A Tale of Two Sisters

A couple personal comments:

I've gotten several emails about the morose character of my earlier story 'The Dentist'. A few have expressed an interest in Eugenie's side of the tale. I've thought that over, and think it's worth doing. To be sure Eugenie was pretty despicable, but maybe if we heard her we'd be a little less ready to start picking up stones.

I have a couple more things too. I emailed Stang a few months back about adding to his story 'Circling the Drain'. He didn't say I couldn't so when that's finished I'll send it to him and see if he thinks it's OK. By the way; where has Stang been? I have two more interesting ideas outlined, and a couple things I never finished.

Well try this one out, and tell me what you think.

*****

Introduction.

This is the first of four parts. It is a tale of infidelity, sisterly tension, and a nice if somewhat stupid man. I fully expect the full range of comments and criticisms, but try to show some forbearance in the earlier parts as you might castigate me for something I've allowed for later. All the parts are complete. I'll add one a day until they're all on board. There shouldn't be any big surprises; some of the aspects of the story are pretty formulaic, at least up to a point. This isn't a deliberate 'get even-revenge' piece; no btb stuff as one would normally, and here would want to expect, but there's enough pain I think to satisfy even the most sanguine among readers.

It's a sad but happy piece; certainly no one would assert adultery and divorce are hoped for outcomes in any marriage, but there is always the possibility of redemption in the wake of any marital death. So Hope you read and enjoy it; expect the worst and hope for the best.

A Tale of Two Sisters. Two sisters and one guy.

There's a dark sky. It's Tuesday, October 9th, 2012; early autumn. I'm seated, scrunched down behind my car's steering wheel just a few spaces from the front of the apartment complex where my wife and I live. I just watched a guy I considered one of my 'so called' friends; not a best friend I say, leave by our front door.

The guy's name is Allen Peterson, and I'd bet a cookie to a doughnut the reason he's leaving now is he just finished screwing my wife. My name is Gary Matthews. Allen's just leaving, to him he's probably right on time; I'm supposed to be getting out of class just about now. Its 9:30 p.m. and class doesn't usually get out until 9:30. It's a night class; one of three I still need to complete as part of my physician's assistant's credentials.

Tonight when I got to the site where the class is convened I found out along with the other students the professor had been called away. As soon as we got the word I called my wife Marty. When I tried our land line it went to voice mail. When I called her cell she answered and told me she was at the Belk in Frederick looking for an outfit for a social gathering we were supposed to attend this Saturday. I decided not to tell her class had been cancelled.

Normally I would have told her class was out and then stopped a while to have a beer with a few fellow students. I would've tonight too except lately I've had this creepy feeling that something just wasn't quite right in the old love nest. I mean something wasn't right with Marty and me. Tonight when Marty picked up on her cell it just didn't sound like she was out someplace; it sounded like she was at home or maybe someplace else private and it seemed to me someone might be with her. I could've been wrong but now I know I wasn't.

My wife and I live west of Hagerstown, Maryland. The nearest Belk is in Frederick; a cool forty minutes from where we live. After I called it took me less than fifteen minutes to get to our front street. Her car was parked right where it was when I left, but right behind it was Allen's truck. That was over an hour ago. I've been sitting out front since a little before 8:00. He must have arrived right after I left.

I don't know how else to call it, but this is probably it; the end of what I thought was a happy marriage and a promising life. I can't say for certain, but the way things have been shaping lately I knew there was something. I guess I found out.

How do I know, or I should say what made me feel like she was fucking around? Where do I begin; let's see.

For one I attend classes two nights a week, that's Tuesday's and Thursday's. Until a short time ago I was always greeted with all this love and affection when I got home; since I'd say three maybe four weeks ago that stopped. Now when I get home she's either in bed, in the shower getting ready for bed, or waiting for me so she can pick a fight. I know a few weeks doesn't sound like very long, but we've only been married since June 2011; that's hardly been a year and a half. The honeymoon shouldn't be over yet; she certainly shouldn't be making up excuses or picking fights this soon.

