A Tale of Two Sisters

This is the second portion of a four part story. All prior comments still apply. Please comment and vote on each part or not; it's your decision.

A Tale of Two Sisters: Part Two

by carvohi

How do I get at Marty? What to do? What to do? OK I thought it through. We used to play cards. We used to have card parties. We could have a card party, but we’d only invite one other couple. We’d done it before. In fact we’d done that frequently. I had just the couple in mind.

I caught up with Marty Saturday morning at breakfast. She wanted to eat and leave, but I had the keys to her car in my hand.

“Hey Marty when was the last time we invited anyone over to play cards.”

“I can’t remember. Give me my keys I’ve got a lot to do today,” she reached across the table for her keys.

I pulled back, “Wait a minute. Let’s invite a couple over for some cards. You know maybe some Hearts?”

“OK ,yeah sure, give me my keys.”

“You good with that then?”

“I said yes, now give me my keys.”

“Good I’ll call Allen and Yvonne. Maybe we can get together next week.”

Marty slouched back just a little. Her face paled, “Why them?”

“I think they’d be great. They’re the only couple we know who are our age and who have a child. I’ll be finished the PA program next year. I’ll get a good job. You could quit Walmart, and we could start a family.”

She sat up very straight. She started to fidget, “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself aren’t you Mister?”

“What we agreed we’d have kids one day. Don’t you want kids? Or is it you don’t want my kids;” I said that last with a little extra flair. I watched Marty’s reaction; she blushed.

“Of course I want your kids. You’re my husband. Go ahead, invite them.”

I called Yvonne and set it up for Friday November 15th at our house. I thought this could work pretty good because Thanksgiving was the following Thursday. I didn’t know where things would stand on Thanksgiving, but I knew they’d sure be different from the way they were right now. I half expected Marty would call Yvonne or Allen and try to find a way to break the thing up so I forewarned Yvonne by telling her I had something special planned for Marty and no matter what she said they needed to be there. Yvonne didn’t think it made much sense but she agreed.

The next few days were agony. I kept going to class and to work. I also kept the electronic equipment running. Marty continued to call her mom regularly. She and Allen managed a getaway at his house. I had their cutesy little planning conversations stored in the laptop and on USB. The two of them also must have met somewhere in his pick-up, and as expected our apartment was used once.

I couldn’t help it; I had to watch every scene over and over. The more I watched the two of them the more I hated them. To my surprise Marty graced me with a mercy fuck one Wednesday night. She went way out of her way to treat me nice. She put on one of her prettiest negligees, dolled herself all up in makeup, and for about three hours did her best to wear me out. I wondered what it was all about since we hadn’t done anything worth remembering in close to three months. I found out when I watched them Thursday.

The Thursday after my mercy fuck I found out the truth. Since Marty and her sister’s argument Marty might have grown suspicious that I might be on to them. After she and Allen finished fucking they talked about me. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation. It was short but devastating; I listened to it several times.

Marty said, “I got Gary off last night like you told me to do.”

“Good,” said Allen, “we don’t want him to suspect anything.”

Then she asked, “Do you think I should give him some more?”

I got the shock of my life when I heard Allen say, “No you promised you’d save yourself just for me. I don’t like sharing even if he is your husband.”

I had no idea Marty had agreed to cut me off. I was furious; it was just one more strike against her. I thought I’d try something to unravel her plans. The card get together was still a week away. I decided to seriously try to get her to break her promise to Allen. I decided to try this Saturday night.

I was off that Saturday so I slept in. I went to the store and bought all the fixings for home cooked fried chicken. Marty liked fried chicken, and I could cook. She’d gotten back from her work and was taking a nap by the time I got back with the food so after I put the stuff in the refrigerator I slipped out and drove off with her car. I left her a note that I wanted to get her brakes checked. I kept the keys to my car so she wouldn’t be able to get away. I also told her my plans for dinner.

Guess where I took the car? Right, I took it to the garage where Allen was supervisor. Allen, being a tall man, had been selected by Yvonne’s father to sort of run the shop. He wasn’t that great working on cars, but his size was an intimidation factor when talking to other men who brought their cars and trucks in. It was all I could do to keep a straight face and not get mad when I was there.

