The settings in this story are incidental. The story is about the people, not where they live. Please read it that way.
*
I had thought that this day couldn't get any worse. Boy was I wrong. The whole week at work had been bad and to cap it off my boss, the president of the company, had called me into his office and chewed on my ass for for a mistake made by someone else. Now I get home and find my driveway blocked by my sister-in-laws car. I couldn't even park in front of my own house. The neighbors teenage son must have had friends over. There were cars lining the curb on either side of their house. I had to park three doors down.
I wasn't even sure why I was going to go into the house. My wife's sister Susan and I had never got along since the first day we met. I never understood why, but she seemed to hate me on sight. And I didn't think I was going to get lucky that night anyway. I hadn't had sex with my wife Janice in almost a month. Not for the lack of trying on my part.
As I got to my driveway I spotted the empty garbage can by the curb and drug it around the side of the house and through the side gate. I set the can next to the back door and stepped inside to the kitchen. I could hear music playing in the living room and the buzz of my wife and her sister talking. I reached into the refrigerator and took out a beer. Popping the top, I took a long swig of the cold brew before heading for the living room. Just as I got to the door I heard a sentence that stopped me cold in my tracks.
"God, he fucked me three times today." That wasn't my sister-in-laws voice but my loving wife's.
"Ever since Brandon came back last month I just can't get enough of his cock." I had never met Brandon but I knew that was the name of my wife's ex-boyfriend who had dumped her and moved away.
"So what are you going to do now?" my wife's sister asked.
"Brandon wants me to move in with him so I'll get a lawyer and file for divorce," Janice replied. "This is a community property state so I'll get half of everything."
I had heard enough. Numbly I walked to the back door and retraced my steps to my car. I opened the door and sat behind the wheel. I now realized why I hadn't been getting an pussy. My wife was giving it to someone else. Now she wanted half of everything. The worst part is the state would give it her.
Janice and I had married just three years ago. She had quit her job right after we said "I do." When she was home she never lifted a finger. I paid for a maid to come in three times a week to clean the house and do the laundry. She even cooked dinner for us on those days. The rest of the time either I cooked or she ordered out. Okay, I know what you're thinking, but I was in love and was wearing blinders. Sue me. She had kept me happy by providing good sex. That is up until a month ago.
My mother had died when I was thirteen. Both my father and I were crushed. She had been the center of our lives. It was hard at first but in time we managed to deal with our loss and go on with life. Dad did his best to raise me up right and I think he did a good job. We were very close and it came as a big blow when I lost him to the recklessness of a drunk driver. This happened when I was twenty three, a year before I met Janice.
Dad left everything to me. I inherited close to two and half million. A sizable sum but not all that great in this day and age of dot com millionaires. I had never touched the money, preferring to keep it invested. With the advice of a good broker I was able to make my nest egg grow, even in the current economy. I made enough I didn't have to spend it. And despite Janice trying to spend every dime I made, I had another hundred thousand in savings.
I was in love with Janice and we didn't have a prenuptial agreement. Like many men I was naive enough to think that my marriage would last forever. That mistake meant she stood to take me for almost a million and a half. And for what. For spreading her legs and letting me fuck her. And the state would give it to her. Talk about supporting legalized prostitution.
She had said she was going to get a lawyer which meant she wasn't yet ready to have me served. I still had time to act. I was starting to formulate a plan as I sat in my car. While I was thinking I kept my eyes on the rear view mirror and waited until I saw my sister-in-laws car back out and drive off. I started my car and did a u-turn and pulled back into my driveway. When I walked into the house Janice was no where in sight so I went into the kitchen for another beer. I popped the top and took another long pull on the brew.
"Oh, there you are, honey," Janice said coming into the kitchen. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Hello, dear. Just got home. Been a long day," I replied with a loving smile on my face. I would show her I could be just as good an actor as she was.
"I didn't have time to order anything for dinner," she said with a little pout.
What I wanted to say was, 'That's because you spent your day fucking your boyfriend and telling your sister all about it.' What I did say is, "That's okay, sweetie. I'll just heat up some of the left overs from last night."
Janice gave me a sweet smile and came over and kissed my cheek. "I'm going to go up and soak in a hot bath," she said.
