Ensuring Some Vows Are Followed

Those that want their Fiction to mirror reality might want to skip this one.

Mark Knopfler: "Funny that once I used to give a damn and I'd do anything in the whole wide world for you."

= = = =

Gary:

Should I have seen it coming? Maybe if I'd been married a dozen times. Since this is my first marriage I guess I missed the signs.

My name is Gary Rapid and I've been married to Taylor for six years. We were both twenty six when the wedding bells rang. Taylor runs a bakery and she worked right up until her water broke for each of our two kids. Kenna is five and Aaron is three.

Taylor has some odd likes and dislikes. As a husband you learn how to deal with them. She hates polka-dots and stripes, loves paisley prints, and the soft shades of pastel colors. Count purple and orange as a couple of her dislikes. Any food that ends in ESE is off the menu. Good luck with oatmeal or hotdogs. Like I said, it's irrational but then again I probably have my list as well.

I work as a production analyst for a local oil company. Nothing too exciting about it, just a lot of numbers.

Taylor and I have a somewhat active social calendar as we seem to end up at a party at least twice a month. She's developed lots of friendships at the bakery and some have filled her head with many strange ideas. Like it or not I get to listen to their inane ramblings at these parties. Can your eyes get stuck if you roll them too often?

Our sex life seems pretty good to me. Neither Taylor nor I push the envelope so there's nothing kinky.

So back to my problem. It was a Wednesday when I arrived home from work. Dinner smelled good. The kids were watching some animated show. Normally Taylor doesn't drink until the kids are in bed but this time she had a rocks glass with a golden liquid in it.

After I gave her a peck on the cheek, she picked up a manila envelope and gave it to me.

"You need to look at this. There's going to be some changes around here."

Silly ignorant me. I thought maybe she had a wish list of honey-dos. Nope, it was a Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. This was a copy and Taylor had signed the last page.

"What the hell is this?"

"Relax. I don't plan on filing this unless you choose to be stubborn. My attorney has my signed copy ready to file with the court. She assures me that I'll get the kids, the house, and lots of child support and maintenance. You can commit financial suicide by refusing to go along with my plans."

"And what plans are those?"

"I intend to take a lover, maybe two."

"No way! Not happening!" without trying to raise my voice loud enough to scare the kids.

"Have it your way. I'll have my lovers and all your money or you can take what I give you and be a good boy. You'll still get lucky every now and then."

I turned and walked out the door. Who the hell is this woman? What have I done to bring this on? Rather than risk doing something I'd do time for, I spent the night on the couch at my folk's place.

+ + + +

Taylor:

I ambushed Gary last night. He left and didn't come home. He will. The thought of giving up his precious money will wilt his spine. I'll get a chance to try out a few lovers and Gary will just have to live with it. Maybe this is a passing fancy but then again maybe it isn't. I'll have fun finding out.

After closing the bakery at 2 Pm, I picked up the kids from daycare and headed to the grocery store. Twenty minutes later, with my basket still full of shopping bags, I was buckling the kids in the car. That task done I started loading the groceries. A kid, maybe ten or twelve years old, rushed up to me.

"Are you Taylor Rapid?"

"I am. Who are you?"

"I'm supposed to give this to you."

The kid was running away as fast as he could across the parking lot. It was a small envelope, not sealed. There was a note inside.

'Mrs. Rapid

We've been retained to end your life. Our promise is to not hurt your children at the time of your demise. We'll be in touch.

Until Death Do Us Part, LLC.'

I was shaking badly. Leaning up against my car it was all I could do to not upchuck. Staggering to the driver's seat I sat for fifteen minutes sweating and shaking. That bastard isn't going to get away with this. I called the police.

When the policeman arrived I was incensed. His response did little to placate me.

"So, you're having marital problems. Why should I believe you didn't print this note yourself? I suggest that you go down to the station and file a complaint once you know who sent this to you, that is if you ever find out. We have better things to do than referee marital disputes."

My next call was to my attorney. She was sympathetic and suggested I file for divorce immediately, which I agreed to do.

Gary strolled in at his normal time. His smirk pissed me off but I didn't say anything. He ignored me and spent time with the kids.

As I was taking a dish out of the microwave I turned to see Gary pointing his finger like a gun at me. He pulled the imaginary trigger and then grinned at me. I dropped the dish.

Gary didn't stay for dinner as I had called the police again. They told me to get some evidence or quit bothering them. Assholes. My life is on the line and they couldn't care less.

+ + + +

The next afternoon, with my parents watching the kids, I left to visit my attorney. Gary is just crazy enough to have me killed and I haven't slept very long the last few nights. Once inside the lobby I checked the time and found that I had fifteen minutes to kill. As I headed towards the ladies restroom another lady casually got up from the chair she was sitting in and followed me. I beat her to the door by a few seconds. No problem anyway as there were several vacant stalls.

Before I could close my stall, she pushed the door open and shoved one big fat gun into my face.

"Open wide honey and don't say a word."

When my mouth opened she pushed the gun into the back of my mouth. My tonsils reacted causing me to gag.

"Don't worry sweetie. I'm not here to kill you...today that is. My name's not important, call me Jackie Ripper. Sit down as you're probably going to piss and shit yourself. I'm not a completely uncaring person. We at the LLC want you to have time to properly say your 'Goodbyes' to your children. For the next few weeks, as long as you wear this purple polka-dotted hat and this orange striped blouse, I'll let you live. If I see you without your kids or not dressed as I just stated, you probably won't see another sunrise. Did I make myself clear enough for you sugar?"

I nodded up and down.