Allen was Mr. Personality while I was there. He went out of his way to be extra friendly. While one of the other guys checked out Marty’s Avalon he walked me all around introducing me to several of the other guys. He seemed to always make a point of referring to me as Marty’s husband. He must have thought I was really stupid. I knew what this was about. Yeah, he’d been bragging. I thought only an asshole would brag about cheating on his wife at the shop his wife’s father owned. I wondered how this would all play out when the shit finally hit the fan.

Marty’s brakes were fine. When I got back to our apartment I fixed the chicken, made up a salad and some parsley potatoes. She fidgeted the whole time. I guessed I might have messed up her plans. It was a pretty good meal, and I could tell she liked it. Marty’s a wing and thigh person so I’d bought a packet of just those parts. She sure ate her share. After we ate I insisted she just relax while I cleaned the dishes. She tried to come up with some cock and bull story about having to go out to see a friend, but I wouldn’t let her.

By 6:30 I had everything ready. I went in the living room, sat down and said, “Marty I really enjoyed the time we had the other Wednesday night. You up for another go round?”

She tried to beg off, “Oh Gary I ate so much chicken I feel so full; plus I’m tired from work.”

I replied, “That’s OK. Let’s go to bed and I’ll give you a nice massage.”

Her answer was what I expected, “Gary I’m a little nauseous; maybe if we waited until tomorrow morning.”

I sat down beside her and took her hand, “If I didn’t know better I’d say you had a secret lover stashed away some place and you’ve made him a secret promise to never make love to me again. I don’t know maybe it’s a woman?”

First she blanched, then she pretended to get angry, “Well that settles it Mister! Any man who doesn’t trust his own wife should get nothing from her. So there, you’ll get nothing from me. I mean how dare you suggest I might be seeing someone else!”

She’d gone into tiger mode, but my suggesting it might be a woman made her even worse. I know I’d given her an extra card to play. She played it too.

“And I’m no lesbian. I love you. Only you! I would never play around. I would never do anything like that.”

I replied, “I know that honey. I know you love me. I know you’d never hurt me like that. I mean that’s the worst thing a woman could ever do to her man.”

She curled up and turned away so I couldn’t see her face. I didn’t know if she was laughing or getting ready to cry. She said, “I’m mad at you now. I’m going to go see my mother.”

“Oh please sweetie,” I said, “I’m sorry.”

That was all the ammunition she needed, “No I need to talk to my mom,” and with that she got up, put on her coat, grabbed her purse, and left.

I went to the door and watched as she pulled away. The stupid bitch was already on her phone. I went to the laptop and pulled up her cell. Oh yes, she was calling Allen.

Once he picked up she started, “Allen I think we need to cool it for a while. Gary’s on to something.”

I heard Allen say, “Awe come on. He’s as blind as a bat. I was with him this afternoon. He doesn’t suspect shit. We’ll talk about this when I come over Tuesday night.”

She replied, “OK, but I’m worried.”

Then he asked, “Where are you now?”

“I told him I was going to see my mother.”

Allen responded, “You better go over there a while just in case the dim wit calls.”

I heard her laugh, “Yeah he is a dim wit isn’t he.”

I turned the laptop off.

++++++++++

It was Friday night and time to play some cards. I went all out. I got crab dip, onion dip, and I made my homemade shrimp dip. I bought regular, French onion, crab, and barbecue potato chips. I thought about what our professor said about potato chips. He called them wafers of salted grease. I knew Marty especially like cheese curls so I bought a bag of them. Add to that the cheese fondue, my own sloppy Joe mix, and I thought we were pretty much ready, but as an aside I secured a small quantity of marijuana, one never knew.

Allen and Yvonne arrived shortly after seven. Marty took their coats while I got each of them a beer. Yvonne liked beer, but preferred Coors Lite so I’d loaded up on that. Marty liked her wine so I’d bought a bottle of inexpensive white.

We started out in the living room. We covered most of the usual topics; the weather, politics, the chaos in Iraq, the war in Afghanistan, the nuclear menace from North Korea and Iran. Then we got to the more personal stuff like my job, Allen’s job, and how Travis was getting along. Finally it was time to play cards. We drifted into the kitchen where I’d set everything up. We played Hearts.

For the uninitiated it’s probably best to play as individuals so that’s what we did. The key to Hearts is to get as few points as possible. Point cards were any Heart and then the Queen of Spades. The worst card to get was the Queen of Spades since that was thirteen points. Sometimes a player might try to run the deck. That was when one player got all the point cards. If that happened then all the other players got twenty-six and the ‘runner’ got none.

