As always, thanks to all who give meaningful feedback. I enjoy emailing with you.
Sorry, no sex, just the aftermath.
Haitian proverb: Do not insult the alligator until you have crossed the river.
+ + + +
Sometimes you just can't tell whether your luck is good or bad. It was Saturday morning. I backed out of my driveway, headed to Home Depot to pick up some parts to fix the bathroom tub, when I realized I had a flat tire. I had only made it a hundred feet. I walked back home to get my hydraulic jack.
As I walked into the kitchen, I heard Dora talking to someone.
"Don't worry, he won't be a problem."
The sound of my keys landing on the counter let her know I was back.
In hushed words "Gotta go."
Entering the kitchen "Hey hon that was quick."
"Flat tire."
"Oh, that sucks, need help with it?"
"Nope, got it."
Time to examine what that was all about. As I changed tires I decided to replay what Dora's been doing and saying to see if I could find warning signs. The first thing I found odd was the night before. When I got home, Dora told me the bathroom tub was almost plugged again. It's been getting worse, but why, at six in the evening, would it even matter. We live in an older house, and we use the tub as a shower. That must mean she took a shower before I got home. Well you don't have to read too many stories to understand what that implies.
After changing tires, I went upstairs to wash my hands. I checked the laundry basket and found both a wet bath towel, from the night before, and a pair of panties, still damp from having been hand washed.
+ + +
My name is Matt. I've been married to Dora for four years. We knew each other in high school but never dated. We reconnected after college and things just seemed to fit. We had a healthy sex life before we got married and it hasn't slowed down much.
I guess, if I'd admit it, the first warning sign was when our friends, Jim and Diane, got divorced. I totally supported Jim for all the shit he put Diane through. Dora couldn't understand how someone, so mild mannered like me, could condone such brutal treatments of a cheating wife. I heard the 'maybe it was just sex' and that shouldn't result in such draconic measures.
"Look at it this way Dora, fidelity is just like pregnancy, you are either pregnant or you are not, there is no gray area. Fidelity is one hundred percent or it's zero."
Dora's reaction, in retrospect, now speaks volumes.
We recently purchased this old fixer upper. Unless some major changes are made, this place won't sell to anyone until someone else wants a fixer upper. I'm handy enough with a tool belt but finding the time is the biggest challenge.
My heart wasn't into fixing the bathroom, I needed to clear my head.
I headed outside to work in the yard. I was fuming but unsure what to do to get more information.
Dora was tending to her rose bushes. I had started trimming the trees when I heard a scream. Dora was stumbling, trying to stand up, and screaming 'SNAKE'.
I smiled, Dora is deathly afraid of snakes. I find snakes amusing, live ropes with eyes and a forked tongue. I strolled over and saw a pencil thin garter snake, about a foot long.
"KILL IT, KILL IT!"
I lied "I don't see it. Are you sure?"
"YES, DAMMIT, it was huge, keep looking."
Dora was standing in the doorway, I took a foot long twig and tossed it towards her "Is this it?"
The sound of the door slamming was all I heard.
She had locked the doors, and I had to apologize, profusely, for throwing 'the snake' at her, before I was allowed into the house.
"I need to lay down. I hate snakes. Not funny, throwing it at me."
Once Dora was upstairs, I opened her cell phone and jotted down the phone numbers she'd been calling. I also checked her Google map history to see where she had requested directions. Yesterday at 2:30 pm it was the Parakeet Lounge.
Putting things together was not all that difficult. Too many calls to Jacob Sather, her co-worker, to be a coincidence. Not too many with that last name in our fair city. I'm guessing he's the one about four miles away.
I decided to take a drive. The Parakeet Lounge is attached to the America Sleeps Motel. One down, one to go. I parked a few houses away from Jacob's house and watched. A couple of kids were playing in the front yard and a lovely lady would occasionally pop her head out and interact with them. I assume the man, who came out of the house, was Jacob. He drove off.
I knocked on the front door.
"Yes, may I help you?"