Innocent Milf Ch 06

Chapter 6

It had been almost a month since the disastrous birthday party and Cary's decision to divorce Eric. Cary was moving out and into an apartment about ten minutes' drive from my house. Jack and I helped her to move while her piss-ant would-be pimp husband fumed and made snide implications about how we were getting reimbursed.

"The usual way," Jack answered brightly. "Pizza!" He seemed immune to the glowering and nearly palpable fog of poisonous jealousy that emanated from the guy. Maybe it was just that he was oblivious. It made sense, since I hadn't told him about the incident at Cary's birthday party (at her request). More and more it seemed as though what had been a triumvirate friendship had now branched off into two separate identities: one when the three of us were together and another when it was just Cary and me as best friends.

A couple of Cary's friends that I thought I recognized from her exhibition had also come along to help--mostly to pack and to offer Cary moral support. It might have been my imagination, but they seemed like they were going out of their way to be nice to me. Eventually, even Jack commented on it. "Jeez, what'd you do? Mow their lawns for free? Save their cats from a burning building?"

I shrugged. "Must be my boyish charm," I said lightly.

Jack snorted. "You have as much boyish charm as day-old roadkill."

"Sir, I have never been so insulted," I replied in a mock-southern accent. And since he was behind me on the ramp into the moving truck and he couldn't escape, I farted.

Cary's kids lounged around. Patrick--the nine-year-old--looked pensive. He was old enough to know that two Christmases wasn't an even trade for feeling stable. I hoped that living in a home where his mom wasn't constantly walking on eggshells would make up for it. Annie--the six-year-old--kept trying to play hide-and-seek with Jack and I until her asshole dad yelled at her. If I thought he'd had a shred of human decency, I might have felt bad for him.

But I knew better.

As we finished pushing a small bed frame--the last piece of furniture--into the moving truck, I saw him walking towards Cary. Both of her lady friends drew closer to her as if to protect her. Eric looked annoyed but made no comment. Jack and I stood nearby, ready to go. I found that I had crossed my arms.

"Jesus," Eric muttered, exasperated. "Tell your hired goons they can lay off."

"We're volunteer goons," Jack quipped, and hopped into the passenger seat of the truck, motioning for me to follow. "We'll meet you over there, Musketeer!"

Cary waved at him. I passed behind her as she shepherded her kids into the car. They hugged their dad and made "see you soon" sounds, as if they were about to leave on vacation. Neither of them looked particularly broken up about things, which I thought was an odd reaction to have. Her soon-to-be-ex husband barely spared them a glance but gave me an odd look. I wondered if Mike had told him that I had burst in on the intended gang-bang with a knife.

I made sure that we didn't take off until I saw Cary get into her car, close the door, and start driving. I didn't trust Eric as far as I could throw him. Based on some of the judo-like throws we had learned in knife-fighting practice, I figured that distance to be less than six feet.

During the drive over, Jack and I mostly quoted episodes of

Red Dwarf

to one another and joked about trying to get the moving truck into a drive-through. As usual, our conversation drifted through school, games, and Rendezvous prep. And, not surprisingly, Jack talked about Jenna. His face lit up as he did so, describing her volleyball games and how much fun she was.

The conversation hit a lull, and I could feel Jack's regard turn towards me as I drove. "So... what happened?" He gave me a moment to answer. When I didn't, he continued. "I know you know something. And I guess Cary told you to keep it quiet. But she really turned on a dime after her birthday party."

I could feel myself tense. A disheveled and sequined dress with its bodice askew loomed in my mind's eye beneath Cary's tousled auburn hair. With the retrospective knowledge that Mike hadn't gotten any further than a feel, the image made me both protective and horny. I shook my head, both in refusal and to clear it. "Nothing she'd appreciate me saying. But you and I were right--her husband is a total piece of shit."

Jack drew a breath as if to press the matter, but looked at my face and stopped. "Hmmm. That bad, huh? All right, fine. I guess it must have turned out okay in the end. But you

did

go to check on her, right?"

I nodded, and then decided that telling him about Eric cheating wouldn't hurt. As I told him about sneaking in, he started humming the

Red Dwarf

theme. I stopped the story to singsong along, "It's cold outside, no kind of atmosphere..." to describe being stuck outside the restaurant. The way I told the story, it was mostly about catching Eric, and then spiriting Cary away.

