Eat Me Bill Shaespeare

Another thank you to Blackrandl1958 for her editing skills, and to the crew at Specialized Iterations for its help and support.

My wife had a baby today, and my marriage died.

Well, I'm 90 percent sure it died, but I'll get confirmation in a few hours. It normally takes longer than that, but due to the circumstances, the hospital has put a rush on the DNA test. Obviously, I'm pretty sure it won't make a difference.

My phone is blowing up on the table as I sit in a bar 10 minutes from the hospital. I keep looking at the screen, even though I know it won't be the doctor calling me for at least another few hours. The phone calls I'm ignoring are from my wife, my kids and my in-laws. I'm sure they all want to know what the fuck is going on; for that matter, so do I.

The baby is absolutely beautiful, with blonde curls like her mother. She came out seven pounds, 12 ounces and 19 inches long, a perfect full-term infant. Except according to my wife, she was premature by at least six weeks.

Admittedly, I don't have a medical degree, but I am also not a halfwit. A baby born that early wouldn't look that perfect in its development and coloring. My wife lied big-time to me, and now that I take off the blinders of absolute love, I know my biggest fear has come true: the child that she's tried to pass off as mine is actually the progeny of my late best friend.

The waitress leaves my fifth shot of Jack Daniels. At this rate, I'll spend $150 on a bottle that retails for $25. I just don't give a shit. I go back into my coma.

The Three Amigos was a lifetime ago, literally, in Gary's case. He, Traci and I were inseparable from the time our families moved onto the same block within a two-year period when we were about 5 years old. Gary's family and mine moved in the same summer, and Traci's family came in the next spring. Gary and I were already tight by that time, but Traci fit in seamlessly, because at that time she was a total tomboy. She could run faster than I could and was stronger than Gary, and there wasn't a sport or game that we played without her. When the other girls in the neighborhood were playing with dolls, Traci was playing kickball or stickball with Gary and me and the other guys in the neighborhood, and more than holding her own.

Things changed somewhat as we hit our teens. Traci, in particular, changed from a physical standpoint. She went from a skinny blonde girl with long pigtails to a young lady with developing boobs, a shapely butt and legs and flowing silken hair. Gary and I both noticed the changes, but we never said anything out loud for fear of being pounded into the dirt by Traci.

Although we were still inseparable a year later, I certainly didn't mind the rare occasions when Gary wasn't around for some reason or other. Traci and I seemed to be closer, both physically and mentally, at those times, and, in fact, I got my first kiss one summer Sunday afternoon when Gary was out somewhere with his family and Traci and I were sitting together on my porch swing. I don't even remember what we were talking about, but suddenly she leaned over to me and planted a soft kiss on my lips. Her lips were full and soft and tasted like the strawberry ChapStick she used all the time, and my brain suddenly did a very good imitation of a television set losing reception and going completely to snow.

"Wow," I whispered, completely unable to say anything else.

Traci blushed as we locked eyes. I reached over with my left hand and took her right hand in mine and we just sat together and rocked.

Gary was back with us the next day, and if I hadn't been part of the kiss the day before I never would have believed it had taken place. Traci was back to her usual, low-key self, with no hint that anything different had taken place. At one point during the day I even attempted to take her hand in mine, and she very calmly shook mine off. I was perplexed to say the least.

The Christmas dance was approaching our freshman year and I thought it was the perfect time to make an official move on Traci. She, Gary and I were walking home from school when I swallowed hard twice, then asked.

"Um, Trace, if you're not doing anything next month, would you want to go to the Christmas dance with me?"

Traci, who was in between Gary and me as we walked, came to a complete stop, which caused both Gary and me to pull up as well. I noticed Gary had a smirk on his face as we stopped.

"I... uh... ah... I'm already going with Gary. He asked me yesterday, Bobby."

Traci looked uncomfortable, Gary smirked and I felt like somebody had punched me in the stomach.

"Sorry, Bobby. You snooze, you lose," Gary sort of snorted.

I felt two kinds of stupid. First, I never had any inkling that Gary had any thoughts about Traci, and second, because it's one of those unwritten guy code things: you don't mess with another guy's girl, even if I was just finding out.

