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Just Too Happily Married

By: carvohi



An Introduction and a prescription: 

There may be a few silly remarks that could be interpreted as being a smidgen political. Don't take any of that seriously. Second, every state has its own domestic intricacies, and Maryland, being old and staid, has a lot of baggage. Third, I do like to talk. Maybe it's because no one lets me talk at home. If you think I ramble, well I ramble, but then in our protagonist's case his 'asides' might help us get a better picture of the man he was and becomes. 

This is a work of fiction, but there are also a few nuggets of historical fact here too. I'm suggesting you read it all before you come to a conclusion. I hope you enjoy it; it's here purely for your entertainment. Well not absolutely. Sure I like to write, and I write for myself, but I enjoy sharing too. 

And oh yes to FD45; Do I repeat myself? Yes I repeat myself. I am old. I am surrounded by women.

Jedd Clampett

So here goes:

*****

"Just Too Happily Married" 

Here I go. I'm Ryan Greene. 

Before anyone gets too deep into this story I have to warn you there's nothing new here. I mean how many times have we come across the tale of the loyal, hardworking, middle-aged, blindly loving, stupid slob who finds out his one true love, his life's mate, his soul-mate has betrayed him? Yeah for most people this is just another one of those sad clichéd old stories about someone else's misfortune. Anyway, that's how I always felt...but then it happened to me.

~~v~~ 

Well I guess I should have known something was wrong. We were just too happily married; things were going just too well. My wife had always been attentive, and I always tried to reciprocate. I was as loyal as an old dog, and I believed she was the same. Of course we've had our arguments; see a married couple that doesn't fight occasionally, and together we can see a couple with no passion.

All married couples fight and argue. If we hadn't I would have thought she didn't care, but the fights always ended with some kind of mutual rapprochement. One or the other would blow up. We'd argue, get it out of our systems, and then make up. I guess some time ago; thinking back it had been maybe six months our familial life sort of evolved in a different direction. 

What do we have to say about this? Well it goes back to a phone call I got back in 2013. I remember it well. It was Friday, September 6th a little after 2:00 p.m. the first week after Labor Day. 

Labor Day had been pretty good. We'd invited the family over; her brother, his wife and kids and my two sisters with their families. We had the customary barbecue. The ladies drank their wine; we men quaffed down the beer, and the kids all swam in the pool.

The rest of the week was the usual 'back to work' bullshit. The 'Mrs.', that's Barbara, went back to her job, and me, I went back to mine. 

Now Barbara was thirty-seven, she stood close to 5'6", and weighed in somewhere around 130lbs. With brown hair and blue eyes; she was everyone's typical 'over the top' good looker who spent entirely too much time and money on clothes and other frivolities. She used to say what she did for a living required it, but the regular dental bleaching's, body massages, skin defoliants, or whatever that's called, plus the twice monthly trips to the hair salon always seemed like a lot to me.

Barbara earned a four year degree in business at a local college, got a job, and had worked her way up to be assistant supervisor in public relations at a mid-sized consulting firm outside DC. 

Me, I was thirty-eight, I stood just under six feet and weighed around 190lbs. I have brown hair and brown eyes. Barbara and I met in college, fell in love, and blah, blah, blah. I'm assistant head of accounting at a good sized corporation that specializes in lobbying for various charitable groups. 

We lived in a nice house in a mid-sized city about thirty miles northeast of DC. We'd squeezed out two kids along the way. Derek, the older was a high school senior and Elaine the younger a junior. They both attended the same school, but Elaine wanted a car of her own since she just got her license. I was going to see she got it too.

~~v~~

Now on to the real bull! I put in my week. Barbara put in hers. Like I said around 2:00 p.m. Friday I got a phone call. It was from one of Barbara's assistants. I hadn't known but one of her colleagues was retiring, and they were having an afternoon get together for him at one of the watering holes near their offices. The assistant informed me of the activity and she added that I needed to be there.

I almost never went to any of the things Barbara's people put together, and I guess over the years she'd decided to stop inviting me. But this one didn't fit. The retiree was Hank Chenowith. He'd been a long-time friend, and until he fell and broke a hip a few years back we used to regularly do some fishing together down on the Potomac. Don't get confused; he's an older man, the hip had been an indication of more serious problems, and since then he'd cut back on nearly all physical activity. He and I were real friends. I'd been to his house. I would have gone to his retirement.

The assistant told me the gathering was at a place called the Moor; they'd reserved a private section, and that everybody, employees and their spouses were invited. She also added that gifts were welcome. I knew I had to go. I asked her if my wife had told her to call me. The assistant told me no; but that she and her associates felt they needed to let me know. Curious, I asked her why. She told me I just needed to be there.

Her comment really did stir my curiosity. I'm not a suspicious person. I loved my wife dearly, and I'd do anything for her, but for her not to tell me about a get together for Mr. Chenowith didn't make sense. Had she forgotten? I didn't think she'd forget something like that, and why would a low level assistant feel the need, on her own volition, to call and tell me? Something didn't add up. I needed to go.

School let out at 2:30, and by the time I had cleared my desk and packed up I was able to text my kids. I texted both, but figured only Elaine would get back, what her wanting to butter up her old man about the car and all. 

I left the office and started for the Moor; with Friday traffic it was about forty minutes away. On the way I got a text from Elaine. I texted back and asked if she'd heard anything from mom. Elaine got back and noted mom had left a note that she'd be working late clearing up something that needed to be done before the weekend and that we were on our own for dinner. She said she'd be home around eight.

I texted Elaine back and told her to help herself to whatever she wanted, but to hang around home in case I needed her. She texted back to belly-ache about having to stay home. I responded with one word - car. She texted back that she'd stay by the phone. I thought, 'that's my girl.'

Now Barbara's admonition about dinner, coupled with having to 'work', plus the retirement thing really tweaked my curiosity. I needed to get to the Moor! 

I pulled in the lot; I suspected the place was usually crowded late Friday afternoons anyway. I wasn't disappointed. I had to park some distance away. That gave me a chance to scout out the lot. I looked around but didn't see my wife's car; so I guessed she was working late. I popped open my cell and called her work. I got their standard voice recording telling how the office was closed; it would reopen Monday, but to leave a message. 

As I walked toward the front door I was thinking how things kept getting more interesting. I went on in, found an employee and asked where the retirement party was. He led me to the room.

I stepped inside and saw nearly everyone from her office was there, the place was pretty crowded. I didn't see my wife anywhere. I thought she could have been there if she'd ridden with someone, but I didn't see her, not a trace. I knew several of my wife's coworkers so I gravitated toward them whenever I saw one. 

I asked each one if they'd seen my wife. I got an array of responses. Some said she had to miss because she had to get home. One even told me she'd said she and I had plans. I caught up with the young lady who'd called me, and asked her if she'd seen my wife. She told me no, and that she didn't expect her. I asked her then why did she bother to call me. She told me she didn't want to get in trouble, but that I should ask around to see if Mr. Woodland, a Mr. Matthew, Matt, Woodland was there or not. 

The young woman looked scared. I thanked her and walked away. I didn't want to let on, but with her comment my bowels just turned to ice, a rock was forming in the bottom of my stomach. A few years earlier I'd had a similar feeling; my son was on a middle school field trip and the school bus had run in a ditch. Several kids had been hurt, but no one knew which kids for quite a while. It's a scary feeling not knowing...I felt that way now. I mean had they ridden together and had an accident?

I held on. I found Hank Chenowith. I gave him my best, and promised to get him a gift. He asked for a new rod and reel. I told him I'd make a note of it, and made him a promise we'd get back together soon. He smiled one of those; yeah we will, but not here, not in this lifetime smiles. That's when I knew he was in pretty bad shape. I shook his hand, held it tight, made an apology for my wife and left. 

It was funny, odd funny not laughably funny, the look Hank gave me. He knew something, and it wasn't about his health. I had to get home.

~~v~~

I got home a little after 7:00 p.m. Derek had gone out, but Elaine was home. I asked her, "Have you heard anything from your mom?"

Elaine was fiddling with her cell phone. She looked up, "Huh?"

I repeated, "Have you heard from your mother?"

"No," she answered without looking up, "not since before."

Now I'm not an expert on the new technology stuff. I could text. I had GPS systems installed in our cars. I was pretty savvy when it came to computers, but the finer points of texting was still a little ahead of me, and it just occurred to me I needed to catch up, "Elaine you're good with the phone stuff right?"

She glanced over without actually looking up. I saw the suspicion, "Why do you want to know?"

"Nothing important," I answered, "just wondering could someone retrieve text messages from another person's phone?"

She stopped what she was doing, "You don't trust me?"

"No," I replied, "I trust you. I was just wondering; what if...oh say I wanted to see what was on somebody else's phone."

"Whose phone," she asked?

"Not yours."

"Not Derek's. He doesn't do anything anyway."

I was putting Barbara out of my mind, I chuckled, "You do?"

"No of course not. I'm not stupid. I read about what can happen."

I went back to my original question, "Could I?"

"Sure, it's easy."

"You know how?"

Elaine put her phone down, "Who do you want to check up on? Mom?"

I smiled, "Maybe."

Elaine grinned, "Sure I can show you. You can even download what she texts on your own phone."

"Elaine," I said, "I want you to show me, but you can't tell your mother."

"That's sneaky dad."

I laughed, "It is isn't it. You won't tell anyone?"

