I'd like to thank kenjisato, again, for great editing. If you find any mistakes, it's probably something I did after editing.
Active sexual activity only involves characters over the age of eighteen. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Names have been changed to protect the innocent and my bank account.
THE AUTUMN OF OUR LIVES
My name is James Spring, Jim, I live in an adult community of apartment condos that just recently went officially fifty-five-plus. There are a few of us who are grandfathered in because we were there before the official fifty-five-plus requirement came into effect. I just turned forty-seven, and there are a handful of residents, like me, who have owned our condos before the change.
I am the president and owner of my own home building, remodeling, and repair company; I took over for my dad right after he made it an LLC, we grew into one of the largest companies in the region— 'Spring Home Building and Remodeling'.
Mom died, from cancer, during my freshman year in college; Dad was gone a lot, I'd get messages from him through his secretary, Susan; a phone call at least once a week, and family get-togethers while in college.
******
I have a great staff that can run the company without me— my son, Lawrence, twenty-five, runs the day-to-day business of the company. His mother, my late first wife, died when he was just a toddler. He is married and has graced me with one grandchild, so far.
My first wife's name was Daisy. We were so much in love; we were high school sweethearts, got married while in college, and were so happy. I was working for a degree in Construction Management, Daisy was studying Elementary Education. After college, I went to work for dad, who started me at the bottom of the company ladder. He wanted me to have hands-on experience along with my 'book learned' college knowledge. Daisy became a kindergarten teacher. She instilled in me my love of flowers. Daisy taught one year before we welcomed our son.
Daisy named our son, Lawrence. She told me it was like a wreath of laurel, an Anglicized version of the French, Laurent, which was derived from the Latin, laurus— symbolizing victory, triumph, and success. That was what my Daisy said, and what she wanted. Daisy returned to teaching when were able to put Lawrence in daycare.
Lawrence was known as Larry by his friends and sisters, but for Daisy and me, he was Lawrence.
My families
Yes, I have three daughters along with my son, all half-siblings. Lawrence twenty-five, My girls— Rose, twenty-two; Lily, eighteen; and Violet, fifteen. And yes, the marriages were short. I do like flowers, and I was surprised when not one of the ex-wives caught on that the girls all had flower names, like my late first wife, Daisy, until it was too late to change them.
Lawrence and I lost Daisy
After Lawrence turned five, Daisy died with an undiagnosed heart defect. I woke up one morning to Daisy's cold body. The doctor was surprised she had lived through childbirth.
I became a single father, and I was overwhelmed. Daisy had been the mom, the 'main parent'; I was the breadwinner, I was Daisy's 'support personnel'— Daisy was in charge of our family. Be it only three in number. Overnight, I was then totally in charge of Lawrence and myself. I was lost.
Wife number two: Charlotte
After a little over a year, I met wife number two, Charlotte. She was a rebound from losing Daisy. We got 'married in a fever,' to quote Johnny Cash; Charlotte found out she was pregnant two months after the Vegas wedding. It was her parents who insisted on a prenup, so we signed a prenup drawn up by my lawyer.
When Charlotte found out that I did not own the company, she started to look for husband number two. She claimed postpartum depression and started 'seeing' a 'counselor'. It was not a counselor, but a guy she had hooked up with. One night, when I got home early, she was showering. I had planned to sneak in and shower with her, but I saw she had left a receipt from a 'no-tell motel' out on her dresser, while transferring purses. I quickly took a picture of it and gave it to my lawyer. Within a month, the private investigator my lawyer hired had all I needed to divorce her, and she really did not want custody.
Lawrence, Rose, and I became a family— one dad, two kids. Charlotte only saw Rose a few times after the divorce before she moved to another state; from then on, she was a 'post-office mamma'— birthday cards, Christmas cards with a few bucks tucked in. She would phone once in a blue moon. She did ask Rose to come to her wedding, but Rose came down with pneumonia and I had to put her in the hospital two days before we were going to drive to the wedding. Charlotte actually accused Rose of getting sick on purpose! After that, we never had contact except for the small child support check I would get intermittently.
I was doing okay; Dad paid me well, and he and his secretary, Susan, helped me many times.
Wife number three: Emily
You would have thought I had learned my lesson. I had met wife number three, Emily, at my local bar, where she was a waitress. When she 'heard' that I owned a construction company (dad had not made me a partner yet, so I was still only an employee), she caught me hook, line, and sinker, saying she loved my children. Again, I used my lawyer for the prenup.
She said she was on the pill, but we got pregnant right away. A month and a half after Lily was born, we had a fight, where Emily said, "Why don't we have more money? You own the damn company!"
"No, I don't own it, my dad does. I am just an employee!"
"No way!" She actually slapped me.
And stormed out of the house and went to the bar where we first met, leaving me with three children at home. One of her old boyfriends was at the bar. She did not know guys from one of my work crews were there; They were a very loyal group of men. The guys recognized her, but she didn't know any of the workers at my work.
When she started to get friendly with her old boyfriend, they took pictures. She went out to the parking lot and had sex with him in his car; they were so 'involved', you could have set off a firecracker next to the car and they would not have known. My crew got in touch with their inner Mission Impossible agents. They got a few compromising pictures, which included oral sex and a couple of her favorite sex positions without her knowing. The crew chief drove over to my house and showed me the pictures and told me the whole crew would testify if I wanted them to.
When Emily got home, she had a big smile on her face. "I am going to divorce you, you lied to me! You won't know what hit you." (I never said I owned the company.)
I said, "Fine," and told her to sleep in the guest room. She did.
The next day, I got up early and I dropped off the kids with dad, he and Susan were happy to watch them. I went to my lawyer with the pictures, and he drew up a divorce 'packet'. We knew the lawyer she was going to use, and my lawyer had her followed to his office. The timing was perfect, the process server walked in as Emily left the lawyer's inner office and served her right there! We served her first, so I was listed as the petitioner— just a psychological advantage.
When she saw the pictures, she fainted. We did find more shit covered by the prenup that just made the divorce for me 'better', my lawyer had enriched the prenup over the one I had before. Child custody was a slam dunk.
