The Letter

Posted on September 18, 2011 by David Vulcez

John paced slowly and thoughtfully in his living room just a few feet from where his wife, Ruth, sat reading a book. Ruth could sense the turmoil in his mind, both from the nervous pacing and heavy sighing. She was dreading the conversation she knew was coming and the impact it would have on their lives. She sat waiting, dreading, only pretending to read.

John turned to her finally with his own dread pounding in his head and said, “Ruth…?” She looked up at him and held her breath, raising her eye brows in mute inquiry. “Ruth, I need to talk to you and I hope you can hear me out before you react to what I’m about to say”.

“Oh God!” she thought. She had been anticipating this for over a month but just realized she was not really ready to hear it, not ready to have her life changed forever. She let out her breath heavily and simply said, “Ok, John”. She put her book in her lap and held it tensely.

John sat slowly on the couch with her about a foot away turning as much as possible towards her, laid his big paw on top of her dainty hand and said, “I haven’t been a very good husband to you lately. I have done things I am not proud of and I have dishonored you. I mean to change that as of now if you can let me.”

Hope sprang into Ruth’s consciousness, tinged with a bit of anger and sorrow. Emotions she had not allowed herself to feel over the past long, difficult month. “Are we talking about your affair with Gina Laslowe or something else?” she said with more bite in the tone than she wanted to show.

John blanched slightly, dropped his eyes and whispered, “Fuck. When…? How…? How long have you known?”

“Over a month.” she said flatly. “For the past 21 years, you’d put on your police uniform and walk out that door and I’d wonder if this was the day you wouldn’t come home because some drugged up shit-head killed you. For the past month, I wondered if this was the day you’d walk out that door and not return because you decided to move on with Gina. I don’t know which is worse. I actually thought of killing you myself so I guess the second scenario was worse in my mind.”

“Oh, Ruth how do I begin to even say how sorry I am? I have called it off… as of yesterday. We were going to meet up this afternoon and I called her and said it was over and I wouldn’t see her again and I meant it. I promise you I will never, ever, ever do anything like that again…! Please, can you forgive me? … and I know I have some real work to do to get you back completely and I am prepared to do whatever you want me to do. Even… fuck, I don’t even want to say it… even if it means giving you up and not fighting your divorce terms. You decide. You’re in the driver’s seat. Tell me. Want me dead? Just say the word and I’ll eat my revolver.”

Ruth reflected for a bit and then said coolly, “I want you dead. But, please do it somewhere where I won’t have to clean up the mess — blood is soooo hard to get out of good carpeting.”

John’s eyes widened, “Are… are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

Ruth looked at him with a raised eyebrow and said, “See. One should not be making ridiculous offers to a wronged woman. One might find oneself having to live up to promises one may not want to keep. … No, dumbass I don’t want you killing yourself, but I am keeping the ‘I might kill you myself option open’.” Ruth extended her right hand and studied the back of it thoughtfully. “I do see diamonds in my near future; however.”

A wry smile crossed John’s face. “Damn, she is amazing. Even under the worst of situations she can find something to ease the tension and joke about it. I absolutely love this woman.” As those thoughts ran through his head, his demeanor softened but the guilt of his betrayal resounded with a thundering vengeance. How could he have done this to her, his love, his partner?

Ruth suddenly got very serious and her voice was low and hard. “John, for the past few weeks I have cried over you, got depressed because of you, hated you, been sick about you, grieved for us and me and still… I love you. YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! How could you do this to me? To us… to ME!!!?” She was crying, no, sobbing now and her small fists thumped on his chest. John pulled her close and held her as she sobbed.

His eyes filled with tears, his body shaking with the force of his own emotion. He rocked her gently and kept repeating, “I am so sorry… so sorry…”

She continued to sob, and periodically hit him with her clenched fists saying, “you broke your promise… broke your promise…”

The minutes ticked by as they sobbed together, clinging to each other tightly for mutual support for perhaps the first time in several months. But they were in it together. Together they would find a way through this and come out on the other side. They continued to rock and cling and sob for seeming hours, with the occasional jab to the ribs and chest from small, angry fists.

****

The road to THEM would prove to be long and rocky. Outbursts of rage, accusations and name calling were pretty common fare from Ruth. Sullen, guilt ridden apologies and being attentive to Ruth’s every whim was the soup of John’s daily existence. They never didn’t share the same bed. Ruth reasoned that she had slept with him when she knew about his “whoring around” — before his confession and she couldn’t see why she wouldn’t sleep with him now. “Plus, “, she told him, “It’s easier to keep tabs on you if I can see you.” She often wore her sexiest night gowns and even went as far as buying VERY sexy attire to wear to bed but made it clear that sleeping was all they would be doing in that bed until she decided differently. After showering she would stand in the bedroom with every light on drying off. Displaying her luscious nude form to full effect — something she had never done before. She wore perfume and makeup to bed with the sole purpose of driving John mad with lust and desire. She would play sensuous music at various times of the day and do slow undulating stripteases before John’s wide eyes and open mouth and then redress to resume whatever chore she had been involved in.

Damn, she could be very cruel. John seemed to walk around with a permanent erection during this horribly frustrating and seemingly endless “dry” spell. Ruth took to calling John at odd, unpredictable times during his work day to check on his whereabouts and would even call other police officers who worked the same shift and ask them to have John take the call at their desk to insure John really was where he said he would be. To say John was on a very short leash was an understatement but he took to the process with a resignation that this was his price of admission back into Ruth’s heart. He even took the constant ribbing from his shift mates with stoic grace even chiding them on the fact that this could be them or worse if they ever strayed. He was learning his lesson.

One night about 2 ½ months after his “confession” John awakened slowly to find Ruth straddling his midsection rocking feverishly and panting heavily. He felt the exquisite sensation of his rock hard cock being massaged by the hot, soaking silkiness of Ruth’s frantic pussy. Through his sleepy and confused state he wasn’t sure how to react. Should he participate or would awareness that he was awake and enjoying this cause her to quit and trigger a continuation of his dry spell? He waited until he heard the sounds from her that always signaled the beginnings of her orgasm. He loved and so missed those sounds: heavy panting followed by little squeals and leading finally to her heavy gasp and a single groan always through clenched teeth. He almost cried for joy. Once the squeals started, John sat up abruptly, bear hugging her rib cage tightly and sucking madly on one and then the other hard and protruding nipple.

Ruth’s responsed with “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!, Jesus, John! Yesssss, yesss ohhhh… shit yesssssss” She started then to squeal sharply, gasped 3 times and screamed through clenched teeth. John held her through her release and then flipped her over on her back and began to plow into her quivering satiny wetness with all the force his 6 foot frame could generate. Ruth continued to balance on the knife edge of complete release for some time again and finally went over the top repeating her previous response to their fervent joining. John this time was not far behind firing his long pent up juices deep into her body’s center.

The only thought John’s stupified brain could muster was, “beautiful… fuckin’ beautiful”.

After catching their breath and coming down from their frenzied sexual high, Ruth finally held his face in her hands tightly, She looked John square in the eye, her blazing green eyes even visible in the extreme low light of the darkened bedroom and said with a voice cracking with emotion, “You are mine, you fucking son of a bitch! All mine and don’t you ever forget that again. If you ever, ever cheat on me again I will, I swear, nail your dick to my bedpost and send the rest of you packing. Is that clear you stupid bastard!!!” She hit both of his shoulders with her fists for punctuation.

John slid his rough hand across the side of her dampened face, kissed her lips very gently and whispered, “Yes, yes my love. I am yours… always. I promise… Thank you, thank you. Oh shit, what a fool I was… never, never again. I swear, I swear, I swear.” They settled into a soft embrace in quiet thought of where they had been, what they nearly lost and where their road would lead from here. John kissed the top of Ruth’s head and stroked her back gently. This was heaven. He thanked all that he held sacred for this moment and what it foretold.

After a long languid silence, Ruth said gently but with a hint of foreboding, “John, I need you to answer two questions for me. Why Gina; and what made you break it off and face me about it?”

John flinched briefly, not wanting to disturb this precious moment and definitely not wanting to turn to that page of his memories that caused all the hurt and struggle they had just been through. He thought quietly for a long minute then said softly, “Baby, I will tell you everything you want to know. … I promise. The ‘why Gina’ is pretty simple, I guess. She had been coming on to me for several months; dropping by the precinct to bring me lunch and ‘just to talk’. She always talked about how lonely and horny she was since Bill was killed and how if I could ‘help her out’ she would really appreciate it. I guess she just decided since her love was gone she should just go for anything and I was anything. It was just too easy and she fed my old ego something fierce. I felt sorry for her really, she was becoming a regular ‘badge bunny’.”

