice in the matter did I. So, why should I agree to something now that I had no choice in then? You, and presumably your asshole, are still making up the rules. Whatsamatter, things not all that hunkydory with you two? You gotta get me to run interference for you with the kid?" I said. She looked at me with a frustrated frown painting her features. "Caroline needs her father. That's the only reason I'm here, not to hash over my relationship with my husband," said Zoe. "Why can't you believe that! Did I hurt you that bad?" "I don't believe you, Zoe, because you are a cheat and a liar. As to the other, yes, you did hurt me that bad. Especially giving me no say in Caroline's future," I said. "Again, I—I'm sorry about the way I hurt you, Bill. I mean it. I've had some sleepless nights over that. It's just—well—once I'd made the decision to leave, I was afraid that you and I would go 'round and 'round and get nowhere if I tried to soft peddle it. I just decided to get it over with fast. I thought that that would cause less pain in the long run than if we dragged it out. I guess I was wrong there. "As for the thing with Caroline. She was frightened you'd disown her, but she was even more frightened that I might, I mean my going with another man and all. So, I just told her she had to choose who to live with but that she could visit the other as much as she wanted. Neither of us, me or Caroline, figured on your reaction when she chose me. I still can't get my head around that," said Zoe. "Get your head around it?" I said, repeating her words. "You actually thought that I would be okay with what you did to me, and her too? You left me alone with nothing and no one!" I was fuming. The fucking nerve. I just had no words to explain my feelings to this woman. "Bill, I'm sorry. I blew it okay. I didn't realize. I did try to do things right, to cause as little pain as possible; but—I guess, I failed. I don't know what to do, Bill. I would just like us to be friends or at least on speaking terms. "Above all, I would wish that you and our daughter could get by all of the bad stuff and be—well—good to each other again," she said. "The rule is she dumps you and the asshole and all of that money you're so proud, and I will accept my daughter back with open arms; there is no other way, not for me. Not after what you did to me, and the way you did it to me, cheating on me," I said. "Get your head around that! And now, if you'll forgive me, I wanna finish my beer in peace, the buying of which, by the way, is the only nice thing you've done for me in forever." She rose to go. I think she was beginning to tear up, but maybe not. "Okay, Bill, the door is always open if you will only walk through it, but I guess this is the last time you'll hear from me unless you do," she said. And, she left. I gave her a desultory wave and turned back to the serious business of my beer drinking; I'd need a couple more at least. My stomach was roiling, and I wasn't sure why. She was true to her word. It was three more years before we saw each other again and it was a shock to the both of us when we did. ****** There are cartoons and sitcoms and outright comedic specials. One watches, and one expects to laugh. But, sometimes the most comedic of TV shows are the financial news channels where one does not expect to laugh. But me? Oh yes, watching the super rich, and the talking heads that wipe their asses for them, wringing their hands as their millions shrink into the muck they have created with their moronic speculations in the market is more than entertaining; it's side-splitting. Helluva thing these recession thingys. That these monsters of Wall Street are hurting is actually cathartic for those of us who have to actually get their hands dirty to make a living. It was ever thus. What does all of this have to do with anything? Well, again, I am one of those who has to get his hands dirty to make a living. The good news is that I am making a helluva living, and I am smiling to beat the band. My accountant; and yes, Marian made me hire an accountant to do our books, tells me that I have a current net worth of just over seven million dollars. I own and operate fourteen small shops here in the southern part of the state, like the one I personally work out of; and my workers, the high school and college kids that do the bulk of the hardware repairs for us are all making good money too: minimum plus commission. Marian and I, if I hadn't mentioned it, are married; headed for our third anniversary soon. No kids yet, but we're thinking about it. We're at the Fish-on-Fire tonight, but she's in the little girls' room. Said she had to pee before she laid something on me. No, I know it's not a request for a divorce; we are very happy and very busy and very looking forward to a long life together. "There you are, honey, I thought maybe you'd fallen in," I said, laughing. "Very funny, honeykins," she started. Uh-oh, now I was worried. "I need help." "Help?" I said. "At the house. I'm working almost as much as you are, you know, Bill. I mean most of it is at the house on the PC, but I'm on