"You know me dad. I'm your girl, but I'll need to get mom's phone for a couple minutes, that is if you don't have any of her phone information yourself."

I sat down and turned on the TV, "I'll get her phone for you. You can set it up tonight, and show me tomorrow while we close the pool up."

"Dad!"

I grinned, "We get the pool done early we can go look at cars."

She smiled, "I'm good with that," she got up and started for her room, but she turned around real fast, "I love you dad."

I smiled back, "I know honey."

She tooled on up the steps.

I slipped into the kitchen, whipped up a ham sandwich and grabbed a soda. I plopped a few chips on a paper plate and went to the living room to watch TV and wait for Barbara.

I sat and watched nothing; there was nothing to watch. I thought about Barbara, our life together, why she might want to lie about something as stupid as a retirement get together. I wondered who Matthew Woodland was. I wondered why my wife had made up a story about working late. Was there something wrong? I didn't know, and frankly I didn't think I needed to find out. Whatever it was I was sure there was a perfectly plausible explanation. 

I went on and started thinking about the rubbing I'd heard the other night when Barbara turned her wheels; she probably hit something. I'd need to look under that right wheel well. 

~~v~~

Barbara got home a little after 9:00. I saw her car pull in the driveway, heard her get out, and come in. The way our house is arranged one can come in and go straight upstairs or step to the right and walk in the living room. Barbara came in and started straight for the stairs. She saw me, sighed and asserted, "I'm tired and feel grimy. I want to rinse off. Be back down in a minute."

I smiled, "Busy day?"

She started up the steps, stopped, nodded and said, "Uh huh."

I asked, "Get all your work done?"

She took another step, stopped, smiled faintly, held up a hand, wriggled her fingers, and said, "Down to the bone."

I said, "Why don't you soak in the tub a while, slip into something comfy, and just go to bed. I've got a ton of things to do before I come up. We can get together in the morning."

She looked relieved, but then I would too if I'd worked as long as she had. She replied, "Think I'll do that. She started on up the steps. Somewhere near the top step I heard her phone go blink, blink; her signal a text message was coming in. I think she stopped a minute but I couldn't tell. I went back to the TV. 

I guess sometime around 11:00 I fell asleep on the sofa. I got up, went upstairs. Barbara was asleep. I quietly retrieved her phone and slipped down the hall. I knocked on Elaine's door.

From inside Elaine yelled, "Who is it. I'm not dressed."

I whispered back, "It's your dad. I have your mom's phone."

Elaine came to the door, opened it, and let me in. All she had on was a bra and panties, but I was dad and didn't count. As we walked back to her computer desk she asked me, "You think mom's spending money again don't you?"

I was behind her so I couldn't see her face, but I heard the concern. Barb's run up some debt in the past. I reassured her, "I don't think so. I just want to be able to keep track of things," I know that didn't sound very convincing, but Barb had a couple shopping cards that...well...some of her friends.

I was surprised. With Barbara's phone and mine in hand she had everything done in less than a minute.

She said, "Sorry dad, but the way I've set ii up, until you get to your laptop you'll have to use mine."

I didn't give it a thought, "Sure babe. See you in the morning."

As I left her room she reminded me, "Don't forget, cars tomorrow."

I said, "I won't forget."

I went to our bedroom, Barb's and mine, slipped out of my clothes, changed boxers, and crawled into bed. Barb was already asleep. I lay there on my back with my hands resting behind my head and thought. Had Barb been doing something? Why hadn't she told me about Hank's retirement? Why had she made up some story about work? Who was Matt Woodland? Oh wait; Sunday was Rally Day at our church, and she was head of the Worship Committee. I bet she was typing up and running off bulletins. That would explain things.

Just the same I tried to go back and retrace what we'd been doing over the summer. Isn't that what men like me always do?

I couldn't think of anything. Barb was just as warm and considerate as ever. Our nighttime trysts had been just as pleasant and comforting. She hadn't been more or less critical. I hadn't felt neglected. Sure she'd worked extra late a couple nights. She'd gone away on a weekend seminar in August; that was a little unusual. My birthday had been in July and we'd had a little party. She'd spent the night at her mom's once; mom is a widow, so that was normal. She'd taken a couple days off from work here and there to get a few things done around the house. I honestly hadn't seen much accomplished, but that didn't mean anything. There'd been a few times I'd called her at work and she'd been unavailable, but she always had a perfectly reasonable explanation when I asked. No there wasn't anything; no reason whatsoever to doubt her. She was my girl, and I loved her. Eighteen years married and two before that with nary a doubt.

Still, who was this Matt Woodland, and why had the young assistant mentioned him? I decided not to bother Barb. She was a good mom, a great wife, a saint to her mother, and she worked hard; and me asking questions would sound tacky and tedious. I didn't want her to think I didn't trust her, because I did. I loved my wife. I believed in her. She would never do anything. I rolled over to go to sleep. But sleep just wouldn't come.

~~v~~

Saturday morning rolled around Elaine and I closed up the pool and then we went off to look at used cars. I already had a couple picked out. We shot over to a Cadillac place; they had a pretty good looking Kia on their used car lot. Excuse me, on their 'prior owned' lot. Elaine and I checked it out. It ran nice, had a cool five speed transmission, and only a little over thirty thousand miles on the odometer. I talked to the guy, an older gentleman, a real nice fellow. 

I told him my daughter and I were going to step away and grab something to eat, talk things over, and get back in an hour or so. The very nice older gentleman told me this particular car probably wouldn't be here when we got back. I asked him why, and he told me his boss had sort of set it aside for his daughter. They'd probably pick it up while we were gone.

Well I listened to him, thanked him and told him that his boss should get it for his daughter since we probably wouldn't be back. The nice gentleman told me he could save it if I put a little something down on it. I thanked him, but said no.

A few minutes later Elaine and I were driving over to a Toyota place when Elaine asked me, "Why didn't you buy the Kia dad. It's going to be gone now. His boss is getting it for his daughter; it's got to be a great deal."

I gave her a good fatherly smile, "Sweetheart that was just an old fart trying to give us the bum's rush. That car will be there next week. He was lying."

"That nice old man," she said?

"Yes," I said, "that nice old man."

Elaine sat back, "Gee it's getting so you can't trust anybody anymore."

That's when I gave her one my all-time best dad smiles, "Don't worry. You'll always have me and your mom. We'll never steer you wrong. Besides I've got my eye on a Toyota." 

We got the Toyota; it had a little more mileage and a scratch on the dashboard. The guy gave us a little off for the scratch and we took it. I called my insurance agent, gave him the information, and he put a binder on the car. I followed Elaine home while she drove her new car.

We got back and showed it off to Barb and Derek. Derek was a little miffed because it was newer than his Jeep; he also knew she got the more reliable vehicle. He complained a little, but not too much. I knew why too; his Jeep had a spacious back area. Of course I never brought anything like that up.

Barb saw the car and was delighted. We'd already talked. I'd mentioned the two cars, and Barb, based on my comments, had already said she preferred the Toyota. Barb's a pretty smart cookie.

A little later Elaine borrowed my cell phone. She said she wanted to do some sort of silly thing to it. She winked at me. I knew she was going to do something that would make it possible to see Barb's texts. I figured I'd never fool with them, but it gave Elaine something to do.

Barb had fixed a light meal; some seafood salad and a few curly fries. We all ate in silence. Derek had plans. Elaine spent most of her time texting. Near the end of dinner Barb got a text and had to step away for a second. After we ate I went out to make sure the pool was finished. A little later Barb and I watched some TV. She told me what she'd done all day; nothing much really, a little laundry, she'd ironed a few things for Elaine. Elaine wanted to go out and show off her car. I warned her to be careful and get back before dark. She said she would. She did too.


Just Too Happily Married



Around 10:30 Barb and I headed off to bed. Next day was Sunday. We're Methodists, and the first Sunday after Labor Day is Rally Day. We didn't expect the kids to go anymore, but we sure went. Barb already had a casserole ready. I'd forgotten about any bulletins. 

Well we got to bed and cuddled. Barb said she was kind of tired. I was disappointed but said I understood. We both kissed and rolled over to go to sleep. She got another text. She apologized, said it was probably a girl from work; she said the girl had been having problems with a program and might need some help. 

I gave my Barb a kiss as she got up. She said she'd call the girl back on the land line downstairs and walk her through whatever the problem was. I didn't think a thing of it. An hour later I still wasn't asleep, and Barb still hadn't come up. 

Was I worried: no not really. What was to worry about? How many times had people in my office called me on a Saturday night with a problem? I couldn't think of a single time. How many times had Barb gotten a similar call when I knew none of the girls in her office had done anything Friday afternoon except maybe get drunk. 

Barb came up a little later. I asked her if the problem had been solved. She said she thought so, but she might need to check in with the young woman tomorrow afternoon after church. I asked her if she planned on calling. Barb said no she'd probably go over. I said OK.

~~v~~

Well Sunday came. Church was church. Derek was gone. Elaine needed money to get her car washed. Around 2:00 p.m. Barb left to check on the young woman's problem.

Barb's car had a GPS. I activated it and checked back from time to time to see where she was. I wasn't spying on her. I was just checking. I know she didn't go to her office. She did manage to swing over to a location on Cashmere Drive. I got on the Internet, did a satellite search and saw an apartment complex over there.

Now these global satellite things don't give a live shot; it's usually something a few months or more old so I knew I wouldn't see Barb's car or anything like that. I did see that it was a pretty upscale complex. I made a note of it on my laptop. 