Ruth broke in at this point, “BADGE BUNNY, my ass! Crying out loud, John she’s almost 40! That does not qualify her as a ‘badge bunny’, more like a ‘dust bunny’ if you ask me. Now if it was Celia Johannsen you were messing with; I would have just walked into your office, plugged you three times and turned myself in. No way could I compete with that little hottie. Shit, if she looked at ME sideways I’d do her, and I’m not even close to being into woman. She’s a ‘badge bunny’! I do have to admit Gina has the nicest set of boobies money can buy. Do you need me to get a set of plastic hooters for you to play with?”

John stopped her strongly but you could hear a note of playfulness in his tone,” HELL, NO!! I love your sweet cupcakes and you will not mess with my favorite toys, is that clear!!” Ruth gave a fake salute, giggled quietly and simply said, “Yes, sir.”

John paused a long time then sighed, “As for the second part of your questions I will answer you but to make it understandable I really have something I need you to read. Can you hold on to that question ’til morning? I will take the day off and will give you the whole story. Does that sound fair?”

“Holy shit! You’re going to take the day off for this? This better be good or you may not get lucky again for a loooooonnnnnggg time.” There was a slight chuckle in her voice that let him know that the old Ruth was back and they might make it. He again breathed a silent prayer of thanks, kissed the top of her head and they drifted off to sleep still clutching each other as if there was a chance the other would somehow disappear.

***

When the sun rose, John and Ruth were still locked in a gentle embrace. John awakened first and looked down at this nude angel sleeping gently. Her body was facing his and she was spread out nearly covering the left side of his body. Her head was lying on his chest just below his left nipple. Her hair was splayed out across his chest and her left arm encircled his lower rib cage. It felt wonderful having her there and feeling close to her. He kissed the top of her head lightly and she did not stir. As he replayed the night’s “activity” in his memory, the thought occurred to him that he had worn briefs to bed. The question immediately became “How in the hell, had she gotten them off of him without waking him and what happened to them?” After a quick inspection the answer became immediately clear. On each side of his prone figure he saw the sides of his briefs (or what was left of them) lying spread out away from his body like a short set of wings. The little minx had simply cut the briefs from his body and thrown the top section off to get at his “stuff”. He laughed quietly for a moment until the thought occurred to him that she could have just as easily made him able to sing soprano for the Vienna Boys Choir. He gulped at that thought. He then decided if she could take advantage of him while he was asleep he should do the same to her. He cautiously rolled her on her back and began a sweet seduction of her sleeping form.

She opened one eye, giggled softly and whispered in a husky, sexy voice, “Cover me up when you’re done”. She then closed her eye and began snoring loudly while trying to keep a smile from turning her lips. John could not help but to laugh heartily. For the first time in many months, they made love deeply and passionately, pausing only long enough for John to call in to the precinct saying he was taking a personal day. The desk sergeant, on hearing John’s panting request, chuckled, “Damn, John, if she does you in make sure she calls me first! Glad you came to your senses, my friend. Enjoy your day… you lucky bastard.”

After finally leaving a bed that saw more one night action than it had witnessed in years, the couple sat at the breakfast table, sipped their coffee quietly and contemplated their future. All thoughts were of coming times with them still together and maybe a promise or at least a hope of better days ahead.

John decided to open the floor with a tongue in cheek kind of question to lighten the moment a bit. “Just what the hell was last night all about anyway?” he said this with a Cheshire cat grin and a light chuckle in his voice. “You were freakin’ amazing, girl and I wasn’t aware you had it in you — especially the part where you cut my ga-damn shorts off. That really messed with my head”.

Ruth looked at him with a sly, comical grin over the top of her coffee cup, her green eyes dancing with impish delight. “Well if you MUST know, after teasing you relentlessly with my nightly sexy display and all the strip teasing I did, I was as horny as a herd of wild mares in season. Last night I was lying with my back to you and you kind of spooned up to me and I felt this big ol’ hot hunk of man flesh sticking between my butt cheeks and I just couldn’t take it any more. You were out cold so I rolled you on your back, got a pair of scissors, cut off your undies and climbed aboard. Once I got going I didn’t give a shit about anything except how great it felt to be ‘riding the pony’ again and getting off. Damn, you felt good!! I did actually give some thought to possibly fucking you to death just for my revenge but then it occurred to me that that would leave me without that part of you that scratches my itch so effectively. I’m keeping you around purely for selfish reasons.” She gave him a wide-eyed impish look and winked at him.

John shook his head and grinned broadly. Gradually the smile faded from John’s face and he eyed Ruth thoughtfully for a moment. He left the room quietly and returned moments later with a few folded sheets of paper in his hand. “Ruth…” he said hesitantly, “Last night you asked what made me stop seeing Gina and I want to answer that now. I again want to say that whatever you want to know about it all, ask and I’ll answer as best and as truthfully as I know how. Please know above all else that at no time did I ever stop loving you; caring about you and wanting you. I know that sounds like so much bullshit after what I did to you… to us, but that I swear is the truth. It was all about ego shit, excitement and macho crap. I hate myself for doing it and wish I could undo it. Just for the record, she never once, not once, came close to being as hot, beautiful, sexy, loving, … fuckin’ wild (here he snickered) as you are on even a bad day. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I will not jeopardize that… us again. As to what happened to kick me in the ass and open my eyes to what I was doing, here is what happened that lead up to my admission of guilt.”

John took a deep breath. “A couple of weeks before our ‘talk’, I was working on a report of a body that was found in an alley in one of the seedier parts of downtown. I went and talked to the coroner’s office and viewed the body. The body was that of a woman in her mid thirties whose hands were kind of split and cracked like she wasn’t used to real hard work long term but had recently been doing that kind of work. She had been robbed and strangled to death. No ID, nothing really to go on to get a sense of who she was – a Jane Doe case. Not very unusual but there was something that kept nagging at me about her. I felt like I had to work this case hard. I had a couple of uniforms canvass the area and we were able to ascertain that she was a short-order cook in a greasy spoon type cafe in that area. The café paid her in cash and didn’t know what her name was for sure. They just called her ‘Sad Sadie’ or Sadie to her face. The guy we talked to said she was always sad about something but kept pretty much to herself. She lived in a shitty apartment next to an abandoned building where a bunch of junkies and runaway kids crashed and we found her personal belongings in various places in the abandoned building and a few things not worth stealing in her trashed apartment. I was going through an old coat of hers that had been pretty high end gear at some time or another but at that time was really beat up. In a torn section of the coat I found this letter (he held up the pieces of paper at this time) that she obviously had stashed and was intending to mail but just never had. I read the letter in hopes that it would tell me more about who she was. That was two days before I came to you to confess. From the letter we were able to find out who she was and from our interviews and canvassing, just last week, we were able to nail her killer. As we were chasing the ‘perp’ he had the good sense to run across the street and get greased by a truck. He died at the scene, saving us a whole lot of paperwork and saved the city the cost of prosecution. Anyway, that letter kept haunting me so I made a copy of it and read it again. I’ll read it for you or you can read it yourself, which ever you prefer.”

Ruth looked at John intently and asked him to read it to her so she could get a sense of its impact on him.

John read:

My Dearest Ben,

I know you probably don’t want me ever referring you in that manner but that’s what you are to me. I can’t say I’m sorry enough about what I did to you and to the kids. I am never going to get over my own betrayal of you. I’m sorry, Ben. I became the kind of person I always had looked down upon with complete disgust. How could that have happened? What happened to the upstanding faithful wife and mother you were used to knowing? For six months I lived a lie. I looked you in the eye, smiling and joking with you when in my heart I knew at the same time I was cheating on you with another man. I hate myself for that. My darling, sweet husband it’s important to me that you know that you did nothing wrong. No slight, no forgetfulness on your part justifies what hurt I heaped on you. The entire fault was mine and mine alone. A man, not my husband, complimented and toyed with me until I fell for his stupid lines. What a fool I was to trade your daily attention and support for a few well chosen words about my appearance and intelligence. Somehow when you said those things they just didn’t mean as much. They should have but they just didn’t. Now I fear I will never hear your voice or the sweet sound of our children’s laughter again. I could’t face you and see the hurt and disgust in your eyes so I just decided to disappear and allow you to go on with your life and find a new love. Someone who will love you the way you should be loved. You deserve that and I want that for you with all my heart. I know you can get a divorce citing my abandonment as cause. That way there is no split of anything and you can go on raising our children in the way you always have. You are a good father and I know you will continue to do what is best for them.

