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You Can't Throw Everything Away Ch. 01

By: shuttlepilot



"For the more than ten years, you've heard me tell you I love you," he said, looking across the table at his wife. "Why are you acting this way?"

"You're assuming I believe everything you tell me," she answered back, a strange, faraway look in her eyes bringing yesterday's 'The View' into her mind.

"Thank you very much. What's wrong with me?" he asked, incredulously. "I don't believe this. I haven't done anything."

"Nothing's wrong with you; I mean, you look great for your... I just know what they said. I know you've done it or at least, thought about it."

"For your age, you were going to say. We're the same age, for God's sake." He was sick of her attitude. "How I look is all that matters? Nothing about what's in my heart? In my soul? What we've done together? And, who said, what? 

"What about Eileen?" she accused.

"What about Eileen? She's my secretary, you know that. What the hell..."

"I'm sorry. I just don't believe you. I just know you did it. Oprah's guest..." She regretted what she had said in the emotion of the moment. Why she did, she didn't know... she just knew it was true.

"I'm sure you get lots of sympathy from your friends about that, you all watching the show together," he said, sullenly. His stomach turned sour; his dinner started to rebel against his chest and he could feel his heart beat so fast he thought he was going to die.

"I don't tell my friends that, I'm telling you." Even she didn't believe it.

"And, why now? Why wait until now? It's been ten years... first, I'm cheating and then, I don't get you off fast enough?"

It had started simply enough. She was hard to buy gifts for. She was impossible to buy gifts for. She didn't like flowers, saying her father always brought them home when he did something wrong. 

Jewelry, that was always a closed subject, too, but tonight was supposed to be special. A dinner out, a pair of diamond earrings, things that would be expected, almost, for a tenth wedding anniversary and then, the feigned "I'm not in the mood, tonight, besides, you satisfy me in other ways, just not... besides," she said, "I know."

Even as she said it, she knew it was a mistake. His whole demeanor changed with each added word.

His shoulders slumped, his back bent with the weight of the world defeating him one last time. "What a great liar," he thought, "what a great liar she has been, all these years." Like his ego, his respect for her disappeared.

Why it would be such a surprise to her that he packed that night and left was beyond him. She had crushed him with just ten little words and something sacred finally broke in his heart. He put the shattered pieces of his life into his grandfather's old Army duffel bag along with some clothes and walked down the stairs and out into the cold night. 

"I'm not saying stuff to hurt you. Please, come back... you've become too sensitive... God, this is SO embarrassing... we can work something out that will work for both of us. Oprah says..."

She ran behind him, asking him to stop, to come back... begging him to come back... screaming at him to come back.

He kept walking, so totally destroyed... the idea of taking the car never occurred to him even as he stepped off the curb and was nearly hit by a FedEx truck coming down the off-ramp. He barely acknowledged the loud blast of the truck's horn and kept walking until he realized he had no idea where he was.

Ahead, there was a Denny's and then, the freeway. He walked in, by now dragging the duffel behind him, the heavy canvas making a scraping noise on the floor. 

"Coffee, please," he said as the disinterested waitress left a menu on the table. Deep within, he knew he had to eat, even if he had no hunger. His dinner had lain untouched. He ordered the Grand Slam and slathered syrup over the pancakes. 

He checked his cell phone. It was off. He pushed it 'on,' but it refused to light up. Without any enthusiasm, he paid the bill, went into the men's room, washed his hands and face and tossed the phone into the trashcan. With no way to recharge it, it was useless. Besides, he thought, who was he going to call, anyway? She had been his whole life and that life was dying, quickly, horribly, sadly. Next, she'd be quoting Maury Povich or something...

He shouldered the bag, walked across the parking lot and headed down the street toward the highway. It was either very, very late or very, very early. Either way, he was on his own for the first time since he married her.

To discover the last ten years were a farce was too much. His reverie was broken by the loud call of a truck horn.

"Hey, buddy, you looking for a ride? I saw you at Denny's. Where you going?"

"No where... any where... thanks."

"I'm heading to Indianapolis."

"Works for me, thanks. By the way, my name's Bill."

"Pete. Throw your stuff back there. Good thing there's no traffic."

Not much was said until they headed out of Riverside and up the grade toward Cajon Pass and Barstow.

"So, ever ride across the country in a big-rig?"

"No, actually, never had too much of a chance to do much, at all. Been bustin' my ass for the last ten for nothing, evidently."

Pete was silent, paying attention to the morning traffic that was starting to build. A long line of trucks were crawling up Cajon and they fell into line with the rest of them, each holding a set spacing. 

Off to the side, the bright yellow Union Pacific diesels were doing their own long dragging up toward the summit.

"Used to be 66..."

"What?"

"I said, this used to be old 66, that's all." Pete turned up the radio, seeking to bring an end to the uncomfortable silence.

"What did you think ...

I would say at this moment...

When I'm faced with the knowledge ...

That you just don't love me...

Did you think I would curse you...

Or say things to hurt you...

'cause you just don't love me no more"

"I'm sorry, it's just that I've got a lot on my mind."

"It's your wife, isn't it?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Your ring and your look..."

Bill looked down at his ring, and with a mix of anger and sadness twisted it off and threw it out the window onto the hot asphalt. For the first time since dinner, he felt a smile forming on his face. 

"What are you hauling?"

"Whoa! He talks! Furniture. Some poor bastard's moving his family from LA to Indy. He lost his job and figured things would be better there. God, I bet it's a bitch of a mistake."

"Well, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. Maybe, sometimes it's just better to throw out the old and look for something new. I don't know. Maybe, it'll work out all right." Bill looked out the window at the passing scenery, amazed at how much was out there that he had never seen.

"She told me I cheated."

"She told you she cheated?"

"No, she told me I, me, cheated."

"How the hell..."

"Goddamned Oprah put a bunch of shit into her head. Some book came out saying all men cheat and here I am."

"Sorry, man. That's just crazy. What are you going to do about it, besides taking off?"

"I don't know; I just needed to get away for a while. The lack of respect for me, throwing me in with... ah, fuck it."

Pete looked at Bill. "If I was going to Salt Lake, we'd stop at Baker for lunch. Everybody stops at Bun Boy sooner or later. We'll stop at Winslow tonight. You ever drive a truck?"

"No... I mean, nothing like this."

"Well, later, maybe I'll give you a turn, I need some sleep."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"It's my rig... it's not that hard, just don't change lanes and stay a steady speed... and, don't hit anything. Don't worry about it."

McDonald's was crowded but they were served soon enough. After lunch, Bill was seated behind the wheel and Pete took him through the gears. 

"When we get to Needles, wake me up. Just stay at 55 and don't attract attention."

Bill used the time to wonder what had happened to his life. How could his wife destroy him so easily? Did she always think that way about him? It was all a lie, wasn't it, their marriage? It must have been, if he could leave so easily. 

Deep in his subconscious, he must have known she didn't respect him. Telling him she knew he was cheating... after all, it was on 'Oprah' and 'The View', right there in the new book of the month. There was something lacking, on his part, on her part... what difference did it really make? It was over, otherwise, what was he doing in a truck heading east across the desert?

The miles across the Mojave rolled by as he kept the truck straight and constant. Most of the other trucks passed him, especially when he slowed down to take a better look at something in the desert. All the years he lived in California and he never had the chance to cross the desert. What kind of life was that? Even his parents never went anywhere.

The state line and Needles were rapidly approaching.

He nudged the sleeping man. "Hey, uh, Pete..."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, thanks. Signal, slow down and pull over."

"You'll have to show..."

"Just work the gears back down like I showed you."

As soon as they passed into Arizona, he again questioned what he was doing. It was insane, Bill thought, totally insane. And, yet, he wondered, was it any crazier than what his life had turned out to be? How could she do that to him? She might as well have taken a rusty, dull knife and cut it off.

*****

"What do you mean, he just left? How could he do that?"

"I'm a woman and I don't believe in being weak so I... He just up and left and hasn't called or anything." So much for being a woman, she thought. "What am I going to do, now?"

"I'll be over. Just wait, don't do anything."

It took almost a half hour before Jeanette knocked on the door. When JoAnne finally opened the door, Jeanette saw her friend was a physical and emotional disaster. They stood on the porch, looking down the road that Bill had taken just hours earlier.

"What did that bastard do? Didn't he say anything? This is so unlike him; I thought he worshipped the ground you walked on?"

The only thing all those questions accomplished was to make JoAnne burst into another round of tears. Jeanette took her friend by the arm and led her back into the house.

"Wasn't yesterday your anniversary? How could he do that to you on your anniversary?"

"It wasn't like that." JoAnne showed her the diamond earrings.

"Oh, my God, they're beautiful. I don't get it; what happened?"

"I... I told him..." She started to cry, again.

"What did you tell him? JoAnne, what did you do?"

"I was... I don't know... maybe, I was tired, I told him he wasn't doing it for me. Oprah said that we should tell the men that. I told him I knew he cheated, it was all in the book. I..."

"YOU WHAT?!!! Oh, Jesus, no wonder he took off. Where did he go?"

"I don't know. I called his cell but he doesn't answer. I called his parents and they haven't heard from him, either. They didn't even know anything was wrong. I didn't even know anything was wrong until I opened..."

"What did you tell them?"

"Just that I needed to talk to him but his cell wasn't working."

**********

They stopped at Flagstaff for diesel and continued east, finally spending the night in Winslow. Bill was amazed at the tall trees, wondering how he could have spent his entire life in Los Angeles and never seen anything past the basin and then he saw the vast flatness near Meteor Crater. The shattered limestone faded away into the distance like his love for his wife. He knew he was going to cry if he didn't think of something else.

He was going to pay for the room but Pete said it was included in the cost of the furniture move. "I hope you're an early riser. I want to get out of here as soon as possible before the road heats up."

"Thanks."

"You got any plans? I mean, I'm going to Indy and then, somewhere from there but you can jump off any time you want. There's not much between here and there unless you like living in the Southwest or the Midwest. After LA, everywhere else seems to just pale. Must be the weather... even Indy isn't that great but it beats the hell out of Albuquerque."