there so much that I need a housekeeper to help out keeping the place clean, and such," she said. "Not a live-in I hope," I said. "No, no, just a couple of days a week to do the heavy stuff. Whaddya say," she said. "Well, you knew when you asked it was gonna be your decision, but it's nice to see you at least allow me the illusion that I have a say in it," I laughed. "You do have a say, dear. The Grossman's have a service they've been using for a while. Claim their trustworthy and good at what they do. "And, husband mine, again, you do have a say in it; it's no illusion. I love you, you know," she said. "Yeah right," I said. "Call Henry or Meg tomorrow and find out how to set it up if you haven't already. Since it's no live-in thingy it's not a problem for me." We talked, danced, had a little too much to drink, and went home and did things that would have been mortal sins had we not been married. God how I loved this woman's tits and ass. ****** I was late, and the scene I walked in on was nothing if not strange—no— melancholy—no, strange. "Marian?" I said. She had not been this nervous, upset, whatever since our wedding day. "Bill, something really odd—unusual has happened. You need to keep your cool—okay?" she said. "You cheated on me?" I laughed. I knew she hadn't. "Smartass," she said. "No, but you need to keep your cool. Okay?" "Yes, of course. Whatever you say," I said. "You remember last week we talked about getting someone to help me around the house a couple of days a week. You know, cleaning, ironing, doing the laundry and stuff?" she said. "Yes, I remember," I said, still smirking. "Just cut to the chase, okay? You hire somebody?" She paced back and forth a few times. "Yes, well, okay, follow me into the den," she said. I did as she said. I saw them immediately. "Zoe! Caroline! What the fu..." I started. "You promised to keep your cool, Bill," said Marian, short shanking me. I looked at her; I looked at my ex and my daughter for the first time in three years; Caroline was a full blown woman and quite beautiful. "These are our cleaning ladies," said Marian. "Excuse me?" I said. I'd heard what she'd said, but I still wasn't with it. "They've fallen on hard times, Bill. I called the service. Zoe and Caroline were the responders. They didn't know this was our house. Trust me when they showed up I was even more surprised than you were; they were too, I guess. We didn't get much work done today, none of us," she said. "Hard times? Huh?" I said. "The stock market, Bill," said Zoe. "It ruined us. But, at least Caroline and I have decent jobs. We get by. We're fine. Humiliated, now, here, but fine." "They wanted to run away as soon as they realized what was goin on, Bill. But, I caught up with them and asked them to stay and wait for you. Had I not it would have just been a long and dragged out scene: you checking up on them, them afraid to hear from you; well, you get what I'm saying, I'm sure," she said. "You did right, Marian," I said. I looked over at Zoe. "So, did the asshole kick you out? Must've been hard on him being poor, maybe having to get a job? You two payin' 'his' way now?" I was being caddy, but I couldn't help myself. "I guess this was a mistake," said Zoe, "we'll be going. Marian, thanks for lunch—and—what you tried to do." She rose and pulled at Caroline to leave, who, by the way, had so far said or done nothing except to sniffle a little bit behind her handkerchief. "No, no, I'm being the asshole now," I said. "Stay please." "So, you can laugh at us, Bill?" said Zoe. "Daddy..." said Caroline, speaking, but not finishing, for the first time. I looked her up and down; she figured to be about twenty, now. I wondered about boyfriends or... "Caroline, Zoe, sit down. Please," I said, getting hold of myself. "It's just—it's all crazy that's all. I mean all that went on before and now this." I spread my hand to indicate the situation. "So what happened exactly?" I said. I was well advised to shut up at that point and let others do the talking. "The market went bad, and we went broke. It's that simple. We thought about you and what we did to you and everything—but—knowing what you thought of me—us—well...," said Zoe. "And the—John," I said, biting my tongue. "Where is he?" "He divorced me to protect me from the legal and financial fallout of the crash," said Zoe. "Wait a minute, wait a minute," I said. "He divorced you—why—again?" "To protect me and Caroline. It's all mixed up legal mumbo jumbo, but he's hurting real bad and didn't want the fallout from it all to destroy me and Caroline; hence, the official, but not real breakup," said Zoe. "Not real breakup?" I said. "I'm confused." "Bill," said Marian, "John, it would seem, is not a bad man. He cheated with Zoe on you, and we're all agreed that the two of them should be horsewhipped for that, but they just fell in love. It happens. They hurt you, and now the market has hurt them. "They know, well Zoe does, how complicated and un—well—un-something this all appears," said my wife. Marian was saving the situation that was clear. I was of a mind to let her; hell, she'd