Barb got back around 4:00 p.m. She seemed pretty fresh. Well she'd had a shower that morning. Church hardly constituted hard labor, and a trip a few miles away in a thermally controlled car was hardly something that would work up a sweat so I had no reason to suspect anything. I didn't either. 

OK, I'd been reading up. There must be a hundred web sites that address all kinds of marital things. Maybe I had skimmed around a little. So what.

Barb got back. I asked her, "What you had to go to the office?"

She replied, "Yeah, had a little problem getting in though; the burglar warning system was turned on. Oh I know the code; just had to type it all in."

I said, "You don't say. Did you get the girl straightened out?" 

Barb sort of half laughed, "You know some of these young kids; they panic over everything. I got her straightened out though."

I outwardly smiled, inwardly not so much, I said, "We'll I'm glad you got her fixed."

Barb said, "Me too. Want to eat out tonight?"

I thought no. I didn't feel much like being around Barb right then. That's not what I said though. I said, "Olive Garden?"

She said, "Sounds great. We'll wait for the kids and all go."

That's what we did.

While at the restaurant Barb got a text, and wanted to step away since Elaine and I were talking about her car. I was getting a little worried. Elaine had been driving a little more than I wanted her to. I told her, "Now Elaine you know this car is mainly for school. I don't want you gallivanting all over the neighborhood."

I love that kid, "Don't worry dad. I'll be careful."

I warned, "No texting or talking on the phone while you're behind the wheel." I glared at Derek, "That means you too buster."

Derek just grinned and said, "You going to get a GPS for Elaine's car. I think you're going to need it."

That spoiled the evening for me but I didn't let on. I told him, "You can take that to the bank." I smiled at Elaine; we'll get that little baby done tomorrow when I get home from work."

She smiled, "I'm all yours dad."

Barb came back. I asked, "More trouble at work?"

She had a concerned look on her face, "No that was mom."

I asked, "She OK?"

She kept her eyes on her plate of salad, "No just lonely."

We finished dinner. I had some red wine. Barb had some too. The kids drank soda. We piled in my Chevrolet, Barb drives a BMW, and we went home.

Later that night when the kids were off in their rooms I tried to snuggle up to my wife. She begged off, said she had a headache and was worried about her mom. I thought, 'wow, nothing the whole weekend.'

Barb turned out her light; the last thing she said before she curled up in her pillow was that she thought she better take tomorrow off. She wasn't feeling too good. I snuggled over. I thought we'd spoon a little, but Barb rolled further away and said she was sorry.

I gave up. Monday was going to be busy for me.

~~v~~

What's the old line, "Monday, Monday, can't trust that day?"

I was up early. I awakened Elaine and Derek. Barb came down before I left, I asked, "Feeling any better?"

She sort of sighed or maybe it was a whine, "I'll be better. I just think maybe I ate too much, or what I ate disagreed with me."

I said OK. I kissed her forehead and left for work.

My Monday morning routine is pretty hectic. By the time I got myself organized I looked up and it nearly 12:00. I called John Huffman's office. John and I worked together on a lot of projects, and we spent most of our lunches together. We agreed to meet downstairs and cross over to eat at Luigi's, a small lunch restaurant and habitué of people like us. We went over, ordered and went to work. I had a shrimp salad. John got their chef's salad. We ate and talked about the usual nonsense.

John and I have been good friends and coworkers for a long time. In the past Barb and I used to have him and his wife over once in a while for dinner, but a little over a year ago things had gone south for the Huffman's. John's wife had taken up with a neighbor, ditched John and her kids and moved out. John had a tough time for quite a while. He and I had talked about it when it all happened; his one constant comment was that he never believed it could happen to him. But it had.

I felt sorry for him; he never deserved it. He worked hard; they had four kids, all a little older than mine. She'd filed for divorced on the grounds of mental cruelty. We both lived in Maryland; he lived in Chevy Chase, Barb and I lived a lot farther out. In Maryland there's no such thing as no fault divorce, at least not technically, and the term irreconcilable differences doesn't mean anything. In Maryland a beleaguered spouse can get at his or her mate using adultery, and the complainant doesn't even need visual or electronic proof either, they just need to be able to prove the likelihood of misconduct. Go figure what that means. John could've nailed her, but he had the kids and he didn't want to ruin things for them. Man he took it on the chin. 

I was glad I didn't have that problem. My marriage was on solid ground. John's life was a lot different. Oh he dated around; said he 'got it on' a few times, but it wasn't quite the same. He said twenty-two years is a long time; it's not easy just walking away, even if you're in the right. Like I said I was glad my marriage was OK.

I went back to the office after lunch and thought about John. I thought about Barb too. I thought about Matthew Woodland. Oh of course I was stupid. I knew that.

Around 2:00 p.m. I took a break; thought I'd look a few things up. Now everyone around the country thinks of Maryland as this big 'blue state', and it is in a lot of ways, but in a lot of other ways it's still very much 'old seer-sucker suit', Panama hat, 'big cigar' Old South. The Liberals and the lefties had done a lot, but like anything, they hadn't gotten everything. The schools and public companies were still expected to meet some pretty stiff standards. I didn't know, maybe it was a Liberal thing, but I found out most local companies, and the state government were pretty tight about things like morality. 

It was just a joke, a silly lark, but I checked up on Barb's company. Oh yeah, her company policies were there, all over the place on the Internet. Barb's company had some pretty stringent rules regarding sexual harassment, job site bullying, and something I'd never heard of, called a hostile working environment.

I thought about this chap, Matthew Woodland. Who was he? What if he's been harassing my beautiful girl? What if he's been forcing himself on her? Barb's a good girl, a company girl; she'd be scared to death to bring anything like that up. Of course if this Woodland guy was some kind of big deal, if he'd been chasing my lovely wife I'd have to fix him, yeah fix him good. I could imagine my sweet girl being afraid to rock the boat. She might even be afraid to say something to me. Of course she'd be afraid to tell me; she knew I'd be up the bastard's ass in a New York minute! 

I called over to her company and got a hold of an acquaintance; this was a guy I'd known since Barb started there. He was one of the good ones. I'd seen him at Hank's retirement. His name was Hugh Ballantine. 

I got Hugh's secretary, told her who I was, and that I needed to speak with her boss. She put me right through.

I got Hugh on the line, "Hey Hugh this is Ryan Greene, Barb's husband."

"Yeah Ryan we just talked Friday. How was your weekend?"

"Good, yours was too I hope."

"Yeah mine was OK, what can I do for you?"

I started, "You've got a man over there, name's Matthew Woodland. What can you tell me about him?"

Hugh chided, "You're not secretly working for the CIA are you?"

"No I just wanted to know a little about him."

Hugh started, "Well let's see, he's nobody really. I think twenty-two or twenty-three. Fresh out of college. He's sort of a flunky right now, but some of the middle men have high hopes. Why?"

I asked, "Has he got anything to do with my Barb?" 

"No," Hugh responded, "he's off in another part of the forest. Is there something I need to know?"

"Well the reason I'm asking Hugh is I think someone might be harassing my wife, and his name came up."

It got quiet on the other end; it seemed like a pregnant moment. I wondered, had I caught a sexual predator? If I had I'd get the son-of-a-bitch.

Hugh finally said something, "You know Ryan it seems like I have seen the two of them together every now and then. You want me to say something to HR?"

I sat back. I got the bastard, "No Hugh, Don't bother. I can handle this."

I sat farther back; 'Thank God. I found the problem.' The rest of the day was a breeze. On the way home I stopped and bought Barb a dozen red roses and a bottle of her favorite perfume. She needed to be comforted, I was her husband, and that was my job.

I got home my usual time. Barb was in the kitchen. She wasn't doing anything, just sitting at the table. I looked around and saw no sign of either Elaine or Derek. Glancing back at Barb it looked like she'd been crying.

I handed her the flowers and the perfume. I sat down, "What's wrong honey?" 

She wouldn't look at me. She looked down at the floor, "The kids...they've run away."

I sat back, "What?"

"They ran away. They left a note saying they weren't coming back until you came home. Elaine wants you to call her right away."

'Holy shit,' I thought, 'what's gotten into them?' I yanked out my cell phone and smashed my finger on Elaine's number. It only rang once, she answered. I was pissed, "Elaine what's going on. You and your brother get home right this minute!"

I heard Elaine crying, "Oh daddy."

I got scared, "You're not hurt. Derek's OK. You two weren't in an accident?" I cringed. I knew she was too young to have her own car.

She must have handed her phone to Derek. He sounded high pitched, kind of shrill, like he'd lost something, his poise, "Dad?"

"Derek what's going on?"

"Dad we're sorry. It was a mistake. We didn't know."

"For Christ's sake, what? Didn't know what?"

It was Elaine again, "Daddy..."

I thought, 'shit it was daddy. This really was serious', "What wrong sweetie?"

"Daddy just go to your laptop. Open mom's text messages."

I was flabbergasted, then I remembered. She'd connected my laptop with Barb's cell phone, but she'd connected it to hers too! I said, "Wait a minute."

I looked over at Barb. She was silently weeping, and she wouldn't look at me, "You know something about this?"

She whimpered, "No, I just know they're both very angry about something and they're blaming me."

I got Elaine back on the phone, "Where are you now?"

"Daddy."

"I said "Where are you?"

"We're at my girlfriend Cheryl's. Daddy you have to look at mom's texts."