The next morning, after another quick stop at McDonalds, they were well on their way toward the rising sun on the 40. Bill was starting to get sick of fast food and missed his restaurants.

"I like the 70 better, across Colorado. The mountains are much prettier. You put much thinking to what I talked about last night?"

"I don't have a clue. What would you do if your wife told you that you just didn't do... probably never did it for her? that you've been cheating just because Oprah said so?"

"That's cold. Wow... sorry, man. I don't know. I don't know if taking off like this is the right answer, though. She have any idea where you're at?"

"Not any more than I do, so I'd say, 'no'. Let her guess. I don't care." He stared out the window at the cows he had smelled a mile earlier.

"No chance of fixing it? I mean, you know, working it out? She hasn't cheated on you, has she?"

"Hell, I don't know. What difference does it make, anyway? Whether she did for real, she probably was wishing she had all along. At least, I didn't have to walk in on her with some guy... all this, from a God damned TV show and some stupid-ass man-hating book." 

The thought of his wife with another man didn't make him angry, it just made him sad and he wondered how long it would be before she invited a lover into the house... that is, if she hadn't done it already all these years.

**********

Jeanette spent the night with her friend and was fixing breakfast the next morning. "So, honey, what do you want to do? I think you've really... you haven't cheated on him, have you?" There was just enough hesitation that Jeanette was uncomfortable. "Shit, you did, didn't you?"

"No, I thought about it, oh, God, how I've thought about it..." Both hands went to cover her face as the tears flowed. "I'm so ashamed."

"Why?" JoAnne was surprised at her friend's seeming lack of prejudice.

"Because... because I cheated on Bill, at least in my heart. I should have never married him, I was just fooling myself and I've ruined his life as well as mine. It was all in the book... I got it from the library. It was all in there. It said he was and I told him."

"Are you sure it's not just a... you know?"

"What difference does it make, now? He's gone, isn't he? God only knows when... if... he'll be back."

"Honey, I don't know but we'll work through this, together. Now, tell me what's really the problem with him..."

"I told you, it's all in the book." She went into the den. "Here," she said, giving "Your Man Is Cheating" to her friend.

"Oh, God," is all Jeanette could say.

***********

Across from the Motel 6 in Amarillo was a huge, painted sign pointing to Disneyland far to the west. The absurdity of it all made Bill laugh. Mickey had a long reach.

"C'mon, we've got to get going. I want to be near Little Rock sometime tonight. That's about usual for me. Ready to go see America?"

"You bet." Bill put on his new baseball cap and swung up into the cab. For a moment, just a moment, he wondered what his wife was doing and then realized that he no longer cared. It was strange, he thought, how quickly love turned to indifference. The opposite of love wasn't hate; it was 'who cares?'

They crossed the River the next morning into Memphis, stopped for lunch in Nashville and then took the 65 north toward Indy. They passed the Corvette Museum and the caves and even though he wanted to stop, he realized that it would have to wait for another time.

The two men met with three others hired to help unload the truck. There wasn't much, it seemed, once the family's bedroom furniture and books were unloaded. All that remained were the rocks they had collected over the years from across the country.

"Rocks! Amazing!"

"I think it was his last hold on what his life had been. Sometimes, you can't throw everything away."

The red-eye from Indy to LAX landed just before midnight and he took a cab back to the house. Slipping his key into the door, he quietly opened it, put the ancient duffel down by the couch and went back to sleep.

Jeanette woke him up.

"Bill... what are... when did you get back?"

"Last night, this morning, I don't know. What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. She's a wreck. How could you just leave, like that?"

"Didn't she tell you? How could I stay? I still had some pride left... not much, I'm afraid; I came back, but still..."

"Why did you come back?"

"Sometimes, you just can't throw everything away. What time is it?"

"A little after seven; you want some coffee? C'mon, I'll fix you some, you look like hell."

"What'd she tell you?"

"That was in confid..."

"I was there, remember? What can you tell me that I don't already know?"

"That you've been cheating on her. You don't do it for her, she said. It's all in the book. She's sorry; you have no idea how sorry she is."

"Great. So, she's sorry she said it. Doesn't make it untrue, how she feels. I just don't get it, though. Ten years, well, actually eleven and now she says something. If there was... is a problem, why didn't she say something and we could have done something about it. Cheating on her? That's insane. Stupid Goddamn book..."

"What are your plans? Are you going to stay?"

"I don't know, yet, other than I've got to wash my clothes and take a look around... see if I still have a job."

"You're back." JoAnne had walked into the kitchen so quietly that he had not heard her approach. He cringed, wondering if she was going to slap him or what.

"Where'd you go, Bill? You had me worried sick."

"Don't lie, Joannie, don't lie. After what you said, I don't know why you'd worry about me one way or the other."

"Let's step back a minute," said Jeanette, not wanting the situation to escalate. "Bill's back. Sit down, JoAnne and have some coffee."

Bill's wife slumped into the remaining chair and rested her head on her arms. She listlessly stirred in some sugar and stared at the coffee swirling around in the cup. "Bill..."

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me, too." Yes, he thought to himself, he was sorry... sorry for losing the last ten years of his life to a woman who had such a low opinion of him. Maybe, he considered, she had a low opinion of him in more ways than one and he was just a necessary paycheck. Why she didn't look for something better along the way was beyond him. Maybe, she had and he just didn't know it. What the hell was in that damned book, anyway?

Jeanette poked around the refrigerator and brought out some fresh fruit and Danish. "Here..." she said, sliding the two dishes into the middle of the table.

Bill took a Danish, feeding his hunger for the first time since boarding the plane in Indianapolis. He ate a second one, cherry this time.

"You want a divorce?" he asked, reaching for a third.

"What? I... I don't know. You?"

"I'm not sure. There's a lot to be considered besides just sex. I told you the other night, I never cheated but, no, you wouldn't believe me." He stopped chewing. "There's the house and the money in the bank and the cars."

"That's all? What about..."

"You tell me. I think you told me enough the other night. How could you not say something all this time and fool me like you did?"

She stared at the coffee cup and then took a pastry. "I wasn't trying to fool you. I mean, you're mostly all right in bed, just not all the time... and, everywhere I turn, the TV, the magazines, Oprah... they're all telling me there's more than just half the time. And, sometimes, you just take too long... and, always wanting to kiss me there... sometimes, I just wasn't in the mood for it. The book said that it was because you cheated... all men cheat."

Jeanette felt like a voyeur staring through a bedroom window but she could see no way to just get up and leave the table without stopping the conversation.


You Can't Throw Everything Away Ch. 01



Besides, she wondered, what was wrong with at least half the time? Every day wasn't the Fourth of July. And, taking too long? Where did that come from? She'd kill for a guy who wasn't done in just a minute or two. As far as cheating... she'd known Bill for years and if ever there was someone who loved his wife, it was him. The more she heard, the more she looked at her friend in a different light.

"Well," he said, "I've got some thinking to do. You do, too. Let's talk, this afternoon, when I come home from work, assuming I still have a job, that is."

**********

Bill went to work and spoke to his secretary. Somehow, she had covered for him the last five days, scheduling false meetings and clients into his appointment calendar and fielding phone calls.

"Thanks, Eileen, you're a God-send. I'm sorry I just..." He closed the door to his office. "I've had a bad time with Joanie... and we're probably going to get a divorce. I don't see any way around it. It's too bad but I can't continue with what I know, now."

"Oh, Bill, I'm so sorry. I'm just glad you're back. Your day is still open because of all the 'appointments' I made for you. I didn't know when you'd be back so I blocked out each day one at a time. I was going to call the cops if I didn't hear from you by Wednesday."

"Thanks. I knew I could count on you." More than my wife, he thought. Joanie said nothing about calling the police. "Anything else I should know?"

"Not really. Things have been pretty quiet, you know. Fortunately, there's been no real business the last few days so you're good. You know, I got divorced five years ago. It does go away, a little."

"What?"

"The hurt... it's not like she died although it might feel that way, right now."

"How do you know that it's not my fault?"

"Don't be silly. I've known you for almost four years, now. It could never be your fault. When you want to talk, you know where to find me."

He spent the rest of the morning reading the business section of the Times and thinking about his problem. Financially, he would take a hit if they divorced, he knew that. The laws just weren't fair anymore to men; well, he realized, they never were at all; just now, the women had the upper hand in the matter, acting like randy men and then killing their husbands in court. No wonder no one was getting married, anymore.

He still didn't know what to do when there was a knock on his door.

"I've booked us a table at Clearman's for lunch. You're buying."

The restaurant was a crazy pastiche of Alaskan Gold Rush décor, waitresses clad like French maids and the biggest baked potatoes anyone had ever eaten. He loved the red cabbage salad and cheese toast and usually that's all he had for lunch. He'd seen enough of his colleagues having a heart attack to stay away from a steady diet of steak and potatoes.

"Well?" she asked, after the waitress had taken their orders. "What are you going to do? And, where did you go, anyway?"

He looked at his secretary. "It was amazing. I got a ride with a trucker and we went all the way to Indianapolis. I saw the country from a big rig and even drove for a while."

"You drove?" She laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You... the corporate lawyer, driving an eighteen-wheeler. You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes, it was fantastic but I wouldn't want to do it every day like Pete, and eating at McDonald's every morning got old pretty quick."

"Pete? He was the driver?"

"Yes, he gave me the ride. You know, I've never been outside Los Angeles before. How that happened, I have no idea. I guess life got in the way of living. Did you know that New Mexico has a lot of basalt along the interstate?"

"Basalt?"

"Yes, the black rock, you know from volcanoes."

"Volcanoes... there're volcanoes in New Mexico? Next, you're going to tell me you went to see Elvis."

"Well..."

"You didn't!"

"We drove by, no time to stop, this time."

"This time..."

"I liked... no, I loved it, the traveling part, not the truck part. I'd like to do that, again, with someone that would actually like to do it with me."

"So, you and JoAnne?"

"Ah, how can I stay with her after what she told me? I... ah, screw it... let's talk about you. All my troubles and I haven't been a very good host."

