A Year and a Day

Foreword

A big thanks to everyone who reviewed and starred the previous instalment of this story. Your feedback was greatly appreciated, and I was pleasantly surprised that the majority of readers seemed to get the characters and story I was trying to tell. Even if there were a few people who were wildly off base, their comments were fun to read as well.

Anyway, I want to start off with an apology here. This chapter took far longer than I originally intended due to real life issues. My wife had a minor complication with her latest breast augmentation that ballooned (no pun intended) into a major issue and required emergency surgery. Because of this I was spending more time than usual looking after not just her, but our two children as well with the obvious implications for my writing schedule.

In addition to that, after completing this chapter I took out a major plot point and had to rework sections of the story. I didn't do this lightly, but I was unhappy with what I had written and didn't feel like I was doing the idea justice.

Hopefully the next (and final) chapter will come much sooner. - ToB

CAST

Mark Lewis - Our protagonist, an insurance company man who busts fraudsters.

Andrea Lewis-Hampton - A part time saleswoman and mother, Mark is convinced she is cheating on him.

Susie, Mark Jr - Their children.

Jake Lewis - Mark's older brother. A cross between a cranky cowboy and an engineer.

Mandy Lewis - Jake's wife and professional "bimbo". Not too bright... or is it all an act?

Margaret "Maggs" Fields - Andrea's best friend from college. Party girl and serial adulteress.

Frank Fields - Margaret's clueless husband.

John Penno - A coworker of Andrea and Margaret. Barely mentioned in the previous instalment. He's having an affair with Margaret.

Paul Jackson - Executive director of Sales and Marketing. Suspected of having an affair with Andrea. He's up to something.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Mark Lewis

My mood was so sour that I'm sure that to anyone passing by on the street I would have looked like I had a storm cloud hovering over my head. I was walking with my hands firmly thrusted in my pockets, posture stooped over, feet practically slapping the ground. Angry is what I was, I had just been to see the best family law practice in the entire city and the story they painted me was almost exactly how I envisioned it.

If I divorced Andrea, adultery or not, I was going to get screwed out of seeing my kids. There was no way around it - she was the primary caregiver, and due to the fact that I simply worked more hours than her... to provide food and shelter for those same kids, my chances of having primary custody were non-existent. The reality of this was enough to do my head in by itself but combined with having to keep up the facade of a clueless husband for the last week, I was about to boil over from the stress.

However, I did have one thing going for me. My work busting fraudsters for the insurance company had given me a pretty solid poker face and the ability to summon a veil of detachment almost on command. Still, the situation with my "cheating wife" (I still lacked proof!) was putting my talents to the test. I was a hairs breadth away from confronting her... which is a huge problem since I had no real evidence and heading to divorce right now would sink any chance I had of seeing my kids more than twice a month. My recent visit to the lawyers having convinced me of that.

It was in this somber mood, just as I was about to step off a curb and into a mud puddle, whereby either through a twist of fate or divine grace, the answer to my problems was writ in the sky in huge letters.

Well, actually it was a billboard.

I looked up and saw the words, "DUI? INSURANCE PROBLEMS? CUSTODY ISSUES? LET JOSE HELP! JOSE GOLDSTIEN IS THE MAN ON YOUR SIDE."

By themselves, the words of this lame advertisement wouldn't have made much of an impression on me but combined with the absolutely sleazy mother fucker grinning down at me, I was moved. His ill-fitting suit barely concealing his paunch, his combover doing nothing to hide his receding hairline, and his blistering polar white teeth. Instincts, honed through many years of dealing with liars, scammers and sleezebags were telling me - this was my guy. I pulled out my phone and made the call, within 30 minutes I was seated across the man himself and he wasn't happy with what he saw.

"So... Mark", he began, obviously uncomfortable. "I don't usually get clients like you... you say, you investigate insurance fraud for a living?"

I nodded.

"Don't worry Mr. Goldstien, I'm not on the clock. I'm not here to talk to you about one of your clients. I just want some good advice and I'm willing to pay."