I smiled and nodded. 'Yeah, got to wash all that cum out of your nasty cunt.' When she left I pulled out a box of fried rice and ate it cold as I sucked down two more beers. I tossed the empty container into the trash and went into the den to sit in my recliner. After surfing through thirty channels I settled on an old John Wayne western. Half an hour later Janice came back down and sat on the couch until the movie was over. She stood up and said she was tired and going to bed. 'Yeah, sure, tired from being a fucking cheating whore'. I told her sweetly that I was going to watch the news and then I would be up.
I hadn't really watched the movie. My mind had been occupied mulling over what I was going to do. I knew there was nothing I could do until Monday morning so I just had to get through the next few days. Saturday I worked in the yard and Sunday I played golf with a couple good buddies that I was going to miss. On Monday I called my broker who handled my inheritance portfolio and had him liquidate everything. One good thing about being in upper management was that I could cash in my 401K quickly. Fuck the penalty. By Thursday I was ready to make my move.
I went home to my loving wife and told her that there was an emergency situation and I would be flying out tomorrow on company business and I might be gone for a week. I packed two suitcases. That was all I was going to take. When we had moved into this house I had put everything that was important to me into storage. It wouldn't fit with 'her' decor so there wasn't anything else that I wanted. She had picked out the furnishings and I didn't give a shit about them.
The one good thing is that we were renting the house so I had no money tied up in it. I had recently sold my condo and we were looking for the "right" house to buy. When I say "right", I mean "right" according to her. So far the houses we had looked at "Just wasn't right."
So Friday morning I kissed my wife on the cheek one last time and carried my suitcases out the door. I loaded them into my Lexus and drove away without a single glance backwards. My first stop was to an old buddy of mine, Jake, who I trusted implicitly. He was flabbergasted when I told him I wanted to trade titles for his older model but rebuilt four wheel drive. I told him in confidence what I was doing and an hour later I was headed west. I doubted anyone would connect me to this vehicle and Jake said he would keep the car I traded him in the garage, out of sight for awhile.
For the next four days I paid cash as I went. I had canceled all our credit cards and I wasn't leaving a paper trail. The biggest portion of my money was now safely tucked away in an offshore account with the help of my broker. I had a system set up with my him to arrange a transfer of funds when necessary. I had enough cash, which I hid in the SUV, to last for awhile.
The nights alone in the motels were the worst. For the last week I had been too busy putting my plan into action to really give much thought about what had happened to me personally. I had loved Janice. I wouldn't have married her if I hadn't. I played the what if scenarios through my mind, but in the end I decided that there wasn't much I could have done different. Even if I had known her old boyfriend had returned I don't think I could have kept them apart. I reached two conclusions. The first is that I don't think she really ever loved me. I was just a meal ticket. The second one was that it was my fault for being stupid enough to marry her.
It was my fifth day away from home and I was sitting in a mom and pop diner in a small town in Montana. I was thinking about what my loving wife was doing, as surely by now she had found out that all her credit cards were canceled and our bank account had no money in it. My thoughts were interrupted by an older couple sitting at the next table over. Even though they were talking quietly I could overhear their words.
The man was telling the woman, who was obviously his wife, that he sure wished he could take on another hand. The problem was that until the current calves were ready for market they couldn't afford to hire anyone. Even then there wasn't anyone willing to work for what they could pay.
I gauged the man to be in his late fifties. Though mostly gray now, you could tell that he was born with dark hair. His wife was a striking red haired woman with crystal blue eyes.
I finished the last bite of my meal and stood up and approached their table.
"I'm apologize for eavesdropping on your conversation but maybe I can help you out," I said.
The older man looked me over sizing me up. "I don't see how you could do that. If you heard what we were talking about you know that I can't pay you anything."
"How about if I just need a place to bunk out in trade for my labor?" I asked. His eyes narrowed.
"Colleen, excuse us for a moment while I speak to this young man outside." He stood up and waited for me to follow him. Once we were out in the parking lot where no one could hear us he spun around. I gauged him to be about my height of six foot. His shoulders were broad and it didn't look to be an ounce of fat on him. His face was what women would think of as ruggedly handsome and showed the lines from years of working outdoors in the sun. His eyes were dark brown and almost piercing as they bore into me.
"Who the hell are you. Are you part of that Wilson bunch," he spat out.