We played a pretty steady game for a little better than an hour. Everyone helped themselves to the dip and chips. Marty scooped everybody up some sloppy Joe, and I was the gracious host by making sure I got the awful Queen of Spades most of the time. I had Owen’s laptop sitting in the corner by the trash can.

After a while the game slowed. Allen won most of the hands. I knew then it was time to spring my trap. I looked about the table and said, “A friend of mine at school is seriously thinking about dropping out and starting up his own surveillance business.”

An unsuspecting Marty asked, “Surveillance what’s that. You mean like wiretapping and spying?”

I smiled and responded, “Marty that’s so old. Private investigation is much different now. Owen’s been telling me all about it. In fact I even told him if he got good I might join him.”

Marty scoffed, “You? You’ve got to be kidding.”

‘Bingo’, I thought, “No Marty, Owen’s really into it, and he’s been showing me some stuff too,” I reached back for the laptop, “here let me show you.”

Allen and Yvonne were mildly interested, but I could tell Marty was incredulous. Who could blame her; she’d been fucking the guy across from me for weeks right in my home and as far as she knew I had no idea.

She laughed, “If I were you Gary I’d stick to bed pans.”

I ignored the insult, turned on the laptop, swiveled it around so the screen faced my wife and our guests, “No look here,” the screen showed everyone our bedroom, “Look, see. Our bedroom as it is right now.”

They all looked at it. I could see increased interest. I went on, “Owen and I set up a camera in our bedroom a few weeks ago. It’s been running and recording nonstop for nearly a month.”

I could see Allen didn’t get it, but Marty sensed something. She said, “You mean you’ve been taping us in bed for the last month?”

Allen sort of half-heartedly chuckled, “That could be just a picture; that doesn’t mean anything.”

I tapped another setting; it showed two people moving around the room. The lighting was softer, but the images were clearly Marty and me. The date was across the bottom. I said, “Read that date. That’s Marty and I getting ready for bed the night after her parents party, I replayed a piece of that night’s conversation that began with Marty castigating me for talking to her sister.

-------------------------

it began:

“What you told her about the Dungeon and me getting sick?”

“Well yeah.”

“Christ! Will I ever live that down?”

“Shit Marty it’s been two years. Maybe I should have just let them haul you off and fuck the shit out of you?”

“Fuck you Gary! Just fuck you,”

and ended.

-------------------------

I closed the laptop lid, looked at her dead on, and replied in a low serious voice, “I’ve been video and audio taping everything for a month.”

Marty’s eyes were huge. In the softest of soft voices she murmured, “Everything?”

I peered over at Allen. We three were all on the same page now. It was time to shift gears. I said, “Listen to this,” I got out my cell phone and tapped in Marty’s number. Her phone started doing its little tune; she’d chosen Led Zeppelin’s ‘Ramble On.’ How appropriate I thought. Her phone was in her purse in the living room. I said, “Go on Marty. Go get it.”

She was trembling when she got up. In a second she was back.

“OK, answer it,” I said.

In a squeaky voice she said, “Hello.”

I replied, “Hello right back,” then I laid it on, I looked at Allen and Yvonne. Yvonne was still clueless. In fact she looked interested. Allen on the other hand had it all figured out. He sat there in stony silence just glaring at me.

I closed my phone and turned back to my now almost cringing wife, “Now Marty I want you to call Allen.”

She was close to tears, “Allen? Why?”

“Call him” I said.

Marty tapped in Allen’s phone. It rang. He just sat there. I said, “Answer it Allen.”

He reached in his pocket, got out his phone, flipped it open, hit the button and said, “Hello.”

I reopened the laptop and turned up the speaker. All three of us could hear him loud and clear when he said hello.

I looked at my wife, “You see I haven’t just been videotaping our bedroom, I’ve been recording everything; every single telephone conversation you’ve had for the last month. Here listen to this.”

I turned back to the laptop and typed in the necessary keys. Almost immediately all four of us got to hear a private phone conversation between Marty and her mother that had taken place a cool four weeks earlier.

I said, “This conversation is a month old,” I glared at Marty, “this was the Sunday right after your parent’s barbecue,” I gave Marty another very meaningful look, “you remember way back then don’t you?”

Allen had heard enough. He got up, “Come on Yvonne; time to go home.”