"Hey, Gar, I didn't mean anything by asking. I didn't know, Bud."

"I get it, Bobby. We're good," he said jovially.

Traci fidgeted and looked uncomfortable during the rest of the walk home. She and Gary engaged in some small talk while I stayed silent.

I didn't ask anybody else to the dance and I didn't go stag. Yes, I did feel betrayed by both of my best friends.

My father saw me moping around the house the night of the dance and knew the reason why. My parents were in our family room watching TV and I was in my bedroom listening to some music on my CD player when I heard a soft knock on my door and my father poked in his head.

"Girls, huh?" he said as he walked in and sat down in the chair at my desk. "Can't live with 'em, but you can't kill 'em either."

I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs. I looked at him like he had just descended from the moon. He gave me that crooked grin I knew so well.

"Thanks, Dad. Good talk," I vocalized.

Without anything more being said between the three of us, The Three Amigos became The Two Amigos and Their Friend after the Christmas dance. We still did things together, but Traci and Gary were now an official couple. They stayed that way throughout high school. I eventually started going out with other girls.

The Two Amigos were finally separated by college. Traci went to Michigan State while Gary went out to UCLA. I also wound up at Michigan State, but due to my own guy code thing, I barely talked to Traci during our freshman year. She seemed perplexed by this development, but I didn't want to be accused by anyone of trying to snipe her from Gary.

Traci's mom actually approached me one day and asked if I was angry with her daughter. Rhonda and Mark Ford were practically like parents to me, and I respected them as much as I did my own parents.

"She misses the way things use to be in the old days, Bobby," Mrs. F said to me.

"Can't ever be that way again, Mrs. F. We're not 7 anymore. And beside, if she's not dating me, than I can't think of anyone better than Gary," I responded.

The situation didn't change our sophomore year, but late in our junior year Traci invited me to be her date for her sorority's formal. I was both surprised and wary.

"Traci, aren't you still dating Gary?" I asked. "I really don't want to get in between you two."

"Gary and I broke up after the summer," she said. "He told me he's going to stay in California after graduation to attend law school, and he didn't want to hold me back for another three years."

"Law school? Gary? I never saw that coming," I said.

Our first date was tentative at best. She asked if I'd consider taking her out for a second date. We kissed on the second date, and on the fourth date we had sex. I noted to myself that she wasn't a virgin, but if she wasn't paying attention, I wasn't either.

We dated for the next two years before we got married. Although I considered against it, Gary was my best man. It was a little uncomfortable for both of us. I mean, having as your best man the guy who was previously dating and fucking the woman you are marrying is not exactly standard operating procedure.

Gary went back to California right after the wedding, and I didn't give him another thought for more than 20 years.

Our daughter, Kaylee, came along two years after we got married. Our son, Jeffrey, was added into the mix another two years later.

We heard that Gary was making a rare appearance home in a few days from my mom. Our parents all still lived on the same block, and Mrs. Prescott told my mom that Gary was coming home to say good-bye. He had cancer and had been given less than a year to live, so he wanted to see his parents while he was still in good shape physically. My mom asked his mom if it would be okay to put together a gathering so he could see some of his old friends and other family. His mom thought that was a great idea.

Gary was in the first stages of his treatment and still looked pretty good, although it was obvious that he was incredibly depressed. He was alone, having been divorced twice and not having any children. He, Traci and I must have spent at least six hours talking about life--his in particular--and how it was going to end. Toward the end of the night, Traci came up with a brainstorm that wound end up eventually shattering our marriage.

"How about if we come out and take care of you until it's time for you to go into hospice care?" Traci asked Gary.

Both Gary and I looked shocked at what Traci was proposing. It was not something she and I had talked about, and at first glance I wasn't sure how we could even make that come about.

"He's our oldest friend, Bobby. Who else should do this?"

"But the docs say I could have several months before I need hospice," Gary noted. "Surely you guys just can't quit your jobs and babysit me. You're paying for two kids in college now."

