February Sucks What if she didn't... leave that night
Sorry this is yet another follow on of "
February Sucks
" by George Anderson.
I found the original story to be compelling, it felt like a punch in the guts, but I couldn't quite rationalise the behaviour of either Jim or Linda. I've seen other authors address this in some of the follows ups. This this version attempts to look at how they might have responded differently starting from Jim preventing his wife leaving with the 'villain of the peace' on the night in question.
Hope you enjoy it.
The first section is from George's original, some of the following text borrows from the original as well.
A few minutes later, the band took a break. In the relative quiet, we could hear loud laughter from another table, and turned to look.
"Hey, isn't that Marc LaValliere?" Phil was craning around me to see.
"It is, it is!" Dee squealed excitedly. Marc LaValliere was the star tight end on our city's football team. Unlike many others on the team, he made his year-round home here. He had the reputation of being a genuinely good guy, and he was as well known for his community activities as for his exploits on the field. Marc became the main topic of conversation at our table, as the guys talked about his football feats and the women praised his good works and good nature.
"It doesn't hurt that he's a hunk, either," Dee put in. Linda and I both knew who he was, but we weren't very interested in anything besides each other just then. We let the conversation wash over us, holding hands under the table.
"Hey, you two, get a room!" Linda and I looked at each other. We hadn't even been kissing. Well, not really kissing, anyway. My feeding her wings (so she wouldn't get sauce on her new dress, of course) didn't count. Besides, we'd already gotten a room. We were saved from further embarrassment when the band started again.
"Shall we dance here, or upstairs?" I whispered to Linda. Before she could reply, Jane interrupted.
"Look! He's coming this way!" Sure enough, Marc LaValliere had left his table and was heading for ours. I was amused by the reaction of the women at our table. Four of them primped and strutted, all but saying "pick me, pick me!" If you think a woman can't strut while she's sitting down, you have a lot to learn. Linda looked downward, and held my hand a little tighter.
"Hi, I'm Marc. Would you like to dance?" He was standing behind Linda's left shoulder, holding his hand out to her.
I felt Linda gasp as she dropped my hand as if it were a hot potato. I watched dumbstruck as she turned her back to me, gave Marc her right hand (it almost disappeared in his big paw) and gracefully rose from her chair.
"Hey, man, now my feelings are hurt. I thought she was just dancing with you tonight." Dave smiled as he needled me.
"Yeah, that's what I thought, too," I groused.
"Relax, Jim. It's just a dance." Jane tried to soothe me. I tried to believe her, but I couldn't help having a bad feeling about this.
The band played a couple of fast songs, and our whole table watched them dance. So did everyone else in the room. Marc was good, far better than I was, and Linda was clearly enjoying herself. Her partner and her dress combined to show her off to perfection.
"Don't they look great together? Come on, Jim, let's join them," Dee invited, clearly trying to distract me.
"Thanks, but no."
The next song was a slow one. I watched Linda melt into his arms, fitting perfectly as though she belonged there. He was good at that, too. Lots of practice, I'll bet, I thought to myself sourly. Marc said something to Linda; she smiled sweetly as she responded. He wasn't doing anything I could legitimately object to. He didn't dance any closer to her than I danced with Dee or Jane; his hands didn't go anywhere they weren't supposed to.
Another slow song, a ballad this time. I could see the band leader watching my wife and her partner, taking his cues from them. Marc was smiling as he held Linda in his arms; he was clearly pleased with whatever was going on. I'd seen enough. I rose from my chair, and felt Jane's hand on my arm.
"Wait, Jim. Let her have this. Don't ruin it for her."
I jerked my arm free and walked over standing next to them, trying my best to be polite:
"Would you mind if I cut in to have an anniversary dance with my wife?"
He just looked at me and held onto Linda: "I don't let anybody cut in."
Anger building I struggled to make sense of the position, feeling worse as I was suddenly conscious that everyone was looking in our direction. I turned to Linda but she hadn't moved.
"I'd like you to come with me" and held out my hand.
Shit she hesitated! I was stunned and thought she wasn't going to come with me that would be very awkward, Linda looked around and became very embarrassed, eventually she spoke.
"Sorry Marc, I should go."
He didn't look happy but let her go. I took her hand and led her back to our table. I was rattled: why was she sorry to him and clearly not me.
As we sat she hissed: "Why did you do that, you embarrassed me, whatever will Marc think of me."
"I did it because I wanted to dance with my wife, and frankly I couldn't give a shit about Marc thinks. You're sorry to him but not to me, exactly who do you want to spend your anniversary with."
She almost spat her reply "The way you are behaving, him actually!"
The table was deathly quiet.
I took a breath: "I need some fresh air I think we should go back to the hotel and talk."