My stomach was all in knots. That mother-fucker Woodland had not only been harassing my wife, but his shit was starting to infect my kids. I told her, "Come on home. I think I know what the problem is. Get on home. I'll fix this."

Elaine kept crying, she said, "No you don't daddy."

"Come home Elaine, and bring Derek with you. You can wait in the car if you don't want to come in."

Elaine sniffed, "OK daddy, and then, "Daddy I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart. Now come home. We can fix whatever it is."

I closed my phone. I looked over at my wife, "Has anybody been bothering you at your work? Who is Matthew Woodland?" 

I swear I would have never believed it. I've heard people say they've seen someone turn as white as a sheet. I thought for a split second Barb was going to pass out. It was so quiet we could have been in a mausoleum. 

I asked her, "Has been he harassing you?"

Stiff as aboard, white as a piece of printer paper, quiet as death Barb answered so faintly I could hardly hear her, she said, "No."

I was mad, really mad! This bastard Woodland had been harassing my wife, fucking with my family, and he had my wife so scared she wouldn't even tell me. I tried to calm down. I took a deep breath, "Barb listen to me. This last Friday I got a call. Someone told me about Henry Chenowith's retirement. I went over to the Moor. You weren't there. I called your office and it was closed. I know you made up the story about work. Don't be afraid there're laws about this. He's been harassing you hasn't he?"

She was wringing her hands together, twisting them all around. Her eyes were wider than saucers. I was getting afraid for her health. I spoke as calmly and as quietly as I could, "Tell me Barb. We can take care of this." I reached across to hold her hands, "Tell me honey."

She pulled her hands back, "No...he hasn't been harassing me. It's nothing like that"

I was just barely under control. I didn't quite know what to do. Should I drive over to where he lived and beat the living shit out of him? Or what? 

OK this is not where I stop and tell everybody I was in the military, that I was a navy SEAL, how I earned the Silver Star in Iraq or Afghanistan when I saved twenty of my buddies from an RPG attack. No nothing like that. But here's the truth.

I had joined the Maryland National Guard right after high school. I used the money they provided to help get through college. I never did anything. I was a clerk typist. I got through Basic Training, but I never really did anything. 

But! This is the big but. While I was in the Guard I smoked some; not a lot, but some. One day one of the officers who happened to be a doctor in the real world grabbed one of my arms. I never got past E5 by the way. He grabbed my arm and told me I had a problem. He said I should quit smoking or else! He said to go see my family doctor. Well I did. 

I went to our family physician. He took a look at me and gave me an immediate diagnosis. He said I had a disease called Cardiovascular Obliterans. For the unschooled it's also called Buerger's, or Burger's Disease. I don't remember. He asked me if I remembered how dizzy I got the first time I lit up a butt. I said yes. He said that was because my capillaries were squeezing together and squeezing out the oxygen. He told me in time they'd stay closed and I'd start to lose body parts because of gangrene. 

He said, "Don't believe me? Look it up." He got up out of his chair, walked around and with his hand cut across my legs just at the groin. He said in the end we'll probably cut them off about here. Then he said "Ryan you will walk or you will smoke, but you won't do both."

I nearly shit my pants. 

He told me to quit smoking and do anything and everything that would improve and restore circulation. Well I did. I started jogging. I got out the old set of York barbells that I'd bought back in the ninth grade. I started lifting weights. I lifted day and night. I ran every day. If anyone wanted to they could smell the fear on my weights and on my clothes. Did I resort to steroids, or honey, or vitamins? Hell no! I just worked. I worked my mother fucking ass off. Did I lose my legs? No! Did I quit smoking? Yes! Did I beef up? Did I get physically stronger? You bet your sweet ass I did! 

For sure I can't fight; never thrown a punch in anger in my whole life. But I was angry now, and I was built like a brick shit house. No rippling abs for sure, but I had the arms, the biceps, the shoulders, and the mother fucking power. If I said I could kick the bastard's ass, I could kick his ass. Fuck with my wife! Fuck with my family! God damn!

I tried my damnedest to stay calm, "It's OK Barb. You can tell me. This is Ryan. You know me."

Barb looked as scared as I felt mad. She whispered again, "No Ry", she called me Ry instead of Ryan sometimes, "he didn't harass me."

I had to get her to see. I told her, "Honey it's OK. Friday night Elaine took your cell phone and with an AP of some sort she hooked her laptop and my laptop in to it. We've got all the texts you've made to the bastard ever since. If we have to we can haul his ass to court. I know the law. I'm familiar with the harassment policies in your company's handbook. Believe me it'll be all right."

She collapsed. She dropped her head in her hands on the table, "No Ryan," she said, "he didn't harass me. I harassed him."

I was shocked. I heard but I just couldn't believe it. No! I got up from the table and walked back and found my laptop. I turned it on, found the folder, opened it, and started to read. 

Everything was wrong! This couldn't be! There were only maybe two hundred words; all in the day. They were like death! She was right; she was chasing him! Not him her. He wasn't married; at least I didn't think so. I read some of those lines over and over and over. 

There they were! They were awful!

"I love you Matt. You make me feel young again. When can we meet again? I can get away this Sunday. I want you so much. You're my heart. You have my heart. Let's both take Monday off? I need you inside me. I don't care. I'll do whatever you want. I'll leave my husband. I'll leave my kids. I can't live without you."

Well there it was. There it was in black and white. My wife, my family, my life, everything I'd ever worked for, all I'd ever wanted, all I ever valued sitting there on a computer screen. Dead. I felt dead. I wanted to die. I knew my life was over.

Then I heard a car pull up in front of the house; it was the kids. I shut down the screen and packed up the laptop. Carrying the laptop I briskly walked to the car. I got there just as Derek and Elaine were getting out. I pushed Derek back inside, "Go back to Cheryl's. Stay there until I call you."

Elaine looked at me. Oh her tear stained face! She said, "You read them didn't you."

I told her, "Just go back to Cheryl's and wait for my call."




Just Too Happily Married



She said, "OK daddy." 

They both got back in the car, but they didn't pull away. I yelled at them to leave, but Derek only drove about thirty feet. I thought, 'Fuck it.'

I turned and looked back at the house. All I thought was, 'You bitch. You fucking cheating adulterous bitch. You're going to get just what you want.'

I walked back to the house. Barb was at the front door, "Ryan I'm..."

I pushed by her. I guess I pushed a little too hard because she fell into the door frame. I didn't care. I walked quickly but deliberately up the stairs to our bedroom. In our bedroom was the pull down stairs that led to the attic. In the attic was our luggage. I went up, and threw down all her and my luggage. I stepped back down.

She was at the bedroom door, "Ryan."

I didn't bother to look. If I looked at her I knew I'd end up killing her. I went to her side of the closet and started pulling out her dresses, all those expensive dresses she just had to have. I started throwing them in first one suitcase then another.  

She stepped in, "Ryan I'm..."

I didn't look up I kept loading her shit. I said, "You're gone."

She stepped forward and grabbed my arm. I lost it. I didn't hurt her, but I lifted her on the bed, "You could start helping me load your shit."

She got up and just stared at me. I didn't wait. I filled the two-suiters, the overnighters and the two cosmetic bags. When they were full I went down and grabbed a box of garbage bags. I was surprised; it didn't take that long. I had everything she owned right down to her toothbrush in one container or another. I started hauling the shit out to her car.

She followed, "Ryan please."

I said, "You can help you know."

She said, "Please, don't do this."

She tried to stand in my way at the front door. I just brushed her aside again. She slipped and fell again. I didn't care. I felt like kicking her.

Pretty soon I had everything she owned in her BMW. I was surprised it all fit. 

She kept following me around, crying. She kept crying and begging, "Ryan please don't do this. Ryan. Oh please. I'm sorry. I was a fool. Ryan. Oh Ryan darling!"

I thought, 'Ryan darling; that's a good one.' 

Finally I had everything in. I threw her purse at her. It hit her right in the chest. I told her, "Get the fuck out of here, and never I mean never come back!"

She was hysterical. The neighbors were all in the street watching. She cried out, "Ryan don't do this. Don't send me away. I have no place to go."

I stopped. In spite of my anger I smiled, "Oh yes you do. You've got Matthew. Go to your new lover." I carefully and I must say for all my anger I gently eased her into her car. She still hit her head. I was about to slam the door shut when I saw the glint of gold. 

I said, "Wait a minute," I reached in, grabbed her left wrist, pulled her hand out, and twisted off first her ten year anniversary ring, then her engagement ring, and last her wedding ring. I took all three of them. By then it was nearly dark. I reared back and threw them as far off into the night as I could. I looked at her, "Now get the fuck out of here."

She was crying; I'd say she was frantic as she slowly pulled away. 

One of our neighbors, a close friend, asked, "Ryan what are you doing?"

I looked at him and said, "I'm getting ready to kill the next son-of-a-bitch who says anything to me."

He held up his hands and backed away.

I turned and walked back into the house. I went in the kitchen, collapsed in a chair, put my head in my hands and cried. It wasn't a 'come down' from an adrenalin rush kind of cry. I was crying because of what I'd just done. I'd thrown my wife out of our house. I'd thrown away nearly twenty years of love. But then I stopped. I hadn't thrown anything away, she had.

I found my cell phone and called the kids, "It's OK to come back now."

~~v~~

The kids weren't very far away. They got back and saw the wreckage.

Derek walked in and asked, "I saw mom leave. Where'd she go?"