"I work for a national insurance company that is big on family leave," Traci explained. "Bobby can use his vacation time and get some personal time."

"That's maybe like two months total time, Hon," I said. "That's not enough."

"Well... you could take like a week at a time and stretch that to four months. I can handle it by myself the rest of the time."

I didn't like where this was going. I knew Gary was our oldest friend, but my wife just volunteered to spend several months away from me and our home to take care of him. And since she did it right in front of him, that meant that I'd have to look the biggest bad guy in the world to rescind her offer. Still...

"Traci, that's a bold commitment..." I started to say, but she shot me a withering look while interrupting.

"Then that's settled. That's what we're going to do!"

I swallowed hard and bit my tongue.

I barely walked in the door that night before I exploded.

"What the fuck, Traci? You're just going to abandon me for a half-year or so to play nursemaid to an old boyfriend?!"

"You selfish bastard!" she screamed at me. "That's what this is about? You can't let it go that he slept with me before you!"

I slept in Jeffrey's old bedroom that night.

It took us three days to come to some kind of agreement on helping Gary, which in married-speak means Traci got her way and we did it exactly as she promised Gary. Gary was humbled and appreciative; I can't even guess how many times he thanked Traci and me. I have to admit that I felt a bit like a selfish schmuck after the first month.

I also have to admit that I was fatigued after the first month between working, taking care of my house and helping out Traci taking care of Gary, who had both good and bad days.

Maybe it was because I was tired, but by the second month I sensed something was a little off between Traci and me. I knew she had to be fatigued with all she was doing for Gary--more than I thought was necessary at times--so I didn't spend too much time worrying about that. I was a little more concerned, though, with the little looks Traci and Gary slyly exchanged several times while I was there, sort of like they had their own special language going on.

Things seemed to slide further downhill the next two months. I actually felt like I was imposing on their time together on several occasions. I was also somewhat surprised that Traci seemed slightly reserved in our sexual liaisons. After a week apart, I was ready to jump her bones upon seeing her, but she almost seemed to be bored. Again, I chalked that up to mental and physical fatigue.

I was out of days after four months, and while Gary had deteriorated, I knew he still had some good time left. Traci would have to pull the load by herself, and I would have to accept the fact that I was going to be alone for a month or more.

After I ran out of time off, our daughter Kaylee jumped into the fray to help out, which I thought was great since Gary was her godfather. She spent two different weeks helping out her mom.

Gary had to go into hospice about a month later, and from there it was just another month and he was gone. I flew back out to California one more time for the funeral. Traci was every bit as inconsolable as Gary's parents. Both of his parents thanked Traci and me endlessly for helping Gary. I deflected most of the thanks to my wife.

Traci was almost standoffish to me for the first week when she returned home, which I attributed to grief. Then it was as if a switch was flipped and for the next three weeks we made love or fucked every single day. I felt like a kid again.

A month after our return home, I got the shock of my life when Traci came out of our bathroom holding a positive pregnancy test. Thinking back on it, I should have been shocked that she didn't appear shocked herself, but I was too busy trying to stay upright after her announcement. Traci and I were both 45, our kids were 22 and 20, and wait, wasn't she on the pill?

"I'm sorry, Baby, but I forgot to bring my pills with me to California, and once I got out of the habit of taking them, I never gave it a thought again when I got home. You know neither one of us believes in abortion. We can do this again, you and me."

I heard myself agreeing with her from somewhere inside my head. Holy shit, I was going to be a father again!

I walked around with a stupid grin on my face for about a week. It didn't hurt that just as with her previous pregnancies, Traci's libido was ramped up, and we had sex every night, sometimes twice a night. It was almost too much to take, almost!

When my daughter came home for a long weekend, she and Traci went out for an afternoon of shopping for maternity and baby items; we had long ago discarded and given away everything from our earlier kids. The girls came home giddy and joking, and I must have carried in a dozen bags from the car.

The girls put together a quick dinner and we all laughed as Traci gave us her random thoughts about the difference between the stuff she bought today and what was available a couple of decades ago. She also noted that she didn't feel totally comfortable with all of the maternity clothes she bought because they were all made for women 10 to 20 years younger than her and made her feel a little out of place.