She glared in response "You go if you like, I'm not leaving."
"Fine then if that's how you feel" and I walked out, but not before I caught the smirk on the face of Marc fucking LaValliere".
I expected Linda to catch me up but she didn't. My anger cooled as I walked the block and a half to the hotel, it was replaced by the deepest sadness I had ever known. I walked slowly and kept looking back but she wasn't there. Linda and I were supposed to be making this walk together, holding hands. Instead, I was alone as I entered what was supposed to have been our room. I turned on the light, and shut the door behind me. Suddenly, I was weary beyond the telling and flopped onto the bed.
Still I waited but no sign of Linda. I was hoping she was staying out with our friends and making a point, but maybe she was dancing with Marc again or worse. I considered going back but my pride wouldn't allow it. I shook my head, she actually said she would rather be with him!
I must have dozed off. When I came to, it was almost 1am and I was slumped over on the bed with an ache in my back. Linda was standing staring at me, it must have been her coming in that disturbed my sleep. I groggily come to and sat up as the memories of the night came flooding back to me.
Linda started: "Well thank you for a lovely anniversary, for embarrassing me in front of our friends and the whole bar, and before you accuse me of anything else, I just stayed chatting to our friends like we had planned, before you decided to run off in a selfish huff."
I looked at her somewhat bewildered; her certainty that she was 100% blameless was staggering.
"The only thing I did was ask my wife to dance; quite politely as I recall and you seemed to get very upset because I spoiled your moment with another man. You practically ran onto the floor with him, tell me at any part of the three dances did you consider either me or our anniversary."
She avoided a direct answer: "It was just dancing."
"That's not what your eyes and smile were saying, I'm your husband, I should be jealous when you look at another man like that. Did you mean it, that you would rather be with him?"
"Of course not, you were just acting like an idiot, so I threw that at you. Maybe I was having a moment with him, he's handsome an elite athlete and charming, I felt special but it was just a moment, I'll always want you, it's you I love."
"I love you too, maybe too much."
The energy seemed to drain from us both, we agreed to get some sleep and talk about it in the morning. We lay in the same bed it was tense and neither of us slept much, the plans for anniversary romance were a distant bitter memory.
We didn't really talk about it the next morning, we picked up the kids from Mrs Porter and made our way back home. The kids helped paper over the tension but I felt very unsettled and Linda remained somewhat distant. I had this uneasy feeling but couldn't pin it down, it occurred to me that she had been quick to point out that she stayed with our friends but then she hadn't returned until 1am. Maybe she was just proving a point after the argument, maybe. Usually we recovered from any arguments quickly and enjoy making up but this was lingering. I heard Linda on the phone to Dee, no doubt conducting a post mortem of the night's events and confirming I was an arsehole.
Their conversations can last hours so I decided to go back to the club. I knew the owner Brett pretty well; he was there last night and would hopefully confirm Linda stayed chatting to our friends into the small hours.
Brett was at the bar and I made the usually jokes about him living there and never going home. He'd seen our argument and knew why I was there.
"You did the right thing Jim, LaValliere is a prize prick and he goes after married women all the time. I think he gets off on taking another man's women and actually prefers it if the guy is there, it's like single women aren't enough of a challenge to him. You would be amazed: faithful wives I've known for years seem unable resist he usually leaves with them on the same night. A couple of guys tried to fight him, but that didn't work out too well for them.
That news didn't fill me with any confidence, but Brett quickly confirmed Linda and ours friends had been the last to leave just before 1am. I must have physically signed with relief as he looked at me. Then I caught it, just a hint of a hesitation.
"What else is there Brett?"
"It's probably nothing and I wouldn't like to cast any aspersions..."
"Go on... "
"LaValliere did go over to their table, he seemed to be chatting to all of them, nothing was inappropriate and I figured he might be apologising for any problems he caused, they were all smiling and he was only there for 10 minutes or so."
That didn't seem so bad I figured.
Brett continued "one other thing, they all know we're friends Jim and I saw Linda look over a couple of times, so..."
He didn't have to say it; they knew they had an audience.
When I came home, Linda seemed brighter; we chatted about the kids and enjoyed a meal. From then on things seemed to settle back into normal routine. By Tuesday Linda was more upbeat; I started hoping we were putting everything behind us. As we finished eating she breezily mentioned going over to see Dee on Friday.
On Friday I asked what time Linda was going over to Dee's and she mentioned leaving about 7pm. She jumped into the bath at 6, at 6.30 she was in some shapeless joggers and sweat top and getting ready to go, she carried down a small hold all and left it by the door.
"You need to think carefully about what you are doing Linda."
She didn't reply, so I continued...
"I know where you are going."