I said, "To her lover."

Derek didn't say anything he just went upstairs. 

Elaine looked at me and cried, "Oh daddy. Didn't you talk to her?"

The way she said it reminded me of the little girl Zuzu in that old movie 'It's a Wonderful Life'. 'Yeah,' I thought, 'but there ain't no angels around to save this mess.'

The next morning I got the kids up. We had a short talk. I made them understand that woman would never set foot back in this house again. Even if I had to burn the place down; she'd never be back. My kids were suitably cowed. I told them if their mother called they could talk to her. If they wanted to live with her they could. I told them they were both old enough to make that decision. I also told them that no matter what I loved them; I just couldn't be around their mother again, not ever.

They left for school; each driving their own car.

I called out sick for the rest of the week. I knew what I had to do; only I took it a lot further. Sure I closed the accounts. I shut down the credit cards. I went to the bank and changed everything over. I cancelled Barbara's car and health insurance. I cut off her cell phone. I made an appointment with a lawyer. I called a locksmith and got him out to change the locks. I did all that and more.

I was out for blood. Now in Maryland there's no such thing as 'alienation of affection'. If I wanted money from 'that man', I wouldn't get any. I didn't anyway. What did I care? I was fucked anyway. I called Barbara's company and set up an appointment with HR. They needed to know. They had a contract. I wouldn't call it a morals contract, but it meant the same thing. It was my fondest hope I'd have Matthew Woodland and Barbara Greene out looking for work by the end of the week.

~~v~~

Well my efforts to ruin their careers didn't work exactly the way I planned, but I was close. I went to see their HR people. I took the texts with me. That's all I needed. The head of HR was a man. He politely advised me they'd see to Mr. Woodland, but my wife had too much time in. He said she certainly couldn't stay in public relations; they'd have to find her something else.

Everything else took a lot longer. I saw a lawyer and he explained a little bit about Maryland law. If I tried to go for a divorce it would be painful and incredibly expensive, but Maryland had an alternative. Maryland had what was called a 'separation agreement'. 

The lawyer explained things this way. There was what he called a 'limited divorce'. Technically we'd still be married, but we'd live apart. There could be no sexual relations as long as we were separated. If after a year there was no resolution then the limited divorce became what he called an 'absolute divorce'. During that year not only could Barbara and I not have relation with each other, but if we had relations with anyone else it would be considered adultery. Aha! If she touched her new boyfriend she would have committed adultery. Damn, she already had, but I'd have her. I'd have her cold, cut up, and yes sir, sliced and diced. I hated her! I hated her so much!

Of course there were child support issues, alimony maybe, custody, health insurance, some issues with property, but most importantly there'd be a date. One year from the initial date and the real divorce would go into effect. I asked the lawyer if one spouse could file for this without the others consent. He said yes, but a judge might insist on some kind of counseling. 

I thought counseling - the hell with counseling! But the lawyer told me if a judge ordered it I'd have to do it. That pissed me off, but I figured in the end it would be the price I'd have to pay.

I gave him the go ahead' and left his office. I was numb. I was destroyed. Deep inside I still had trouble believing what she'd done. But it was there. It was all there. I was amazed how she'd changed. I was just as amazed at how much I'd changed. In less than a week I'd changed from a loving husband prepared to die for his wife; to a man obsessed with hate, a man consumed with revenge. Did I care? No! I was Shylock; I would get my pound of flesh even if it meant cutting out her worthless cheating heart.

Hank Williams, "Your Cheatin Heart." Until this I only thought of that song as something fun to dance to. Now, well...

A couple weeks later word got back to me from another friend at her company, an insider. They'd transferred Woodland to another location in another state. My friend figured he'd be allowed to work there till the flames died down, and then they'd find a reason to dump him if he didn't quit first. He said they had the same plan for Barbara. She was shifted out of public relations and into a department she knew next to nothing about. It meant a reduction in pay. He figured she'd be canned in a year. Yes, I was getting my revenge.

Nothing else worked. Derek was angry with both of us. He packed up and moved in with a friend. He promised to keep me up on school. I promised to see that tuition was paid when he graduated.

Elaine moved back, but it wasn't a happy time. I could check her grades by looking on the Internet. When I saw they were dropping her response was lethargic. I got the classic, 'Oh whatever'. I didn't know what to do.

Barbara did move in with Woodland. Hell she didn't have any other place. She stayed there about a week until I was told she found something for herself. I found out where it was; what a rat-hole! Well she had it coming.

I had the house, and intended to stay. We had a lot of equity built into it. We'd lived there more than ten years, and we'd refinanced twice. We never got hit with the housing collapse. We'd been proud of our wisdom back then; now it didn't matter so much. If we couldn't work an agreement we'd probably sell it. I looked around. There were so many memories.

Memories; that was another problem; I was surrounded by them. Everywhere I looked I saw reminders of our past life, another life, a dead thing now. There were pictures, but it was more than the pictures. Sure the family portrait taken when Derek first started middle school, our wedding picture, Elaine in her tutu; they all mattered. I guess the figurines under the plastic dome in the China closet were a bother. 

No still it was the stupid stuff, the scrape on the kitchen table from when Barb cut herself, the scratches on the hardwood floor when we dragged in the piano Barb just had to have, and the scratches from when we dragged it back out after she gave up taking lessons.There was the picture of the two of us on our fifteenth wedding anniversary, she and I behind the pilot's wheel when we boarded the cruise liner. Oh my Gosh; the picture from a year's ago barbecue, me holding a beer, arm draped around Barb, her smiling that 'knowing' secret smile. We'd just slipped in a quickie right under the neighbor's noses. Yeah, oh yeah those were the things that hurt. I mean really hurt. How could she? 

My lawyer filed the forms for the 'separation agreement' in Hagerstown in Washington County, but shit I forgot, it was Maryland. Maryland was the state where speedy meant slow, slow meant tortoise-like and tortoise-like meant inert. 

After seemingly senseless delays my lawyer finally filed nearly three weeks later in October. The courts needed time to set their calendar. We didn't get a date till November 19th, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Nothing counted until we got a date. I thought, 'They don't tell people about this kind of inanity in the newspapers.' 

So there we were, just before Thanksgiving, in the Hagerstown Courthouse, an Eighteenth Century shithole, and the assigned judge had skipped out to God knows where. We had a substitute, and hadn't found out about it until we got there. My lawyer told me not to worry; this was just a formality. 

I sat at my table with my lawyer; Barbara sat at her table with hers. We'd been scheduled for the morning, but things were slow and tedious. We had to wait around till late afternoon. Now before us sat a judge who looked older than Methuselah. He might have been Methuselah for all the time he took. 

As for Barbara; she looked gorgeous! I felt tired and haggard, but she looked like she'd just come back from vacation. Her hair was perfect, makeup flawless, the dress she had on fit like a sleeve. She looked fresh, and healthy, and young. I guessed fucking a man only six years older than her son must be therapeutic.

My lawyer leaned over and whispered, "This is Judge Landis; things could get a little tricky. They say his granddaughter's ex-husband treated her pretty roughly in their divorce.

'Just what I needed,' I thought, 'a grandfather filled with righteous anger.'

The judge was slow, excruciatingly slow as he looked over the paperwork. The clerk, a very young looking woman, had to stand beside him as he slowly turned the pages, all eight of them. Finally he squinted out at us over his glasses. I could barely understand his garbled remarks. He looked at me, "You'll get your year. It'll start today," he turned to the clerk and muttered, "What day is it?"

The clerk smiled softly and said, "The nineteenth."

The old man smiled at the clerk. I saw him gently pat her hand, "Thanks honey," he looked back at me and frowned, then he looked at Barbara and smiled, "I see you've got two children, a girl who's sixteen and a boy of seventeen. They're old enough to understand. I'll expect to see them right after Thursday, say Friday morning at this location," he took a couple scraps of paper and jotted down an address. Then he added, "I'll expect the two of you to be there as well."

My lawyer stood up, "But your honor!"

The judge reached for his gavel, knocking his glasses off in the process. He hit the wooden 'sounding block' a glancing blow, "This is my courtroom son. You won't interrupt."

My lawyer sheepishly sat back down.

My hopefully someday ex-wife's lawyer stood then.

The judge looked up, "Yes?"

Barbara's lawyer politely, no obsequiously stated, "Your honor my client respectfully requests that there be counseling."

The judge smiled at my wife. He looked at me and scowled, then looked back at my wife, "I see this separation request isn't your idea," he turned to me again and in an unfriendly tone added, "There shall be counseling..."

My lawyer arose again, "With the court's permission..."

The judge looked down his nose at my man, "Yes?"

"With the court's indulgence,' my lawyer added, "we'd like to participate in the selection of any counselor."

The judge, almost ignoring my lawyer said, "I'll choose the counselor," then he looked at me, "Whoever it'll be will be someone who'll treat both spouses fairly."

I shrugged. I heard the whistle and felt the railroad tracks on the back of my neck.

Then the judge closed the proceedings. "I'll see both children at the indicated location Friday morning. I expect both parents to be present. No lawyers need be present. Between now and then I'll examine this couple's resources and make a decision. Now will there be anything further?"

My man said, "No your honor."

Barbara's lawyer concurred, and that was that...until Friday. 

As we stepped outside the courtroom Barbara approached me, "Should I bring the kids or do you want to?" 

I had no idea; had she gotten to them? I replied, "Well Derek's staying with..."

She interrupted, "He's with me right now."

