Just Accept It - an Homage

I asked for BigGuy33's permission to add or elaborate on any of his stories. I can't beat his story and I texted him and promised no over the top violence. But I felt there should be some closure with his girls and an explanation of the on-going trauma to his ex. The two little girls did not deserve any of this; the slut deserved more.

I read this story, loved it, but felt bad for the kids. The original story was "JUST ACCEPT IT" by BigGuy33. I recommend reading it if you have not already. It was posted in 2017.

I never posted about it, but it worked on my subconscious. Like I said, I felt for the kids, and the M/C. The Bitch and her folks, not so much. So here is my take.

In family court, the mother/wife can do almost anything, and get away with it. Look at the news, read the articles. We're screwed, guys.

So, the Bear will endeavor to elaborate. This is all on me. BigGuy33's story was great; hopefully, this will add a little bit. (It's what I do, sometimes.) If not, the blame is to be sent to Conroe, Texas.

Enjoy, please. This is for the children.

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I stretched and looked out over the beach.

'Chumphon, Thailand. Who'da thunk it,' I mused.

It had been eight years since we had arrived and I had drowned my phone, and my old life, in the pristine blue waters. I felt bad about polluting the bay we now lived on. So I had retrieved the phone the next day and buried it. Much more fitting. It was a fitting end to my seven year sham of a marriage.

We have a four thousand sq. foot ranch home on the beach. You can't own property in Thailand, you would have to have a 'shell' company own the property, but you CAN own the house. Weird, huh??

I had hired an ex-Thai commando and his wife to look after the house and care for the three of us. Aroon Saelim and his wife Lamai were in their early fifties and were perfect. My kids took to them like ducks to water. Soon they were referring to them as Gram and Gramps. In turn, they loved my daughters as though they were theirs.

They had no children of their own and lived in a small bungalow attache to the main house by a breezeway. Aroon had been wounded by drug smugglers and had been retired with a small pension. They were a God-send.

I had worried about Lucy and Janie- or Lily and Riley, as they used to be known. The kids had some very bad times at first but after about three weeks their nightmares lessened, then ceased, and they were starting to respond to their new names.

Henry, or Michael, as I was now known, had managed to start a security and computer services firm in town, and with the benefit of our new Australian identities, provided by my good friend in America, were quickly accepted in the community. Michael Davies was well liked, and fancied by several of the local ladies, both native and ex-pats. But Mike was devoted to his children and didn't date much; hardly at all, in fact. I had left at age 29 years; I was now 37. I am Micheal Davies, formerly Henry Jeffers. I was married to one Laura Jeffers nee Swanson. That was 8 years ago, before I left in the middle of the night with my two four year old daughters, the twins, Lucy (formerly Lily) and Janie (formerly Riley) Jeffers (now Davies).

We attended the small local Catholic Church, St. Patrick's, and the pastor, Jesuit Father Armand DeSousa, a native of Belgium, became a confidant of sorts. He had heard my confession and had counseled me many times. He couldn't excuse my actions- but he understood them. When the kids turned five years old, they were enrolled in the local Catholic School, Our Lady of Lourdes, and excelled in all their studies. Now they were twelve years old and the questions started in earnest. But I digress.

It was an innocent question, from Lucy, that started it.

"Daddy, what really happened with Mom? What did mommy die from, da? The kids at school always ask, and Janie and I don't really know."

Janie stopped reading the book she had been engrossed in, or I thought had been engrossed in, and looked at me with a piercing stare. Of course she did: they were twins.

I had told the girls that mommy had been involved in an accident and she had died. That I was so sad that we had moved away in the middle of the night so that we could make a fresh start. After a while I almost believed it myself. I felt guilty telling the kids this story. I had done it to save myself the horror of losing my children to the cunt. But my subterfuge had come home to roost.

I looked at the two of them. It was crunch time; I had to decide between the truth or further elaborating on the lie I had started when we left that night eight years ago. But I am too much of a coward. And they were only twelve, almost thirteen years old. How could I explain it to them? I needed some time to figure out the right thing to do.

Yeah, that's right. I was stalling.

But I had to make it right.

"Wait here a minute." I got up and went to my room and retrieved a photo of their mother. I came back into the family room and gathered them up around me.