I still look back in horror at the day you found out about Phil and me. When Phil’s wife came by that day saying she had something for me, I didn’t know how react. When she opened that huge purse like she was getting something out of it and hit me with it, I was taken totally by surprise. When she stood over me calling me a whore and a slut it was like I was finally awakening to what I really had done. The worst part was when you came to help me and she showed you the pictures she had of Phil and me together. You came to me to help and protect me from Janine with that look of concern you get. I was horrified to watch your face go from one of caring and loving to surprise, hurt and finally total contempt. When you helped me up off the floor I thought we were going to be ok, but when you led me to the door threw me out and locked it I knew I was lost. I deserved that but it still caught me off guard. When you were throwing my clothes and things on the lawn while screaming at me in your pain I knew I could not face you any more and I was not deserving of anything from you so I took what I could carry and left.

Please don’t hate me and when the kids ask about me if you could allow them to have some good memories of me that is all I would ask of you.

I am working but will not give my name because I don’t want you to find me, if you care to. At some point maybe when I’m stronger I will let you get in touch with me if you desire. I will probably let my sister be my go-between when I am ready to face you. A lot has to happen between now and then.

I will always love you, Ben and I hope some day you can find it in your heart of forgive me. I don’t know how to end this letter so I will just say good bye and I love you and our children more than you could ever know.

Mary

John finished reading and looked at Ruth forlornly. “I read the letter and say myself looking back. I had to face up to what I was doing and how it could possibly hurt you if you were to find out. I knew I had to end it and make things as right as I could under the circumstances.”

Ruth touched John’s arm, “I guess I owe a lot to that poor woman and I hope she is at peace now and somehow knows that her story helped others learn from her mistakes. What’s going to happen about Mary and her family?”

John smiled a sad smile. “I personally took the original letter and Mary’s belongings to Ben and told him the story two weeks ago. He was devastated. Seems he had been trying to locate Mary to put their lives back together as a family. The poor bastard never got the chance to let Mary know that he had forgiven her and wanted her back in his life. So now his kids will never again see their mother and their father will carry the burden of grief and guilt that he threw her out and there is no way to reverse the chain of events.”

Ruth squeezed John’s arm sympathetically. “That must have been hard for you, telling Ben about his wife.”

John nodded slowly, “I took the task as sort of atonement… my penance so to speak. He needed to be told and their story gave me strength to confront my sins so I needed to be the one to face Ben.” The room fell silent for a while and then John sighed and said, “Unless you want to talk about some other aspect of this mess, I want to take a shower and then we can come up with a plan for the rest of our day.”

“Sorry babe”, Ruth interjected. “Your day is already spoken for. First, you will take that shower, but you will not be alone and I expect great things from your hands and other selected parts of your body in making sure I have a VERY enjoyable experience. You will not leave that shower until I am fully satisfied with your performance or until the hot water runs out — which ever comes first. I had better be the one that ‘comes’ first. Second, we will dress for a day on the town where I will be treated to a sumptuous lunch and shopping for that diamond ring I saw in my future… Remember that? Thirdly, we will come up with ways to run into old Gina Laslowe and really rub her nose in it. I win, she is the loser. Any questions?”

As they headed upstairs to their bedroom and shower, John just had to push the smart-ass envelope by saying, “Yeah, I do have one question. Can we also put on that to-do list to call Celia Johannsen and see about setting up a hot session between you and her? Damn, we could sell tickets and make millions! Half the western world would pay big bucks to see that, I get a ring-side seat, of course.”

Ruth turned sharply on the stairs and held her clenched fist at his nose looking down at him from the steps above. Her eyes flashed with mock indignation and she purred, “Celia’s and my relationship is HOT, loving and VERY private and I will not have it sullied by your need for sexual and financial gratification.” Then she moved in close to his ear and hotly whispered, “You’ll just have to I..M..A..G..I..N..E.. it, lover. uuuhhhhhhhhhh!”

John just straightened to attention and gushed, “Yes, ma’am!” and then said huskily, “Let’s hit the shower while THAT picture is embedded in my sick little mind.” He swatted her ass playfully and said, “Hurry your ass up, I see a long shower session in your immediate future.”

Choices Made

Posted on September 18, 2011 by David Vulcez

I was killing time in a quaint little import shop a stones throw away from Picadilly Circus in the heart of London. I wasn’t really looking for anything just browsing the curiosities they had on display.

“Hello, Michael.” I heard a familiar feminine voice softly call out a name I hadn’t been addressed by for some time. I turned and fell into a set of brown eyes that still found a way to make my heart skip. It’s amazing the range of feelings that can come over you in the length of a breath. I felt a flutter in my chest, surprise, confusion, a desire to throw my arms around this woman and finally settled into cold bitterness. I stared at her for what felt like 10 minutes but probably was less than 10 seconds.

“Hello Gretchen, this is quite a surprise.” I went back to browsing not really wanting to engage her in conversation but full well knowing it was not to be avoided. Gretchen, I knew, would never leave it at that.

“Got a few minutes to chat? I’ll let you buy a girl some coffee and we can talk.”, Gretchen offered teasingly.

“I don’t think so, Gretchen. I have the time but I don’t know that we have that much to talk about.”, I stated flatly. I wasn’t all that interested in being polite with the woman that destroyed my life. I knew she would persist but she was going to have to work for it.

I heard a soft sigh and then, “Please Michael, I really would like to talk to you and I’ll… I’ll buy the coffee.” I stared blankly at her for a moment and then relented.

“All right. But call me Mike. I don’t go by Michael anymore.”

She rolled her eyes a bit and stated with a hint of arrogance, “I think I’ve earned the right to call you Michael if I want.”

“Okay Pookie, have it your way.”, I shot back.

She was visibly shaken by my use of a long buried endearment I used when we were together.

In happier days, I would teasingly come up behind her, cuddling and fondling her. I would always in a whiny voice say, “Come on upstairs, Pookie, and give me some loving. I’m in need, Pookie. I gotta have you. Please Pookie, lets go get naked.” Invariably, she would scream and say, giggling, “get away from me you pervert, you ain’t getting any loving til I’m ready. Go take a cold shower, you randy booger.” Often times these one act plays would degrade to me chasing her through the house playfully or me getting sprayed with a kitchen sprayer. It was all in fun and we both loved it. Those were good times.

She got very flustered and thought quietly for a second. “Your point is made, …Mike.”, she softly said with a measure of sadness in her voice. I was actually surprised at her reaction and felt there was much more behind that surrender than words could ever explain.

She walked briskly to the counter and spoke to the proprietor in a language I had no clue about. The small Asian woman behind the counter looked at me, nodded somewhat solemnly and then bowed motioning us to a small coffee bar in the rear of the shop. There was two small tables in front of the bar ringed with wicker style chairs. We selected a table, sat down and two coffees were brought to us by the now smiling woman. Without even thinking about it, Gretchen chose the chair facing the coffee bar and the wall and I went around the table and took the chair facing the door. Muscle memory doesn’t forget. This was a ritual we had practiced thousands, maybe millions, of times over the course of twenty-four years of marriage. I had to face the door. This was a leftover nervous ‘tic’, if you will, from a tour of duty in Vietnam. After all this time we still maintained our rituals. I think we both noticed it based on the little curious half smile that I saw cross Gretchen’s pretty face.

We sat silently for a long minute and my mind went back, despite my best efforts, to the last time I saw this lovely woman who is my ex-wife.

We lived in a small town in Connecticut and I thought we were a happily married couple. My wife had seemed distant for several months. I saw and spoke to her everyday but I could sense this division coming between us. I tried to ignore it and doubled my efforts to engage her and bring her closer to me again; to make her happy. Our two kids were both out of our house by then, trying to get a foothold in their new role as adults. Bret, our son and the eldest, was 23 and had just graduated from college. He had married a sweet gal that everyone adored named Amy in his senior year of school. He and Amy both work in New York and commute by train back to their small townhouse in New Jersey. They were making some headway and were (and still are) deeply in love. It was beautiful to see. Our second child was our fireball daughter, Misty, who was 21. She is the apple of my eye (it’s a daddy-daughter thing) and our wild child. I held my breath (and my temper) much of the time she was in high school. By her second year of college, however; she finally figured out that all the NO’s we threw at her really were intended for ‘her own good’ and she settled down and will soon finish her BS degree with many appearances on the Dean’s List. Go figure.

I was editing an article soon to appear in one of the magazines my employer published when I received a phone call from my wife. “Hello Michael this is Gretchen. Would you be interested in having lunch with me today? I know it’s short notice but I thought it could be fun to do something a little out of the ordinary for a change.”

I was thrilled. “Sure Babe, that sounds like a great idea. I’m glad you called. Did you have somewhere in mind or should I choose?”

“Meet me at the Cafe Paris in … say, 45 minutes? Will that work for you?”, Gretchen asked with a professional, measured tone.

It felt like the distance was still there but at least this was a start. I was overjoyed and very hopeful for a warming in our relationship.

“I’ll be there with bells on! … Should I wear anything else?”, I said chuckling trying to lighten up the atmosphere and show how pleased I was.

“Yes, please”, she stated not very amused.