Shit I thought he'd moved in with a friend. Now I find out my son's with the cheating whore. Turncoat! I started to say something about Elaine, "Well I'll..." 

Barbara interrupted me, "I know Elaine's with you. Tell her I said hello, and that I love her."

I thought, 'This is seriously screwed up.' I responded, "Then its Friday morning at this..." I saw the address; it was a private home on the outskirts of Hagerstown, "address." I didn't know it then but we'd be at the old judges' private residence, and my kids, my son anyway, had pretty much betrayed me.

~~v~~

We all met at the judge's house. I guess he could do it; we seemed to have become, though I didn't know or understand why, his 'project'.

Barbara and I sat outside in what I would have termed a small parlor. There were only two old ornate something like Queen Anne's chairs, a larger love seat, and an old roll top desk with a swivel chair in front.

The two of us sat uncomfortably, I sat on the loveseat and was tired and uncomfortable; Barbara sat in one of the chairs reading a novel. She looked marvelous! We sat there for nearly two hours; no water, no chance for a bathroom break, nothing.

The kids went back to a closed off adjacent room and sat with the judge. I could faintly hear them talk. Every now and then I heard laughter. I couldn't understand the content of the discussion.

Shortly before noon the judge and my kids came out. Derek shook the judge's hand, he kissed his mom, but only nodded toward me. Elaine kissed the judge on the cheek. She thanked him. I didn't know what for. She kissed her mom, and, standing back, politely told me she'd wait for me. 

I thought, 'well thanks for nothing.'

The judge smiled at Barbara and said, "I'd like to see you tomorrow say 9:00 a.m. if you can make it."

Barbara smiled sweetly and said she could. She could really turn on the charm.

He looked at me, "I'd like to see you now. Can you do that?"

What choice did I have; I said yes. He led me back to the room where he and my kids had been. We both sat down in another of those two old chairs. He offered me a glass of water. I took it. Then he started.

"Mr. Greene I've read your lawyer's paperwork, and talked to your children. Your wife's behavior has been, of course, almost inexcusable. To have an affair with another man, in this case a much younger man is a cruel betrayal of your trust. It says here you've been married quite a while; eighteen years in fact. You met in college, and you've written how deeply you loved her. I know what she did must hurt terribly."

I started to say something. For the first time I felt like I had his empathy, "Your honor I'd like..."

He held up his hand, "Let's leave the 'your honor' for the courtroom. In here I'm just Allen."

I wanted to continue. I started to talk again, but he stopped me again, "No, it's my turn. You'll get a chance in just a minute. Ok?"

I said, "Yes sir...Allen."

He smiled, he actually smiled, "Maybe a glass of Brandy?"

I said, "No I'm good."

"All right," he said, "let's look at what happened. First your wife broke her vows. She left the nest and had an affair with a much younger man. I sent my secretary out Tuesday this week. I got some pictures. I'd say he's quite handsome; a hunk I think is what my secretary called him. Yes, a real head turned."

I felt my stomach roll over.

The judge went on, "You certainly love, or loved her dearly. Her betrayal, any betrayal like this is the worst that can happen to a happily married man, and you were very happily married."

I huskily replied, "Yes...I was."

"But then what happened? You discovered what she'd done, and you reacted, or I should say you overreacted."

I started to say something. But he stopped me, "I have it right here Mr. Greene, Ryan. You quite literally physically threw her out of your house. Your children were there. You remember don't you? You pushed her aside. They saw it. They said you knocked her down. Mr. Greene that's not how grown men, grown men with their children present behave toward someone they loved. Mr. Greene, Ryan, you were pretty ruthless that night weren't you?"

I replied the best I could, "Judge, I mean Allen. You don't understand. I trusted her. I thought he, that man, that hunk, was harassing her. I found out she'd been harassing him. She'd chased him! She was my wife! I read her texts! She wanted to leave me and go with him! Your honor, Allen, this just isn't fair. I gave her..."




Just Too Happily Married



He interrupted, "Ryan I know. I have your comments. You've been quite, how shall I say, colorful in your descriptions. Your feelings, you said it yourself, your emotions ran wild. Your son said he thought you threatened a neighbor, an old friend. Ryan you understand you could have been arrested?"

I slumped, "OK, I over did it a little, but wouldn't you?"

He sat back, "I don't know Ryan. I honestly don't know. But I do know this; your wife is entitled to something here. Have you let her tell you anything yet? Did she ever get in a word, either that evening or at any time since?"

I felt overwhelmed, devastated, "No, I thought..."

"Ryan; eighteen years, two children, twenty years of devotion, and not even a word?"

I was cornered, "No I guess. I mean yes, I guess..."

He smiled, "So you'll let her tell her story. I don't think it will do any good, but who knows. You might at the very least get some closure?"

I started thinking, 'My father. I'm talking to my father.' I responded, "I suppose it couldn't hurt." I added, "It won't change anything."

The old judge folded his hands, "OK, let's look at the financial piece."

'Uh oh,' I thought, 'this is where I get drawn and quartered.' "Yes," I said.

He looked at some paperwork in his lap, "Your wife's income rivalled yours until her 'position shift'. And yes we know why she lost her supervisory job. The why doesn't matter, but she makes much less now. I've seen her knew habitation; it's a lot different from the house you and she have been buying. You still live there I believe."

"Yes sir I do," I replied. My mind was running away on me, 'I was going to lose my house. This will get back to my work. I'll be humiliated.'

The judge started to lecture me, "Not to punish you, but if your wife continues where she is she'll need your help. It will be your responsibility to set something up for her. 

I see you dropped her from your health insurance. Hers is higher and the coverage is less. There are other expenses too. You cut her out of your car insurance. Companies will find out; they'll try to put her on an 'assigned risk policy.' You dropped her from your credit cards. You may have ruined her credit score. The credit card companies could have a field day with her. You see what you've done? 

Ryan she's still technically your wife. She's the mother of your children. You've done things here. You've rushed into things that will hurt you, her, and your children. 

He continued, "Son I know you're hurting. People where you work will talk; you'll be labelled a cuckold. The violence the night you evicted her will get back too; you could be branded a batterer. If she turns her lawyer loose...I know him, he'll be merciless." 

He wouldn't let it go, "Think of her too. You loved her once, for twenty years you loved her. She's been demoted. She's a beautiful woman. You know how women are; she'll be humiliated every day she goes in. They'll call her a whore, a Jezebel. What of your children? Her disgrace and her adultery will harm them, but your vengeance will too. Every value the two of you have tried to teach will be questioned. They're hurting Ryan, and you're both to blame. 

Now about the money; I'm afraid you'll have to help with some of it, maybe until the year is up."

I asked, "How much?"

He handed me a paper with some figures on it.

I stared at the paperwork in disbelief. "I can't do this. I'll have to sell the house. Judge it's the only home Elaine's ever known. I don't think Derek remembers...No sir I can't do this."

He took back the paper, "There's another way."

Desperate, I asked, "What's that?"

"You have a spare room in your house. Elaine says it's a small office."

I started shaking my head no.

He kept talking, "Elaine offered to give up her room for your estranged wife. The two of you could still be officially separated as long as you agree to avoid any intimate contact."

I kept shaking my head back and forth.

He kept going, "I could order that you be moved out till Elaine turns eighteen. Ryan the mother always gets first priority when it comes to children. I won't do that to you. Barbara needn't stay with you the whole year; just long enough to get her finances in order. That could take a few months, maybe just a few weeks."

I sensed the imminent axe, "I don't..."

"Mr. Greene they're your children, your future. You can't tell me you couldn't be at least civil to your wife for a few weeks. We'll be in counseling. Who knows? I'm not suggesting reconciliation, but you and your estranged wife will be around one another for as long as you live. Your children are entitled to something out of this don't you think?"

I slapped my hands on my knees, "I need to use the bathroom."

Judge Landis pointed to a nearby door. I excused myself. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. How could she look so good, and me so bad? Why am I making all the sacrifices when she was the one who ruined everything? It's not my fault! It's not fair! But I knew I was beaten.

I went back to where Judge Landis was waiting, "I'm not promising anything, but I guess if she stayed out of the way..."

He neither smiled nor frowned, "I'll be talking with Barbara. Maybe then we can all three get together again," he stood up and held out his hand, "Ryan, these things happen; you'd be surprised sometimes they work out. I'm not suggesting a return to something that's clearly been irretrievably lost, but some kind of amity isn't totally beyond the realm of possibility. One day your children may marry. There may be grandchildren. Someday you and Barbara will have to at least pretend. You may even be friends again."

I wanted to cry, just cry, but I knew he was right, not right about being friends though.

~~v~~

I had no idea where things were headed. I hoped Barbara would refuse to move back, but I wanted to keep the house. Even if I only held it for another couple years, just long enough to get Elaine out of high school and into college. I needed that house! All that looked less promising as it was; Elaine's grades had already collapsed. 

Late Thursday, a week after Thanksgiving I got a call from Judge Landis's office. Barbara wanted to move back, but she'd take the small office room. Elaine could keep her room. We set the date for her move for that Sunday.

Sunday came. I hired some movers, and within four hours Barbara was back where it all started. The kids were jubilant. Barbara seemed wary. Me, I was miserable. I left. I stayed away all day. I ate out, and didn't get back until it was time for bed.

