I've taken javmor79 up on his invitation to write a fictional ending to what he maintains is a true story. You really need to read his story before this one - otherwise it will make no sense. This is NOT a stand-alone piece.
No cuckolds were actually harmed in the writing of this piece.
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As I laid rubber down Richard's street, I was still blinded by rage; when I went through a stop sign and almost got T-boned, I knew that I had to calm down. I pulled off to the side of the road, and took several dozen deep breaths like I did when coaching Alicia during Lamaze training before she delivered our two kids. It did help. I had to think. The first thing I did was to take the battery out of my cellphone.
My parents were watching our kids for the weekend - it was supposed to be a really grand one, where Alicia and I put all of the hassles of rearing an active four year old boy and precocious two year old girl behind us and re-connected. "Some re-connection," flashed through my brain, starting to get me white-hot again. I needed another series of deep breaths.
After a few minutes I realized what the first thing I had to do was. Whenever confronted with a serious problem in my life - although I'd have to say that this was the worst not just because Alicia had been fucking that moron Dominic but because of the humiliating way that she talked to me in front of more than a dozen people that we knew - I could only get through it if I took it one step at a time. Just like when I played High School football and the coach constantly preached "one game at a time." Most players thought that it was a bullshit cliché, however after a year in which we finished 3-7 when we should have been 7-3 we did embrace it the next year and won the conference championship.
Step one - go home, get the spare key to my parents' house, collect more clothes and toys for both of the kids, drive the half hour to their house, and then go in and sleep on the couch. There was no way that I wanted to see Alicia right now, and despite telling her to stay away I had no expectation that she would.
Step one accomplished, I lay on my parents' couch trying to sleep, but it was impossible. Therefore I concentrated on step two. It was probably almost light out before I settled on a step two - it would require the help of two family members, but I knew that I could count on them. I actually got a few hours of sleep before Jenny and Billy shrieked with joy when they saw that I was there and jumped on me, obviously quickly waking me up. I think that they were a little taken aback when I hugged them tight with tears in my eyes.
Jenny, way beyond her twenty eight months in verbal skills and perception, said "Why are you crying daddy? Are you so so said?"
"No darling," I stoically replied wiping away my tears. "I'm just so so happy to see my darling children, that's all."
That seemed to satisfy her.
My Mom and Dad were surprised to see me. They knew that all was not well, but didn't inquire in front of the children.
After a great breakfast where my Mom spoiled the kids with their favorite food - blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup and butter, something that they don't get at home - Mom sent Dad and the kids to run some errands. Since Billy and Jenny knew that grandpa was the biggest soft touch in the world at stores, they were happy to go with him.
The last giggle from Jenny as she exited the door had barely dissipated when Mom sat me down, held my hand, and asked "What's wrong - you look like Hell and coming here in the middle of the night is very suspicious behavior."
My Mom has a good head on her shoulders. She recently retired as a municipal court judge - my father was still working about thirty hours a week. I could always confide in her and get good advice - as long as I solicited it. She didn't butt in where not wanted.
I told her the story and step 2 of my plan. She shed a few tears then replied "Of course I'll help. Let's call Gail right now," Gail being my older sister who lived in the same state but 140 miles away. Mom talked to Gail first - then me. She was on board.
Gail and her husband Rudy didn't have kids - not because then didn't like them, but because Rudy had a problem (which was never discussed) and neither of them were interested in adoption. Billy and Jenny were their only nephew and niece and they adored them. Both Gail and Rudy worked, which is why Mom's involvement was necessary.
Mom told Dad the story while I played with the kids in the back yard. He gave me a big hug when I came back in and assured me that he was all in too.
Caller ID showed that Alicia had called three times on my parents' land line before I had the kids packed up and in the car, and Mom and I started driving to Gail's house. We never answered. Dad assured me that he wouldn't answer the phone or the door the rest of Saturday or on Sunday, and that he had an overnight business trip Monday and Tuesday and wouldn't be around.
We got to Gail's house mid-afternoon. We had as good a time as could be expected under the circumstances, and Gail and Rudy thoroughly enjoyed the kids. I took a few minutes out to buy a burner phone at one of the last remaining Radio Shacks.
Rudy is a police detective. After the kids went to bed on Saturday I had a heart-to-heart talk with him, sans mother and sister. His remark "Now I'm not suggesting this because it's not legal, but I just want to tell you what some people have done in your situation...," followed by an interesting story, was Very Helpful, and facilitated finalizing Steps 3 and 4 in my mind before I returned home Sunday late afternoon. Mom would watch the kids while Gail and Rudy were at work, and Gail would take the next Friday off and drive Mom back home and either drop the kids off too, or take full responsibility for them for a week. Since they weren't in school yet they wouldn't be missing anything at home.
Surprisingly, the kids were having such a good time - Gail and Rudy spoiled them more than Mom and Dad did - that they never asked about Alicia except in passing.
On the drive home I made a call based upon Rudy's non-suggestion/story. It was to Frank Childers. I would see who my friends were after the "Halloween Holocaust" which I was now, quite over-dramatically, calling it.
"Hi Frank, Greg here."
"Hi Greg - I almost didn't answer because I didn't recognize your number and thought that it was a phone solicitor."
"Yeah, I've got a new phone whose number I'm not giving out."
"That relates to the Halloween party at Richard's I'd bet money on - sorry about the shit storm, Greg. You don't deserve it."
"Thanks Frank; I'm going to see in the next few weeks who my REAL friends are. The reason for my call is to see if you saw anything of the exchange between the asshole and me."
There was a pause on Frank's end. I had helped Frank out of a real jam just six months earlier. He owed me. Also, I knew that Frank had no problem bending the truth a little. While I normally did have a problem bending the truth - in fact I can't remember ever telling Alicia a significant lie during our marriage, nor more than two or three at work in the last ten years - this was different. This was, in my mind, akin to war, or when police interrogate a suspected serial killer or terrorist.
"I think I remember," Frank said hesitantly. "Refresh my memory, though, will you."
"Well you were near the stairwell when I came down from punching out the asshole and I'm sure that you heard me loudly say 'You can't spit in my face fucktard,' and I'm sure that you saw me wipe the spittle off of right cheek and nose with a hankie as I exited the stairwell."
"Yeah, I remember. I did hear you scream something about spitting in the face, although I can't remember the exact words, and I sure do remember you wiping white stuff off of your right cheek and nose."
"I'm so glad that you remember that, Frank. You wouldn't mind telling anyone else about it if asked, would you?"
"Sure wouldn't."
"Do you know of someone else who might have the same recollection?"
"Yeah - you met my brother Don, didn't you? He was visiting from Cleveland."
"Yeah, I sure do - we had a nice talk, both dressed like pirates as I recall."
"Yeah, that's right. I'll give Don a call and see if he remembers."
"Thanks Frank; whether or not he remembers, please don't call me about it. But if anyone asks you, and Don does remember, give them his phone number, will you."
"Sure thing, Greg. If there is anything else I can do to help, please let me know."