My admission seemed to put him a bit at ease, and he sunk back in his leather desk chair, his hand reaching out to idly play with a fountain pen. I could tell he wasn't convinced.

"I'll pay double your hourly."

That got his attention.

"Well, okay then..." he said, noticeably perking up, "What can I do for you? Do you want to hire me to represent you in a divorce?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so, well... honestly, I don't know yet. I do want to retain you for... well I suppose "council" in the general sense of the word. What I want to know is basically... if you were in my situation, how would you play it?"

This obviously got his interest, and I could see the faintest bit of a smile flicker across his face. I spent the next 15 minutes filling him in on what I knew, what I didn't know, what I suspected and more importantly, what I've been told by the "best family law practitioner in the city". He absorbed it all like a sponge and I could see the wheels of chicanery spinning behind his ambulance chaser demeanor.

"So, you don't have any proof?" he said, breaking the silence.

"No, not really. Circumstantial at best - I know about her trips, I know she wasn't where she said she was, I know she arrived from somewhere else at the airport with her boss's boss. That's about it, but from what I understand, it doesn't really matter that much in divorce cases, even if you file for adultery."

Jose nodded.

"Well, that's true. Most courts really don't care about adultery. Well occasionally you'll find some die hard conservative that will slightly tip the scales in your favor if you have solid proof, but that's not why I'm asking."

I was intrigued and motioned for him to continue.

"First off - We don't know what she's doing. She could be having an affair, but also, she could be doing something else. Maybe something illegal? You said she visited Mexico? You know, they run a lot of drugs out of Mexico. What if your wife is a drug mule? What if her company is a front for a smuggling operation? What if she's involved in sex trafficking? There are a lot of what ifs here."

I bit, "And...? What does that do for me?"

"Nothing. Maybe. Or maybe not? If you were to collect a lot of..." he paused for a moment, "Interesting circumstantial evidence and hand it over to the feds, well it could mean a lot to you."

I chuckled at that.

"Only if she's actually doing something", I responded.

Jose just shrugged. "The feds make mistakes all the time. I mean, you can't help it if someone else jumps to a conclusion, can you? And as they say, if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck... it's probably a drug mule."

I sort of felt like I knew where he was going with this.

"Jose, I'm pretty upset at my wife right now, but I'm not sure I want to frame her for drug trafficking."

That got a rousing laugh from the sleezy lawyer, so strong that it made his gut jiggle.

"Mark, I'm an officer of the court and I'd never tell you to frame your wife for a crime. I'm just saying that if you have evidence of what she's doing, you could... selectively, mind you, hand some of it over to the Feds."

I nodded, indicating I got what he was saying. "Some" of the evidence. Just the parts I wanted them to see, to draw their own conclusions from. My instincts about Jose were 100% spot on.

"Anyway," he said, redirecting the conversation, "Point being - the more you know, the more options you have and besides, even if she is just screwing around on you, I'm sure that information could be helpful to you as well. Family court might not care about it that much, but she might, especially if you have proof."

I chuckled. Now he was suggesting I blackmail my wife.

"You asked how I would play it? Well, that's the first thing I would do - get more information, any way possible. It doesn't matter if it's admissible in court, just knowing what's really going on gives you a lot more options. You should consider it."

He made a good, valid point. Right now, the uncertainty was causing me some mental anguish and while it might hurt, probably a fuck ton, knowing was better. It gave me "options" as he said. He was right.

"Second thing.... Mark, do you like your job?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I'm good at it. I guess I like it. Why? Should I quit?"

Jose got up and walked to a coffee maker across the room. "Want a cup?" he asked me.

"Black, two sugars" I responded. He nodded. There was silence for a minute and then he continued to speak.

"Let me put this another way - Is it possible that you could advance in your career with some additional schooling? I don't know much about your field, but how do you get into management at the place you work at?"

I didn't really know. I tried to think about it, but could only come up with, "Maybe... something like an MBA or a Masters degree? Why?"

Jose nodded sagely as he poured the coffee. He put the sugars in my cup and gently stirred it with a spoon that I suspect hadn't been washed since Reagan was in office. In California.

