Sometimes I bump my head and go down into a gopher hole. How else can I explain this story?
Don J. Preston and Leon Russell: "Do I know any ways that I can make you laugh, or do I only know how to make you cry?"
+ + + +
My name is Dale Solomon. Let me tell you about the twists and turns in my life. I can't say that I'm ashamed nor proud of everything I've done. Sometimes life makes you make tough decisions.
I came from a loving but financially strapped family. I've got two sisters and two brothers. I'm the one in the middle. Since money was tight I've been working since I was a teenager. Even though I've been told I'm very intelligent, most of my jobs were grunt work but they gave me spending money.
While I was attending community school I sold sperm and blood to make ends meet. I met Celeste my sophomore year and we eloped after six weeks of non-stop sex. She's a very creative lover but her backdoor is completely off limits. Not even touching is allowed. I never asked for an explanation.
I worked a thirty-two hour per week job, which was just enough to get benefits. Although it cost me all of my spare time, I was taking fourteen credit hours of night classes. Celeste was working as a clerical worker in an insurance office. Even with two incomes, the cost of schooling and 'life' didn't allow for building any savings. The only way to survive was to keep your eyes focused on the elusive horizon.
When money got to the point of being a show stopper, I, or we, decided that a short stint in the military would be beneficial. The perks in the GI Bill seemed like the best long term solution. A month after I entered boot camp, Celeste informed me that she was pregnant. Her parents agreed to help with the baby when that time came.
+ + + +
I was young. I know that's not an acceptable excuse. I was so devastated that it never occurred to me to check.
We'd been married for two years when Celeste delivered our son. If it was a girl she would have been named Gloria. Since it was a boy, we had previously agreed upon Daryl Thomas. Less than a month later I was served with divorce papers. I was still deployed at the time.
The petition for divorce sought neither alimony nor child support. Attached was a copy of the birth certificate. I didn't have a son named Daryl Thomas Solomon. Instead, the birth certificate named Celeste's co-worker, Wendell Truit, as the father of the child. The child's name was Wendell Truit Jr. There were no provisions for visitation as I was not the father of the child. My comrades convinced me that losing her was the best possible outcome. It was hard to argue against. Try telling that to my heart.
Not once, since the day I was served with the divorce papers, had I spoken with Celeste. Don't get me wrong, it took a long time to rebuild my confidence and trust in women. But I did. I found a woman who truly loves me. Even so, we almost didn't make it.
I met Dee at a neighborhood BBQ. She was the sister of one of the neighbors that I really didn't know all that well at that time. Although she had been to a few of these parties before, we'd never spent much time together. I was too shy, and still smarting from my divorce, to make the first move. Dee sensed my shyness and broke the ice.
"I hear you wore the uniform?"
"Yes ma'am. You?"
"No, just a civvy. How long have you been back?"
"About nine months. Are you here alone today?"
"Not just today. How about you?"
"Yeah, footloose and fancy-free. Just being sociable. Which house do you live in?"
"Oh I'm not a neighbor, my sister is" as she pointed to a woman who didn't look like anything like her.
"So what brings you here?"
With a twinkle in her eye "You."
"Yeah right, I've seen you at a few of these gatherings."
"Oh I see, you're the only one who's allowed to be shy?"
"Well nameless lady, how would you like to get out of here, grab some ice cream, and take in a movie? I'm Dale by the way."
"I'd like that Dale. How about you call me Dee?"
And with that we charted a course which found us living together eight months later. Dee was studying to pass the bar and become an attorney. Once I got my Bachelors Degree, I found a way into a management position at a distribution center. We rented a house in a typical bedroom community. Every once in a while we'd take a weekend vacation to Las Vegas. Life seemed pretty good even though neither of us was talking marriage.
+ + + +
I have to admit I was oblivious to what was going on. Having accepted an invitation to a neighborhood meet and greet, I was wandering around the back yard. Dee couldn't get the afternoon off so I went stag. The only thing I really had to avoid was our nymphomaniac neighbor Bevin. She is a shameless flirt and makes Dee furious the way she openly attempts to bed me.
"I don't care what you do, but I better not hear that you spent five seconds alone with Bevin! Got it mister?"
"Yes sir, or ma'am, or dear. Got it" as I saluted Dee.
I was masterful at avoiding Bevin. The new couple, Randy and Harley, were dressed quite casually. In Harley's case that meant that she was braless and I seriously doubt there were panty lines showing against her mid-thigh skirt. She pressed her boobs against everyone, men and women. Randy didn't appear bothered by it at all.
It seemed like the party was breaking up as several of the men hadn't been seen in a while. I figured I'd spent the required amount of time to satisfy whatever is acceptable at these types of events. He had just directed another guy into the house when I tapped Randy on the shoulder and bid him adieu.
"You sure you have to leave Dale? Things are getting pretty exciting in the bedroom, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah I'm sure. Welcome to the neighborhood. Give my regards to Harley."
"Follow me through the house. You can leave through the front door."
I walked with Randy and heard the sounds of sex. Randy was smiling ear to ear. We passed close enough to see a few men standing naked. You could hear Harley acting like a slut. I simply smiled and kept walking. If I'd only known. I would have been better prepared for the shit storm later that evening.
"You miserable fuck! How could you?" from one seriously agitated Dee.
"How could I what?"
"Have sex with our new neighbor! Bevin said EVERY man at the party jumped on top of her."
"Not true. I avoided Bevin and never saw Harley after the first hour or so. I did hear her as I was leaving. Ask Randy, I did not partake."
"That's not what Bevin said. She said you came out of her bedroom with a big fucking smile on your face. Take your shit to the guest bedroom. You're not sleeping with me tonight."
That night was the beginning of the end. Things never returned to normal. I learned that Randy and Harley were swingers and they were recruiting new friends with some free samples that afternoon.
After two months of living together, but alone, I told Dee that things better improve or I'd move out. In hindsight, if we were eventually headed for a break-up, now was the best time. We'd had a few talks about possibly getting married and starting a family. Not having children would make this a clean break.
The only thing that shocked me was how quickly Dee's love had turned to hate based solely on the word of someone she despised. If she was that mentally unstable I guess I should thank my lucky stars that we split when we did. Try telling that to my heart. I found an apartment and moved out.
I wasn't shocked when Bevin left a message on my cell phone asking if I'd like to get together with her. I never called her back. That's all I need is a manipulative nymphomaniac.
+ + + +
I'd been on my own for almost a year when my heart got an unwelcome jolt. I'd never bothered to remove Dee's contact information from my cell phone. When it buzzed on Saturday night, and caller ID flashed Dee, I knew not what to do. My stomach was cramping, my heart was racing, and my palms were sweaty. What in the hell does she want? The easiest thing to do was to let it go to messages.