"Pity," Jack muttered as we got close to the address. "It could have been such a cool party if her husband wasn't such a tool." It took a moment for me to realize he still thought of it as sort of a harmless misfire populated in part by scantily-clad dancing women. I grunted noncommittally and concentrated on driving. For Cary and I, that night had been the articulation point in a seismic shift in our friendship--one whose end point I couldn't yet guess.

Cary's new apartment building looked pretty good. Besides some peeling paint on the bannisters and the railings of each individual balcony jutting out from the apartments' back doors, it looked like could have been built last year. A wide swath of lawn dotted with various picnic tables and firepits spread out behind it, so there would be room for us Three Musketeers to so some knife practice from time to time while Cary's kids played.

Cary's friends arrived, and I remembered that they were named Sami and Samantha--not confusing at all. They had come armed with keys while Cary took her kids out for lunch. Jack used the phone in the lobby to order pizza to the apartment (which didn't have a phone yet). And before we knew it, we were carrying boxes and furniture up three floors to her new digs.

It wasn't bad on the inside, either. Kitchenette, three bedrooms, space enough for a little dining area off the kitchen, and a large enough family room for the rest of the furniture. We unpacked what we could. I figured that Cary's bedroom would be the one with the balcony and the walk-in closet, and the kids could fight over the other two. Sami and Samantha directed placement of various boxes and furniture while they unpacked. Sami turned on a portable radio she had brought and after scanning through channels for a bit finally settled on the local classical music channel.

"Hope you boys don't mind a little culture," she said with a smirk, as if expecting a protest.

Jack shook his head. "No problem. This is

Symphonie Fantastique

, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, the one where the drums play the sound of the rolling head! I remember Mrs. Hathaway playing parts of this for us in sixth grade!"

"It's in that Julia Roberts movie that Cary liked," Jack replied.

"

Sleeping with the Enemy

," Sami and Samantha said in almost unison, and cackled. "I can't imagine why she'd like a movie where a lady gets to shoot her abusive ex-husband."

We chatted back and forth amiably after that while we continued to try to make some order out of the chaos we had trucked over. Jack and I joked and made the Patrick's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures fight each other, which probably dissolved any respect the two women had gained for us by our classical music recognition.

"Is this an Atari?" I asked, opening a box. "I didn't know Cary had one of these!"

Sami--the one who reminded me a little of the lady from

Blade Runner

but blonde--looked at the box. "Oh, yeah. I think she got that a while back after Patrick was born. I just found a box of cassettes or cartridges or something that probably go with that."

I shook my head in wonder. "I mean, she comes to the arcade with us, but I didn't have Cary figured as much of a video-gamer." I accepted the box that Sami handed me, and read some of the names of the cartridges off to Jack. "

Laser Gates

,

Space Invaders

,

E.T.

,

Ms. Pac-Man

--she had some fun ones! I remember these from when I was a kid!"

That statement caused Samantha and Sami to both chuckle, but they sobered up quickly. "She had a pretty rough patch with Eric around then, and it was hard for her to do a lot of painting with Patrick being so small and needing so much attention. So instead of watching TV, she decided to

play

TV. At least, that's what I remember her saying. Or something like that."

Jack turned a copy of

Pitfall

over in his hands. "I wonder if she still plays," he mused. I shrugged. It seemed like there was always something new and interesting to find out about Cary. We started to hang some of her pictures on the wall, but got distracted admiring and talking about them. Eventually, we convinced ourselves that Cary would probably prefer to choose a place for them herself.

"I've never seen this one before," I observed holding one up. It was unmistakably a picture of the antique Bowie knife Jack and I had given her for her birthday. It was plunged through a book with its pages facing up and the spine and cover obscured. The background was a strange amalgam of various objects--a pink dress, various necklaces, a cross, and other knickknacks.

Samantha took it from me and glanced at a penciled title on the back of the canvas. "

Lanced

," she read. "Odd name. I think I recognize some of the necklaces."

Jack and I exchanged a look. I would have bet money that the book our gifted knife was stabbing was

The Kama Sutra

. By the furrow in his brow, I guessed he was thinking the same thing. We went back to sorting and unpacking for a bit, and trying to figure out where to put the furniture.