"I'll let you buy me dessert, then, how's that? If you're going to get a divorce, you've got to think about some things. Not the legal stuff. I mean, I can tell you some things and you can find out the others for yourself although you really need a shark on your side but the emotional part, that's something that is going to hurt. She cheated on you, didn't she?"

"I don't know. Does it really matter, now? I've only a couple of choices, the way I look at it. I can divorce her and hope for the best. I can stay married until it becomes too much for one of us and then we divorce, so that's even worse than the first choice since all I've done is add extra time to get hurt. Or, I could stay with her and not care... what do they call that, 'an open marriage?'"

"Doesn't sound like much of a marriage, to me. Something like that is just a joke. Why be married at all? At least, you don't have any kids."

"What happened to you, if you don't mind me asking? I mean, I know you've been divorced. I just never wanted to pry, you know."

"Same old thing... he cheated... found someone younger, newer, you know. I left him right away."

"Just like her stupid, fucking book. No thought of forgiveness, then?"

"Are you kidding? Sex is the most intimate thing you can do with someone. It's so much more than just a physical exercise, it's..."

"It's love."

"Yes, it's love and I don't have that any more for her. It's the dishonesty all these years... and, now she made me feel unworthy... less than a man. This steady diet of TV crap has ruined both our lives."

"Maybe, she was trying to avoid hurting your feelings."

"Then, she would have never said anything, especially on our tenth anniversary or she would have found a way to teach me what she wanted. She should have known I'd never cheat on her. She was the world to me."

"What's her biggest complaint?"

"Aside from my 'cheating'? According to her friend, Jeanette, I take too long... the book says that means I'm being selfish. Who wrote this thing, anyway? I thought you girls were always complaining about the other way."

"Too long to do what? You're kidding? She's complaining about that?"

"I guess she gets bored, I don't know. I don't care."

"Oh, Bill, I'm so sorry... and, I find it hard to believe that she's complaining about something like that. That's not something that I..."

"Believe what you will. That's what Jeanette said. Joanie still won't admit to anything other than what she said that evening. It's too damned bad that she couldn't tell me this, years ago. We might have fixed that. The TV and book stuff... I have no idea how to deal with that. I just gave up."

"So, what ARE you going to do?"

"I don't know. I guess file for divorce. I can't live with her, anymore. Where's the trust we're supposed to have as husband and wife? Some people are going to say I'm weak but I don't see how. If I just accept what she's said, then what's next? Her finding a lover that somehow 'satisfies' her better than I have done? The book, she says, says it's OK; after all, if it's all right for me it's all right for her. I never did anything and it doesn't matter if she believes me now or not. I don't know if you were hoping for something different. I'm sorry." He looked down at his cabbage salad and took a mouthful. Sadly, he put his fork down. "It seems to have lost its taste. I'm sorry."

"It'll taste better, tomorrow and better than that the next day. Quit saying you're sorry. I told you I've been through this, before. Besides... I have no idea how you could fix what else she wants. Takes too long... she doesn't have a clue about making love."

"So, you have. I feel like we're going around and around in this conversation. Are you trying to save my marriage? I don't think you can. I don't know if I even would want to."

"I'm not so sure I want to, either." She took another bite of her cheese toast. "Look, let's make an appointment with my divorce lawyer. She's your shark. Your wife won't know what swallowed her."

"All right. You know, this tastes better, already."



You Can't Throw Everything Away Ch. 02



Shuttlepilot
all rights reserved, 2011

**********

Bill sat at his desk, aiming paperclips at his coffee cup by the door. The box was almost empty and he only made three. Horrible, he thought. How could he be that bad? If he picked up the whole box and threw it all at once, he'd probably have better odds.

It was time to face the situation, he knew. No more running away from his troubles. He thought about his trip. He didn't know who he was angrier at: his parents or himself. Growing up, one summer's vacation was a three-day stay in San Diego and the next a four-day trip to San Francisco. Occasionally, usually September, they'd travel north to Solvang. He remembered watching Carpinteria through the car's windows as they drove past on their way north. Not once did they ever stop at the beach town.

After he started college, all his time was spent studying or working at the grocery store. His parents insisted he work through college and by the time he found employment with his law firm, his billable hours were higher than anyone else's. No, he thought, never any time for anything. 

Bill actually thought when he made partner and married, he'd have time to spend with his wife, enjoying life... but, for some reason, a few years ago, she just seemed to lose interest in going anywhere with him. What had happened? Try as he might, he couldn't get her to explain other than her continual "it's in the book." Had it, he asked himself, become a marriage of convenience, for her? Why couldn't he figure her out? What the hell was in that book?

First, he had to answer something else bothering him, ever since he returned from Indianapolis. Bill picked up the phone. "Hello, Mom? Yes, it's me. How come we never went anywhere for vacation when I was growing up?"

He listened. "Yes, but, what about..."

He got up and walked to the corner window, looking for his Dodge. The Challenger, in its reserved spot, wore its shiny white paint with pride. Vanishing Point, he thought, didn't end too well, either. He wished his dad was still alive. He could have given him the car back as a present.

A knock, knock, knock on the door brought him back to the real world. He turned. "Yes?" Now what? he wondered.

Eileen, walking in, looked down at all the paper clips on the floor and frowned. "I've got you an appointment for tomorrow morning, eleven o'clock. It's the signing of the Krandell merger. Fortunately, they didn't call while you were gone."

"Thanks." At least, there wasn't anything worth doing, today. He threw another paperclip at the cup. He missed.

Bill struggled through the rest of the morning; with nothing to do, it just dragged. He read the Krandell papers three times. It was all there, he saw, leaving the new merged company in a stronger position than either alone.

Eileen knocked again. "There's a Jeanette Rector out here and she'd like to talk to you."

"Ah, Jeez," he groaned. His wife's best friend... what could she possibly want? Did JoAnne send her?

"All right, send her in."

"Will you want coffee or anything?" Eileen asked.

"No, I don't think she'll be here that long." He stood up and went to the doorway. "Good morning, Jeanette."

"Hello, Bill. Before you say anything, Joanie doesn't know I'm here and I'd like to keep it that way."

"OK, I think I can understand that. I'll be blunt. What do you want?"

Only a hint of red gave evidence to her discomfort. "You know why I'm here. May I sit down?"

"I suppose so but what can you possibly say that would make this better for me?"

Jeanette sat and shifted uneasily in her chair. "Do you still love her?"

"Coldly put, Jeanette, that's problematic. Whether I do or don't has nothing to do with her behavior. You've known me for how long? Almost eleven years, right? Have you ever known me to treat her anyway but the best way possible?"

"It's either a 'yes' or a 'no', Bill. You're just angry that your pride has been hurt."

"Oh, no... that's not it... well, maybe, yes, a little but that's not the biggest problem. She didn't dent my car. Is she still adamant that I've cheated on her? She still insists that I'm no good in bed, doesn't she? How'm I supposed to deal with something like this? on our anniversary, Jeanette... our anniversary. That's really cold."

"You haven't, have you?" she asked. "No, I didn't think so. As far as... the other thing, that can be fixed. It's just a matter of working together."

Bill tapped his fingers on the desktop. "Look, Jeanette. You're a nice person and I don't want to sound too harsh but here's the deal: I've never cheated on her... hell, for that matter, I never would, I wasn't brought up that way, that's all and for her to accuse me SO easily just because some idiot wrote a book and went on TV... shows no respect for me or for the marriage vows I made with her. That's a hurt that goes to my heart. Just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I don't have feelings. Why do women never believe men have feelings? Besides, how do I know that she..." He left the rest unsaid, looking for some clue from Jeanette's reaction but could seen nothing new.

"I'm telling you," he continued, "that she's wrong. What if it's just an excuse... what if she's found..."

He toyed with one of the few remaining paper clips. The notion to take a last shot across the room surfaced for a second but seemed silly considering everything that was happening.

"The whole bedroom issue, that's something else, entirely. She told me that I don't get her off fast enough. What the hell? I thought you women all wanted somebody who took their time to pleasure you and that you're always complaining about somebody who's too fast." He was exasperated. 

"I've got to admit that was strange to me, too," Jeanette responded. "I don't know what to tell you about that. She said it was in some book. If you still love her, though, you've got to work this out. When you took off she was a wreck. I had to stay with her the whole time."

"Jeanette, you're a good friend to her and I respect you for that but what you're asking me, right now, really hurts. How could she be a nervous wreck when she attacked me? I'm the hurt party, here. She's done all this to me. What am I guilty of? Loving her for ten, eleven years? For trying to make sure that she enjoys her time in bed? And, now I find out that none of it mattered?"

"I don't know," Jeanette said. "I don't think she expected you to leave. What are you going to do?"

"I truly don't know, either. It's like I don't even know who she is, after ten years. I've got a lot of thinking to do, about her and me and us. If nothing else, my little trip across the country has shown me there's more to the world than the four walls of this office and the drive home. 

"You know, he went out of his way to show me Memphis and Nashville? That was so cool." He unbent the paperclip and held it between his fingers.

"You know, I was blaming myself we never went anywhere anymore but then I realized that SHE never wanted to go anywhere. She just wants to stay home, watch TV and I take her out to dinner when she wants. It never really occurred to me because of the way I was raised. What kind of life is that? I've done everything I can except tie her up and drag her out of the house. Before that night, it was almost two months since we'd been out to dinner. She always said she was too tired or not in the mood... for anything."

"I'm just..." she started to say.

"What? Look... I'm hurting here... two different things, at once. I... we, could work out one or the other, but, both? Help me out, here. I'm at a loss as to what to do."

Jeanette stared at him. "Obviously, I need to talk to her, some more. Other than that, I'm as confused as you are, providing you're telling me the truth."

After she left, he opened up the 'net and googled for marriage counselors.

Dinner was at Denny's, again. It was strange; he could afford to go anywhere but Denny's blasé decor matched his mood. Bill picked at the turkey's stuffing, moving it around the plate and through the brownish gravy. He had no appetite and the heavy food sat in his stomach like a brick. He thought if he ate any more, he'd vomit. He threw a ten down on the table and walked out.