“Okay, see you at… 12:15. Thanks Babe, this is a great idea. I love you.”, I stated getting up from my desk, reaching for my jacket with a broad grin on my face.

She simply stated, “Okay, see you in a bit.”

I hurried to my car and drove across town to meet my lovely wife for lunch. I can’t describe the elation I felt at this simple gesture on her part.

She was seated at a table with a glass of wine when I entered. I touched her on the shoulder and bent down to give her a kiss. She turned her head away a bit and offered me her cheek. I guess that should have told me something. I said, “Hello, gorgeous looking for a date?” while smiling stupidly. She smirked a bit and said, “Let’s order so we have more time to talk after.” We ordered and she small-talked about some translating projects she was working on at International Trade, Inc. the import/export company she worked for as a language specialist. I ate and listened to her but started to feel a bit uneasy. She barely touched her food. After the dishes were cleared she paid the bill using her business credit card saying it was OK and that her boss knew she was buying me lunch.

She looked down for quite some time and was quiet. I was about to ask what was wrong when she looked me in the eye and said, “Michael, there is no easy way to say this so…

Michael, I’ve been having an affair for about eight months. I love him and I want a divorce.”

I was stunned and destroyed in one mouthful. I looked at her in silence and couldn’t speak. My world tore in half. Never in my life, even with what I witnessed in wartime, was I shaken so thoroughly. I was broken at my very core. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. All was lost. I was lost.

She went on to tell me that he was extremely wealthy, a billionaire actually, and that all expenses for the divorce would be handled by him. Since he was so wealthy, she/they would not ask for anything in the divorce. I could keep everything. I sort of remember her saying something about my little “estate” being left intact. She did that revolting, quote marks in the air gesture when she said “estate”. I knew she was talking but I really heard nothing. It was like I was in a tunnel where I could see my wife’s lips moving but no sound came out. All the words were like bells ringing my doom.

She then went on to say, “This is what I really want, Michael and it is in both of our best interests if you don’t fight this. Fighting it will only prolong the agony but the outcome will be the same. I am leaving for Europe tonight with him and I shan’t (did she really say shan’t) return any time soon… at least until after the divorce is final. Please, let this happen without interference. You have always had an interest in my happiness and this is something that will make me very happy. I will call the kids when I get settled in Paris. I’m not sure how they will take it but you don’t need to worry about that.” With that little speech she got up and walked out of my life while I sat still not believing what had just happened.

The “kids” as it turned out didn’t take it well. They were every bit as stunned and hurt as I was. She never did call them so I had to be the one to break the news to them. I actually got accused of killing her and disposing of her body. The months that followed my wife’s departure were horrific. My kids and I fought bitterly, soul searched what we had done to cause this and traded accusations. I was able to find out the name and some information about Gretchen’s beau from her office (unofficially). I then began to check the Internet for any pictures or articles of him. Luckily, I was able to find a couple of pictures of him with a beaming Gretchen on his arm taken after her “departure” so that put to rest the notion that I had something to do with her disappearance. Interestingly, none of the pictures mentioned her despite the fact that a number of people were listed in the caption. Guess they were trying to keep their home life private.

After about a year I was able to pull my new life back together and began to take an interest in living again. In that time, I made friends with a few select (read “disgruntled”) members of Gretchen’s old employer. I found out that upper-middle management not only knew about Gretchen’s affair but provided cover for her. It seems that some of her beau’s companies provided a lot of work and product for International Trade so they felt it was in their best interest to keep him happy. They even went as far as to send memos to some employees “advising” them to keep things quiet and look the other way. Gretchen’s trysts took place during business hours on company time. Can you say “lawsuit”? Yes, I sued their ass. I am now living reasonably comfortable on their dime. I’m not getting my pound of flesh from Gretchen or her beau (note: part of our divorce agreement was that I would never reveal her beau’s identity, blah, blah, blah.) but I’m not opposed to making some guilty party feel my pain. It’s now three plus years after our last “lunch” and I find myself sitting at a public table across from my “lovely” EX wife.

—

She still looked quite beautiful. The best clothes, hair and makeup that money could buy but she carried a tired, sad look in her eyes. Those soulful brown eyes of hers… those eyes I always adored told me nothing. It was like she was dead inside. When she was happy or excited those eyes danced, flashed and sparkled with life. Today the fire was out. I guess happiness still eluded her.

“You look good, Michael … errr ahh, Mike. Thinner perhaps and a bit more muscled.”, she started the conversation. “Thanks”, I simply said. This was her show. She wanted this so she can carry it.

“I can’t believe we actually ran into each other in London. What are the chances?”, she continued.” “Yes, pretty hard to believe.”, I parried.

“I’m doing a lot of translating in my new position and I’ve even picked up a couple new languages.”, she continued to fish for an opening.

“That was always something that amazed me about you. You are an extremely talented and beautiful woman.”, I finally opened.

She looked down suddenly and teared up. “Thank you.”, she was whispering. “I don’t get any sort of recognition these days. I’m not sure anyone even knows I’m alive.”

“I would have thought that your husband would be showing you off to the world.”

“He never married me. I’m simply a sex toy that can speak a few languages. If he wants to make a good impression on someone he marches me out to show them a good time and talk to them in their tongue. A forty-something American woman that can speak something besides English, can show people around most anywhere and is willing to fuck is rare, I guess. I have become a prized whore.”, she said sadly.

“What! Why don’t you leave? Get on the next plane and fucking get out of Dodge.”, I spat hotly.

“It’s complicated. I live very, very well but I am watched constantly. It would be very hard for me to leave. I’m able to talk to you now simply because we met by chance and I haven’t left the store. Also, Marika, the owner, is a friend of mine and she kind of covers for me if I need to hide for a bit.”

“It sounds horrible, but I guess it’s your choice. Okay, change of subject. Why did you never call the kids? I had a hell of a time convincing them I hadn’t killed you and disposed of your body. They were really devastated they never heard from you.”, I was pushing for answers now.

She seemed to only shrink more into sadness. “I wasn’t allowed to. I flew out that afternoon in a private jet and access to my former life was completely cut off from me. As I said I’m watched constantly.” She suddenly leaned forward and looked straight at me. “Michael, I can’t tell you how many nights I lie alone in a big house in an exotic place and wish I was still lying next to you in our house in Connecticut. God, I miss you and us.

I could feel myself falling back into an old habit. Fix everything to make Gretchen happy. I saw myself being sucked back and I stopped cold. “Wait, wait. Hold it.”, I said putting my hands up in a sign of surrender. “I can’t fix your life for you. More to the point I WON’T fix your life. How dare you sit here and whine about your life. YOU did this! YOU chose this! A whole lot of people I love dearly have had to live and deal with a situation you created for them. It wasn’t something they wanted or chose for themselves. Their lives were forever changed because of choices and decisions YOU made without their consent or input. I accidentally bump into you for the first time in over three years and already it’s all about you. Fuck! I’m tired already. Do you know you have not yet asked about your kids? What kind of a mother would do that? Just for the record, you are now a grandmother. Bret and Amy have a sweet little girl who will be turning two in a couple of months. Her name in case you care is Brianna Lynn. Your daughter Misty, remember her? She is planning to get married to a really good guy named Trevor in about six months. She is still holding out hope that you will be at the wedding, but it’s real hard when we have no address or way of contacting you. Maybe I’ll send the invitation here.”

I was beginning to hyperventilate so I paused, but I was on a roll. All my buried anger and hurt was bubbling up now. “… As for me. What the fuck did I do to deserve the treatment you handed to me? I loved you with all I am and all I had. You threw me away without so much as a good bye. Do you realize you have never even apologized for the destruction you laid on my life? Don’t sit here and whine to me. You fucked this up. You fucked us up. You fucked ME up. You looking for a shoulder to cry on? You don’t get to do it here. You killed that privilege three damn years ago in a little cafe in Connecticut.”

I was about to get up and walk out much like she had three years ago when an angelic voice with a decidedly English accent cut into the heated gloom. “Mike, I can’t bloody leave you alone for five minutes without you chatting up some beautiful woman. I swear I should beat you to a bloody pulp.”, she joked trying to look angry but those green eyes flashed with whimsy. I had been so wrapped up in my tirade I didn’t even see Pamela come in.

I smiled warmly and said, “Hi Baby. Pamela, I’d like you to meet Gretchen; my ex-wife. Gretchen this is my lady friend, Pamela.” Gretchen was still reeling from my verbal assault and now she was facing her “replacement”. She was silent and struggling to maintain control. Pamela simply put forth her hand in the traditional gesture of friendship and said smiling, “I’m very glad to make your acquaintance, Gretchen. Mike has mentioned you often, but not very fondly, I’m afraid. I guess I should thank you for letting go of this randy bloke and allowing me the chance to get my hooks into him. He can be a lot of trouble but I’m slowly getting him house broken.” Pamela looked at me and smiled widely. She smoothed my shoulder fondly and continued, “Mike, my crazy Yank, I’m afraid we have to be going if we are to catch the train to Ely. I’m sorry to interrupt but I am worried for the time.”