"Well, there's a lot of upsides to higher education. You could advance further in your career, provide for your family better. Enrich yourself. Become a better, more well-rounded individual. Some people, many people probably, go to school part time to do this, but don't you think that takes too long? If it was me, I'd like to get it over as soon as possible so that I could get back to earning money."

It was like a lightbulb went on over my head. He was telling me to go back to school full time and even to take the pay cut. He continued talking.

"Of course, school is expensive. Do you have any savings? Enough to last for, say, two years if needed as well as to pay off any tuition?"

Jose handed the cup to me and sat back in his chair. I stared at the swirling black liquid, mulling something over in my mind.

"I could take out loans...."

Jose coughed. Obviously displeased.

"I mean, I could probably pay for it out of our savings?"

He smiled.

"Did you know that often you can pay for all of your education upfront?"

That lightbulb was now burning with the intensity of a thousand suns. Jose was telling me, without telling me, that a court could order a 50/50 split of our assets, but if I converted some of those assets into an education, they couldn't take it away from me. He was diabolical.

I had a drink of the bitter brew. It was thick and slightly burnt, the sugar didn't help the taste. Then I placed the mug on his desk and followed up with my own bright idea.

"Of course, if I went back to school for a Masters, I'd have a lot more time to spend with my kids and a much more flexible schedule, wouldn't I?"

The look Jose gave me made me feel like the star pupil at the sleezebag academy for the criminally gifted.

"But Mark, if you went back to school, how would you afford to pay bills? Could your wife pick up more hours at work?"

The comment made my stomach do a flip-flop. Part of me, the loving and loyal husband part, detested the idea of Andrea spending even more time at work, probably cheating on me, but the more practical side of me, the one that wanted to win custody of his children, could only see upsides to such an arrangement.

First off, it would balance out the income disparity, actually it would shift it in my Favor, which means that Andrea might be paying "maintenance" to me. Secondly, it would allow me to dethrone her as the "caregiver" for our two children just by virtue of her having to work a lot and me having to work very little, aside from lectures.

Jose leaned back in his chair and took a drink of his nebulous coffee.

"There's one thing about this idea Mark - Texas is a community property state and that means that it's possible for your degree, if you ever obtain it, could be considered "community property". Which means that either you may have to reimburse part of the expense or pay it back as alimony."

I snorted out loud! What nonsense!

"Wait, then why did you..."

Jose put his hand up.

"I said 'could be' - only that. In practice, it's incredibly rare and typically only used when it's obvious one spouse was using the other for the tuition. This is why I keep saying you need more information - If you can prove Andrea's adultery, then you can file on grounds. You are a loyal and faithful husband and after all, you supported Andrea through two pregnancies and working part time, so isn't it fair that she supports you while you go back to school? After all, you two would still be together if she hadn't cheated on you!"

Jose had been standing when he delivered that last line, his palms down on his desktop. He gave me a smirk and then slipped back into his seat. This guy was a total shyster, but I was following his line of thinking. On some level I realized that I had been putting off really investigating what Andy was doing behind my back - I probably didn't really want to know. However, if I wanted out of this marriage on my terms, I was going to have to face the truth, whatever it was.

"You've given me a lot to think about" I told Jose as I began to rise from my seat. He stood as well and reached out to shake my hand.

"Just one more thing Mr. Lewis - this is definitely something that any lawyer would tell you when considering a future custody battle - keep records. Records of everything. Every school pick up, school drop off, every night you spend alone with the kids, every dental appointment, soccer practice or parent teacher conference that you attend without your wife. Everything. Get an appointment book and keep it in there. If your wife DOES do something, then note it as well. It will look more natural and less... premeditated"

He let go of my hand and I resisted the urge to wipe it on my slacks. Jose had really earned his fee and perhaps more importantly, outlined a simple, yet possibly effective, plan to start getting out from under the impending damage my future divorce would have done to me and my children. Despite myself, I had started to like the guy.