saved me. "Bill," said Zoe, "John is hurting real bad. He lost everything: house, cars, bank accounts. He's all but homeless. He did have a friend though, that has this cleaning business: Century Maid Service. He was able to get me a job. Caroline helps me; we're a package deal." My ex was smiling now; it was pride if I had it right. "Caroline? You help your mom in all of this?" I said. She nodded, "Yes, daddy," she said. "Where are you staying?" I said. "They have a small apartment in the Rushmore district," said Marian, interrupting. "Rushmore? That's kind of a rough area isn't it?" I said. I knew it was. "Yes, it is," said Marian. "It's not so bad," said Zoe. "It's warm and cozy. We do all right. "Look, Bill, we didn't come here looking for a handout or anything. We didn't know this was your place. Anyone can see you're doing good. I mean this house...." She spread her hands to indicate our new digs. "I guess your business hasn't been hit by the market crash like what happened to us, I mean the housing market...I'm happy for you. "Anyway, we're still here because Marian made sense. It's better that you know now. It'll save a lot of stupid stuff later on. "And, I'll say it again, Bill, yeah the same old stuff. I do think you might want to be giving your daughter another chance though. She misses you, has all along," said Zoe. "Momma! I know dad's mad at me. We're not here to beg. We work daddy, and we make an honest living. We're proud of that," said Caroline. I looked her askance. "You mean like me?" I said. "Like even when I was a garbage collector, like then too?" She looked away. I'd made my point. "Daddy, I was never ashamed of what you did, really. I just wanted to be with mom; she needed me more, at least I thought that she did. The car and the rest of it were just things added; that stuff was never the biggee that you thought it was," said Caroline. "And your relationship with—John?" I said. It still rankled that she had chosen him over me. But, maybe I had it wrong. I still wasn't convinced. I'd be talking to my wife by day's end. I had realized for some time that her thinking was pretty straight arrow and usually right on the mark. "He's a nice man, dad. He doesn't yell like you do either. He treats—treated us well. Dad—he is not an asshole. Please get that. He's not my dad, and he never will be. But, he's an okay guy, a good guy. "But—you're my daddy, and I will never abandon you in any real sense," said my daughter. I was conflicted. I suppose logically, what she said, what Marian had said and Zoe, was not all that far of the truth. But, I was still the very badly hurt victim of a cheating wife, five years gone or not. I was in a position to exact searing revenge if I so wanted. I recalled something that Lionel had told me: "The best revenge is being a success." "Zoe, Caroline, I am not going to pretend that I am okay with what you did to me. You Zoe cheating on me, and you Caroline hanging with—John Kursk—instead of with your daddy. It hurt then and it still hurts, and it hurts very badly. But... "It's water under the bridge. And, I got lucky; I found Marian, or she found me; I don't know which. I'm happy, scarred inside I won't try to fool you, but happy the way things have turned out for me. That said... "The cleaning service you work for, is it big?" I said. "Well, yes, I think so," said Zoe. "I know there are quite a few ladies doing homes out of it. Pays pretty good. We get twenty-five percent of the action; it's pure commission though. We have to buy our own health insurance and stuff; but we're getting by." "Hmm." I glanced over at Marian. Her eyes lighted up. She knew what I was thinking. "Zoe, this is the deal. I think I can help you, I mean if you want. You may be doing okay, but you are living in Rushmore. Caroline is my daughter. You were once the love of my life, and I still hold a place for you in my heart, God help me. An Unacceptable Situation "Anyway, You two head on home for tonight. I have some things to talk to Marian about. We'll call you tomorrow. You got a cell?" I said. "No, not yet," she said. "But, we were planning on getting one next month. She gave me a card with her employer's office number, of course Marian already had that, but I took it anyway. The two of them left. Caroline did run back and give me a peck on the cheek before running out. After they had gone, I looked over at Marian. "Well?" I said. "Buy the business," she said. "I know you're thinking about it. Looks like it might be a good investment. "Uh—Bill?" she said, tentatively. "Yes?" I said. "I paid them for the week, Bill. They're getting by, but barely. I know you picked up on it," said Marian. I just nodded. I was glad she'd paid them, but I also didn't want them thinking handouts were what I was into. I actually, wondered if they'd planned to be back to clean. Marian did call them the next day and set up a cleaning schedule for them and had, as it turned out, gotten them a couple of new high end clients. They were properly grateful. They, the pair of them, did come back on Thursday, and did a good job. My clothes were pressed