Then there's the second thing. I'd say since August Marty's been getting steadily more irritable; like she's always trying to find fault, and it's not big things it's little things. She finds something stupid or irrelevant. She spots something, starts yelling, and then she'll use that as an excuse to avoid making love. Jesus she was so affectionate when we were dating and right after we got married. Damn, she was nothing but affection in July. It was August; yeah it was August when something started to happen.

That's two, then there's three; Marty works at the Hagerstown Walmart during the day where she kind of walks around stocking shelves and fronting stuff. Lately she'd gotten her hours all out of whack. I have no idea when she's on or off. If I bring her schedule up she gets nasty. I know this; she isn't working more hours, she's working less!

Then four! She's spending money! I mean she's spending lots of money; more money than we can afford. She's spending it on things she doesn't need like extra trips to the beauty parlor. The beauty parlor wouldn't bother me except I don't see any result. Her hair looks the same when she comes back as when she left. Shit she's only twenty-two; she doesn't need any dye jobs to hide the nonexistent grey, and her hair color hasn't changed. She's spending more money on clothes, clothes I never see, she seems to have more makeup lying around, and she spends more money on gas too. I know about the gas because I've seen the last two credit statements. I ought to check her mileage. I wonder where she's going.

Fifth back in July she couldn't get enough of me, but now when I try to snuggle up she acts like I'm trying to rape her. Lately when we do get close enough for a little sex she acts like she's either too tired or just plain bored. I never thought I was Don Juan, but back in July she sure acted like it. Now she acts like I'm some zombie from hell.

And then the other afternoon she started talking about how much she missed her girlfriends, and how she felt like she should spend more time with them. That made absolutely no sense to me since her girlfriends all work at the Walmart with her.

I work all day and some nights as an RN. In terms of education that was the best I could do; that's why I'm in night school so I can better myself. OK I know I work a lot, I know I'm not home as much as I could be, but I'm trying to get ahead. I mean I'm working hard and going to school for the two of us. She works hard too, or she did.

Then there's the sixth thing; I've been smelling alcohol on her breath lately, and I can smell smoke on her clothes too. I rarely drink, and before a few weeks ago Marty didn't either. Where is she going to get smoke on her clothes? I don't smoke. She doesn't smoke. I know; Allen smokes.

That's another thing I just thought of. We used to take showers together all the time. Now whenever I get home she's already washed up. Why's that?

Crap I don't want to be a snoop. I mean I know I'm supposed to trust her. She's my wife for Christ's sake. Look I know she's a good girl. Believe me I know she's a good girl. There's got to be some kind of rational explanation. Maybe she's planning something special for my birthday? I'd like to think that but my birthday's in May.

So put it all together; I've got an non-communicative wife who cuts me off when I get home after school, a surly bitch looking for trouble, someone who works all kinds of new hours I can't figure out, money that either gets misspent or simply hidden, there's alcohol on her breath and smoke on her clothes. Shit she's bought new clothes, pretty clothes I never knew anything about.

Talk about not knowing about anything. We used to talk all the time. We never talk anymore; plus I'm suffering from a severe lack of nookie, and there's too much money spent on gas. I've got to stop thinking about this. The more I think about it the worse it gets! Damn, put it altogether and we've got Travis Tritt's song "I smell t-r-o-u-b-l-e!"

I know if I brought this up with say her parents or her sister; her sister, there's a bitch! I mean a real bitch. I say Virna's her sister, now that's a bitch as in b-i-t-c-h! If I brought it up with any of them they'd probably say she's pregnant. Well guess what! Women don't get pregnant and still have their monthly period. Marty has a brother too, but he moved away. Actually he's in the navy.

What am I going to do? Well I know I'm not just running in there hollering and yelling and accusing her of shit I can't prove. I know something else too; if she is fucking Allen she's not getting away with it much longer. Well what do I do? I know one thing; I'm going to back up on this. I'm not some asshole. I've got to think this through.

++++++++++

See here, I live in western Maryland with my 'adoring beautiful young unfaithful wife' Marty. She's a hottie too; she stands a short 5'4", weighs in at maybe 120lbs, has black, I mean long and thick blue-black hair, nice tits, a great ass, and the greenest green eyes I ever saw. From what I've been told she was one popular little miss when she was in school; never got married though, that is never got married till she got me. She's got one hellishly vivacious personality. Everybody likes her. I mean everybody, well almost everybody, the bitch sister, yeah Virna, she hates her.