A few pleasantries aside and a charge on my personal credit card later, I was humming to myself as I drove home. I was going to have a chat with my boss tomorrow about "my future". Damn I liked that word, "Future." Finally, I was starting to see one and it was all I could do to temper my expectations. I had a lot of work to do, and I had to pull it off flawlessly, or it would all be for nothing.

Just like my marriage.

Andrea Lewis-Hampton

I sat alone in the break room pondering how my life had gotten so fucked up. My fingers were idly twisting my wedding rings while they brushed up against a cup of coffee long since gone cold. I'm sure there was an analogy in there somewhere, but I was too spaced out and too slow witted to chase it. I knew it was the meds - they were affecting me more than I wanted to admit, and I hated relying on them, but I also knew that I needed them to function. I would go mad if I had to deal with the nightmare that my life has become.

You see, it all started with a fundamental misconception. One buried so deep that I had carried it since childhood. Looking back on it, it seems so foolish and naive, that I can hardly believe I didn't realize the wrongness of it all, but in my defense, I, like so many other boys and girls born in the last century, was fed a steady diet of bullshit by society, the media, our schools, our pop culture, our friends and sometimes even our family.

"I need to be happy."

Not, "I want to be happy" or "I'd like to be happy", but I

need it

. Happiness, as it were, was and still is, the yardstick by which my generation and the one before it and possibly even the one before that, used to measure success in life. Are you happy with how much money you earn? Are you happy with your spouse? Are you happy with your weight? How about your clothes? Is your home convenient enough for you? What's wrong with you if you're not happy?

It wasn't until I had sucked all the happiness out of my own life that I realized how worthless and ephemeral it all was. Happiness was fleeting, it wasn't a constant state of being. It was the reward for working hard, for investing in the right choices, for doing the right things. My children didn't make me happy - I was happy because they made my life have meaning. My marriage didn't make me happy; I was happy because my marriage and our family made me feel fulfilled and worthwhile.

It seems so damn obvious now, but at the time I was just as blind as the rest of the idiots out there running around from fix to fix, trying to get their happiness on. I have since come to believe that human beings weren't made to be constantly happy. In fact, it was just plain impossible for us to exist in a state where we had rainbows and unicorns blasted up our asses 24/7. Shit, even billionaires get depressed, don't they?

So, this was my misconception. It was the bedrock of a rickety tower of poor decisions that led me to where I am today - realizing that I had traded in all my fulfilment in life and sense of self-worth for a fleeting euphoria that when gone had left me an over medicated shell of a woman.

This wasn't a recent revelation, not by a long shot, but it was one that had been heavily weighing on my mind over the last few weeks.

It all started when I got home from my last business trip. Usually when I get home from my trips, Mark is ebullient and overjoyed to see me, but this time he seemed aloof and moody. I'm ashamed to admit it, but my first instinct was to get resentful. You see, I needed that moment - that instant when I came home, enveloped in the love of my husband and children, I desperately needed it because it was the only thing keeping me together - the only thing that allowed me to separate myself from the woman I was when I wasn't with them. But this ties back directly to what I said about happiness - see how sick and twisted that is? Rather than being concerned that my husband might be suffering or even just emotionally needy, I had to have my happiness fix and if he didn't give it to me, then

he was the one at fault

.

Never mind that I had just spent the last few days fucking and sucking my way to a $50k bonus check.

That may seem like a huge amount of money, but honestly, on a purely "per-fuck" basis, I was doing wholesale rates these days. Originally when I started, almost by accident, I had gotten a $5,000 bonus for drunkenly blowing a customer. A one time, one off, get off, if you will. I felt bad about it, horrible actually.

I had never intended for it to happen, but you see - I really needed to be happy.

Being a stay-at-home mom is hard, not physically, but emotionally. There is a lot of isolation. There is a lot of feeling like you have no worth because you spend a good portion of the day wiping up baby shit and placating tyrant toddlers. Sure, as an avowed feminist, I had always stuck to that old canard that it was a "woman's right to choose" - but the subtext always was, "so long as she chooses to be a good feminist". And decidedly, in our society, good feminists are not typically domestic goddesses who have dinner waiting for their husbands when he comes home from work.