I patted her leg and said, “No worries my sweet, I was just finishing up.” I then turned to a still struggling Gretchen and said, “We have to run, but thank you for the coffee and the catching up time. I’ll tell the kids Hello for you and I’ll tell them you said you loved them even though it’s a bit of a lie.” I shook her hand and then said, “I hope you do find happiness someday, Gretchen but I think you’re looking in the wrong place. Thank you also for twenty-three good years. They were mostly happy years for me and I do thank you for that. … Good bye Gretchen.”

Gretchen continued to sit looking shocked much like I had some three long years ago.

Pamela and I headed out into the bustling life of London to meet our appointed train. She never asked about the meeting but I think she heard enough to know it was not a joyful reunion. For the first time in a long time I felt free. Yes, I felt free and even a bit happy.

How Are You?

Posted on September 17, 2011 by David Vulcez

“Hello?”

“Hi sweetie. It’s so great to hear your voice. I have to tell you, I had a heck of a time finding a new phone number for anyone there. So… how are you all doing?”, Linda gushed while trying to keep from sounding breathless and trying to hide the fear and longing that she really felt.

Stacy hesitated and decided to play it safe, “Ummm… I’m sorry, who is this?”

“For crying out loud, Stacy. This is your mother! I’m.. I’m sorry I haven’t called before now but, jeeze, I would expect that you would at least be able to recognize the voice of the mother that loved and raised you for 17 plus years.”, Linda said, now very crestfallen.

Stacy smiled a bit. She really had been pretty sure that it was her Mom calling but things being what they are she had decided to be extra careful. Being careful also had the added benefit of giving her absentee Mom an emotional “slap aside the head” without being out-right nasty.

“Oh, hi Mom. You caught me by surprise and I was just being… you know, careful. I didn’t want to start getting chummy with some stalker.” Stacy paused again and decided to take issue with her Mom’s “loved and raised you for 17 plus years” remark. She was keeping her temper well under wraps but wasn’t above being “politely catty”.

“Mom, I don’t think you can count the last three years under the headings of ‘raising’ or ‘loving’. I was almost 14 when you abandoned us and this is the first we have heard from you in over three years. I’m 17 now and haven’t felt your motherly love in quite some time.”

Linda sighed heavily, “I’m sorry, Stacy. Things were just so, so complicated back then I just felt I had to leave. … But, enough of that! I really called to see how you are doing and maybe talk to your sister and brother if they are around. I plan to be a lot more available to you now that things have settled down. I hope we can reconnect and you can take a little advantage of being the child of a well-to-do mother now that Frank and I are married. I have so much I can do for you, Rachael and Josh. Our life is so much better than what it was when I was with your father. Don’t get me wrong, your father is a good person but he just can’t provide the niceties of life like Frank has lavished on me. I’m very spoiled now and I love it!”

“So now I want to show you kids a REAL life. The way life should be lived. At the same time, I can make up for the years of scraping by we all endured given your father’s meager income and yes, maybe make up for my leaving rather abruptly.”

Stacy was seething by this point. She loved her Dad, Ed Mercer, dearly. She also respected the responsibility and heartache he endured when Linda left forcing him into the role of a single parent trying to raise two early teen and preteen daughters and a wild 20 year old son. She was also very proud of how he had turned their lives around since her Mom’s departure. Linda had cleaned out the bank accounts before she left so finances had been suddenly much worse than they had ever been in Stacy’s memory. At the young age of 14 Stacy took on the role of homemaker as much as she could to help her family survive. Together they had survived, but it was a struggle for over eight months. Then things got better when her Dad made some drastic changes and now life was great!

It would have been easy for Stacy to simply lash out at the perpetrator of much of the pain that defined her fourteenth year of life. That famous temper of hers was ready, waiting in the background like a tiger on a light leash just waiting for slack and the chance to strike.

Stacy suddenly felt a rush of utter calm and knew the course of action she needed to take and it was brilliant!! If she lashed out, her mother would undoubtedly hang up and Stacy might never see or hear from her again. This would do no good for anyone and she really did want to have a relationship with her mother regardless of the stupid things she had done. Stacy basked in the calm feeling sweeping over her as she decided how to proceed. She would make her point, rub her mother’s nose in the slime of her mistakes and still come away with the chance of a continued relationship for her, her siblings and her mother. Stacy smiled broadly and thought, “Stacy, girl, you may have just figured out a huge life lesson.”

“Mom! You absolutely will not believe how hot I am. Hang on, I’m going to take a picture with my phone camera and send it to you. Don’t hang up!”

Stacy stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom with ample light shining through the window. It was around 4:00PM in mid June so the sun came in strong through her west facing window. She smiled brightly, turning a bit sideways to show her coiffed strawberry blond hair piled on her head in an elegant style. She was wearing a full-length lavender evening gown that was elegant but hugged her very feminine frame showing her evolution into full womanhood. The gown was set off by long white gloves that hugged her arms to just above her elbows.

She clicked two pictures, chose the better of the two and quickly sent the picture off to her mother’s cell phone. “Did you get it? What do you think?”

There was a long pause, as Linda viewed and digested the impact that three years in a blooming young woman’s life can make. “Oh, my God. Oh, Stacy. You are beautiful. I’m… you… I’m speechless.”, Linda said this in a sort of whisper, choking back the lump in her throat that was trying to strangle her. “Oh, Stacy I have missed so much, you have grown so… Oh, shit what have I done.”

Stacy ignored her mother’s reflection and pressed on, “You think that’s something, wait ’til you see Rachael!”

Stacy glided across the hall to her sister’s room, pushed open the door where her now 14 year old sister was getting last minute touches to a very elegant hairdo of her long, thick honey brown hair. Rachael’s hair was also piled on her head with several ringlets that formed a coiled frame to her face. Her big gray-blue doe eyes and soft features made everyone stop and stare. Her face was strikingly beautiful. She also was wearing an evening dress that was softly elegant but did a much better job of concealing her charms than the dress worn by her older, more mature sister.

“Hey, Rach. Strike a pose. Mom’s on the phone and I’m sending a picture of you to her.” Rachael was being assisted by a woman in her mid thirties also in an evening gown that was made to impress. The woman possessed a regal beauty that turned heads regularly wherever she went. The woman started to remove herself from the picture frame when Stacy intervened, “No, Janice stay right where you are. I want you in the picture too.”

Rachael was still a bit stunned but finally rolled her eyes and yelled with her hands cupped around her mouth towards the phone, “Hi, Mom! I can’t talk now but lets connect some time later.”

Stacy clicked a few pictures, picked the best shot and sent it on it’s way.

After a pause, Stacy put the phone to her ear and said, “Bet you don’t recognize Rachael do you? I mean Mom, Rachael’s even got boobs!”

Rachael got red faced and screamed, “Stacy, you dork! Shut up!”, but there was a shy smile on her face as the two other females in the room giggled at her embarrassment.

Stacy turned her attention to the phone again, “So wada ya think, Mom?”

Linda was at a loss for words, “I’m stunned, sweetie… Just stunned. You two have grown up so much and you are both so beautiful. I’m so proud. I wish I was there with you.”

Linda kept pulling the phone away from her ear to look at the pictures of her children whom she now missed more than anything. Her heart ached with regret and longing. Then the details of the pictures began to filter through her tear filled eyes. “Why are you two all dressed up? You can’t both be going to prom are you?”

Stacy had effectively hooked her Mom and was now ready to really start the nose rubbing. “No, Mom. It’s even cooler than that. You remember the annual party that you always went nuts about and you and Dad never got invited to? You know. The Sedgewick-McTaggert Welcome to Summer Formal.”

Linda responded immediately, “Of course, I remember. It was always the social event of the year. Damn, I would have given my eye teeth to go to that formal. Only the most powerful, beautiful people in the whole state were invited. I wanted so much to be able to get all dressed up in a formal gown and rub elbows with the social elite. I would have so loved that.”, Linda sighed and then quickly broke out of her imaginary vision. “Oh, my God, did you and Rachael get a job acting as hostesses or wait-staff for that party? Wow, that is amazing! I’m so proud of you two. To think my daughters are actually going to get to be there among the beautiful people. I’m jealous!”, Linda gushed breathlessly.

“No, Mom we are not part of the wait-staff. We are invited guests. As a matter of fact, we get to sit at the head table because Daddy is the guest of honor! It’s a surprise for him, but Daddy is also going to get roasted! Isn’t that like just too cool! I even get to be one of the roasters! I am soooo nervous but also so excited.”