real nice. I wondered if it had been Zoe or Caroline, but I never asked. Four weeks after that first, very strange, meeting. Marian called me at work to tell me everything had gone through as planned. She'd arranged a dinner at Sammy's for the four of us. "Nice of you to invite us, Marian," said Zoe as she and Caroline arrived. Marian nodded in my direction. "You too, of course, Bill. And, nice to see you again." I nodded back. We ate first talking about our day, week, the time since We'd last seen them the month before. It was nice. Caroline kept shooting glances at me as the evening progressed. Marian looked over at me. I signaled for her to take the lead. "Ladies," said Marian, "we, Bill and I, have something to ask of you. Would that be okay?" Our two guests gave their assent. "Sure," said Zoe. "What can we do for you?" She actually seemed excited to do something for us. "We need you to run a business for us. I would be keeping the books and making the appointments et cetera, but I—we—need someone to handle the everyday operations," said Marian. Her demeanor had been ultra intense—serious. "Huh?" said Zoe. She had been initially listening, then trying to catch on to the meaning of what she was hearing, then giving up and waiting to say—"huh." She had achieved the last of these stages, and that grandly. "I don't understand," she said. "We acquired, over the past few weeks Century Maids. We own it," said Marian. Bill and I could not stand by and see his daughter living in Rushmore, nor you either, Zoe. So we determined to leave you independent, but to guarantee your economic safety, if that's the right term." "Bill?" said Zoe. She looked at me with wrinkled brow. "It's just like Marian said, Zoe. How much you make is up to you. You and Caroline, I guess. Marian and I are taking twenty-five percent of the net for bankrolling the operation, and we hope you can make us some money. The rest of the take is yours. The old manager is being kept on as an office manager. She can help you with all of the ins and outs of the business until you learn the ropes. "Marian and I will not interfere, but we'll be your back up if necessary. So whaddya say. You want the job. It's a no strings attached deal," I said. Zoe looked over at Caroline. "Caroline?" she said. "Oh yes, mom. We will get to see dad and Marian sometimes too. Right, dad?" she said. I smiled and nodded. "Sure," I said. "Bill this is better than I deserve. I thank you. Marian...," said Zoe Things got a little mushy after that, but the night had had at least a positive ending. Zoe knew she'd screwed up those few years ago. Caroline was finally getting an idea of what was really important in life, and everybody was safe if not absolutely thrilled with the outcome. Well, almost everybody. There was still John Kurst. ****** "What'll yuh have John," said Mikey, his ever lovin' bartender. "A cup of hemlock would be good," said John. "Ain't got none of that. You'll have to settle for a double Jack Daniels," said Mikey. "That's a close as we got." "Well then, lay it on me," said John. He sat slumped forward head in his hands waiting for his liquid salvation to arrive. Mikey returned with the eighty proof elixir, and the customer downed half of it hoping for a quick attenuation of his pain. A year earlier he'd been loaded with money and influence. Now, the only kind of loaded he got was the alcoholic kind. His family had been forced to split up. He wondered how many divorces were done to save the wife from being possibly screwed over by the IRS—among others. It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done to give up his wife. Well, he thought, maybe he deserved it; he'd cuckolded another guy; then, stole his wife and kid. What went around came around for sure, he knew; he was actually living that nightmare. Mikey came to his table and eyed him. "John, you know it's none of my business. Tell me to butt out and I will, but Zoe is doing pretty good I hear. When was the last time you talked to her?" he said. "A couple of months ago. We were tryin' to see each other every night before that, but my lawyer says it wasn't the smartest thing to do until I got my feet on the ground financially again. Said they might try to go after her if they thought that the divorce we went through was bogus," said John. "Well, the way I hear it, Zoe and the girl are running some kind of cleaning business, and doing pretty well. I think her ex is somehow involved too, but I'm not sure about that, or in what way," said Mikey. John looked at him with wrinkled brow. John looked away, "No, they are working at the cleaning business right enough, but they're just flunkies not owners or anything. And, I know for a fact that Zoe's ex won't have anything to do with either them because of Zoe and me cuckolding him and Caroline wanting to stay with her mom and me." "Hmm, maybe, but I don't think so. You might want to give Zoe a call. There's something there; I'm sure of it," said Mikey. "Besides if it's been a couple of months, she'd probably like to be hearin' from yuh?" said Mikey. "Yeah, I guess I will at