"Good. I wouldn't leave this restroom until one minute before your appointment. If I hear you on your phone you'll never see your kids again. Oh, and a little homework for you. Figure out how you wish to die. Poison, knife, and bullets you know. Old age isn't a choice. Now finish your little potty break and don't leave until its time. Are we good on this cupcake?"

I nodded my understanding.

"Good! Try to run and you'll leave me no choice. Now, close your eyes and start praying."

The gun left my mouth as tears streamed down my face. It wasn't tears streaming down my legs. When I heard the restroom door close I opened my eyes. Along with the polka-dotted hat and orange-striped blouse, there was a wig and toy gun on the floor in front of me. I was shaking worse than anything I'd ever experienced.

With my attorney running the show, the police finally took a report. They wanted the hat and blouse but my attorney turned them away. I looked like a circus clown wearing them, but wear them I did.

Before letting the policeman go, he agreed to do a quick check of my house. Nothing out of place. My attorney left a text message that Gary had been served with a restraining order.

When the kids asked where their sperm donor was I told them lies.

+ + + +

Daddy brought over his semi-automatic pistol for my protection. With my parents around I felt somewhat safe. The waiting was horrible.

The following morning I wore my clown outfit, freshly washed. My kids didn't attend daycare today nor would they going forward. Until the police put an end to this threat I wasn't letting them out of my sight. My nerves were frayed.

Around 11 Am two kids started shooting cap guns outside of the bakery. Little shits made me piss my panties. I politely asked them to take their game elsewhere.

"No way lady. Some bad-ass gave us money to play right here."

I called the cops. Apparently I've got a reputation down at the station as they wasted little time in brushing me off.

My regular customers asked why I was in such a sour mood and I let it slip why I feared for my life. Mistake on my part. Before I closed shop at 2 Pm a news crew dropped by to get my story. Before responding I checked with my attorney and she told me to get my story out there. Maybe somebody would grow a conscience and nail Gary's ass.

My phone and email exploded with friends and acquaintances offering support.

With my parents moving into the house I felt a little more at ease, at least until the morning. The bakery had a knife planted firmly in the wooden doorframe. The note pinned under the blade read 'Your fate awaits you!'

I filed another report with the police who kept my customers at bay for a good hour. How hard is it to pull a knife out of a damn door frame?

Wearing the same outfit day after day was getting on my nerves. Every morning was a challenge. Was I using my children as shields? Probably. I made sure to proudly march them to the car and then hastily buckle them in. There was always a sigh of relief.

A package arrived mid-morning. I really didn't pay much attention to the person who dropped it off. My bakery was filled with flowers from people offering prayers and support. When I opened this package I shrieked. It was a Halloween prop depicting a decapitated head. I sat in my bathroom shaking and crying. This is NOT funny.

The local news broadcast was keeping daily tabs on my ordeals. Gary had followed the restraining order, much to my chagrin. If only the bastard would slip up maybe all of this would go away.

Although not normally open on Sunday I felt safer in the bakery than I did in my house. Any desire to start searching for lovers had diminished to near nil. That bastard is going to pay when they finally connect the dots. At least the police had installed CCTV cameras monitoring the bakery. My attorney informed me that the police had nothing to connect Gary to the death threat. There wasn't any record of 'Until Death Do Us Part, LLC.' Why am I not surprised?

As far as business goes, the bakery was doing great. Kenna and Aaron loved the attention the customers showered on them. Those that didn't know the story were giving me purple and orange gifts. Polka-dots and stripes were now more common than not. I hated it.

Chinese food was being dropped off at the house. Anonymous donors my ass. The police were losing interest and floated the idea that I might have orchestrated the whole thing. That brought out a few hate-mongers boycotting my bakery.

The fire department showed up when they received a call saying someone smelled natural gas. That shut down the bakery for a few hours while they checked out my furnace. No, not that furnace although I was getting horny. I'm used to having sex and it has been many many days now.

Then I got the note 'Time's running out. Make peace with those you love.'

After a visit to my MD I was now taking high blood pressure pills. I was short-tempered and getting bitchy with everyone. Gary will pay!

I couldn't risk leaving the house to go to the bakery. If that Jackie bitch wants to off me she's going to have to bust into my house to get to me.

That worked for one day. I was going crazy. It had been over a week since I'd eaten a good meal. I was surviving on protein drinks.

The last note really got to me 'Na na na na. Na na na na. Hey hey hey. GOODBYE!'

I made a decision and spent almost all day on the internet. Making several calls I thought I'd found a solution. Dressing in my clown outfit I grabbed the kids and headed to the agreed upon grocery store parking lot. That's when it happened. Soon there were police cars everywhere.

+ + + +

'Our lead story tonight is an arrest in a murder for hire sting. Talk about a divorce gone off the rails. Taylor Rapid had filed numerous reports with the police accusing her husband of hiring someone to end her life. Tonight she is behind bars after giving an undercover policeman two thousand dollars to kill her husband.'

Taylor was sentenced to ten to twenty years for solicitation to commit first degree murder. Orange seems to be her wardrobe of choice now. When the lights shine through the bars the shadows form stripes on her outfit. The other inmates kind of pick on her. The purple bruises look like polka-dots. She has had quite a few lovers. None by her choice though. Quite fitting, don't you think?

The police were unable to trace the ten thousand dollars Gary withdrew from his 401K. He said he lost it betting the over-under on the Celtics.

Gary got the children and the house in the divorce. With Taylor incarcerated, Gary successfully petitioned the court to sell the house and move his kids to the opposite coast. Slowly Kenna and Aaron are forgetting their birth mother. The live-in nanny is working out quite nicely for everyone.

= = = =

For those that don't follow sports, the Celtics are a basketball team from Boston. They got strangled in the playoffs.