While I was gone Barbara and Elaine cleaned the whole house from top to bottom. Derek got Barbara's car and washed it. He stopped by the station we usually used, it was closed, but he told me he left a note; he wanted them to look it over. Derek said the thing, an old Chevy Cavalier, was in petty bad shape. Elaine and Derek worked out a system where they'd split their school driving so their mother could use one their cars to go to work. 

Our living arrangements brought changes I hadn't foreseen. Except for Barbara's small room I still had free run of the house, but everything else was different. 

Barbara had all her clothes so Derek gave up all his closet space and moved his stuff downstairs. We had a simple cellar bathroom; a toilet, small sink, and shower. Derek started doing all his cleaning there. 

There were no bath facilities in the old office, but Elaine's room did have a full bathroom. Barbara and Elaine shared that. I still had the master bedroom, our old king-sized bed, a full bathroom with a shower and Jacuzzi. The master bedroom had a huge double closet. Before the break up Barb's clothes took up most of the space. I offered to share, but no one took me up so I had an enormous closet that was mostly empty while everywhere else things were piled up. 

Downstairs was set up so I got the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, and the laundry room whenever I wanted. Barbara and the kids said they'd only use the kitchen when I was at work or in bed. They told me if I wanted to use the kitchen they'd immediately vacate. I got the living room and the TV whenever I wanted. Elaine had a TV so they decided they'd do all their watching in there. I could go in if I had to, but they'd stay out of my way everywhere else. 

I had the whole house almost to myself. That first week when I went into a room they'd all just disappear. Barbara literally jumped to get out of my way. 

Sometimes I felt like she was hiding from me. Once I went to the kitchen to get a soda. I heard her and found her standing in the back of our walk in pantry.

I stepped to the door and asked her, "Why are you hiding in here?"

She scooted out with a sheepish, "I'm sorry." 

Damn it! She acted like she was afraid of me. Sure I hated her. I hated what she'd done. She'd broken my heart and ruined everything, but I would've never hit her! I think it was deliberate; Barb was playing the martyr. It just wasn't right! 

By the end of the first week I was miserable. I had the house, but felt like an outcast. Wherever I went they left, if I was someplace they stayed away. 

I saw a movie once where a guy had died and came as a ghost. He saw everyone. He'd try to talk to them, but they acted like he wasn't there. That was the way I felt. If things didn't change I knew I'd be leaving. I didn't want to do that. I had as much right as anybody to be in my own home, but they were deliberately ostracizing me.

~~v~~

Time marched on, and I felt an increasing sense of alienation. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. I was the father. I'd done everything a dad was supposed to do. I'd been the primary bread winner. I'd set the disciplinary standard. Barbara had been the pal. I taught them how to ride their bikes, how to ice skate, how to drive. In wintertime I was the one who shoveled the walk. All Barb ever did was make brownies and cocoa. 

I remembered the cocoa and brownies because of something that happened. I came in the kitchen one night and they were sitting at the table with, yeah brownies and some cocoa Barb had just made. Before I went in I heard them laughing and talking; it sounded like it did from when before. I came in, and they got up and left. Elaine wrapped up the brownies and stuffed them in the refrigerator. The three of them silently just took their cups of cocoa and went upstairs. They left me without saying a word; I just stood there alone in the kitchen. Elaine or Derek could have offered... 

Now that we were estranged; separated but in the same dwelling I felt like I had to beg for approval from the people who should be seeking mine. My children avoided and ignored me and it hurt.

~~v~~ 

That day of days finally came.

Barb, the judge, and I had met two times; three more were planned. I repeatedly listened to Barbara apologize. I heard her tell me and the judge time after time, over and over, how she'd made a mistake, how regrettable her actions were, and how if she'd had it to do over again she wouldn't. I was tired of hearing her tell me how she wished she hadn't done what she had. I was sick of her regret. I regretted it too. 

She traded on the judges and my emotions with her constant crying. Over and over I was told to be patient. It was tiresome.

The sessions were supposed to be confidential, but someone was talking and it wasn't me. My kids had taken sides. OK, I told them they could do what they wanted, but I knew Barbara was telling them 'her side' of our meetings. I wasn't going to enter into that. Worse, I have two sisters. I know they'd sided with Barbara. They knew in detail my anger the evening I threw Barb out, but their understanding of what she'd done to me and our family was skewed. I was being 'ganged' up on. 

I knew what the judge wanted; he wanted reconciliation. I thought it was a possibility; a very far off, remote, distant, way forever away possibility, like in some other lifetime. 

Somehow I had allowed them to persuade me to put reconciliation back on the table, but I wanted answers. Why had she run around like she had? Had I done something wrong? Had I failed? Had I been indifferent to her wants and desires? Was I a bad lover? Had I been insensitive? I just didn't know. If I had failed what was it that she saw in that 'boy' she didn't see in me? Why had she been so willing to throw everything we had, everything we'd built away? 

Sometimes I felt like Barbara was being coached by the judge. I mean it was all too pat. I was close to the edge. I didn't see any purpose to the counseling sessions. Back at home I felt like I was being driven away. At work all I got was piteous looks. In my spare time I started scouting around for an apartment. I mean what was the use? 

Then one morning it happened; it was our third of five scheduled counseling session. The flood gates just burst open, and I got my answers. 

I was so terribly distraught. I'd laid it out for like the umpteenth time. I said, "No more bull shit. Barb tell me. Get it off your chest. Why him? What was it?"

I was totally surprised. She finally decided to open up. I watched the judge try to stop her. He said, "Barbara don't jump into this. Ryan's not ready."

Barb said, "I can't hold it in any longer. He's got to hear."

I watched the judge; he just started to shake his head.

Barb opened up. 

"Ryan," she said, "Matt was different. He was young. He was exciting. He was unpredictable. Once instead of just going to the bed he threw me on it. He lifted me up and threw me on the bed. It was so terribly exciting!"

Once she got going it was like a tsunami, "We did it in the shower at his apartment. You remember I told you I went on a seminar in August. I lied. It was a phony seminar; we slipped away and rented a cottage. While we were there one time he leaned me over the kitchen table and we did it doggy fashion. I mean every time we were together it was like an adventure."

She really pressed in the knife. She was good too, "He made me feel young and sexy. He kept telling me how beautiful I was. He loved my hair. He snuggled me, and hugged me, and he kept touching me. He said I was irresistible. He wasn't better. I mean not physically, not that way, but he was so daring, so 'devil may care'. He held my hand wherever we went. He made me feel alive! Once he just took cream and rubbed it over my whole body."

I couldn't resist, "Did he see where they took out your appendix. You remember that. I do. I guess your hero was maybe six then."

She wasn't listening; she kept going, "Oh I love you Ryan, but you'd become so uninteresting so boring."

I thought, 'Boring? Well I guess so. After twenty years things get pretty predictable.' 

She was killing me, "You're so normal so dependable. You took care of me, you took care of things, but everything was always the same. I always knew when you wanted a big romantic evening because you always, I mean always showed up with flowers, or perfume, or candy. Sometimes I felt like the gifts were a down payment for sex. Every Valentine's Day was the same. You were so predictable.

Oh Ryan, I loved that in you, but Matt was so wild and free and uninhibited. You were the stable one. You protected me. I felt safe; you managed the budget. You looked after the cars. You saw to the house. Everything was so orderly. Oh I loved all that in you, but Matt was so unrestrained. He didn't undress me; he tore my clothes off."

Then she delivered the coup de grace. She slit my throat. She opened my heart and I watched twenty years of love spill out on the floor, "Ryan," she said, "you were easy. You were easy to please, easy to fool. You believed everything I said. I could have told you anything and you would have believed me. Oh God Ryan, right up to the end, right up to the moment when you actually saw and read my texts you believed it was Matt who was chasing me. For you to even consider that I would cheat on you; it just wasn't in you. For you I could do no wrong. You were so easy to fool. I led you on. I lied. I made up stories and you didn't even suspect, not once. I could get away with anything I wanted."

Then, like though I was already dead, she had to finish it one more time, "And when you found out, when you realized it was me who chased Matt you changed, you changed right in front of me. I honestly thought you'd be able to handle it. I was sure you'd manage it. I thought if I got caught you'd sit down with your computer or calculator or a piece of paper or something. You'd make a list. You'd work it out. You'd solve the problem. You were so methodical. I knew you. I knew what you would do, or I thought I did."

"But you didn't. You didn't do what I expected. The Ryan I'd known for twenty years went berserk. I never unexpected it. I never saw it coming. You went wild. You terrified me. You became a different person. You suddenly became dangerous; not exciting dangerous like Matt, but terrifyingly dangerous. I couldn't trust you anymore."

I felt like she'd knocked me down, beaten me to a pulp, and to finish me off she'd scraped my face across a concrete sidewalk. I was flattened, I had no comeback. I managed, "You couldn't trust me? I was...methodical? I'd handle your adultery like it was some equation? Was that all I was to you; a mathematical formula, a machine, some kind of computer?" 

I realized she never knew me. 

At that moment the judge intervened, he said, "I'm sorry I let you go so far Barb. Ryan I'm sorry she said these things." 

Then Barb looked at the judge, "I'm sorry too. I just wanted Ryan to know how trustworthy he was, how much I depended on him. How no matter what about Matthew I've always been able to count on Ryan."