least call her. Hah! Maybe if she's making a lot of money she can loan me a sawbuck," said John. "Then I could pay my tab here." His laugh had no mirth in it. Mikey smirked. "Hell, if she is running a company maybe she'll hire yuh," he said. John looked at him. "Maybe she would if she owned it or ran it," said John, "but, I know she doesn't own it or run it. It hasn't been that long since I talked to her. She would have told me if something that big had gone down." "Hmm, maybe," said Mikey. ****** "Caroline get the solvent for the counter tops, will you?" said Zoe. Mother and daughter still did some of the cleaning themselves in spite of being managers, but only for a few selected clients. Zoe had learned from hard experience that sitting in an office and pushing paper was not the way to make a business run well; they had an office manager to do that. One day a week they got their hands dirty and the other days they monitored their help out in the field. Time in the office was mainly Saturday mornings and Wednesday evenings. The business was doing fine mainly because of their methods. "Mom, there's someone at the door. You want me to get it?" said Caroline. "Never mind, just get the solvent, I'll get the door," said Zoe. She marched to the front entrance of the Grey's residence. She had been told to expect a package delivery and had been tasked to sign for it. The Greys were good customers and both Zoe and Caroline had been befriended by Constance Grey and her husband Rob. He stared at her with puppy dog eyes. "Hi Zoe," said John Kursk. "John! How did you know..." "I went to the cleaning service to find out. Helen, your office manager..." "Yes, yes, she knows you. Come in, come in," said Zoe. "Is it okay for you to be here, John. I don't want to get you in trouble. I mean after what your lawyer said..." "Well, I don't know for sure. But, I'm gonna risk it today. I have to. I won't stay long. I just needed to see you. I heard you were running the store now, but I can see you're still working in the field. "Zoe you deserve so much more than this. I feel so bad about us, about everything," he said. She reached out and touched his cheek. Come here you big lug," she said. "It's not your fault. I know that business can be hard sometimes. Hard on people that is. You'll be fine; we all will. Things'll turn around. You'll see. "But, you're wrong about one thing, John, I am running the company now. It's—it's complicated." "Huh?" he said. "To make a long story short. A couple of months ago, the same week I saw you last actually," she said, "Caroline and I showed up at a mansion to clean it up. We didn't know it until we got there, but it was Bill's place. We were kinda trapped, Caroline and I. His wife made us stay to face up to Bill. "Anyway, we made our peace with him, and left. But, a few weeks later, for reasons known only to him, he bought the business and essentially gave it to me to run. I took it, John. I would have told you, but I didn't know how. I was afraid you might not understand. I was intending to call you soon to fess up. Caroline has been after me to do it, and I was about to—but—now—here you are," she said. He looked at her as at an apparition. "You mean he's that wealthy now?" he said. "Yes," she said. He sagged against the wall. "Heck of a thing, dontcha think? I mean a few years ago it was me with the money chasing you, and taking you away from him; and now, it's him with the money, and I guess he'll be getting his revenge on me. The irony is beyond telling. Can't blame him, I guess. I did screw him over pretty good," said John. "John it was the both of us that cheated on him and made him our cuckold. But, no, he is not looking for revenge. I won't say he's forgotten what we did to him, but he's over the emotional part of it. "John, I have to ask, how are you doing? I mean really," she said. "Not so hot. Still owe a quarter mil that I can't pay, and I don't have a job. I do get a little help here and there from old friends, and I have a place to stay that a friend is giving me gratis. You know him too, old Rigel Macris; he came to my rescue there," he said. Neither of the conversants had noticed, but Caroline was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, not quite in plain sight, but seeable if they looked directly at her. John did that now. "Caroline! I didn't see you there, girl. How are you?" he said. "Good, John." She came to him and gave him a hug. "John, mom and I could ask daddy to help you out. I think he would." Her ex-stepdad smiled. "Not too likely, girl, he hates me, and with good reason." Zoe looked at her daughter, and then back to the man. "John, I'm the company manager, the operations chief. I could hire you. I'm sure that Bill would not get in the way. He really has put what we did to him behind him. "There might be a bit of crow eating when we ask him, but we both deserve a little of that for sure," said. Zoe. "John, this is not the time to let our egos dictate our behavior. At least you'd have a good job." "Zoe, thanks for the offer, but housework? I'd be the worst employee you ever had," he