Once the pizza arrived, we gathered around the newly-deposited table and ate while perusing a box of Cary's books. Some of them I recognized and smiled--

Deerslayer

,

the Hobbit

,

Wuthering Heights

, and

Dracula

. One of them looked vaguely familiar, with a verdant landscape and rawhide primitive tent on the cover.

"

Clan of the Cave Bear

?" I asked. "Didn't they make a movie about this a while back?"

Samantha nodded, mouth full of pepperoni. "Yep. Daryl Hannah. Kind of intense, if I remember."

"Not as much as the books," Sami added. "The later ones get pretty spicy. You can bet I won't let my daughter read

those

until she's in college."

"Looks like Cary has the whole series," Jack remarked, glancing in the box. "All four here in hardcover. We should ask what they're about and see if she gets embarrassed."

Sami chuckled. "You boys might not be able to handle it," she said. "Don't go asking questions you might regret."

Jack and I traded another look and shrugged. "I'll stick to William Johnstone and Hemingway," I said. "Unless I suddenly get interested in Cro Magnons."

Both women giggled, and I figured I had said something unintentionally funny.

Once Cary arrived, we had mostly finished arranging and unpacking her stuff. The pizza was gone, and we had settled into a discussion about books. It was sort of fun to nerd out about Stephen King with people who didn't feel like they had to pretend reading was boring like many of my high school friends did. Both of Cary's friends seemed mildly surprised that Jack and I were literate--as if high schoolers only played Super Nintendo and watched

The Simpsons

. Which of course we also did.

"You didn't tell me you made friends with members of the Junior Intelligentsia," Samantha accused. "These boys have

opinions

about literature."

"

Gravity's Rainbow

isn't really 'literature,'" I demurred.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "It was more like a test by Mr. Gollancz to try to get us to drop AP Lit. Freaking banana pancakes."

Sami folded her arms and looked at us. "

And

music.

Real

music! Where did you find guys this age who have heard of Vivaldi, Berlioz,

and

John Cougar Mellencamp?"

Cary smiled. "I told you, they're pretty special." She patted Annie's head absently as her daughter whirled around her, waving a toy fairy wand.

Jack looked at his watch. "Hey, dude, let's get going. Gotta return the van and then I'm headed over to Jenna's."

"I'm glad it's working out between you two," Cary said smugly. I wondered if she was also thinking of walking in on Jack and Jenna's passionate screwing a few months ago. Regardless, she looked happier than I had seen her--perhaps ever.

Jack nodded. "Sure is. Now if only Matt could find somebody to be with." Our bluegrass bassist Ty had been asking more often if I had a girlfriend recently as well. It was starting to get on my nerves.

Cary flushed. "Hey, I tried--"

"Don't worry about it. And Jack--Jesus, man. You and Ty. Give it a rest, huh? I'm fine." I waved at Cary as we left. "Happy New Apartment Day, Aramis! See you at knife practice Wednesday?" She nodded enthusiastically, bouncing a little on her toes. Sami and Samantha exchanged a look--I wondered if Jack and I looked like that when we were thinking the same thing.

And we settled into the last leg of the school year with our Third Musketeer safely away from her abusive husband, prospects for college looking good, and a summer full of knife fighting and a Mountain Man Rendezvous ahead of us. I had no idea what I was in for.

* * * * *

As March crept towards April, my workload at school lightened up. I basically didn't have any classes in the afternoons now, so Cary and I met pretty often at her favorite park to hike around and talk about things. Every time I pulled into the parking lot, I remembered Cary topless under my borrowed jacket trying to not to look intoxicated while the police officer shined a light in the windows and mistook us for the same age.

One day--warm enough that I didn't need a jacket--I met her there with Frosties and fries. She said she had some news for me--exciting secret news that I couldn't share with anybody else. Interest piqued, I could hardly wait when she bounced out of her car. She had bought new clothes since moving out of her husband's sphere of influence, and they looked good on her. I especially appreciated her increased tendency towards V-necks as the weather warmed.

"Out with it," I said, handing over her snacks. "You've been mysterious for a few days now. What's the big secret news?"

Cary grinned wickedly. "Eric's going to think I had an affair."