Me I'm not exactly ugly. I come in at 5'11", 180lbs., light brown hair, and brown eyes. I've got a good body. I mean I'm well built; that's because of where I'm from and what I did when I was growing up. I grew up on a farm on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. I don't know who my parents were; the only thing I've got from them is a name. I heard they were killed in an automobile accident outside Milford, Delaware.

Anyway there was this man who lived in Taylorsville just east of Ocean City. He found out about me and he and his wife agreed to take me in as a foster child. They raised me. I heard he wanted a son, but after two girls his wife cut him off so that's why they got me. Eventually he did get the boy he craved. Having a boy of his own blood didn't change anything; he treated me like I was his. He never adopted me though; I found out later as long as I was a foster kid they got some money. I couldn't blame them; they were poor as piss, but then all farmers poor mouth it.

Once I turned eighteen they could have given me their name, but by then I didn't want to, the state of Maryland had a program where kids like me got financial assistance if they continued their education after high school. They would have adopted me, but they didn't have any money, and I wanted a better education. I needed the grant money. I went to Salisbury University till what money I had ran out. I did get a nursing certificate. I really always wanted to be a doctor. I'm not done yet.

I won't say my foster dad was a tough task master; he was honest and even handed. Yeah he hit me just as hard with his left hand as he did with his right. I love those people; they didn't have to take me on, but they did. They fed me, cared for me, and I got a lot of love and attention. My biological mom and dad are dead, but my real life mom and dad are only a phone call away. That's where I'll start. I'll call them.

++++++++++

Hell before I do anything I have to go in that apartment.

I decided to wait a while. I drove around. I drove by her parents, I drove by Allen's, and then I drove over to the Eagle's Nest. The Eagle's Nest is a bar-restaurant not far from where I live. It's a real shit-hole. Virna my bitch sister-in-law works there.

Well I went in, sidled up to the bar, waved the bitch over and ordered a beer.

'Old Cow Eyes' took her good old time to get to me. She sort of smirked, "What another Pabst?"

I asked her, "What's wrong with Pabst?"

She kept that shit grin on her skanky face and replied, "You like to drink piss? Why don't you just go to the toilet and get it first-hand? It won't even cost you anything; just remember the wafer in the urinal isn't a mint."

I frowned and growled back, "Just get me the beer bitch."

She reached down and poured me a draft, "Here stupid."

I took it, drank it, smirked, and answered, "I wanted a bottle."

The lazy cow stepped a couple feet away, reached in the ice chest, pulled out a Pabst, twisted off the cap, walked back over and handed it to me, "There stupid I even opened it for you. I figure you don't have the strength or the brains to open an easy twist off cap."

I gulped a couple swallows and retorted, "I don't see how a sweet little thing like my Marty and a skanky cunt like you could be sisters."

She grimaced at me, "You are a stupid asshole."

She got me. I asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smirked again, "You really are stupid."

I got out my wallet, "What do I owe you?"

She flipped me the bird, "Nothing, consider this charity."

"Charity," I said, "I don't need any charity, certainly not from you."

She started to walk away toward another customer, as she walked she said, "You better get home asshole. It's late in the season; but still not too late for crabs."

I didn't want to continue the conversation, but I squeaked out anyway, "What do you mean by that?"

By then she was with the other customer. I overheard the guy ask, "Who's that?"

I heard her whisper, "Just my brother-in-law; the stupidest dip-shit in Hagerstown."

I heard the guy reply, "Wow."

I'd had enough of Virna. I so left. I still had an adulterous wife to contend with.

Virna has been a nettlesome bitch since I've known her. I'd met her before I met her sister; my wonderful cheating wife. For a while Virna and I had gotten along pretty well. I thought she liked me; then like almost overnight she just disappeared, she just dropped off the radar. There'd be family parties and she wouldn't be there. If I saw her out anywhere she either ignored me or was coldly polite. Then recently, since early summer I guess it was like she showed up again, only not in a friendly way. She's one strange woman. I shouldn't care; she's a fucking whore piece of shit.

++++++++++

When I got home Marty was at the kitchen table waiting for me, "Where've you been?"

"I stopped off with some of the fellas from class. We had a beer."