I showed them her photo.

"Your mother came home one day and gave me an ultimatum. She said that she 'needed' more physical affection then I was could give her. She was going to go out on dates and sleep with other men, but that we would still be married. She told me if I divorced her, she would take you away from me and I would never see you again.

"She said that this was how the world was supposed to be. That women were meant to be the bosses in a marriage, or relationship, and that she would be 'calling the shots' from now on."

I didn't know any other way to tell them. I'm not a shrink, nor a child psychologist. But the lies had to cease. One way or the other, I had to come clean. I also felt like I had failed my children. Thanks in no small part to my slut wife, but still on me.

But now they knew. Their father had stolen them and left in the middle of the night. What would they think? What would they want? I braced myself for the end of my life.

Lucy sat there with eyes as big as saucers. Janie just stared, at me, then at her sister. Lucy looked down at her mother's photo, then back at her sister, and then back at me.

"Why didn't you call grandma and grandpa? THEY could have helped us, could have yelled at mom and told her it was wrong?"

For the first time, Janie spoke.

"Grandma and Grandpa didn't like you, did they, da??"

Stunned would have been an understatement. I stared bug-eyed at my daughter. What do I do now? How did she know? I stuttered, then took a deep breath.

"No, they didn't. I don't know how they feel now, but they didn't." This was something I would have to check on. As a matter of fact, I had no clue at all how things were back in 'the world'.

I will probably have to check on that, too.

My daughters sat looking at their mother's picture. Then they looked up at me and stared. THEN they jumped me and pushed me back in my chair, hugging me and kissing me.

"Please don't cry, daddy," said Lucy. "And don't even think of leaving us. We love you. We always have. And we don't want to lose you."

Janie was softly sobbing into my shirt.

"Oh, da, we were so afraid you had done something to mommy and would be taken away from us. We were so scared.

"But now we want the whole story. You owe us!" They were adamant.

And these two were only twelve years old. And now they had made their dad cry, too.

"O.K., I will tell you everything I can. But again, you're twelve years old and there are some things I don't want you to know. You already know more than I was going to tell you."

"Daddy, there is the internet. What don't you think we won't understand or find out??"

Stinkers.

Janie piped up, "So, you're saying our mother was a slut and she disrespected you and your marriage. She was basically a bad person. And Grandma and Grandpa were jerks, for whatever reason. What else, da?"

Cripes, wasn't that enough?

"Well, she was going to do whatever she wanted to and sleep with whomever she wanted to and I couldn't do anything about it. But I had to stay and earn money for her to spend and take care of the house, the yard, the cars and you two. Or else...."

"Or else what?", said Lucy

"She would divorce me, take you two away, and I would be working to give her money. She would have the house, and she would make sure I never saw you again. I couldn't live with that. Maybe I didn't make the right decision, but as far as I could see, it was my only decision.

"I tried calling your grandparents went she left the first night on her first 'date'.

"It turns out your grandmother had set her up to think this way and to do what she did. Your grandfather was too much of a coward to protest. He was what she wanted me to become." I looked down at the floor in embarrassment. Crunch time. I took another deep breath and rose.

"Wait here."

I went into my room and returned with my laptop. Eight years ago I had recorded that night. I dumped it to the cloud and then downloaded it to my laptop. I had listened to it many times, wondering if I had heard wrong, looking for something else I could have done. I found nothing, other than divorce. But the girls had never heard it. They only had my word against their mother's reputed statements.

Their eyes were huge as I booted up the fateful nights conversation. They sat and listened, stunned by the words from a woman they did not remember. Their eyes widened, leaked tears, then hardened as the bitch tore my heart out. Actually, due to my foreknowledge, it was only minor surgery. I was already ready for her betrayal.

I still wasn't sure if we would survive. But my daughters obviously were made of sterner stuff than I had given them credit for.

It was so quiet. I raised my eyes and looked at the girls. They were staring at each other and you could almost see the link between their eyes. Then Lucy turned and smiled- with tears in her eyes.

"Do you know Abigail Smith, the girl at school? The one who always hangs around us because she never seems to have her parents with her?