That's when the judge finally stepped up for me. He knew what I knew; the damage she'd done was irreparable, "Barbara," he said, "for twenty years Ryan's been there. He's been your rock. He's been there out of love. The flowers, the candy, the perfume they weren't bribes for sex. They were gifts. They were his gifts of love. I've been listening Barb. This is nearly our last session. We've been at it for quite a while. You know what; there's been one thing missing from everything you've said. I haven't heard you say the word love once. Not once have I heard you tell your husband you loved him; not in our sessions anyway, not in front of me."

Barb replied, "But I do love him. I love everything about him."

Judge Landis the counselor disappeared, Allen the man emerged. He finally buried what was left, "Do you really? Have you ever, really?

That was it for me. I stood up and said, "That's it for me. Judge this is over. I know we have two more sessions, and I'll come, but after that...sorry."

Barbara started crying...again.

I went on. I felt dead but a little alive too, "Barb you know what I always wanted to be." 

She looked. All I saw was confusion.

I told her, "I wanted to be a cowboy. When I was a kid "Poncho and Lefty" was my favorite song. Then Toby Keith came out with "Should've Been a Cowboy." I was in high school. I even bought a guitar, got pretty good too. I think it's still in the attic someplace. Do you even remember I used to play the guitar? I don't think you do."

I had to have it out, not so much with Barb as with myself, "Barbara I had a friend who left Maryland and went to Australia. I never saw or heard from him again. I wanted to go too. I was only eighteen at the time. I joined the National Guard instead. My dad said, 'Join up. Do the right thing. Serve your country.' I was supposed to go to college. So I went to college. I got a degree in accounting. I met a girl, we got married, we had two kids, we bought a house. I did all the stuff everybody said I was supposed to do."

Barb was crying so hard. I don't think she heard me, but then...I had to go on, "Look at me. I became the regular normal guy everybody wanted. I did all the things expected of me. I played by the rules. I was always the 'good sport'. And Barb, what did you do? You went out and fucked a kid."




Just Too Happily Married



She'd stopped. She was sniffling, but I wasn't sure she heard me. I told her my hidden thoughts, "I'm sorry Barb. I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you. But honestly I look back. I wasn't enough for me either."

I'd really stopped talking to Barb. This was for me, "I'll be forty soon. My first twenty years I spent growing up. The last twenty I've done all things everybody said I should do. I suppose that included the flowers and the candy and the just in bed sex. That's over. I'm not 40 yet. I've missed a lot. I'm sorry you found out I wasn't enough. But you're right." 

She was gasping for air. Through her tears she started, "Ryan I..."

I wouldn't let her. This wasn't about her anymore, "No Barbara. When this is over, and our year is up I'm going to start over. I'll leave the company. My kids don't need me. You sure don't. You need wild and free. Sorry I don't know where I'll be going or what I'll be doing, but it sure ain't gonna be this anymore! 

I turned and looked at Judge Landis, "Judge I want to do the last two sessions. I'll stick it out till next November; then I'm gone." 

I closed, "Barb I love you. I'll always love you. What's not to love - you're perfect. But I don't want perfect anymore. I don't know what I want. I do know I want different. Who knows what the future will bring? I'm keeping all; I mean all my options open. I'm telling you after next November if I never see you or Derek or Elaine again it'll be all right because I know I did my best. Next stop for this train is for me. I owe this to you; I'll love you forever for it."

She was crying like a baby. I stood up, "Judge I'll be going now," and I left.

~~v~~

I couldn't make it to November. I finished the last sessions. About Easter time I stopped in to see the judge. We worked something out. I closed my retirement and quit my job. The judge let me cash in one of our smaller cash deposits, and I left. I never told Barb or the kids. I just packed a suitcase, called a cab, and disappeared.

My wedding ring? I was supposed to open the pool the end of May; that was one of my 'jobs'. The morning left I went out to the back yard, lifted the pool liner and dropped it in the water. Maybe they'd find it, maybe they won't. Hell, I figured now that I wouldn't be there to open it they probably wouldn't even bother with the pool. 

When I'd thrown Barb's ring I'd aimed at a neighbor's yard. Now I remembered how he mows his grass high. I figured by June her rings will be buried deep in the dirt. How appropriate.

Where was I going to go? Well I was too old to be a cowboy. But I always liked to fish and swim, and though my fingers weren't nearly so nimble I could still play the guitar, a little anyway.

Where would a guy like me go? I went to Key West, Florida; the last place anybody would look for someone like me. I started to let my hair grow out. I grew a big mustache; no little beard though, I remembered my dad talking Woody Hayes and the 'high speed blow jobs?' 

I got a job at a bar. They made me work for free at first, but I was reliable and they started to pay me. I played the guitar at night, that not so good, but most people were too drunk or too high to notice. I owned three pairs of pants; a pair of brown jeans, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of tan jeans. OK, I had some cut offs too. I wore flip flops and tennis shoes. I swore I'd never wear a button up shirt, a sport coat, or a tie again. I stuck with raggedy Tee shirts and loved it. 

Oh every now and then I thought about the kids and Barb. I'd miss them too, but I'd do some shooters and those thoughts would disappear. I found out there were other women. For an old guy I got pretty popular. I made new friends. I had 'gay' friends. Some of my prettiest girlfriends weren't anatomically girls. I didn't do the 'you know' though. But they accepted me, and I felt good.

I tried scuba diving. I went fishing. I helped out around some of the piers. Some of the men who had boats let me pitch in sometimes. I was good with numbers and helped some of them out at tax time. I was getting on with my life.

~~v~~

It was another Monday when my life got confusing...again.

I'd been emailing my sisters. I never Skyped, and I never told them were I was, at least I didn't think so. I thought I was incognito. Every now and then they gave me some news. I never asked; they volunteered. I found out, like my lawyer and friends said Barb's company found a reason and dumped after about a year. The kids were sort of in and out of school; well that was on them. 

Here's when the stupid thing happened. I guess someone found something out. One afternoon I was wiping down the bar and up walked this woman; brown hair, blue eyes, snow-white teeth. She said, "Buy a girl a drink?"

It was Barb; somehow she'd found me. She told me she'd hired a private investigator. I didn't believe it but didn't call her on it. 

Well I'd made a down payment on a little cottage on the cheap. Barb started following me around. She found out where I lived. 

Barb kept hanging around the bar. Some of the drunks...well...she was pretty...and then me. After a while the other men stopped hitting on her. 

She kept showing up at the places where I went at night. I played a lot of chess at one of taverns in the late afternoons. She always hung around me, touching and kissing on me. She looked and acted like the girl I'd met years before only now she was even prettier and more attentive. 

I knew what she was doing, and I let her. Don't really know why, but secretly I was delighted. I played it cool. We weren't married, and I planned to keep things that way. She moved in. We started playing house all over again. 

Here's a funny thing that happened. One night we were out. I got a little tipsy. When we got inside the house I went to pick her up to throw her on the bed like she said that 'boy' had done. She burst into tears and started crying no, no. I want you, not that! So I put her down and we made our 'old fashioned' kind of love.

What can I say? I'd always loved her. I found out she wanted 'different' too. She stopped using makeup. She wanted to do something 'she'd' dreamed of. She took up pottery. I'll say this; the girl didn't have a lick of talent, not a lick. Still she kept trying. She found a nice lady who owned a gift shop. Barb got her to put her 'junk' out on consignment. Of course, nobody bought the shit.

Well you know me. Some people never change. Barb's back and forth to the old lady, "Did anybody buy anything?"

So what did I do? I earned tips. Nobody knew how much. I started talking tourists into buying her worthless shit. She'd have a pot out for $19.95. I'd talk a tourist into buying it by giving him the cost of the pot plus another $20.00 after purchase. 

Barb came home all excited, "Look Ry! Somebody bought one of my pieces!"

I'd say something like, "Gee that's great Barb. I knew it would happen."

Now I'm buying the stuff regularly. I get them, put them in a bag, and throw them away. I don't think she'll ever know. I guess it just goes to show some people never really change. Hard to believe; I'm still taking care of her, and God I am so fucking happy!

The end...well I guess.

A Postscript:

Could there be a sequel or sequels to this story? I suppose there might be one or two unanswered questions; plot holes as it were.

For one I don't think we got to meet Barbara. She was an adulterous conniver who deliberately took advantage of her trusting husband. Sure we got the answers Ryan wanted, but did they ever really offer any insight into Barbara? Having written this I was left with the feeling she remained just as big an enigma at the end as when the story started. Did Barbara get the bum's rush here? Were there personal complications, emotional or psychological factors at work we know nothing about? Is she even entitled to a hearing?

A second thing that might bother some readers; it bothered me. That was the old judge. Do old retired judges ever get involved counseling people in their divorces? I know a few have; this judge's involvement with Ryan and Barbara is a fictionalized version of a real life event. The question I ask though is why? Why would some irascible octogenarian ever involve himself in a case like this? What would impel him to it? Would he even have the energy? We certainly saw he was no professional counselor; he seemed to be taking sides. What was that old coot doing anyway?

Again ask yourself the old judge had a granddaughter. This was western Maryland, a region only recently inundated by the 'modern urban-suburban world'. To be sure the signs of change are scattered all over western Maryland, the West Virginia panhandle, and western Pennsylvania, but it hasn't been that long ago when a well-respected old man like Judge Landis might have easily been able to 'meddle' in the affairs of a deeply troubled couple. We see a failure here, but it wasn't because he hadn't tried. Did he have a story?

*****

Alas, I hoped you enjoyed the story. I hope all of you leave a comment, you too Harry, maybe especially you. And of course vote, but please, make it on the merits of the story.

Thank you, 

Jedd Clampett