Strangely, she was in the kitchen, listening to the radio. He thought she'd be out looking for someone else, now that she made it clear she believed he was cheating and not to her liking in the bedroom. Bill put his coat away in the hall closet and went to the bathroom.

Later, he sat in the den and looked at his new issue of Model Railroader without really seeing anything. That was another thing that didn't seem to have worked out right. You have the time or the money or the space, he thought... but one of the three was always missing. Maybe, a trip north to the Cascades to watch trains would be fun. Could they still go... as a couple? He shook his head, wondering where he'd be in a month.

By that evening, Bill sadly realized he had to do something drastic, for no other reason than his own self-respect. Sleeping on the couch only hurt his back and what pride he had left. She had not even commented on his absence from their bedroom.

He started to move his clothes into the front bedroom, the one that would have been for their child... the child that had never come. "Children," she had said, "it was too early for children." She was still young and wanted to have fun but had fallen into just staying home... unless, she wasn't. It had never occurred to him that she might be fooling around but now, the idea was chilling. How else would this new dissatisfaction arise? Maybe, it was all a sham to divorce him. Offense is the best defense but he couldn't find it in his heart to accuse her of adultery.

Now, he was grateful there was at least one less broken heart to deal with. How do you explain to a small child that the mother is an idiot? or, a cheating woman that trashed your marriage?

"Can't we talk? I can forgive you," she asked, standing in the doorway. 

He couldn't believe it! She was still on that kick, again? He stood with his back to her, hoping that she would just leave the room. He wasn't prepared to address the issue with her, at least not yet. For a lawyer, he certainly was at a loss for words. 

As much as leaving had opened his eyes to the rest of the world, it probably wasn't the smartest idea he ever had. He should have stayed and faced the issue immediately.

He turned and waited for her to move. Grabbing more clothes from the closet, he returned to the front room and dumped them on his new bed. He looked at some of the shirts she had bought... shirts he'd never worn. He had already thrown several onto the floor. One, he particularly hated but had kept because she had bought it for his birthday. Who wears taupe, anyway? It just looked dirty and old... the way he felt about his marriage. He threw it toward the door.

"What's to say, JoAnne? What's to say? You accused me of the worst thing a man can do to his wife and expect me to just talk and apologize for something I haven't done and you'll forgive me?"

"But, you don't understand..." She stood there, tears down her face. "It was all in the book, everything. YOU'RE IN THE BOOK!"

What the hell was she talking about, he wondered, I'm in the book?

"What are you talking about? I'm in the book?"

"It's in chapter three. Successful, mid-30s, your time is your own..."

"That's IT!?"

"No, there's other things there. You got that old car and fixed it up."

"It's a Dodge Challenger and it was my dad's."

"Who cares? It's just an old car. And, how do I know where you're at for lunch? You could be anywhere."

"Look, JoAnne," he started to say. When he stopped calling her Joanie and started calling her JoAnne, he didn't know but it fit his dark mood quite well. "That's it? I restored my dad's old muscle car and go out to eat lunch? Is this how little respect you have for me? Just because some dumb bitch goes on television? Jesus Christ, JoAnne!"

Frustrated, he looked at his wife. "Look, you want to go to counseling with me? Something's obviously gotten you angry with me; I don't know why or what to do about it. Where's that book, anyway? Why don't you let me read it? At least, I can see what you're talking about."

"Jeanette has it. She came over this afternoon and asked for it."

Wow! he thought. Jeanette really wanted to help! I'll have to thank her, somehow. "Well, when she's finished, then."

"Are you coming back to our room?"

He looked at his wife, hoping her face would indicate how she was really feeling. Her face was sad and angry... could that be possible? Who had he married? Had he been wrong all these years or was she just tired of him? That, as worrisome as it was, was entirely possible. Maybe, he thought, I really DON'T do it for her, anymore.

"You haven't answered my question," he finally said.

"What?" She struck a scolding pose as she stood in the doorway.

"Do you want to go to counseling and try and save this marriage? As much as I love you, I don't see any future without it."

"Can't we work it out on our own?"

"JoAnne, you've told me you don't believe me, you don't trust me. You've told me that some idiot's book holds more weight than what we've had. You've told me that I'm not that good in bed. That one, I really need to have explained to me, I really do. I have NO idea what you're talking about but I'm willing to admit you might be right. You have to help me out with that one."

"But..."

"No 'buts', JoAnne. You think about it and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Bill laid on the bed, reading one of his wife's books, Lemon Meringue Pie Murder by JoAnne Fluke. The woman in the story, he didn't like very much. She was stringing two men along, with no plans of marrying either one anytime soon. In its own way, that was cheating. 

The same thing was happening in Janet Evanovich's books. There, the sex was more blatant as that woman bounced between the sheets with a cop and a bounty hunter. 

What was it with these women always wanting the 'bad boy'? Then, they complain they're in trouble when he takes off. You knew I was a snake when you picked me up, right?

Was that what it was, today? A strong woman character acting like a slut? No wonder his wife was so screwed up. It didn't help him, though. What kind of defense would that be?

He tried building a model but was making too many mistakes and stopped.

That night, for the first time in years, Bill knelt down and prayed for guidance. He admitted his church attendance had been sketchy and God seemed to have abandoned him. He found better advice from Pete the trucker than from any priest he ever talked to. How can a man who had never had any relationship give advice about marriage?

His Bacardi-helped dreams were filled with driving down the interstates and what Pete had said... "Sometimes, you can't throw everything away." Well, sometimes, you have to. He was so confused; even if they stayed together, he knew it would never be the same. He tossed on the guest bed, knocking the blankets to the floor.

**********

Bill finally fell asleep sometime after 3, woke with his rum-induced headache with the 6 AM alarm and slowly left at 7. After another half-eaten Grand Slam, he walked into his office at 9 and booted up his computer. 

Eileen stood in the doorway. "Your appointment is asking to be moved forward to 10."

"Thank you. I'll see you in a half-hour and we can go over the file, one last time."

He pulled up the file and started to read it through, once again. It seemed simple enough: two smaller companies merging to stay competitive in the changing economy. Just like a marriage, he thought. He stopped reading. His face reddened and felt hot. 

Damn her! How could she do that? She had no trust in him because of a Goddamned TV show. How could he deal with that? It was almost beyond help. Why couldn't he understand what to do? It had seemed so obvious before, in the truck.

He was surprised that he still was so angry. He thought he had gotten over it while riding across the country but evidently, not.

The meeting went as well as hoped. Satisfaction and signatures and champagne all around, the price of business... After they left, he asked Eileen out to lunch to celebrate. 

"Not only do we have that in the bag," he said as he opened the old car's door, "but we've got their business here on out."

"You've worked hard for this, Bill."

"No, don't say that. I know full well that without you, I could have done nothing."

"Now, you're just being funny... but, thank you."

"Red Lobster?"

"Sure, why not?"

"How long did it take?"

"What?"

"The car... how long did it take for the restoration?"

"Six months. They took it all the way down to the metal. They had to send away to San Jose for the window glass."

"It's beautiful."

"Thanks." Amazing, he thought. JoAnne never even wanted to ride in the car, saying she only wanted her Beemer.

"Wood-grilled shrimp... I'd like it with the rice pilaf. Just water, please," she ordered.

"Fish and chips, butter with the biscuits, extra glass of ice with the tea."

Lunch was filled with light banter, occasionally skirting some work issue or other but mostly about the latest movie, other restaurants... it hurt him to realize that it had been forever since he had taken his wife to see a film. She was all interested and then, when the time came, changed her mind. It was frustrating for him, like she was playing him. Several interesting movies went by without seeing them. He had really, really wanted to see "Cowboys and Aliens," but it had gone by, too. She had wanted to see "Fright Night" and then, nothing. Did she go by herself? or was there something else taking place? Did she go with someone else? The thought was unsettling. He had no clue.

Did this change in attitude, he wondered, coincide with this book she kept referring to? What was in that damn book?

JoAnne had been watching Entertainment Tonight and their big piece about "Battleship," another bad guy alien movie. This one, he discovered, wasn't going to open until 2012, so by then, he probably was going to be able to see it.

"You like," he asked, "space monster movies?"

"You asking me out?"

"There's this new movie coming out next..."

"Battleship!" Yes, I'd like to see that, very much." She looked at him, determined to go see paint dry if that was what he wanted to do. His wife was a moron, doing what she had done, although she thought Bill's response WAS a little over the top. 

Eileen looked at her life since her own divorce... close to 40 years old, divorced for five years, reasonably attractive but still going home each night to her stupid, selfish cat. She could feel the sand draining from the hourglass of her life.

"It's a date, then. I'll mark it down on my calendar," she quickly said, before he could change his mind.

"Me, too."

There was a nervous silence.

"What about those Dodgers?" he finally asked.

"Huh?"

He laughed. She smiled. Maybe, she thought, this situation was going to be all right.

It was more than two hours later when they returned and closed the office. "You know," he joked, "if we don't get more traffic through here, we might as well close down a day or two a week."

"There's other things to do..." she ventured.

That night, he went to a movie. It was stupid. If the apes are running around, kill them. How many apes could there be, anyway? Weren't they on some endangered list? He threw popcorn at the screen.

He asked JoAnne, once again, about going to counseling but she still had no answer. "Look," he said, "if we don't try and work this out, there's no hope. Is that what you want? I can't believe that's what you want. Just say something so I'm not beating my head against the wall, here, will you?"




You Can't Throw Everything Away Ch. 02



"All right," she said, quietly. "I'll go."

Another night in an empty bed... it felt wrong, after so many years. He wanted another drink but rum wasn't the answer to his problems. He didn't drink. He could easily become an alcoholic like his uncle and then be useless to himself and anyone who might depend on him, like JoAnne... or, even Eileen, he guessed.

He reached for his phone. "Mom, I need some advice

After speaking to his mother, Bill's mind rolled through his problems and different scenarios to deal with it. JoAnne's agreeing to see a counselor at least paved the way to some resolution, good... or, bad. 

**********

The next morning, he finally woke with a smile and went to the office in a much brighter mood. 

"Good morning, Eileen. How was your night?"