"And Naomi Okala, the girl form Okinawa? Her mother is never at school, and her father is always sad. Daddy, we don't want that for us. They both think you are fantastic, a super dad."

"But we know better, da," said Janie. She giggled. "We know you are just our dad. And we wouldn't have it any other way." The mugging and the hugs resuming and there was more laughter and smiles then tears.

I felt a hell of a lot better.

"We will talk some more when you feel like it. But please, don't tell anyone about this. Keep it our secret. O.K.??"

"O.K., da.

"We'll make it, da," said Lucy.

"We love you, da," said Janie.

The next day was Wednesday, and Wednesday was soccer practice. When the girls first came home and said they wanted to try out for the football team, I about had a conniption fit, stating categorically that it was not going to be. It was too dangerous. I didn't even know they had football in Thailand.

The girls were nonplussed and looked at each other, then at me. Then they both burst out laughing.

My dumb-ass quotient went up three levels when they simultaneously said, "SOCCER, DADDY!!"

"Oh."

That's all I had.

So they tried out for the team, and they both made it. They played a little the first year and they were pretty good. And they loved it. They got better each year. Now they were twelve, in the 7th grade, and starting to mature.

Starting? Hell, they had me beat.

I was in the stands, watching the game with Father Armand. He liked to watch the kids play because he missed playing in Belgium. He was a little 'portly' so watching was his only outlet. And sitting after hours at the game gave him an excuse to have his one weekly Foster's Ale. I was drinking Coca-Cola 'cause I was driving.

Lucy grabbed a pass from a team mate and streaked down field. She saw a defender making a beeline towards her and threw a beautiful fake at them, and cut towards the goal. It was so good a fake that her legs went one way, but her upper body kept moving towards the goal. Down she went in a pile, and when she tried to get up, she screamed. Her left leg had decided to not work and she couldn't get up. Whistles blew, girls screamed and Lucy's father was already over the low fence and racing towards her.

Oh, wait, that's me!

Yeah, it was broken. Her coach and the trainers were fussing over her and I was hyperventilating. That's when Janie looked at me and said, in a concerned voice, "DAD, BREATH!! It's only a broken leg."

In between groans, Lucy hissed at her sister, "Yeah, but it's not YOUR broken leg!"

Sisters, right?

The Emergency squad came and she was transported to the hospital. I was right behind and was ushered in- to fill out insurance forms and consent forms. Just like in the States.

After a while, my life changed-drastically. Janie had come out to sit with me, consoling me, telling me everything would be o.k., and I was waiting to go back and see Lucy, and that Lucy would be the talk of her class with her cast.

Great, now every hormone stoked male in fifty miles would be ......

WOW!!

I'm trying to come up with a better description. Wait, I got it.

OH, WOW!! Yeah, that's better.

I looked up at the petite black haired woman walking across towards us. Her hair was done up in a bun, but if I was any connoisseur of fashion, it would be down to he pert little ass. Of course, she was only about 5' 2" tall, so it might not be that long. She was pretty, though. Scratch that; she was gorgeous. High cheek bones, deep set green eyes, full lips, all in perfect symmetry to her round face. Pert breasts, not too big. Hey, God doesn't make junk, and I can look.

She moved with a graceful stride as she consulted her tablet and raised her head, looking around. Her eyes spotted us and her face lit up. If it was possible, she got even more beautiful.

"Monsieur Davies? I am Dr. Yvette Damond; I took care of your daughter, aah..." again as she consulted her tablet, "Aah, yes, Lucy. She is going to be fine, Monsieur. A little groggy for a while but that is to be expected. The cast will need to be kept on for at least a month or two, and we will want to see her again." She was eyeing me up and down.

"She was adamant about me seeing her again, so I suppose we will see you again also, too."

The smile told me I was being set up. Janie elbowed me.

"Say thank you, dad."

"Thank you, Dad", I manged to say. No, wait, did I really say that?? Janie rolled her eyes and chuckled.

"AHH, yes, Janie. Your sister said that your father would probably need some looking after." She chuckled. Again, I was being inspected like a prize steer.

She produced a card,

"If you need any further assistance", and the eyes narrowed, "feel free to contact me -- for ANYTHING."