Linda was dumbfounded,”What? You’re kidding right? You have to be kidding. Why would a lowly Cost Containment Clerk get invited to the Welcome to Summer Formal much less be the guest of honor? That just doesn’t happen in real life. You’re lying to me aren’t you?”

“Yeah, right Mom. Rachael and I get all dressed up each day just on the off chance that you would call so we could yank your chain. Get real, Mom. A lot has changed since you abandoned us. We were very hurt, no, we were all devastated; but, Dad pulled us all together, even Josh, and somehow made a new life for us. Maybe I should bring you up to date on what’s happened since you dumped us. This will have to be quick because the limo should be back with Fauna and Josh in about 15 minutes and then we will have to leave.”

Stacy sighed deeply to quell her anger before she began her narrative of their life ‘after Mom’. “Dad was pretty much destroyed when he found out you were ‘doing it’ with some old fart in your and his bed. You kinda disappeared right after he found out and confronted you so I guess you were already planning to leave but the date just got pushed up a bit.”

Linda interrupted Stacy to whisper, “I’m sorry, Stacy. I didn’t know you knew what happened between your Dad and I, but yes, after your Dad knew, I felt I had to leave. What was the point in staying. I mean, my God, he even had pictures of us! Frank and I decided to leave town and go to his Manhattan apartment and that’s where we’ve been ever since.” I’m sorry your Dad decided to tell you about what happened. I think that was kind of low to involve you kids.”

“Horse shit, Mom! That is just pure horse shit.”, Stacy tried to get her rising temper back under control. She took a deep breath and continued, “Dad didn’t tell us. I told him! Who do you think took the pictures? Duhhh!

Rachael and I came home and everything was quiet except for some weird noises I heard coming from your bedroom. I told Rachael to wait downstairs and I went up quietly to investigate. When I saw what you were doing, I grabbed your cell phone, took a few pictures and sent them to Dad. Then Rachael and I left and went over to a friends house. By the time Rachael and I came home that night you had locked yourself in the bedroom and never came out but we could hear you crying. You were gone by the next morning. The last image I have of my ‘loving’ mother was of her on her back under some old guy in my Dad’s bedroom. Tell me that didn’t take therapy to get the images out of my head. I’m glad you at least had covers over your bodies or I would probably be in therapy even now.”

“I can’t believe you are the one who betrayed me, Stacy. How could you do that?”

“I don’t think this is the time or place to trade shots about betrayal, Mother. It would be a pretty uneven match, don’t you think? I’ll put my fire hose up against your squirt gun any day and we won’t even talk about Rach and Josh’s stuff. So do you want a recap of the last three years or not?”, Stacy was actually marveling at her own self control and her handling of this situation. The thought crossed her mind that she had really grown and matured in the last few years.

Linda understood at that moment that to have any kind of relationship with her children she was going to have to walk through the hell of facing responsibility for her actions and the outcome of those actions. This was not going to be some easy task. Not something a few gifts and trips would automatically fix. Her children had had to accept and adapt to a life without her in it. She wanted to know how they had fared but to do that she would have to hear how they felt about her decisions and choices. Did they all hate her? No time for running now. If she backed away now she would most likely lose them, probably forever, but if she wanted to reconnect she would have to accept their feelings and feel their fire. Was she up for this? Was any of this worth the pain she knew would come later?

Linda steeled herself. Her voice was soft and contrite, “Yes, Stacy you are absolutely right. We will have to have those kinds of discussions at some time, I suppose, but for right now we need to be back on some kind of reasonable speaking terms. I called to reestablish contact with my children and this will be a good first step. So let me hear what your lives have been like after I left.”

“Mom, you just won’t believe it. It’s like something out of a story, like a fairy tale, even. Anyway, Dad went into a real funk for a few months and it was really bad. A lot of days, Rachael and I would come home from school and I would make her stay outside while I went in and checked to be sure that I wouldn’t find Dad dead or something. Every time the phone would ring, I would jump thinking it was the police or hospital or something. I told Josh he needed to step up and quit drinking and partying because I couldn’t be the only one trying to hold on. He did try, I think, but he wasn’t much help. Finally, Dad started reading books on surviving breakups, grief and stuff. A lot of nights he would just lock himself in the bedroom and we would hear the clicking of the keyboard keys on the computer. He was writing which I think helped him a lot. Remember how overweight he had gotten? Well, one day he started getting up early to run and he even dusted off the treadmill and the weight machine thingy and started using them. I thought he was trying to beat himself back into living again.” Stacy paused and thought for a moment then she said, “I know you probably don’t want to know all this stuff about Dad, but it really is important in the whole scheme of things. So, sorry if it’s not what you wanted to hear about. By the way, he’s looking pretty hot now.”

“No, no that’s okay honey, I do need to hear about this, but thanks for caring enough to put that in perspective for me. I do want to know how you, Rachael and Josh are doing mostly.

“Well, Rachael’s an easy one. She just kind of pulled herself into a shell and stayed there for a while. She’s pretty much come around now and you wouldn’t believe how well she’s doing. A lot of that has to do with Janice. She and Rachael have really clicked.”

Linda looked at the picture on her phone again and took special note of the woman helping Rachael get ready. “Okay, who is Janice exactly?”

“Oh, sorry, Mom. Janice is Dad’s girlfriend. Isn’t she gorgeous? … And she’s so sweet. She’s a former swimsuit model and still does fashion modeling. She’s really helped Rachael come out of her shell and now she’s helping Rachael get started in the modeling world. … Oh, Mom! You have to get a copy of last month’s Teen Fashion World magazine. Rachael is on the front cover and she looks absolutely amazing! She is really becoming quite in demand as a model.”

“What! How… When did this all happen? Your Father hooks up with a girl half his age and now she’s pimping your sister out to photographers! If I find out she’s doing any cheesecake photos I will have Dad and Janet or what ever her name is up on charges.”, Linda was close to hyperventilating now.

Stacy waited to bring some calm to the situation (with an awareness that she knew where she probably inherited her temper), then she spoke very softly for effect, “Mother, Daddy and Janice are very, very protective and careful about any modeling work Rachael or I do. At least one of them is at every shoot, they insist on the photographer signing an iron clad contract with Dad and not one photo gets taken without Dad’s review and permission. Do you really think Dad would allow anything remotely close to ‘cheesecake’ for either of us? He won’t even allow her in a swim suit shot. As for Dad’s girlfriend. Janice is her name, she’s 34 years old so there is 11 years difference between her and Daddy. That’s a LOT fewer years than you and Franky, who is what? 100? I don’t know if they will ever get married but they are cute together and she has helped him a lot. She even says nice things about him once in a while so he seems pretty happy. Happier than I have EVER seen him, in fact.”

“Frank is only 66 to my 43, Stacy.”, Linda interjected hastily. “I’m just not sure if modeling is a good life choice for Rachael, it’s certainly nothing I would have allowed. She needs something more dignified to do with her life.”

Stacy bit her tongue to keep from saying something like, “Dignified? Like dumping your family to become some arm ornament for some 66 year old rich guy.”, so she pressed on, ignoring the interruption.

“Modeling has done great things for Rachael, Mom. She is not nearly as shy. She now carries herself with an air of confidence and poise that she never had. She finally knows who she is, what she can accomplish and what she is good at. She even directs or suggests theme poses for some of her shoots. Let’s face it Mom, Rachael has never been great academically and always considered herself a loser because she felt she had a bleak future. Now, she may be a world class fashion model before she graduates from high school and have a bank account that even YOU would be proud of. Before you ask, yes, I said I am modeling too, but I’m not so much into it. Rach and I do fashion stuff together where I am sort of an extra to highlight her or wear different patterns or colors of an outfit set we’re showcasing. The best part is that Rach and I have gotten really close because we are helping each other and working together. I get paid pretty well also so I am saving a lot of money towards college. School is still my thing so I’m doing well. I’ve been taking a few extra courses each semester so I can graduate early and start college sooner. I’m still holding my ‘A’ average but I’m a bit worried about chemistry this year. It’s a butt kicker but I need it if I’m going to get into veterinary school.”

“Oh! Mom! You won’t believe this. Rach and I get to keep the outfits we model so I actually have a wardrobe now! Can you believe it! I’m actually one of the best dressed in my class instead of ‘Miss Geekazoid’. A lot of the ‘too cool for you’ girls in my class ask ME for fashion advice and some even have asked for my autograph!! Isn’t that just too sick? I’m like almost popular. The best part is that the guys are starting to notice me.”, Stacy giggled.

This was all very disturbing to Linda who had always struggled to achieve some undefined level of social strata. She had left her family behind to achieve social acceptance and it seemed most of her family members had achieved lofty heights without her. To make the cut even deeper, they had accomplished this with seemingly no effort!