Yvonne sat quite still, “Why? This is interesting.”

Marty was crying, “Yvonne please go home.”

I just sat there. All the damage had been done. Allen and Marty both knew I knew everything. They knew I had recordings of everything. They knew the chump cuckold wasn’t the dim wit they thought I was.

I jumped up, “Let me get your coats,” I looked at Allen, “I’m such a dim wit. I almost forgot my manners,” I turned to Marty and in a low tone I said, “I’m a real dim wit aren’t I,” I could see by her expression and through her tears she knew exactly what conversation I was referring to. Marty and I got our guests their coats. Yvonne apologized for Allen’s behavior. I apologized for Marty’s. I felt bad for Yvonne; she was still very much in the dark.

Just as our guests were about to leave Allen turned to me and said, “Fuck you Gary.”

I said, “No, I’m going to fuck you.”

Then with my arm slung casually over Marty’s shoulders I waved good bye as they walked to Yvonne’s car. Marty was trying to affectionately press against me, while I thought, ‘too late Marty’ you’re just too damn late.’

After Yvonne and Allen were gone Marty tried to hold my hands. I let her. She asked, “What are you going to do Gary?”

Her tears looked beautiful to my eyes; a truly wonderful thing. I smiled at her, “you want to keep the onion dip?’

“Gary.”

I started back to the kitchen, “I really want to keep the crab dip and the shrimp dip, but the fondue and onion dip. I don’t know. What do you think? Tell me what to do with it.”

Marty followed me, “Gary you know what I mean.”

I started moving officiously about the kitchen, “I think we ought to trash all the chips that are out. They’re going to be stale soon anyway. What do you want to do with the left over sloppy Joe?”

She was doing some serious crying. She followed me as I went from the refrigerator to the trash can to the table. She kept trying to put her arms around me, but I stayed just one step ahead. Every time she missed she’d shake her hands and arms in frustration. She kept crying and pleading, “Gary talk to me. I need you to talk to me. Oh Gary honey please!”

I just kept putting things away. Finally, down the empty beer cans I said, “Honey I’m going to take these and put them outside in the recyclable container. Why don’t you go in the living room and see what’s on TV?”

She followed me to the door. She was crying her eyes out, “Gary I love you. Please Gary don’t do this. Don’t be so mean.”

I came back in, checked the clock, “Hey it’s early. We can still get the late news and then maybe watch some Letterman.”

I went in and sat on the sofa, found the remote, and turned on the TV. She kept crying. She followed me, and sat beside me on the sofa. She threw her arms around me. She snuggled her head against my neck. I stretched my left arm out on the back of the sofa to make it easier for her to nestle in closer. Her sobs were wracking her whole body, “Oh Gary honey. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing. Please honey. Nothing meant anything. Oh God Gary I love you. Gary I love you so much. Say you forgive me.”

I heard her, but I remembered the things she’d said to Virna, “Wow,” I said, “Letterman’s got Juliana Margoles and the ‘Rawhide Rustlers’ Bluegrass Band on tonight,” I never liked Blue Grass music and had no idea who the ‘Rawhide Rustlers’ were.

She kept trying to hug me and hold me. I didn’t try to stop her; I didn’t encourage anything either. She kept begging, “Gary talk to me. Gary please say something!”

I never saw anyone cry as hard as Marty did that night. I finally gave in, “I’m still thirsty. Think I’ll get a beer. You want anything, a beer, maybe some more white wine?”

She wailed even louder then. She curled her feet up under her legs. She wrapped her head in her hands and arms and boo hooed up a storm, “Oh Gary I’m so sorry.”

I went and got another Coors. I came back in, sat back and watched the nightly news, and then Letterman until 12:30. I didn’t take my eyes off the screen except once to get another beer and one of the unopened bags of regular chips. Marty sat beside me the whole time and cried. At 12:30 I asked her, “You want to watch anymore?”

She burst into a whole new round of tears. I said, “Look I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

I got up and went back to the bedroom. Still sniffling and crying Marty followed. Her pretty blouse was soaked with tears. She kept begging me to say something.

Once I was undressed, in bed, and under the covers Marty climbed in with me. She whimpered, “You want to make love?”

I yawned, “No, not tonight, too tired. Besides you’re supposed to save yourself,” that really got her. She knew I’d heard the conversation about her not making love to me.

She rolled over. I listened while she cried herself to sleep.