I'm SO glad I am in control. Janie was about to bust a gut and with that, Lucy was wheeled out in a wheel chair. The grin on her face was probably due to the painkillers and the extreme angst her father (me) was being subject to. Janie bounded to her side and told me to go get the car. Doctor Damond extended her hand, said, "Ashante, Monsieur Davies", turned to Lucy and Janie, winked, and said to take care of each other and with a sideways glance at me, 'and your father,' and turned on her little white sneakers. And sashayed away.

And WHAT a sashay!!

We wheeled out to my Land Rover and I helped my invalid daughter into the car. We drove home to be greeted by Aroon and Lamai. They were fussing over my girls and helped Lucy to her bedroom. That's when the 'hunt' began.

By this, I meant the girls going almost full time into researching our former family. I got a wheelchair for Lucy, and crutches, and with Janie and I assisting her practicing, she started getting mobile. I upgraded her to an electric wheelchair and voi-la (my French was improvising, too) she became a mobile terror. She started back to school and was doing very well. Meanwhile, I had my techs come and set up their bedrooms with internet and wireless. The search commenced in earnest. They got access to the recordings I had made of my 'loving wife' dissertation on the future of our 'marriage' (if that's what you could call it) and I let them draw their own conclusions. The conclusions weren't good.

The visits to the clinic commenced also, and Dr. Damond became a part of our lives. Especially mine. She was a widowed lady, her husband having been a doctor also, and he had died in a boating accident six years before. They had been with the French branch of Doctors Without Borders, working in Cambodia at the time. She had family in France, but decided she liked the Far East so she took a spot at the hospital in Thailand and here we were. She was 35 years old, no children and 'playing the field'. She informed me that she had had a few 'friends with benefits as you Americans say.'

"After all, Monsieur, I AM French," she deadpanned. Then she informed me that her field playing days were over. She handed me a report from the hospital stating that she was in excellent health, and was 'clean'. Then she informed me that we were exclusive, unless I felt otherwise.

"But I think you feel the same way a I do, Monsieur. And I feel you are the 'one'."

As she later told me, she felt like she was done playing when she met me, but wanted to be sure. The girls were ecstatic, using words like 'took you long enough, da', and 'about time'.

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Back in the 'World'

I found out that my wife and her parents had not fared well in our absence. My daughters were four years old when we left. Now they were pushing thirteen. The cast was upgraded to a walking cast, and starting to itch like a son of a gun. Their school work was excellent and all their spare time was spent researching their mother and her parents. They started with broad inquiries. Federal data bases, State data bases, County data bases, Municipal data bases.

Then they hit the courts and finally Facebook, Twitter, Snap-chat, Google, Yahoo, Kintone, Aiven, Quickbase, Caspio, ZohoCreator, Instaclustr, DataGrip. You name it, we checked it.

Hell, I did this for a living, and I had to look a couple of them up before I let them use them. They were all 'discrete' inquires, no IP trail. Nothing to lead back to us. It's amazing what's out there, if you know where to look.

It seems that Laura had spent every spare penny trying to find them, and by extension, me.

It got to the point that her father finally grew a pair and left, abandoning them both. Laura and her mother filed bankruptcy and Laura tried to sell the house. It was so far under water and she was so broke, that she couldn't even get a Realtor to list it. The bank took it, and her car. She wound up going on line to file an abandonment lawsuit. It took several months to file as she had no money to pay the fees. After three years, the divorce finally went through. But she and her mother were both broke. The police considered the abandonment and kidnapping cases as 'cold', Capital "C". The statute of limitations was five years for the kidnapping.

The theft of their money-well, the only thing they could prove was that some money was missing. How? Where? Who took it?? No clue. (My guys were good.) There was a case about embezzlement for the house being mortgaged. But it went cold, too. Computer records seemed to point to accounts in Germany. (Like I said, real good.)

After ten years, the searches stopped. The P/I's and police department gave up (no money for one, too much of a bother for the other.) Laura and her mother had to get jobs-Laura became a cocktail waitress at a strip club, her mom working in the deli-section at the local supermarket. Both putting in fifty-sixty hour weeks, and on weekends, just to pay bills and service the debts rung up.