"Fine, thank you," she said, still surprised when she ended up going home... alone.

"Whatever you do, don't go see the ape movie. It's horrible."

"Uh, yeah, sure." She shifted on her feet. "There's a new client scheduled at nine-thirty."

"Good. We need to drum up more business, somehow." Especially now, he thought, especially now. "Let's see what we can do."

He took their proposal to the other partners and the afternoon was occupied with the back-and-forth he had come to expect every time something different was brought up.

Either it was his conversation with his mother or the residual anger toward his wife but he resigned, dissolving his part of the partnership. As he approached his office for the last time, he found her in the hallway, already holding two boxes with all their things.

"So, where do we go, now?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't really thinking. You don't have to quit, too."

"We could hear it out here. They're stupid." As they walked to the elevator, Eileen put her head down and whispered, "I've got copies of all your emails and client accounts. We can start calling them, tomorrow."

"Well, then, I guess dinner, tonight and we can plan what we're going to do?"

"Of course... let's get out of here before they think of it."

He set his glass down. "First thing, we've got to see a real estate agent to find a decent office lease. I'd like to move closer to the South Bay. Century City is WAY too expensive for us, now. While we're doing that, we can put together some kind of letter to everyone explaining we're setting up a new office in case they want to come with us."

He looked at his ribs. They tasted as good as they looked.

"Thanks for taking me here," she said. "I've never been to Lucille's before."

"You know, if we can find something close enough, we could eat here whenever we wanted. There're plenty of restaurants here."

"There's got to be plenty of office space available, right now. I've already picked out a few brokers we can call," she ventured.

"Great. Tell you what. You pick whoever you like and we'll meet there tomorrow, say... about ten, how's that?"

"Wonderful... you going to eat that last rib?"

**********

Two days later, Bill and JoAnne sat in Dr. Donna Hadley's office for their first counseling session.

"Thank you for seeing us, Doctor. As you can imagine, we've some serious issues to get through," Bill said. He specifically wanted a woman counselor.

"You're welcome. Hopefully, I'll be a good fit for your needs and you'll both feel comfortable with me... and, each other. These initial sessions are very important and if you're not comfortable, I'll help you find someone else."

Doctor Hadley lifted her coffee cup and took a sip. "You're going to be sharing with me your most personal and intimate details of your life, your marriage. But, this is the most important opportunity to 'restart' your marriage." She set her cup down and patted her lips with a napkin.

"You've been married ten years. That's wonderful, considering the number of divorces occurring today. Let's have some, well, let's call them 'ground rules,' shall we? Respect your partner and don't, well, try not to interrupt and we'll do the best we can."

They both nodded their heads in agreement although he thought JoAnne was hesitant. It had to be his imagination, he thought, otherwise, what was the point?

"Well, let's start. Trust, love and commitment are the foundation for a happy, loving and successful marriage. JoAnne, why don't you go first? Why are we here, today?"

There was no hesitation. "He's cheated on me."

"And, you know this because?"

"It's in the book." JoAnne handed the book over to Doctor Hadley who looked at the cover and set it down on the table. "Chapter three..." JoAnne said, as if repeating it made it truer.

"All right, let's start with that, since it seems to be the biggest problem you are experiencing. When did you make this discovery?"

Bill felt his heart beating harder. As much as he was curious to discover what his wife had to say, hearing it put so bluntly was unsettling, almost as if he had indeed cheated.

"One day, about three years ago, I was watching The View, you know, on television and they had this author on who had just written a book about how to tell if your husband was cheating on you."

JoAnne looked at Bill, her face starting to redden in anger. "I saw my... I saw Bill on every page in chapter three. So, I started taking notes and comparing what he was doing with what was in the book."

While he was listening, Bill's hands had scrunched up his pants' cloth until it hurt. He stopped when he saw the doctor watching him.

"Well, let's go through these, shall we?" asked the doctor.

Bill thought it was interesting that she hadn't asked him if it was true or not. On the phone, he had sworn he was innocent and maybe, he believed, she had accepted that. After all, HE was the one asking for counseling.

"Uh, yes, thank you," JoAnne said. She glared at Bill and he turned away rather than stare back. "The book said that if he's gone a lot or works late, he's cheating. Ever since he got that car, he goes to car shows."

"Your husband is a lawyer. Don't you feel it reasonable that he would work late at times?"

"Once in a while, sure but he stays late, probably once or twice a week and I don't see him until seven or so."

"Seven o'clock... in the evening. You wait dinner for him?"

"No, I leave it in the fridge and he can microwave it."

"Do you sit with him while he eats?"

"Oh, no, that's when Entertainment Tonight comes on."

"I see," Hadley said, writing it down on her pad.

"So, when he came home, late, as you say, he'd have to eat alone in the kitchen."

"Well, yes, of course. I'm in the den with the TV."

"Did you ever go with him to these car shows you mentioned?"

"Not after the first one. A bunch of old cars and walking around and around looking at them; people should grow up. They're just a bunch of old cars, that's all."

Hadley wrote some more, a sour look on her face even though she tried to remain impassive.

"So, you only went the one time?"

"Yes... it was boring."

"All right. What else did you learn from the book?"

"The way he acted indicated he was being unfaithful," JoAnne said, harshly.

"In what way?"

"He was being too nice and the book said that meant he was feeling guilty about what he was doing. He was trying to cover up what he was doing... trying to trick me."

Hadley set her notebook down and took another sip of her coffee. She could tell it was going to be a long morning. Fortunately, after speaking to Bill over the phone, she had blocked out three hours, just in case.

"What was he doing, specifically? I mean, you said he was being too nice."

"He wanted to go out to eat, a lot... and, he bought me a diamond bracelet for no reason. It wasn't Valentine's Day or my birthday or anything."

"Please, go on."

"He bought some new suits and started going to Sport Clips for haircuts."

"And, when did this happen?" The doctor glanced at Bill.

"Right after he made partner. What was wrong with his old suits? Why did he need to change his appearance? Then, he started jogging... when he wasn't working on the car."

"He did this, alone?"

"I didn't want to run around. We could have gone to the mall."

"OK, why don't we take a little break. Would you like some cookies?"

Bill looked grateful; he was hungry but didn't know how to say anything without looking foolish. "Yes, thank you." He wanted... he needed the sugar rush.

"Good," said the doctor as she stood up and walked out of her office. This, she thought, was going to be a very difficult case. If he wasn't cheating, he had a great reason to.

"Good, let's get started, again. Mrs. Hiquet, you were saying?"

"He takes too long when we're having sex."

"Yes, your husband mentioned that. Why don't we leave that until later." If, she thought, there is a later...

"All right."

"Did he do anything like change his email password or have some new privacy issues?"

"He's got an office computer. I don't know what he's doing there. He could be doing anything. And, he talks about his secretary, now and then. What about that? I don't know what goes on in that office. And, now he tells me he's quit the partnership and is going to set up his own office. Yeah, I know what that means. He can just have more time with Eileen without anyone walking in."

Doctor Hadley looked at her notes. There was no clear-cut answer to everything JoAnne had said. If she wasn't so convinced that Bill was innocent, she'd wonder about some of his actions, too. But, she knew, she was here to moderate the couple's discussion, hopefully guiding it to a peaceful and truthful resolution.

"Well, JoAnne, you've certainly outlined your concerns about his actions. Let's take another break, here. I know I need one." She looked at Bill, wondering what he was thinking. Well, she thought, we'll find out soon enough.

"All right..." Doctor Hadley said, "let's hear from Bill about your suspicions. Bill?"

"Where do you want to start? Honestly, I've forgotten what was the first thing she brought up."

Hadley checked her notes. "It had to do with how much time you spend with your car, you know, going to car shows and such."

"My car? It was my dad's car, that's why I have it. I've asked her to come with me, over and over. She only went the first time and complained the whole time."

"Well, let's set aside the car issue for a moment. JoAnne is worried that you might be doing something else... instead of the car show?"

Bill tried to control his frustration. "How do you prove a negative? I haven't done anything. She could come with me any time she wanted. I've nothing to hide."

JoAnne looked at him. "Yes, you've said that but what about all the other things?"

"Working late? Of course, I've got to work late, now and then. It's the nature of the job. If I was a doctor, would you say the same thing if I had an operation that took longer than I thought? Sometimes, contract negotiations take longer than expected. Look at what we're doing, right here and now. This could last forever, if we keep arguing about it. How is that any different?"

"I'm not arguing. You haven't even begun to see me argue," JoAnne almost shouted.

"Whoa! Let's calm down, a little," Hadley interjected. "JoAnne, we agreed to respect each other. Please, don't shout. It accomplishes nothing. Let's take another break."

"JoAnne? You said that when he comes home late for dinner, you have it in the refrigerator, waiting, but you don't eat with him. Is it so important to watch TV instead of eating with him?"

"He knows I like that show. He could bring the food into the den."

"Bill, what do you say about that? Could you eat in the den?"

"I suppose so. It never occurred to me. I mean, it's dinner and I like to relax when I'm having dinner and talk to my wife and that show... she doesn't like me talking when it's on and I've got to comment. I can't help it, the people on the show aren't important at all, they just help sell things. Why the hell should we care about some eighteen year old girl who sleeps around? She's trash."

He shifted on his seat and reached for a cookie. Oatmeal raisin... he slowly chewed, using the time to get his thoughts together.

"All right, maybe I could eat in the den and be quiet but really, what's that got to do with anything... about me cheating?"

JoAnne looked piqued. "It's not just the one thing," she said, "it's all of it together. I told you, you're chapter three."

"Are you willing to accept that I've not cheated on you? I said, already, you can't prove a negative. I can't prove I haven't cheated. How can I? Can you prove that I have? No, you know the answer to that. It's 'no'."

He took another cookie and angrily bit into it; crumbs rained down on the floor.

"I don't know," she said. "Will you stop eating cookies? This is important."

He defiantly took another one. 

Doctor Hadley coughed, getting their attention. "This is quite different from my usual counseling sessions. Mostly, someone has indeed cheated and I try to bring them past that, sometimes they stay together, sometimes they don't. This is different. Bill says he hasn't cheated on you but you insist that he has because of this book. 