She reared back, "You lying bastard! Virna called me. You stopped in to see her."

'Shit,' I thought, 'I'd stopped to get a beer.' I told my wife, "Look honey I just stopped in for a beer. Believe me the last person I wanted to see was Virna."

Marty sort of hunched back. I didn't know; maybe she was going to fly into me, "You stay away from that bitch. Hear me?"

"Sure I..."

"Say it! Say you're going to stay away from her!"

"OK, I'll stay away from her."

Marty was really hot, and I couldn't understand why, "Say it! Say you're staying away from Virna!"

"Shit, OK, honey. I'll stay away from Virna."

Marty whipped me a reproachful glare, "Good," she got up and stormed off to bed.

I just stood there in the kitchen like the asshole I truly was. My wife was fucking Allen Peterson. She'd probably just fucked him an hour ago, and what was I doing? I was apologizing for stopping in and getting a beer where her shitty sister worked. I got up, washed my hands at the sink, and started for the kitchen phone. No, I stopped. I better use my cell phone.

++++++++++

After I thought Marty had gone to sleep I talked to my foster parents. Mom said I should cut bait and move back home. She said she never liked any of the people out west anyway. West to her was anything west of the Chesapeake Bay. My mom wasn't sure if Oakland, Maryland wasn't where the Raiders played football. She's still fighting the Civil War; not the American Civil War, the one in England in the 1640's. She's even still pissed off that they built a Catholic Church up in Ocean View back in the 1950's. She'd kill me if she found out I had to convert to Catholicism before Marty's parents let me marry their daughter.

My dad said I shouldn't rush into anything. He thought I ought to make sure. He said if I couldn't get any proof I should just ask her, if I didn't trust the answer then I should leave. One thing I was glad to hear; he said not to go off half-cocked, not to just go after somebody. He said not to get into any fights. He said if she isn't cheating I'd look like a fool, and if she was then she wasn't worth the trouble. Dad said he liked Marty, but I think he's confused because every time we talk he sounds like he's talking about Virna.

Virna is almost as tall as me, she has black hair like her sister, but she's got light brown eyes, they're almost golden. She's skinny as a rail, no tits or ass at all, at least none that I've seen. I'll give the bitch credit though; she's got great hair, it's all black, thick and wavy like Marty's but hers hangs down way below her ass and that's when it's in a braid.

Virna's got a kid too; a little girl named Tammy. Tammy's an adorable little girl; just turned five. She looks like her mom; only she's totally beautiful.

Yeah in a way Marty and Virna are like two peas in a pod. Marty's a cheating whore wife cunt bitch and Virna's got a kid but she's never been married.

++++++++++

I got through work Wednesday. When I got home I found a note. Marty said she'd be out with her friends till about 9:00 p.m., and that I should fix something for dinner. That wasn't going to happen. I went down to the Eagle's Nest. When I got there Virna was just getting off. I grabbed a couple chairs at an empty table and called her over. She condescended to sit with me.

Once we got settled I asked her, "Why doesn't Marty like you?"

"She likes me well enough. She just doesn't like me with you."

"Why's that," I asked her?

She looked at me like she was sizing up a slab of bacon, "You're not much, but she thinks it's the first time she's ever beaten me at anything."

"Beaten her? What'd she beat you at?"

Virna stretched and I got to see she really did have tits; they looked pretty OK too. It occurred to me she always wore baggy clothes. Maybe that's why I never thought she had much. Virna told me, "Look we're sisters. I'm a little older, but not by much. Sisters always fight. They always compete. I think she thought I was interested in you."

I wondered, "Were you?"

She smiled, "What do you think?"

I doubted that. I knew what was coming next. She was about to tell me how stupid I was. She was about to tell me how someone like her could never be interested in an asshole like me; that I was a dumb stupid shit. She smiled; then looked toward the door, "Oh my ride is here."

I looked toward the front door and there was this huge guy. He must have been eight feet tall and six feet wide. He was walking toward our table.

Virna got up, "I have to go. See you around," she looped her hand through Goliath's arm and sauntered off. She looked over her shoulder and smiled back at me as they left. I thought I saw her squeeze his arm a little extra tight. She leaned her head up against his shoulder.