But It'll Be Our Child - a 750 Word Tale

I had thought the original story was complete but it seems like everyone is more worried about the car than the wife. So I guess an explanation is due. Below is another 750 word story. It is not part of

750 Word Project 2025

. It's only here to give answer to a couple of questions.

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When he pushed his way into my office, my secretary and two security guards were on his heels. I sighed. It was already a busy day, and I needed an interaction with my soon-to-be former father-in-law like, well, like I needed to be married to his daughter.

I waved away my defenders and asked Lloyd what he wanted. He huffed as he sat down, as if I had somehow insulted him. "I need you to stop this stupid divorce, right now. Cheryl doesn't deserve this and besides, you agreed to..." He stopped when I slammed my hand down on my desk.

"I don't know what lies your daughter has told you, but my exact words were, 'I guess you have to do what you have to do.' I never agreed. I just never saw any reason to stop her. We were done when she agreed to help you out." I looked at the papers on my desk, outlining the problems I was faced with. "If that's all you've got to say, get out."

Lloyd twisted in his seat. I wondered if his hemorrhoids were acting up. They were the only feature that detracted from his perfect persona. I always thought that without them, he would have been a perfect asshole.

"Look," he began, "You can't divorce Cheryl. Your raising her child was part of the deal and without your cooperation, she'd be pregnant for nothing. I'll still owe the money." His face crumpled up. I thought he'd start crying in a minute. "We need you. You've got to help."

My father-in-law had borrowed money from a black gangster, and my wife had come to me with a story that if her father didn't pay, he'd be beaten and crippled and forced into bankruptcy. But if she would 'allow' herself to be impregnated by the gangster and raise his child, then all would be forgiven. I'd never believed the story, since my wife's secret fantasy was to be forcefully impregnated by a black man, but Lloyd's panic had me reconsidering my disbelief.

Then what he'd said struck me. "What do you mean, I'm part of the deal. I've never agreed to anything. Why am I included?"

"Don't know." Lloyd tended to mumble when he was embarrassed. "Mr. Handler insisted on it."

"Handler?" I laughed. "Mr. Handler is the 'gangster' you borrowed from? Zeke Handler?"

"Yes, Ezekial Handler." Lloyd flashed me a look. "You know him? Big, scary dude?"

"How did you get into debt to him?" I was laughing. Now it was all clear. "Z" or Zeke Handler have been my nemesis since grade school. He'd lost every fight we'd ever had, and I had beaten him in every sport or academic contest we were both involved in. To say he hated me would be a gross understatement. It was just like him to try and force me to raise his kid after he'd cuckolded me.

"Look, Lloyd. I owe you nothing. You and your daughter are always telling me how cunning you are at business. I'm sure you're both still laughing about how you waited until closing to tell me that you couldn't give me the $5000, we needed for the down on the house, the five grand you'd promised, without some kind of collateral. You forced me to give you my MG or lose the house that my 'loving' wife wanted. I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire."

"I knew you were still mad about that car. You always were a poor sport about that." A pique of anger flashed across his face, but he fought it down before slyly suggesting, "I'll give you the car back, for free. You don't even have to pay back the money." He looked hopefully at me.

"So, you want me to take back my wife after she's been ruined and impregnated by a guy who just wants to hurt me, and you'll give me back the car you've ruined if I'll do that." I attempted to keep the sarcasm out of my tone, sounding like I was considering the proposal.

"I didn't ruin your car!" he argued.

"Bullshit," I retorted. "I can hear it every time you drive that car. You've never balanced the carburetors and you're killing the engine.

"Look, this is what you do. Keep the fucking car. I don't want it. Tell Handler to keep his fucking slut. I don't want her. Tell the slut to sue Handler for child support. Now get the fuck out.