"JoAnne, you're going to have to decide whether you're going to believe your husband of ten years or what you've read in this book. Until you make that decision, we're at an impasse and can't even begin to address your other problem."

Hadley stood up. "Why don't we stop here, today and meet again Friday. You both should think about what has been said, here and we'll talk then."

JoAnne walked out. 

Bill stayed to thank the doctor for her help. "I don't know if this is going to work, Doctor, I really don't. She doesn't believe me and won't, no matter what I say or do. I know her. Once she gets something in her head, it's almost impossible to change her mind. Maybe, this wasn't such a good idea, after all."

"Let's talk again, Friday. At least, you can say you tried your best to save your marriage."

"All right, I'll see you Friday."

That night, he read more of the murder mystery until he angrily threw the book across the bed. What to do? he wondered, what to do? He went into the den and picked up his train magazine. Opening it, he found what he was looking for and went onto the 'net to the website. By the time he was finished, it was after eleven o'clock and he finally went to sleep.



You Can't Throw Everything Away Ch. 03



Eileen put the papers on the table. "This is a one-year lease for the office space and this one covers the furniture rental and this one takes care of the phone and DSL for your internet. I think that about covers it unless you can think of anything else."

Bill looked at Eileen. "No, I think you've covered everything. How soon will this all be set up?"

"Friday... I know you'll be busy but don't worry, I'll take care of everything."

"Great. What would you like for dessert? I hear the blueberry sour-cream pie is fantastic."

JoAnne looked one last time into the wall mirror, ran her hand across her dark hair and walked outside to her light blue Camry. Soon, she would be traveling down Hawthorne Blvd toward the Torrance Marriott and Philip.

Her three-year affair had filled her early afternoons with lusty excitement. As she drove into the parking structure, she smiled. With her husband's office in Century City, she found the freedom to explore aspects of her personality she didn't know she had before watching that cable TV show one morning about married women and their boyfriends.

She had been amazed that someone would admit to doing that but then she met her old boyfriend at the mall. At first, she and Philip just met at the Cinnabon for a treat and talk about friends from college. That soon became lunch once or twice a week. One day, lunch at the Marriott became room service and so much more.

That first time, Philip had slipped his arm around her waist, taking her tightly against him. They danced in place to music unheard. She hardly knew at what point all movement stopped. Their bodies collided, the curve of her breasts pressing hard against his chest. The world stopped for her as their lips met in a kiss that tasted of excitement and lust. JoAnne's lips parted in a soft sigh that allowed his tongue to invade her, searching desperately for permission to continue.

She shivered from his touch, knowing there was no going back and tightened her own arms around his neck, kissing him eagerly. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

"Are you really sure about this?" he asked, already taking her clothes off.

She stopped him by pressing his hand to his mouth. "Philip, you talk too much. Make me feel."

Philip breathed a kiss against her fingertips. She could see the hunger in his eyes, but the hesitation as well. "When I asked you..."

"Then, you don't want to make love to me?" She drifted her fingers over his now bare chest.

"Oh, God, yes... but, I don't want you to have any regrets, later. What about your husband?" He couldn't bring himself to mention Bill's name.

She silenced his question by pulling him down to kiss her, again. She never dreamed he would be the one who hesitated.

Philip resisted for just a moment, then with a low groan returned her embrace with an equal hunger, the warm weight of his body pinning her to the sheets. She could feel the heat pulsing between them, the hardness of his arousal pushing her faster into her betrayal of her marriage vows. He kissed her throat, his hand entwining with hers above their heads as he felt himself gather heat.

"I'm not wearing my ring. I want to be yours... yours, alone."

Philip's mouth moved down to taste her throat. Her hands braced against his shoulders as she arched her back, stifling a soft sigh of pleasure as his lips sought the curve of her breast. She felt the heat of his mouth as his tongue caressed her nipple, sending a current of desire racing through her heart.

A kiss? It was more than just a kiss. The intimate feel of his mouth against her breast made her hot, flushed, almost unconscious... and, for one insane moment, she experienced a mad urge to leave Bill and stay with Philip, forever. That kiss sealed the strange union they had made.

The longer her affair continued, the less respect she had for Bill. If he was a real man, she thought, he would have discovered her transgressions.

Bill left Marie Callender's and drove to Bank of America. After emptying their accounts and taking a tax hit on his retirement, he took the most of the money in a cashier's check, leaving thirty thousand for a new account to cover any expenses that might arise. Then, he cancelled the house VISA card. 

Finally, he drove to Chase, opened an account for the thirty and put the other check into a new safety deposit box. Even if they didn't divorce over this problem, he had lost all trust in his wife. It was just better to say 'goodbye' and try to move on. 

In the car, he found himself crying for what should have been. She had been everything to him and he couldn't understand how she could be so easily swayed by a TV show and a couple of books. Finally, brushing away the tears, he turned on the radio and just sat there. 

It started to rain.

"Shit!" he said as he leaned over to roll up the passenger side window. Time to get a real car, he realized. The Dodge was a beautiful car but to drive a quarter-million dollar car around no longer seemed very intelligent. He started the car, listening to the Hemi rumble. Damn her, he cursed. None of this would have happened if she didn't watch all that stupid daytime television.

Going north on Hawthorne Boulevard, he soon came to Rosecrans, turned toward the beach and eventually ended up at the Chevy dealership on Sepulveda. An hour later, after turning down several offers on the Challenger, he ordered a dark red Malibu and arranged for pick-up the following Monday. He felt he was closing one chapter of his life and opening a new one... one that didn't include his wife.

While Bill was closing the purchase of his new car, his wayward wife was once again with her lover at the Torrance hotel. 

"Ah, Jesus, JoAnne, do it again." Philip squirmed on the bed, his hands covering his eyes.

JoAnne moved across the hotel bed and took Philip into her mouth. Wrapping her lips around it, she slowly took him into her mouth, scraping lightly with her teeth as her tongue did a dance. 

"Oh, damn, that's good." After that, Philip was speechless as JoAnne attempted to swallow him down her throat. She could feel the swell as he tensed and then erupted into her mouth. Rapid breathing was the only sound in the room as she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm.

Bill's cheating wife rolled over onto her back and spread her legs but Philip was still softly limp. "Damn it," she said, quietly and began to slowly stroke him.

"I can't believe that your husband is SO stupid. Telling him HE was cheating is classic."

"I know. I almost feel bad about it. When I'm done with him, he'll be eating out of my hand and we can spend more time together. He's made it clear he doesn't want a divorce. Maybe, I should go to the Friday session."

"He's never asked to see the book?"

"Sure, he did but I told him a friend has it and I'll tell him it's gone; she'll 'conveniently' lose it. You know there is NO book. For a lawyer, he sure... you know, though... I think I made a mistake telling him he wasn't a good lover. I hope I didn't go too far."

"God, I hope not," Philip said. "You attack a man's ability to make love..."

That afternoon, as Eileen continued to call their former clients to explain what had happened, Bill despondently headed home. Walking in, he called for his wife but there was no answer. Going to his new bedroom, he got down on his hands and knees and looked for the pair of slippers he had kicked beneath the bed earlier in the day.

"Gotcha," he said, pulling them out. He looked at them, tired but still comfortable. Is this, he wondered, what our marriage had been? It's certainly wasn't comfortable any more.

In the kitchen, he pulled out a Coors and set the beer down on the table. Then, he looked at the can, confused. Where did this come from? He never bought beer and hardly ever drank. What's going on?

Bill stared at the can as its icy condensation starting to drip onto the table. He got up and opened the refrigerator door again and peered in. There were two more cans on the shelf. He collected all three, took them over to the sink and opening them, one by one, he poured the cold foaming liquid down the drain.

He threw the empty cans into the trash, not even bothering to recycle them. Somehow, it seemed more appropriate to just get rid of them.

Later that afternoon, JoAnne finally returned. She put her purse and keys down near the door and walked into the kitchen, stopping for a moment as she gazed into the trash can there. He thought she was going to say something but after a moment's hesitation, she continued into the bedroom.

Bill went into the front bedroom, took off his slippers and lay down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, wondering what had happened to his life. He was cried out and wouldn't be doing that, anymore.

Several hours later, he went into the kitchen and made himself a turkey sandwich. Thanks to Oscar Meyer, it was Thanksgiving Friday every day, if he wanted it. He took it into the den and turned on the television to watch "Family Guy". He loved Stewie; the baby's murderous attitude toward his mother matched his toward JoAnne more than any other time. When it was over, he checked the schedule but found nothing worth watching other than a "House" re-run and went to bed.

He wasted another hour trying to sleep before he got his railroad magazine and looked at the pictures, again. Some months were good and there were many things worth looking at; some months were, as they used to say, slim pickin's. This was one of those months. The magazine fell to the floor.

The next morning, he left a note reminding JoAnne about Friday's counseling session and left.

Bill walked into Carrow's and went to the back corner booth. "Good morning, Eileen. How are you, today?" He looked at his secretary. The last few days, she had been dressing much nicer and he knew why. As much as he liked her, he wasn't in the mood. Still, he thought...

"I'll be better when we have our own office. As much fun as working out of restaurants may be, it's getting old." Last night, she had bought a new outfit just for him and was hoping he noticed. She wished he'd look at her, that way.

"I've bought a new car and I'll need a ride Monday to pick it up." He picked up his coffee and took a sip. She does, he had to admit, look good. Is that a new dress? It had to be...

"No problem, Bill. Your house?" Maybe, she hoped, we'll leave a little later. Maybe he WILL leave his wife and I'll pick up the pieces.

"Yes, please. How many more calls do you have to make? I'll be glad when this uncertainty is over." Especially, he thought, in my life.

Me, too, she thought, me, too. "Only seven."

"That's great. When we're done with that, why don't you take the rest of the week off and I'll see you Monday morning? Say, about nine or so."

"Gee, thanks."

"Eileen?"

"Yes?"

"That's a very nice dress. You look very pretty this morning."

"Thank you." As much as she had hoped for his reaction, she still blushed at his compliment but wished there was more. Maybe, there would be.