"Well, Mom, you can't help it if you're a MILF and somebody took it literally," Kaylee laughed.

I saw Traci give Kaylee a quick frown as I pondered her comment. It didn't slide past me that Kaylee said "someone" instead of "Dad." That was no throwaway comment, and my stomach began to churn. I remembered some of my feelings of discomfort when I would go to California to help with Gary.

I kept my thoughts to myself but kept my ears open the rest of the weekend. I heard several more comments that I knew had two meanings, and I wondered whether my daughter was trying to direct them at me or my wife. I tried subtly to find out one time Traci was out of the room, as I asked Kaylee how she felt about becoming a sister again after all these years.

I knew she was thinking hard about how she should answer me. Her eyes looked everywhere but at mine for about 30 seconds, then a giggle escaped her lips before she could cover with a fake cough.

"I think it's great that Mom is such a sexy woman and that you are such a stud."

She looked uncomfortable and found a reason to quickly leave the room. I popped two more Rolaids from the roll I had started to carry in the last week.

Traci got larger, and in my opinion, more beautiful every week, despite my continued feelings of unease. I just couldn't put my finger on things, or maybe I just didn't want to put my finger on it.

I was at the office a few months later when I got an unexpected phone call from Traci, who had taken an unpaid leave of absence from her job after being back to work for just three months.

"Hey, Dad, how about giving a girl a lift to the hospital today?" she asked in a sultry voice.

Since as far as I knew Traci was only about six, six and a half months along, and the tone of her voice was incredibly sexy, I wasn't following along with what she was asking me.

"Why the hospital, Hon? Is there something wrong?" I asked with more than a little worry in my voice.

"Well, Babe, my water broke and I'm just too lazy to walk to the hospital," she purred.

"Oh shit!" was all I could think to reply. I grabbed my car keys, ran into my boss's office to tell him my news and ran out to my car.

I lived 15 minutes from my office, but on that day I made the trip in 12 minutes flat. I just kept thinking that Traci was awfully nonchalant considering that she was only six, six and a half months along. I knew that premature birth was not good for the health of the baby.

I couldn't believe how calm Traci was when I got home, but I guess having had two other children gave her that confidence. Me, I was even more nervous than I was with the first two children.

Ten hours later I was the father of a beautiful, perfect second daughter... except that I wasn't. Sick to my stomach wouldn't even begin to explain how bad I suddenly felt.

After the nurse took the baby to clean her off, she started to hand her to me, but instinctively I cringed back, much to the nurse's shock.

"This is a full-term baby, isn't it, Doc?" I asked in little more than a whisper.

He looked at me, then at Traci, who was still being cleaned by another nurse. They exchanged meaningful looks, then I saw Traci give him an almost imperceptible headshake.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Marstley, but I don't have permission to discuss the baby's health with you. You are not on the privacy list. It's a HIPAA thing," he responded.

I'm not proud of myself, but I lost it at that point.

"Fuck HIPAA!" I shouted while he and every nurse in the delivery room jumped back. "If that's my child, I have every right to ask about her health, and if she's not mine and you know it, then you can't legally put my name down on the birth certificate without my permission... and boy... you definitely don't have it.

"Now get me a God-damned DNA test!"

It was deathly quiet as I turned on my heel and walked out of the delivery room, shedding my delivery room gear as I went. I briefly caught sight of my parents and Traci's parents in the delivery room as I walked out of the hospital.

I stuck around in the bar for shots number six and seven, and ate a hamburger. By this point, just about everybody who was anybody in my life had called me, except for the doctor with DNA results. I guessed that Traci didn't want to waste anybody's time, because at this point it was pretty much a done deal. Ah, fuck.

I guess seven shots of Jack and a ton of stress trumps having your wife give birth to another man's baby, because I slept like a brick that night. My voicemail and my message boxes were completely filled. Assuming nothing went wrong after I left, I was supposed to bring Traci and the baby home today. I took a shower and headed for the hospital, feeling like someone was beating the shit out of my head and stomach from the inside.