I USED TO LOVE HER....
(This is another Jim and Linda continuation. Hope it doesn't suck. It IS February.)
Well, baby used to stay out all night long,
She made me cry, she done me wrong,
She hurt my eyes open, that's no lie,
Tables turn and now her turn to cry.
Because I used to love her
But it's all over now.
(Rolling Stones. Written by Bobby and Shirley Womack.)
Jim walked away from the club. He was in a state of shock at what his wife had done to him and his children. He walked slowly along, trying to calm down and consider his new situation. Immediately, and without much thought, he decided that he needed to a) see that his children suffered the least possible harm, and b) see that his wife and her seducer suffered the most possible harm, consistent with the first objective. Thinking in that way was natural for him.
He went to the hotel room and collected his belongings, leaving hers. He went to the desk and checked out, telling the guy there that his wife's belongings remained in the room, and that the cleaners could take them. The guy looked at him funny but nodded. As Jim walked away, the guy was on the phone with someone.
Jim got the car and drove home, thinking all the way about what his options were. He left the asshole aside for further consideration. By the time he got home, he had the beginnings of a plan. He doffed his dancing clothes and donned some work garb.
He went to the basement. It was basically unfinished. But it had a door to the back yard, a small bathroom with a shower, and a half-sized refrigerator. There was plenty of room for a futon sofa. He started cleaning the place out. His tools, such as they were, all went into a corner, later to be put into the garage. He used the shop-vac for about half an hour, emptied it and ran it for another thirty minutes. When he was finished with that, he used a wet mop on all the floors, and cleaned the bathroom. He opened the door to air the place out. Of course it was cold out, but he didn't really notice that. He was focused.
He went out to the garage and got a camp cot and a sleeping bag. He closed the door - finally - and slept. The cleaning had taken him until five am. He slept until eight, when the sunlight woke him.
He called his parents and asked them to pick up the kids from the sitter and keep them for a day or two. He gave them a brief explanation of the reason for the request. His parents trusted him to handle the situation. He'd always been able to be calm and think things through, even when he had every reason to be furious or frightened. In truth, they thought of him as a cold fish.
He went upstairs and got as much of his clothing and other kit as he could. Back and forth he went. The clothes were stored in an old chest of drawers that he also got from the garage. For each trip he made up and down the two flights, he also carried Linda's knitting and sewing material up to their old room. She had it stored downstairs. He needed the room. He stacked it all in his now empty closet. What didn't fit there went next to his side of the bed. Well, what once was his side.
He surveyed his old room. He was satisfied. There was nothing there that would give any indication that he had ever occupied it. He had been erased. He had erased himself.
Then he made coffee, and a list. The list was for Target. He got in the car and went there. It was ten am. He had no idea when, or if, Linda would return. He didn't give a shit, anyway.
He returned from the store before noon, with his haul. He had: a metal double futon bed, a small TV with a digital antenna, a knob with a lock and key for the door from the first floor to the basement, one for the door to the outside, and some beer, snacks and other supplies.
He unloaded the car and stashed most of the things. Then he took out the doorknob from the door to the basement and replaced it with a keyed set. That required some adjustments and took longer than he had anticipated. Then he installed a deadbolt, which could be operated with the same key. As he was just completing the chore, he heard the front door open. Then he heard Linda come through and say, "I'm back. It's the same old me."
She stopped in the kitchen doorway. He looked at her and turned to finish with the new lock.
Linda said, "What are you doing, Jim?"
He paid no attention to her.
She said, "I can understand that you're upset. I will make it up to you. We can still be the same. It was one night."
He said nothing. He didn't look at her at all.
She asked, "When are we getting the kids?"
No reply. Not even a glance.
Linda stomped up the stairs. About a minute later he heard a shriek and Linda pounded down the stairs.
She shouted, "What have you done? Where's your stuff?"
Jim was by then sitting at the kitchen table. He nodded toward the basement door.
Linda flopped down across from him. She was still wearing her fancy blue dress but was barefoot. He looked at her. She seemed unsure of herself. Frightened, even.
He said, "I'm saying this once. As of the time you left with the jerk, we are no longer man and wife. I will never have any sexual contact with you. Ever. You can screw whoever you want. So can I. But we're toast. You can't have guys in here when the kids are here. Neither will I."
"You....you need to stop this. Jesus, Jim. One night. One night."
He arose and went downstairs to the basement. She heard the snick of a deadbolt.
Soon she heard a power tool running. Jim was switching out the outer door hardware.
She also heard an old Rolling Stones song playing. As she sat there, she became aware that it was on a loop. And that told her that it was a message song. She got the message but didn't believe it for a minute.