That afternoon, he phoned a garage door installer. "Yes, I want to make the place completely locked. Can you send someone over today?"

He listened.

"I'll pay extra to have it done, tonight. Yourself? Good. I'll see you around six."

He touched the disconnect button and then paged through his cell's address book. Here it is, he thought.

"Papa John's... can I take your order, please?"

"Yes, medium pepperoni, extra cheese..."

"Your name?"

"Hiquet..." Bill gave his phone number.

"Yes, sir. It'll be about 30 minutes. Is that all right?"

"Yes, but wait a minute, use this card number..."

He was just finishing his pizza when the garage installer arrived. He walked out the back door to see the man looking at the Challenger.

"Nice car," the man said.

"Thanks. I want to be able to lock this place up so no one can open the door except me."

"That's not hard, just a couple of padlock hasps here and here and then you pull the cord there and it detaches the automatic opener from the door. You know, you could have done this yourself."

"I've got too much on my mind and I wanted it done right. Thanks for coming out."

"That's OK, it's your money. This'll take no time at all."

Thursday evening was another lost night. She sat in the den, watching Entertainment Tonight. Bill walked in and turned the set off. He had to give her every chance she deserved as his wife. "JoAnne, can't we talk about this, please? Do you REALLY think I've cheated on you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, watching her words carefully. She made sure not to bring up what she had said about his bedroom skills. "I know what I know. Why don't YOU just admit it and we can go from there?" The more she spoke, the more she realized she had made a grave error ever saying anything. Her thought-out plan didn't seem so well thought-out, anymore.

Bill was so angry he threw the remote on the floor and smashed it beneath his heel. "Admit this, JoAnne," he said and left the den.

Friday afternoon took forever to arrive.

The marriage counselor looked at Bill. "Even if you can convince your wife you're innocent, your marriage will never be the way it was. It will be hard to forgive her, if not impossible. I also don't know if she's just giving 'lip-service' to accepting your innocence and deep-down, still not trusting you."

Bill was very uncomfortable. He had thought the counselor would give him advice on how to save his marriage; instead, she seemed bent on telling him it was over.

"You know," she continued, "if this really had been an affair, it would be easier to resolve. You could show regret and put some effort into showing you still love her. As it is..."

She shuffled some papers on her desk. "Well, Mr. Hiquet, it looks like your wife is a 'no-show.' Are you going to continue?"

"No, there's no point. I just came today to stress that I've never done anything but, you know... I don't care, anymore. Thank you for your time."

He handed her his new business card. "You can reach me, here, if you need to. You have my cell number. Thank you."

As he drove down the street, JoAnne rushed into the counselor's office. "I'm sorry I'm lay... he's gone, isn't he? I forgot. Can you call him back?"

"Please, sit down, Mrs. Hiquet. We need to talk."

He sat in the Challenger and called the divorce lawyer. "Yes, go ahead and file the papers... Monday?... All right, that's fine... yes, thank you, I appreciate that... I know but what can I do? Goodbye."

As much as he hated to admit it, a tremendous weight lifted from his heart, the pain in his head disappeared and he felt better. It was strange... ten years of his life were coming to an end and he felt good. When did I stop loving her? he asked himself. Have I stopped loving her? No, he admitted. I still love her, I just can't continue like this.

Bill drove home to an empty house.

He left.

His cell rang. "Hello, Bill? It's Jeanette. Listen, I need to talk with you. Could you meet me at Outback, in Del Amo? Say, an hour? Thanks."

She saw him approach across the parking lot and went outside. "Thanks for coming. I appreciate it."

They soon had a table and after ordering, he asked her how she was doing.

"I'd say 'fine' but your situation has me sick at heart. I can't believe JoAnne's doing what she's doing. Has anything changed?"

"She didn't show at the marriage counselor this afternoon and when I went home, she wasn't there. I don't see how this can be salvaged and, to be honest with you, I no longer care."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I can't believe she's doing this. What are you going to do?"

Their salads arrived and he paused before answering.

"I did all the usual stuff... moved the money before she could think of it and cancelled the credit cards. It'll be there when the divorce divides things up."

"So, you're going to divorce her? For sure?"

He looked at her, his face giving her the answer.

"I guess that was a stupid question. But, then what?"

"Sell the house or buy her out, I guess. Probably sell it. I don't want to walk around and see her in every room. It's too bad, I like the house."

"You could always just buy new furniture and repaint everything."

Their steaks arrived.

He looked at her. "That's something to think about. Thanks for the idea. What did you want to talk about, Jeanette? You didn't ask me down here to discuss painting my house."

"I have something to show you. I wanted to make sure I was right before I said anything."

He stopped cutting his sirloin. "I was hoping you could tell me what's really going on with her. I can't believe she's treating me this way just because of a book and a TV show."

She leaned closer. "When we first spoke at your office, I wished I knew and I said to myself 'Do you think that she's...' and then I said, 'No, that can't be it,' but I had to make sure, so I followed her."

Bill knew what she was going to say and didn't want to entertain that idea yet it made sense, in a roundabout way. JoAnne couldn't be THAT stupid, could she?

"If that's the case, even so, why would she do this to me, now?"

"I don't know," Jeanette said, "maybe she wants out of your marriage and this is the only way she could think of, find a way to blame you, real or otherwise."

He pondered what Jeanette had said. It was the first time THAT idea had surfaced. 

"That's something to think about, that's for sure. Why I didn't think about it already, I don't know. Pretty stupid for a lawyer, isn't it?"

"No, you're just too close to it and you were trying to save your marriage. Look, I used my cell phone." She passed her phone over and he could clearly recognize his wife embracing another man. "I'm sorry it's over. You're such a good man."

"No, I'm just a normal guy who tried to save his marriage, that's all." He kept staring at the glowing picture.

"Anyway, I decided to wait and follow him, if I could. I took a chance and waited outside the parking structure for them to leave. I almost lost him a few times but fortunately the traffic was bad enough I caught up to him. He lives in Manhattan Beach and I used the internet to look up his address. His name is Philip Delacroix and he's married. I don't know if there are any children or not."

"Thanks. At least I know for sure. Why did you do this for me?"

"To be honest, the idea of you cheating was a possibility. I'm glad that's not so, though. As I said, you're a good man. But then, she said you take too long and that didn't make any sense. What woman was going to complain about that? That's just insane. So, I decided to find out, at least for myself."

"Thank you so much. You're a good person to have done this for me. You want dessert?" He laughed. "I'm buying. Might as well make one woman happy."

"No... I've got to watch my girlish figure, you know. Look, Bill, anything you need, you just give me a call... anything. If not now, then later. Thanks for dinner. I'm sorry, I truly am."

Bill heard a noise at the front door and perked his ears up. It must be JoAnne coming home, he thought, and walked into the living room.

JoAnne spoke up before she even closed the door. "What's the matter with YOU? There's nothing you can say, right now. I'm leaving." I need to get this situation back under control, she thought, before I lose the upper hand.

He was fuming. "If you leave, don't expect to have a Goddamn house to come back to. I'm serious. This has gone on long enough. What's Oprah got to say about that?"

JoAnne stood there, one hand on the doorknob, the other clutching her purse. He could see the indecision in her eyes, like an animal trapped with nowhere to run. 

"Don't you want to save this marriage?" he asked. "I'm doing all the work, here." I'll give you one last chance to come clean, he furiously thought.




You Can't Throw Everything Away Ch. 03



"You're the one cheating, why shouldn't you?" she said, guiltily yet refusing to give him the upper hand in the war she had foolishly started.

"JoAnne... c'mon, please, before we do something that's not fixable. Have you cheated on me?"

"What if I have? You did."

"I... haven't... done... anything. Don't you get it? I'm innocent and you're acting like... ah, shit... fuck it."

The weekend passed in silence. He spent the early morning polishing the old car and then drove north on Pacific Coast Highway toward Malibu. Several times, he envisioned the end of "Vanishing Point" and wondered if that would be a good end for his wife. He smiled, the image of JoAnne tied down to the front of a bulldozer as he sped toward her and a hundred miles-an-hour...

He spent Sunday packing his model trains and magazines for whatever move he would eventually make. He looked at the five boxes. Not much, he thought. That had to change, no matter what happened to his marriage. He took them to the garage.

Monday morning arrived and Eileen took him to the Chevy dealership.

"Oh, this car is wonderful! Take me for a ride!"

He looked at his secretary, the joyful look on her face making him glad. Suddenly, he really did want to take her for a ride, both in the car and in the bedroom. He shook his head to clear that last image. If he did that now, he'd be no better than his treacherous wife. He looked at his cell phone. Ten-fifteen... it should have been...

His cell rang. "Hello?... you did?... good. How'd she take it?... oh, well, we can't all have what we want, can we? Thanks."

He turned to Eileen, a smile on his face. "Let's go for a ride. Ever been to Solvang?"

"Solvang? Really? I love Solvang!"

"Great. Let's move your car somewhere onto my street so it's safe and then we'll go."

Soon, they were driving north on PCH and by early afternoon, they were having lunch at the Red Viking in the Danish town.

"Do you come here, often?" she asked.

"We... we used to. But, that all changed, I guess, when she stepped over the line with this Philip guy and stopped wanting to go places with me. I now believe she was using my time away to spend with him. What do you think I should do? I'd like to punch him in the nose and kick him you know where."

"That would only get you in jail and you'd lose your law practice. Let's just send his wife that picture you showed me from Jeanette along with a little note. I'm sure she'd like to use it."

"All right, you're right. Why should we get hurt more than we've already been. Let's have fun. I haven't been here in at least four years. There's this bakery I liked."

"The one with the windmill?"

"Yes, that one."

He bought Eileen a small, glass unicorn at the gift store. "For you," he said, almost bashfully. Am I falling for her? he wondered, or is it just a 'she's here', thing?

"Eileen?" he asked, as they walked up the street toward the bakery shop.

"Yes?" She squeezed his hand and looked at him. "What's on your mind, Bill?"

"I don't want to ruin our friendship by doing something stupid. We both know why we're here, today."