Linda sighed heavily, “I’m thrilled you and your sister have done so well, Sweetie. So, although I’m afraid to ask, how is Josh doing? Is my boy okay?”

Stacy took a deep breath and checked the clock on her night stand to see how much time she thought she had knowing that soon the limo would return with Josh and Fauna. She didn’t want to get into the next topic and run out of time before she finished. She noted that she probably had enough time. “Well, Mom, surprisingly I have to admit that Josh has turned a corner on getting his life on track. He was pretty wild, as you know, before you left and continued his drinking and hanging out with his friends after you left. He even got worse for a while. Daddy finally jumped down his throat and demanded that he quit partying and at least find a job or go back to school. Josh told him where to go so Daddy finally threw him out and told him not to come back until he had a job. Daddy even had the police remove him from the house a couple of times.”

“What! Your asshole father threw my baby boy out of the house! How dare he! I’ll have Frank contact a lawyer and sue that prick!”, Linda huffed.

“Good luck with that, Mom.”, Stacy said shaking her head. She knew her mother always considered Josh to be her favorite and let him get way with anything. She also knew that Linda supported his antics by slipping him money whenever he asked for it. He was actually pretty lucky that he never got arrested or in serious trouble.

“That was a year and a half ago, Mom, and Josh and Dad have pretty much come to terms since then. Josh mooched off of his friends for a while and even they got tired of supporting his lazy ass so they dumped him. He was on the street for a while and finally decided he didn’t like life there, especially when he saw the three of us doing okay. He came to Dad and apologized and wanted to move back home. Dad kept with the ‘get a job first’ position so Josh got a job working on roofing. He finally moved back home but Dad made him pay his own way to show him what being an adult was about. It was sort of funny listening to him moan about the hard work and having to pay for food, rent and his car and not having any money afterward. Dad always would tell him that’s the way of the real world and get used to it. It pretty much went on like that for about a year until Fauna came along.”

“Don’t tell me your Dad has another girlfriend. Who is Fauna?”

Stacy laughed. “No, Mom, Fauna is Dad’s personal assistant. She is one sharp cookie and doesn’t put up with any shit from anyone. Dad always refers to her as his boss. She is only 22 years old but she really has her act together. She actually met Dad at a convention he was working in Minneapolis. She walked up to him, shook his hand and told him he needed to hire her to make all travel arrangements, bookings and manage his expenses if he wanted to be a REAL success. She then handed him her resume and told him to call her when he was ready to take his career seriously. Dad hired her on the spot. She lives here with us so Dad jokes about having his harem to deal with. She really has been instrumental in helping Dad get his career off the ground. She is like having my very own big sister and we all love her. She’s a real Norwegian cutie. She’s about 5′ 7 with short blond hair and baby blue eyes. Josh took one look at her and fell in love. She told Josh she wouldn’t date anyone that wasn’t going somewhere with his life so all of a sudden Josh got motivated. Mom, Josh enlisted in the Air Force four months ago and is soon to be headed to Monterey, California to language school where he will be learning Russian, I think.”

“What!!? Air Force? Language School? RUSSIAN!!? Holy shit!”, Linda was aghast; this was too much.

Chuckling at her mother’s reaction, Stacy pressed on, “Wild, huh? He’s at Lackland, Air Force Base waiting for his security clearance to be completed so Dad asked him if he could take some leave to come home to visit and go to the party. Fauna is softening up to him but still won’t admit that they are an item. But us girls can tell she is hooked. She doesn’t date anyone else and they talk on the phone for hours when they can. It’s so cute. Josh is like… smitten. He has a plan to finish language school and go to college to get his degree and become an officer. Can you believe that! My nutso brother a military officer! Just too weird! It’s strange what love will make you do, isn’t it?”, Stacy smiled at her own little dig at her Mom while innocently discussing her brother’s future plans.

Abruptly a baritone voice began singing out “The Impossible Dream” in the background. Stacy laughed and stepped into the hallway outside her bedroom. “Oh, Mom you gotta hear this.” She held out her phone in the direction of the voice as a series of wolf howls and groans were heard from very feminine voices. Rachael yelled out with a chuckle in her voice, “Daddy! Sing my favorite song ‘Far Far Away’. On second thought just go sing far far away.” Janice joined in with, “Don’t quit your day job!” Stacy followed up with, “Daddy, why don’t you take it on the road. I think there’s a bus leaving in 10 minutes!” The girls could be heard laughing in the background as Ed was heard saying, “You girls are killing me! I get no respect. My own family… That does it. You are all off my Christmas list!” More laughter was followed by a female chorus of “We love you, Daddy!” and a male promise that okay they were back on the Christmas list.

Stacy came back on the phone laughing, “He’s so funny. He always sings when he’s happy or gets excited nerves and we always give him a hard time about it. It’s a little game we play.”

“Oh.”, was all Linda could say. It was evident that her family had moved on without her. She was subconsciously hoping they would somehow still be hurting because of missing her. She then fell silent.

Stacy picked up the ball of conversation and continued her narrative. “Daddy doesn’t know he’s the guest of honor tonight but he’s a bit nervous because he and Jack McTaggert are going to play a couple of guitar duos with the band. You know Daddy and his blues guitar stuff. After he and Jack became sort of buddies they both discovered they love to play guitar and they get together pretty much weekly to practice and drink a little beer. They joke about becoming rock stars . They’re actually pretty good but they just do it for fun. Tonight is their first public gig and should be a hoot. Can you picture Dad in a tux playing guitar on a stage?” Stacy chuckled with that visual in her mind’s eye.

Linda was again floored. “Your Dad and John McTaggert are friends? THE John McTaggert? How did that come about?”

Stacy smiled to herself. She knew that her Mom held the McTaggerts in high esteem because of their wealth and power. She also knew that her Mother had always wanted to just meet the McTaggerts and here her Dad and Jack McTaggert had not only met but were now pretty much ‘best buds’. Stacy also relished the fact that he had insisted that all the family call him Jack instead of the formal Mr. McTaggert. He was a pretty nice guy who had been instrumental in launching Ed’s writing career.

“Yes Mom. THE John, or Jack as his close friends call him, McTaggert. It all started when Daddy wrote a couple of articles about surviving and rebuilding life after a traumatic event like losing everything when a cheating wife dumps you and runs off with her boy-friend. Dad was thrilled when a couple of small magazines bought the articles for publication. Jack read the articles I guess, contacted Daddy and asked him to be a featured motivational speaker at one of the McTaggert corporate employee meetings. We thought Dad was going to have a heart attack. He developed a lecture from his articles and delivered it at their meeting. The speech went well so Jack hired Daddy again to speak at their annual stockholders meeting. Daddy got offers to speak at other meetings for companies represented by the board of directors and things sort of took off from there. Dad started writing more and more and better known magazines picked up his articles and soon he quit his job to devote all his time to writing and speaking. Jack kept introducing Daddy to important people and they started hanging out and they soon discovered they both had a love of playing blues and rock guitar. They have been buds ever since.”

Stacy paused a long time to give her Mother time to digest all that had transpired. It was after all an amazing turn of events.

“Your father is now a writer? … An author? … A published writer? Your father, my ex-husband, is a published author?”, Linda struggled to get her head around the far-fetched concept of her ‘loser ex’ becoming a success. She secretly hoped that it didn’t pay all that well.

There was a sound of activity coming from the main floor of the house. People arriving, murmured discussion and light laughter. A strong new male voice could be heard as well as a much softer female voice. Stacy could see Janice leaving Rachael’s room and walking towards the stairway leading to the main level. It was easy to surmise that she was heading downstairs to play hostess to the new arrivals.

Stacy suddenly remembered the step in tonights activity plan that she had forgotten. “Mom. I’m going to have to go pretty soon. Jack and Mona McTaggert are here with the photographers to take pictures for the newspaper society page and the coffee table picture album they publish and sell every year about the ‘magical time’ people had at the Summer Formal. It kind of makes me want to barf but I guess the book brings in a lot of money for charity and us attendees get to feel warm and fuzzy and good about ourselves.” Stacy said this with more than a little bit of sarcasm because she did find it over the top and self indulgent. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that her Father’s achievements had suddenly elevated their family to a place where others (especially her wayward Mother) would regard them with esteem.

Linda was quick to defend the practice. “Oh, Stacy don’t take it so lightly. It’s a great honor and privilege to be in that book and to know you took part in an historic event. You should be absolutely thrilled you get to be an attendee. Since you will be at the head table, your pictures will be on almost every page! I secretly bought one of those books almost every year and this year I’ll be able to point at pictures of Josh, you and Rachael and say ‘See these special people. They are my kids.’ I’m actually very jealous but very proud at the same time. I’m definitely putting in my order for several copies of the book as soon as they come out.”