"What?" I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I faked some affairs." She looked both pleased with herself and a little embarrassed. "With multiple men. My girlfriends all helped me out. Eric is going to blow a gasket, but he won't be able to do anything about it, since it will all be anecdotal."

I shook my head, wondering. "He deserves it, the asshat. Does this have anything to do with how you checked into the hotel the night of your birthday party? And the camera?"

Cary's grin widened into the flash of a smile. "That's our Athos! Aren't

you

smart! I knew there was a reason I liked you." I flushed with pleasure as Cary continued. "That was sort of the beginning of it. But it kind of grew into a monster."

I sat back and listened to her story as we both enjoyed the sunshine and Wendy's Frosties.

=====

"Once I started to sober up, I got even madder at Eric than I had been at the party. The whole night was just such a debacle, and his disgusting plan to have me forced into serial-partner sex was just the final insult. I sat there shaking for almost an hour after you left--just really shivering so hard it was like I had hypothermia. There's a history I won't bother you with, but suffice it to say that this wasn't his first time trying something like this.

Finally Lori and Sami arrived at the hotel. You met Lori at the exhibition party, and then at your bluegrass gig: she was the one with the purse-guns and the fantastic hat. I see you smirking, but it

was

fantastic. I've always admired Lori's ability to just

go

for it, no matter what "it" was. Sami is a friend from the kids' school who helped me move. They both knew exactly what to do. After hugging me and letting me cry until I felt like there was nothing left inside me, Lori told me to take a long, hot shower, and Sami went for food.

So I did. I took another shower, and we stayed up eating popcorn and ice cream that they had brought. We agreed that all men were bastards--I

know

they're not, but it felt good to say at the moment--and we made some plans. You know, I did come to your defense, and said that you and Jack might be the only good ones out there.

"Give them time, they're young," is what Lori said. I don't think she ever really got over what Tom did to her.

You know that I'd already decided that I was going to try to give Eric a taste of his own medicine--make him squirm thinking that I had slept with somebody else without his input or control. That's why I had you buy the camera. I had some idea of trying to fake some pictures after you left, but I started shaking like a leaf--

Right, I've already told you that part. Anyway, Lori said "No half measures--I have some friends that owe me some favors," and we started planning. I have to say that I have rarely been so embarrassed in my life, but you'll see. Sami gave me some advice about where to get some of the costuming, even though it would be expensive. It was worth it. See, Lori has a few gay friends that she helped out in the past--just like she helped me out that night. And they were perfect for what I wanted to do.

I went home the next morning. Eric was so grateful that I came back at all and that I hadn't called the cops on Mike, he forgot to be mad at me at first. He was all excuses and apologies. It didn't matter; I knew it was only a matter of time before those turned into counter-accusations and dismissals. So even when he was being nice for the next few days, I knew it was just a phase: I'd seen his true colors too often.

I laid the groundwork. I made some phone calls from work, spent a week's worth of lunches looking for an acceptable apartment, and a week later as the insinuations about

my

fidelity and complaints about how much money he'd spent and how I owed him, and about me being an "ice queen" started, I was ready. I told him that it was over--that it had been over for a long time, but that it took his most recent spectacular stunt to really make it clear to me what I should do.

Oh, and I told him that I knew that he had been having sex with Sandra

while

he was at my birthday party. Can you believe that? At the same time as he was lining up a group of his buddies to force me, he was with the woman that he

swore

to me that he would never see again. It made me so mad! Mike let that slip while he... when he was... well, you know. And Sandra broke down and admitted it when I confronted her. Yeah, I finally just had it out with her face-to-face when she was leaving his office. There wasn't anything to hold me back, but by then I didn't really need to yell at her. I just told her that I knew, and had known for months, and that she wasn't even the first one.

That

got her attention. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when Eric tried to cozy up to her the next time.

Anyway, Eric tried to stop me--threats, whining, yelling. I told him that I already had a divorce lawyer set up and attestations from his friends from work who were afraid that they would be criminally prosecuted if they didn't cooperate. Oh, yeah. I did my homework. I wish you could have seen how Mike looked when I confronted him with threats of a lawyer. It wasn't quite the match of how he looked when you threatened him with my birthday knife--but close.