In answer, she tip-toed to kiss him. "Bill, I'm your friend. If something happens, then it happens. If not, we'll still be friends. OK?"

"OK, I just don't want to hurt you. I've been hurt enough and know how it feels."

"I'm a big girl, Bill. I know. Buy me a cookie."

"I'll buy you a whole bucket's worth."

The ride back to LA was quiet and he wondered what was going to happen when he finally went home.

"What!?! You want a divorce? How can you..." JoAnne screamed.

"Do this to YOU? What about what you've done to MY life?" Bill couldn't believe her attitude. If she had been penitent, something might have worked out but he was tired of living with her. He knew there was no future here.

"Oh, don't be stupid. Of course, you..." JoAnne was silent, realizing her mistake. Nothing on 'Oprah' or 'The View' had prepared her for the real consequences of her disastrous plan. If she had just been quiet, her affair could have lasted as long as she wanted.

Things were moving too fast. One word led to another and then there was no turning back, even for a civil parting of the ways.

"Here's my lawyer's card. Make an appointment with someone. Bring a raincoat."

"A raincoat? Why?"

"It's going to be a bloodbath. I hope you'll be very happy, someday, with some other poor bastard."

"Goodbye, JoAnne." He went to the front bedroom and pushed the dresser against the door. Let her get through that, he thought. 

Tuesday morning, he packed his five boxes into the Malibu and headed to his new office. Three trips and they were all locked in the office closet.

"Mornin', boss. What do you think?"

"I think she's spitting blood."

"I meant about the office but that's interesting, too. So far, about half your clients have transferred over to us. I'm waiting to see what happens with the rest but I expect retainer checks in the mail by the end of the week."

"That's fantastic. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Do you still feel married?" She walked to him and stroked his arm.

"No... isn't that strange? Ten years over, just like that."

"She killed it a long time ago without your permission. It's been over, you just didn't know it." She moved closer, into his personal space. He could feel her breath on his face. She could feel his arousal. She reached down and touched him.

He blushed. "Eileen..."

"Shhh," she said, "just go with it."

"I can't, Eileen, not now. I think I want you... I know I want you, but... not now."

Her disappointment was obvious as she held him tightly, kissed him lightly and then backed away. "Aren't you going to show me your trains?"

Just before eleven, Jeanette surprised Eileen and Bill. "Good morning, Bill... Eileen. What happened, Bill?"

"She was served this morning and I'm moving my things out. I got my models out. That's about ten thousand dollars right there and too easily lost. The car's locked up as tight as Fort Knox. That's about all I can do for it, right now."

"I came by to ask you to lunch. If you're busy, I can always call for an appointment, I guess."

Bill looked at Eileen, still flushed from their embrace. "I..."

"That's all right, Bill... Eileen can come, too, if she wants. I promise, I won't bite."

"I'll close everything down," Eileen said, leaving the room.

"What really brings you here, Jeanette?" he asked.

Jeanette looked through the doorway toward Eileen. "I just wanted to say I'm here for you... you know."

"You had said that, before. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate everything you've done for me, especially all with the picture and everything. You helped me make up my mind, once and for all. But, it's too soon to be..."

"I just wanted you to know, that's all," she said, feeling foolish.

"Thank you. Just because I'm a little shy right now doesn't mean I'll be that way, forever. I promise that when the time comes, I'll give you a call. Do you still want to go to lunch?"

'Yes, very much. Eileen won't mind?"

"She's pretty much in the same boat as you, right now. I never thought I'd be so popular with you two."

"I'll admit I've an ulterior motive. I want to see if you really do take forever. I could use..."

Eileen coughed and walked in. "Everything's ready to go, Bill. Where do you want to go?"

"Anthony's on the pier? How's that sound?"

"Fine... it sure beats Carrow's."

After a surprisingly nice lunch, both women helped him take his clothes from the house back to the office. The last thing he took from the house were his college and law school degrees hanging from the den wall.

"You know, Bill, this isn't looking too professional, here." Eileen stared at his clothes piled up against the office wall.

"Got to keep them someplace until I get a new house or something."

"Listen, I've got a two bedroom apartment. Stay with me. Your clothes are going to look like they were in a train wreck by the time you wear them. You can't sleep here. Our clients are expecting as good or better from us, now, that we're independent." 

"Well... when you put it that way, how can I say 'no'."

Dinner that night was a simple affair, just some spaghetti with Prego sauce and some Magnum ice cream bars. When he had arrived, he noticed how simply Eileen lived and realized that whatever his old partnership had paid her, it wasn't enough.

"Eileen? I was thinking..."

"Yes?"

"I think of you more as a partner than a secretary or personal assistant or whatever you want to call it and I know you took a tremendous chance leaving with me. I'd like to see how much we take in but I'm definitely going to give you a big raise."

All his good intentions disappeared that night as she came into the bedroom. He laid her on her back; as her heart pounded in time with his, their mouths mated, their hands linked. Trembling with the force of desire for him, Eileen parted her legs, feeling him tease her.

He 

eased himself inside her as gently as possible but she still gasped as he pushed. As she forced herself to relax, her body seemed to stretch, taking all of him in, filling her. Slowly, Bill began to move, kissing her tenderly again and again.

With each kiss, he stroked a little deeper, a little faster. She clung to him, her body matching his moves until they moved together in unison. Eileen was aware of nothing but him. She cried out as an intense wave of pleasure grew and grew through her and finally burned its way into her soul. A blast of heat filled her as he finally exploded deep within.

He held himself on his arms as he buried his face alongside her neck and she felt the racing of his heart as it finally slowed. Eileen kept her arms around him, still loving the intimacy of their bodies even as she cooled. She laughed.

"What did I do?" he asked, amazed that she could laugh at a time like that.

"Whether JoAnne was just talking or not, you DO last a long time. Thank God."

She moved away and then came back on top of him. Her finger touched his nose. "Thank you."

"You're welcome... but, why?"

"For everything... I was afraid that JoAnne had ruined you, forever. I'm not fifteen, Bill. As long as you have time for me, I'll be happy. Maybe, it'll be more than that, I don't know but I told you before, I'll take what I can get. I know I'm pushing forty but I've been thinking about you ever since I met you and as crazy as this sounds, I've waited... God, how I've waited... such a long time... and, you never did anything. That's why I know I can trust you not to break my heart with promises you have no intention of keeping. Does that make sense?"

"Yes. I promise I'll never do anything on purpose to make you sad."

They slept that night in each other's arms and the next morning brought a welcome repeat of the night before.

"Jeanette's here and we might have a little problem."

"Huh?"

"Jeanette's going to expect some kind of 'thank you' from you."

"Oh? And..."

"I'm just saying... she'll expect some kind of 'thank you' from you and you shouldn't forget it, that's all."

Jeanette walked in. "Hi, Bill. Lunch?"

Bill looked at Eileen who nodded her head. "Uh, yeah, sure, I guess. Do we have anything else for the day, Eileen?"

'I'm just waiting for the mail and if any calls come in from our old clients. Go on, have a good time and if you have to come back late, I'll lock up."

What was THAT all about? he asked himself. "Uh, yeah, fine." Women! "Where would you like to go, Jeanette?"

"I don't care, Bill, anywhere is fine."

He put his taco down. Chevy's Mexican seemed like a good choice, at the time, but it was so noisy, they should have just left after they arrived.

"So..." he asked, "how are things?"

"All right. Aren't you going to ask me about JoAnne?"

"No."

"Well, I'll tell you, anyway. It seems that a certain photo was given to a certain wife who's now divorcing a certain Philip who's dropped a certain JoAnne. Amazing, how that worked out, isn't it?"

"As interesting as that is, and it is... so what?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thought you'd like to know, is all."

"Thanks. You're a good friend, Jeanette."

"I spoke with Eileen."

"Oh?" Now what? he wondered. He was going to say something when his cell rang. "Eileen?... and you're good with that? You're kidding. Not at all... after all, that's what a good personal assistant does, I guess."

"Well, Your Honor, that about sums up my client's case. We propose a one-time payment in lieu of alimony. He has no desire to continue contact with his... with that woman. I'm sure you can appreciate that. She can keep the house. He has no desire to have anything to do with that, either."

"Ms. Croteau, do you see any chance at reconciliation between your client and his wife? I can order it, you know."

"Your Honor, you can order it all you want but Mr. Hiquet is adamant. He no longer wishes to remain married to her."

"Mr. Kelly, what do you wish to add on behalf of your client?"

"Your Honor, Mrs. Hiquet is resolute in her wish for counseling. She now believes that their differences can be worked out, given enough time and begs the court to honor that request."

"I'll take it to my chambers. Let's break for lunch and I'll see everyone back here at 2 o'clock, sharp."

The two restaurants near the courthouse were packed for lunch and as fortune would have it, both parties ended up waiting for a table, together.

JoAnne wiped her chair before she sat down. "So, what do you think? Will she give a ruling, today or?"

"Oh, she'll give a ruling today, one way or the other. The question is, will you be happy with whatever her ruling is. You realize she could order some counseling?"

"God, I hope so."

At the other end of the café, Bill looked at his lawyer. "God, I hope not. What good would that be? As her husband... ah, never mind, we've been through this a hundred times before. So, what's not going to turn my stomach?"

"I always like a good steak but I'm used to all this. Maybe, a club sandwich for you? That should be good enough, I think."

"All right, you're the expert. A club sandwich, it is."

"A ten year marriage, especially these days, is nothing to take lightly... and yet, here we are. Sometimes, people just grow apart. 'Irreconcilable differences' covers a multitude of sins, these days. There's a sadness that fills this courtroom, every day with the broken dreams of so many couples. Mrs. Hiquet believes that this marriage can still be saved."

The judge took a drink of water and then she looked at both of them, sadly. "I've looked over everything, every confusing thing but I've come to one conclusion and that like Humpty Dumpty, nothing is going to put this marriage together again. Dissolution granted."

Both Eileen and Jeanette came forward and hugged Bill. 

"Let's go, boss," said Eileen. 

"I've got the tickets," said Jeanette, "and the car is already packed. We've three hours before the ship sails."