“Okay, Mom. … Oh! Hey. Daddy is doing some kind of writer thingy in New York over Labor Day weekend and Rachael, Janice, Fauna and I were going with him. Maybe we can plan on getting together then. I really would like to see you and I’m sure I can get Rachael to come too, but you need to know that she is still pretty pissed at you for leaving. Maybe we can bring Janice with us so you can meet her. Ummm, would you want to see Daddy, also?”

“Oh, sweetie! That’s a fabulous idea! Yes, yes lets put something together. I definitely want to see you and Rach but your Dad and his slu… ummm, girlfriend I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Too much pain there from both sides I’m sure. I would like you to meet Frank, however; after all he is your step-father now.”

Stacy stuck her finger in her wide open mouth with her tongue sticking out feigning gagging and said, “No, Mom. I still have nightmares about you and Frank doing the nasty so the only way I will meet Frank and you is if Daddy and Janice are there. I think it’s only fair.”

“We’ll see what works, Stacy, but let’s not let that upset the overall purpose which is for us to see each other. I am already excited about seeing you and Rach again so let’s concentrate on that. Coincidently, Frank is using his influence to get us tickets for a Meet the Author Day put on by the New York Literary Guild over that weekend also. I will press him to get tickets for us all. It should prove to be a very prestigious event. Several novelists will be on hand to sign books and meet and greet. Frank is very excited. David Vulcez has committed to being there and Frank is absolutely giddy to meet him. David is a new novelist and Frank says his first book is absolutely brilliant. I know the coasts generally become aware of the newest trends and happenings before the mid-west gets to hear about them but by chance have you heard of David?”

Stacy picked up on the somewhat condescending tone in her Mother’s statement and couldn’t help but laugh and decided to give it right back. “Yes, Mother. I have heard of David Vulcez. As a matter of fact, I’ve met him on a number of occasions. Yes, I agree his work is quite brilliant. I read his book a while ago and found it to be quite…, how should I say, provocative. Have you read his book, Mom?”

Linda was taken aback by Stacy’s quip but decided not to react. “No, I can’t honestly say that I have. I’m not much of a fan of that type of reading but Frank definitely is a fan.”

Stacy was now laughing and almost said something about there not being enough pictures in the book for her Mom’s literary tastes but she refrained, “Mom, do you have a hard or soft bound copy of David’s book available?”

Linda looked around and then stepped into Frank’s study. “Ummmm, yes! I have his hardbound copy right here on Frank’s desk. Why do you ask?”

“Mom, look at the back inner flap of the dust cover and tell me what you see.”

“Ummm there’s a picture of the auth… Oh, my God! It’s Ed!!! Oh, my God. It’s the picture I took of your father about seven or eight years ago! Jesus! How can this be? This can’t be David Vulcez. Your father is NOT David Vulcez. Please tell me this is some mistake.”

Stacy was still laughing and trying not to choke as the full impact of the irony kept bombarding her thoughts, “No can do, Mother. Yes, yes and yes, David Vulcez is really Edward J. Mercer. When Daddy decided to write a novel he wanted to keep his different writing purposes separate for a number of reasons so he came up with a pen name and released his first novel under the name of David Vulcez. This is just too funny. Your husband’s favorite author is your ex-husband. That is just hilarious. This is too good. They ought to make a movie. I can’t believe this. No one could make this shit up. Oh, damn this is too funny.”

Linda just sat sullenly and finally just said softly, “Shit.”

Stacy needed to go so she just said, still laughing, “I have to go Mom, I’ll text you my email address and you can send me yours and we’ll get our plans worked out for Labor Day weekend. I’m so glad you called and I really am excited about seeing you again. I love you, Mom. Still too funny.”

Linda just offered, “Tell you brother and sister I said ‘Hi’ and give them my number so they can call me when they get a chance. I love you too Stacy.”

Stacy went downstairs still laughing about the implications of this recent turn of events and prepared to go through the motions of having photos taken for the society gawkers. She knew she would have no trouble smiling brightly but only she would know why (for the time being).

Linda sat deep in thought for a long time and came to the realization that karma was indeed a vengeful bitch. She was still reeling from her conversation with Stacy when Frank nearly bounded into the room.

“Linda! You are not going to believe this! I just got a card from David Vulcez! I wrote to him telling him how much I enjoyed his book and how I really looked forward to meeting him in September. He actually wrote back to me and says … in his own handwriting, no less…”

Dear Frank,

You have no idea how thrilled I am that you read and liked my first novel. Although you may not know it, you have made a very positive impact on my life and my career. I don’t know that I can ever thank you enough so I look forward to the possibility of thanking you in person. You have lifted a great weight off my shoulders and provided a much needed spark in my growth as a human being and a writer. I am deeply indebted to you.

Best wishes,

David Vulcez

Frank continued babbling his enthusiastic joy, gushing about how he must have met David at some time, his picture looked somehow familiar but he couldn’t place where he had seen him. He now could not wait to meet and hoped to become good friends with his newest favorite author.

Linda just continued to become more and more sullen and depressed as Frank’s words faded deeper and deeper from her awareness. Finally, in a raspy dry throated voice she just softly said, “Shut up, Frank. Just shut the fuck up.”

Going Home

Posted on September 16, 2011 by dadgad69

I rose from the jump seat that hot August day,
to a strange, foreign land a half globe away.
I thought to myself, “This place smells like shit”,
But too numb to say or think more on it.
The air was heavy, so humid, so thick;
I feared I’d collapse before walking a click.
Departing the plane we were ordered to stand;
Forming two ranks by a shouted command.
“Attenn-hut! Salute!” Came the ordering cry,
We snapped to respect without knowing why.

Facing the gang plank, in withering heat
Wondering what “lifer” we’d been pressed to greet.
Fighter jet banshees screamed by so loud;
As we sweat in silence, our minds in a cloud.
Trucks moved in slowly and stopped near our plane;
We stiffened salutes knowing we’re in the game.
Men jumped down quickly to the loading prepare,
No lifers? No hotshots? No big-wigs were there.
Only just boxes… handled gently with care.
Long silver boxes took the seats we left there;
As we watched and saluted and stood there steadfast.
The boxes were carried, through our vigil they passed.
We all too soon knew without utterance of sound;
The reason our lines were formed and held round.

Our brothers were leaving.

Paying most dear for debts ne’er they owed;
Keeping promises, tending gardens others had sowed.
For honor? For glory? For country? For king?
Throughout our land, let freedom ring!
Silver buttons, colored ribbons, spit shine on boot
They’re sent off with fanfare, their questions stay mute.
Will I run?
Will I cry?
Will I show my fear?
Will I let my friends down or do great things here?
These are the unspoken, the worries, the fears.
Those nagging whispers they hide from their peers.

They are going home.

Not to hear speeches or fanfare or praise;
Not to hear taps as they’re placed in their graves.
Not to get married, have children, dreams fulfilled;
But wait in our shadows, their gardens untilled.

They can never be home.

The procession continued… 10, 15, 20;
We stood in our ranks, losing count of how many.
When all the neat boxes were draped in a flag,
I felt my knees weaken and started to gag;
but held my ground firmly, in honor of them.
Squared away shoulders, emotions died then.

Sleep well my brothers, your hell is over.

“Atten-hut! ….. At ease, men!”
Gasping for breath and sweating like rain;
We heard a voice call out a sardonic refrain:
“Welcome to Vietnam, gentlemen.”

(Our hell to begin)
+++++

So many years have passed since that day;
I boxed up those memories and stored them away.
Many worse memories are packed along side;
I wonder what’s real and what still I hide.
Long silver boxes locked up so tight;
But magically open on some sultry night
They dance in my visions, they fuck with my head;
They shriek in my nightmares, their screams I so dread
Blurred faces, names forgotten, emotions that died;
I walk through life feeling nothing inside.
Dreams were a cursed, wretched array,
Parades of dead warriors I’ve packed away.
Their faces sometimes vivid, their names on a wall;
I try to keep moving in spite of them all.

But sometimes I just can’t.

Curled in a ball, bitter tears, sweat and pain;
Why did I live? Was their sacrifice in vain?

No answer sounds.

But answers sometimes surface.

Quietly I hear them whisper their message.
I must be their voice, their breath in life’s passage.
I need to step forward, take up the reins.
To be their two hands, their heart and their brains.
So now I’ve a mission, my duty most clear.
To live for them, do my best, hold life dear.
Live in the present, bless their names best I can;
A beacon of compassion – give all what I can

I hope they know when good’s done in their name;
I hope they look fondly of the man I became.
Their life was not taken for some senseless cause,
Their spirit lives on and their love gives me pause.

They sacrificed their all for us…
We must live our best for them.

Sleep well my brothers, ‘til we meet again.

Stories, Poems and Ponderings

Vulcez

Monthly Archives: September 2011

The Letter

Choices Made

How Are You?

Going Home