I've loved my wife from the first time I looked into her beautiful emerald green eyes fifteen years ago. But, it doesn't stop me from looking at a good-looking girl that happens to walk by while we're in the mall. In reality, every guy does no matter what he tells his wife. However, it's what a guy does after that, is what makes him a loving husband or a cheating louse. I may ogle a bit, wonder what she looks like under that short skirt, but then I squeeze my wife's hand, grab a kiss, and count my blessings that I have her next to me. We're in it for the long haul and we both know it, because after having two kids what else could life throw at us that would change how we feel about each other?
Don't get me wrong; I'm no saint, far from it. And I've been reminded, on more than one occasion, that I still have a bit of a temper at times, but all in all my life is pretty normal. We live in your standard three/two house in one of the suburbs just out of the downtown area. We're your typical middle-aged family with two pre-teen kids, a cat and a dog I swear is friggen brain dead.
I'm a manager in a manufacturing plant twenty minutes from home and my wife works four days a week in a nearby dental office. She does the billing and keeps his records up to date on his computer. Life was pretty good until two months ago when we started to get a little slow at work.
When our backlog started to shrink, no one thought too much about it. Hell, it was only the first week of February and business was always slow at that time of the year. But, when it hadn't picked up by the end of March the powers to be started to get worried. Concern continued to grow because by summer we should have been slammed but weren't. We had enough work to keep busy but that was about it. Everyone was told to use their vacation on the books, to ease the manpower situation a bit, but it wasn't enough.
When September rolled around the general manager said that instead of laying off people, he were going to cut everyone's hours by ten percent. A few bitched, but most were happy no one was losing their jobs. My wife Monica and I cut back on a few extras and hardly noticed the loss of income; but it didn't get better, it only got worse.
Just after Thanksgiving, upper management laid off almost fifteen percent of our workforce, and cut everyone else's hours back by another ten percent. I hated to see those guys let go, because everyone knew one another, and we were all pretty tight. Everyone was still upbeat and said this was just a bump in the road, but it wasn't.
By the Holidays we were all sweating it. Business was dismal and when the plant decided to shut down for the two weeks between the holidays; I used the rest of my vacation and the sick time I'd accrued.
My wife and I scaled way back on Christmas, we had no choice. Our two kids, Jerome twelve and Terry ten, were give two gifts each, but Monica and I didn't exchange gifts for the first time ever. I spent many a night wondering what would happen if I got laid off but figured being a manager and with my seniority it would never happen.
After the first of the year we got a rush of orders and everyone figured the worst was over but it wasn't. Like us, our customers had let their inventories get too low and had to replace what had been sold, but that was all. They were now using us as their own personal warehouse and we only got orders to replace what they actually sold. It seems they all now wanted it at half the price and delivered yesterday.
Just before Valentine's Day half of the remaining crew was let go and the rest? Well we were put on half time four days a week. We'd been dipping into our savings every month to cover the short fall, but now we'd have to make some hard financial decisions.
I didn't have many toys, but what we had hit the auction block. With the economy in the toilet I got little more than half their purchased value. I was angry about having to sell them, and got even angrier at what I had to let them go for. I got hosed and the buyers got a great deal.
The credit cards were put away. I wanted to cut them up but Monica said we needed to keep them in case of emergencies. Stopping for a beer after work became a thing of the past and my Wednesday bowling night would never materialized this year.
Jerome's baseball and soccer teams would have to do without him this year and Terry's dance classes also were over until the economy improved.
When Monica was cut back to three days a week things got tighter if that was even possible. The two of us sat down one night and figured we had enough for the house payment and food that was it; there had to be more cut backs.
Both kids screamed when we had to cancel our cable and high-speed internet service. I gave up my cell phone but Monica kept hers because of the kids. Now, it became a real a treat to have dinner at McDonalds because that was about all we could afford now.
Since I was a kid, I'd hated hot dishes or casseroles, as some people called them. Real meat around our house was getting to be a rarity and tuna noodle and Hamburger Helper of all types is what I now saw in our pantry. A garden was planted and it became our children's job to tend it. I got tired of beans and rice and would have killed to have a juicy steak, but that wasn't in our budget any longer.
When the transmission went out on my truck it took most of our savings to fix it. For a couple of weeks I took Monica's car and she rode her bicycle to her job, but when she got caught in the rain half way to work, that ended that. We now had only a couple hundred dollars in the checking account and nothing in savings.
I didn't think it could get any worse but I was wrong. I was cut back again at work. I guess I was more than a little angry and as nicely as I could, I expressed my displeasure.
"Steve, be happy you've still got a damn job," I was told. That shut me up.
We weren't making it any longer and I was pissed most of the time now. Our sex life was the only thing they couldn't take away from me, or so I thought.
"Hon, we're going to be short about a hundred and fifty a month. Our property taxes are going up and All State just informed me that our house insurance is going up after the first of the year," my wife explained to me one night after the kids had gone to bed. We were screwed.
Monica got an evening job in retail for the Holidays. We had to inform our kids that there would be only one present each this year at Christmas and that it had to be under fifty dollars. They took it a lot better than I did.
With the extra money Monica earned we were again just making it, but she was so tired when she got home there was little if any lovemaking. A treat for her was when I'd rub her sore feet with lotion before she'd fall asleep on me.
When everyone who was left was given a two-week layoff I almost bit through my tongue, instead of losing it and saying something stupid again. The damn owner was still going out to lunch every day and when he drove in after the first of the year in a brand new car I about lost it.
I ranted and raved at home for two days, using language I probably shouldn't have in front of my kids, but I was at my wits end. "It wasn't fair, damn it, it just wasn't fair," but what was anymore.
In this economy, downsizing our house wasn't an option. We were flipped on it and even if we found someone to buy it, we couldn't come up with the down payment on another one, even if it was smaller.
Monica and I had never argued in the past, but now it seemed that no matter what I said, or did, it was wrong. Arguments became the norm rather than the exception. When our lovemaking went from three times a week to maybe once every three weeks; I began to give her a hard time about it. On night, after an unpleasant exchange, Monica informed me that if I was that horny, to go into the bathroom and use my hand; it erupted into the worst fight of our fifteen-year marriage. I wasn't a total asshole, but dug my heels in and said more than a few things I shouldn't have. In our three bedroom house there was no spare bedroom to go to, so at night when we went to bed, we were together yet apart.
After two more weeks of almost no talking, and no relief in sight, I sold the remaining items of any value; the gold watch Monica had given to me as a wedding present and my wedding ring itself. There was nothing left. The white ring around my finger stood out like a sore thumb and at dinner Monica noticed, but said nothing, at least then in front of our children.
"Where's your wedding ring Steve?" she asked, after Jerome and Terry were down for the night.
"Gone, along with my watch."
