This is a tale of infidelity but has only a little sex. When writing I find myself fascinated more with the human condition than the physical act of sex. After all, betrayal is still the most shocking transgression there is at any level and generates a pain that is hard to recover from.
I hope that you will enjoy this submission and I thank you in advance for good honest critiques of my work. For those of you who want to bash the characters based on your interpretation of their acts I would beg you to consider that each of us handles crisis in our own unique way. Some choose revenge while others choose a different option.
My name is Ken Wilson and I am now 51 years old as of this writing. My wife, Cathy is 45, still quite comely and our marriage has lasted through twenty four years of ups, downs and doldrums. All in all, I guess we were the average American couple.
Our life over the past twenty four years has produced a son, Martin who is now serving on a destroyer in the navy. Also, our home is now paid for and we have even managed to save a few bucks along the way.
Cathy works for an insurance company as a secretary and I work for a dying breed, an American manufacturing firm. I am strictly middle management, nothing spectacular, just another Joe doing his best to keep his job in a troubled economy.
As this title of the story implies, this is about two bitches. Let me start with the first one. Her name was Daisy and she was a mutt. My friend Tom who I used to have a drink with on Friday's informed me that he and his wife were splitting and that he was going out of state to interview for a new position. The problem was Daisy. The dog was almost three and was like his child. He didn't know what to do with her. If he got the new job he would most likely find an apartment and that would mean Daisy had to go. As I recall it he asked me as a favor to take the dog on a trial basis and if I did not love her to death in two weeks he would take her back on his return.
What could I do? I was trapped, he was my friend and he needed help so I reluctantly agreed. The next day was Saturday and he brought Daisy by with all her toys and food. Cathy was not too pleased but she understood the predicament I had gotten myself into.
Long story short, Tom was right about Daisy. I really did fall for the dog. She was loving and gentle and when you looked into her eyes you could sense a high degree of intelligence. I spoiled the dog rotten and within a few days we became inseparable. Cathy even commented that she now had a rival for my affections. We both laughed.
I was still perplexed however as to what to tell Tom. On the one hand I wanted to keep Daisy but on the other hand did I want the responsibility? The night before Tom was to return he called me to let me know that he got the job and had lined up an apartment that did not allow pets. The inevitable question arose when Tom asked, "Well Ken do you think you can keep Daisy?"
I came up with a solution that King Solomon would have been proud of. I replied, "I'll tell you what Tom, let's let Daisy decide." On the other end of the line I heard a somewhat confused Tom utter, "How do you propose we do that Ken?"
I outlined my plan for him, when he arrived he would not call the dog or make up to her, if after that I called her and she came back to me I would keep her. Tom agreed and told me he would be by around four.
The next day I swear Daisy seemed to know something was up as she was hyper all day long. Suddenly about four she started barking and a minute later Tom pulled into our yard. I let Daisy out the front door and she ran to Tom without a look backwards.
True to plan he did not pet her or acknowledge her but asked me what now. With that I cheerily called Daisy but she only turned and gave me a look that clearly showed she was not interested in coming back to me. I looked at Tom and replied, "Daisy made her choice, she wants someone else." Tom nodded sadly saying not to worry he had another option, then collected her stuff and left.
A couple of weeks later I learned that Tom had taken Daisy to the vets and had put her down. Somehow I felt guilty but not really as much as I should have. Daisy made her choice when she had ignored me and that's how the chips fell.
The dog made her choice and she paid the consequences. I know it sounds cold but that is the way I am. If you cross over a line with me I will have nothing more to do with you be it man or beast.
Time as always moved on. I was still trying to keep my job and praying the Chinese didn't grab too big a chunk of our market share. I really didn't want to find myself out of a job at my age. About this time Cathy was cut back in hours due to the recession hitting her company too. We took a hard look at our finances and decided we could still make do on what we were bringing in.
Generally, Cathy was now home two days a week and the weekends and that's when it started. Somehow she got interested in those do it yourself shows like yard bashers and this ole home. Within a month she was adamant that we repair and renovate the house.
I was able to hold her enthusiasm in check by telling her the amount of work involved, the hassle it would cause and more importantly, the money it would take to accomplish her plans.
Cathy would not be daunted and within a week she came back with the name of a private contractor given to her by one of the women at her job who raved about this man's abilities and low prices. She nearly pushed the card into my face and when I looked at it, it simply said,
Marc Braun, landscaping and renovations services.
I began to protest but Cathy cut me off, "No Don, this is something we have to do! The value of the house will decrease if we don't keep it up! Not just that, our neighbor's yards put us to shame! There is no discussion here we have to do this!" After taking a deep breath she continued in a less hostile manner, "Besides I called Mr. Braun and he is coming tomorrow morning to give me an estimate on fixing the sprinklers." When she was done she stared at me in a challenging way almost daring me to contradict her. What could I say; I shrugged my shoulders and replied in my most manly way, "OK. But don't be surprised when it costs you a lot more than we can pay!"
The next morning on my way to work I did take a look at the yard and the wife was right. The houses on our right and left were retirees who really took care of their property and ours did look rather shabby compared to theirs. Also, Cathy's argument of keeping up the property did make sense.