said. He actually laughed at the suggestion. Zoe however was not laughing. "No, not housework for you. I need a driver, someone to handle picking up and delivering supplies. It's five bills a week and the usual benefits. It might help get some of those who are hounding you to back off so they can get their money in installments. John, it's a start." He spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Beggars can't be choosers, I guess," he said. "And, it would get me to where I could at least see you. I really do miss you, Zoe." "I miss and love you too," said Zoe. Caroline looked on interested. ****** The four of them sat at the table on the far side of the room from the bar. Millie the drink deliverer had just deposited her cargo, and had retreated to another part of the bistro. "Zoe what is this about," I said. I'd gotten the call early that morning. Zoe had asked to meet me and Marian at the club; she had something to say to me. Seeing my nemesis sitting across from me and immediately next to Zoe, as though for comfort or safety or something, did not make me feel real good. "Bill, I, we, need your help," she said. I continued staring at her. "Bill, I want to hire my husband? Well, my ex-husband. Can I?" "What the fu..." I stopped and tried to calm down. Marian took over. "You mean to work at the service?" said Marian. "Yes, as you know I need a driver, and John needs a Job—real bad," said Zoe. He now spoke for the first time. "Bill, how are you. Well, I hope. Bill, things are tough right now. I wouldn't be here hat in hand humiliating myself if I had a choice. But—well—Zoe convinced me to come and ask if she could—I mean if I could—well, work for you. I know I fucked up in the past, but well..." "You have brass balls for sure, Mr. Kursk. Why me? Why not some other business. Surely, you know people who you used to deal with that would hire you?' I said. "Hah! I wish I did. I've become something of a pariah if you want to know. I even had to divorce Zoe—who I love just as much as you ever did, Bill, no matter what you think—just so I wouldn't be draggin' her down with me. Anyway, that's the long and the short of it. If you could see your way clear to hire me, I promise I'd do a good job for you," he said. "John, We'll hire you. You start Monday. Zoe will give you the info you need," said Marian, taking charge of the situation. I looked at her with disbelief written all over me, I was sure. "Bill, you've forgiven, Zoe; we're taking all of the hurt of the past and dumping it. We're taking this thing to the next level." I nodded; she was the boss. John looked at me. He didn't have the brass effrontery to try and shake my hand, but he did whisper what I thought was a sincere thank you. I nodded in his direction my acceptance of his offering. We had a couple of drinks after the meeting, the four of us, before heading out. John and I spoke a few words about the market and how he'd gotten caught up in the crash. Zoe was profuse in her gratitude, but she spoke mainly to Marian. The meeting and the hiring of the man who had stolen my wife and daughter was over, and I had okayed him working for us. For me it was a very big deal. But it was but a drop in the proverbial bucket compared to what Marian laid on me about two weeks later. "Bill, you know, your ex and I have become very good friends, don't you?" she said. I nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's okay by me. I'm over her now," I said. "I know. Well, we have become kind close," she said. She seemed to be nervous about something. I looked her askance. "What?" I said, not having a clue what she was trying to say. "I gave them the money," said Marian. She looked as if she wanted to run. "Huh? Money? What money? Did I miss some part of the conversation here?" I said. She didn't say anything for some moments. The phone rang. I picked it up. Marian looked relieved at the interruption. "Who?...Zoe?...Yes, Zoe, yes, I'm fine...no need to thank me...I hear he's doing a good job...no...not that...then what?...What!...Oh that," I fairly spat looking daggers at my wife. "Yeah sure...you're welcome," I said. We said our goodbyes, and I hung up. I stared at my wife like I didn't know her. "I was about to tell you," she said. "Are you kiddin me? A quarter million. A quarter fucking million!" I fairly screamed at her. "They want to get remarried, but they dare not with those debts hanging over their heads. We have the money; it's nothing to us, but it will give the mother of your child a new start. And, they're not getting the money, the IRS is, and a few other of his old creditors. "Bill, you'd have done it yourself eventually to pull her out of the hole she's in. I know you. I just made it easy for you. Heck this is your revenge: you've saved them. It has to be sweet for you," she said. I sank into a chair at the table. I looked at her, looked away, and looked back at her again. I smiled. You know, I hate to say it, but I think you're right," I said. I smiled the smile of the Olympic champion. I happened to look over at the clock. It was 5:27PM; things had come full circle.