Not Liely

NOT LIKELY

I was standing at the bar I frequented when I spied a group of young women. They looked older than college girls. I assumed it was one of those 'Girls Night Out' events. All of the girls were attractive, but as I watched, there were only three of them accepting dances and drinks from the men. The fourth was the most attractive: tall, slim, long black hair, a pointy nose, and nice tits and ass. No part of her was that special, but the parts fit together well.

After an hour of repeated rejection behavior on her part, the one girl got up. I thought she might be leaving, but she moved to a previously unoccupied table. She looked very sad. Her move was probably meant to get away by herself, but it didn't work. Instead, the men seemed to think that they had been able to separate one from the herd and the predators moved in. I had not seen them in the bar before. The first two pursuers were shooed away by the girl. The third was more persistent. Obnoxiously so. Her "No" was getting louder and I could see her face was getting angrier and angrier.

I was moving before I realized I had made the decision to intervene. "Hello, sweetheart, I'm sorry I'm late." I kissed her quickly on her lips and hoped she wouldn't act too surprised. Before he could notice her facial expression, I turned to the guy and said, "I appreciate you keeping my girl company. Thanks, my name is Rick." I held out my hand to shake. He was in shock.

Luckily, the girl caught on to my ploy and cooperated. "Rick, it's about time you showed up. I was almost ready to leave."

The guy chimed in, "Yeah, it's shitty that you've left such a pretty girl alone this long. You must not care about her very much."

"You're absolutely right. I should have known about the five-car-pile up on I-24 in advance. I had to waste my time and make use of my CPR/First Aid skills on two of the victims until the EMTs came. I guess I'll have to make sure I talk to my psychic more often." The conversation with the prick turned adversarial quickly.

I saw a group of guys at the bar I had seen and talked to before. I raised a glass to them, and they returned the gesture. I said to the girl, "You needn't have worried dear, my friends said they would keep an eye out until I got here." The guy looked at the men at the bar, lowered his hostility level and went away.

The girl turned to me. "Thanks for the rescue. I guess the kiss wasn't too much to pay for your knight in shining armor routine."

"Well, I thought it would be more believable if we kissed. Besides, I wanted to kiss you and that might be my only chance ever. If you're nice, I might let you kiss me back." She sat silently but a grin took over her face before I continued.

"Girlfriend, I think this is the part where we introduce each other, find out how many things we have in common and then make plans for a real date."

"Well, my name is Clarice and why does it seem like we are in a play where you have the script, but I don't?"

"D.W., which stands for Dwayne Warren, and it's called 'Improv.'" She laughed.

"Damn you, D.W. I came here tonight to have a miserable time, wallowing in my self-pity. Now you've gone and spoiled it all, making me laugh."

"I would be glad to wallow with you if that's what you would like. For the record, my reason for self-pity is that my fiancée dumped me two weeks before our wedding. It seems like my best man really was the best man."

"Ouch. That's horrible, but I might be able to top it. I caught my boyfriend cheating on me with my mother!"

We both started laughing. I commented, "We seem to be a perfect couple. I just don't know what we are perfect at except being screwed by someone else."

"Rick, given our apparent luck, we would probably screw up screwing each other. One of us would try to screw clockwise and the other counter-clockwise." Again, we laughed.

I took a shot. "There's one way we could find out."

"Since it would be bizarre, totally against my usual way of doing things, and consistent with what's happened the last few minutes, let's do it. I need a good revenge fuck and you seem to need one also. Do you have a car with a big backseat?"

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable in a bed?"

"I don't want to wait that long. I might lose my nerve. Come on."

We went out to the car, got in my back seat and screwed. I can't believe I lasted as long as I did. After we finished, she started crying. I asked, "What's the matter? Was I that bad?"

"No, you were fine. I just can't believe I gave myself to a perfect stranger."

"At least you think I was perfect." He hit me on the arm but was smiling.

"So D.W., am I just another notch?"

"I don't know what you are except an excellent lover. It seems a little backwards, but I would like to know more about you before we make love again."

"You think we're going to have sex again, do you?"

"I certainly hope so. Don't you?"

"I don't know what to think right now. Why don't you give me your phone number? I won't give you mine. That way I can decide which way this relationship is going."

"Okay." I wrote down my phone number. She straightened herself up and rejoined her friends inside. I sat for a while and wondered what had just happened. In a few minutes, I saw her come out with two other girls and drive off.

After three days, she finally called. She said, "Okay, here's the deal. You take me out to a nice restaurant. One you think will impress me. Then we go to a coffee shop and talk."

"And then?"

"I'll decide after we talk."

"Oh goodie, I have an audition."

"There's only one part open so you better not mess up."

I took her to the grungiest little Chinese restaurant I was sure she had never heard of before. "Well, D.W., your chances for getting the part just got slimmer. If the food isn't great, you're paying for a taxi to take me home."

The family that ran the restaurant loved me. I spoke a little Mandarin which they loved to hear me try and mess up horribly. They appreciated the effort. We didn't have to order. They brought seven courses to our table. Clarice was full after course four, but we didn't want to be impolite. We waddled out after only paying $20 for both of us.

"So, coffee shop or taxi?"

"Can we walk to a coffee shop? I need to start burning some calories after that meal." She saw the mischievous look in my eyes. "And don't you dare suggest another way we could burn off calories, you pervert."

"Hey, don't blame me. Dirty minds think alike." She hooked her arm in mine all the way to the coffee shop.

We each shared our life story up to the recent breakups. I can't really say we opposites, but we were definitely different. I guess what we had most in common was our senses of humor. We laughed a lot that night.

Before we knew it, it was closing time. She looked disappointed. I asked, "Should we call it an evening?" I knew what she was going to say.

"It's an evening."

"That's too corny."

"Sorry."

I took her home and we kissed for a while. We both sighed and she went in. I was in love.

We dated for six months and were exclusive the last three. With the ring in my pocket, I called and asked if I could come over one night. I had hinted I was ready to pop the question. I stopped by the florist and went to her door. She opened the door. Her lipstick was smudged and several of her blouse buttons were undone. There was a strong odor of alcohol. Standing in the middle of the room was a man I had never seen before. I assumed he had something to do with the smudged lipstick.

Before she could say anything, I demanded, "Who is that?"

She slurred, "That's my boyfriend, I mean my ex-boyfriend. Thank you for the flowers. Here let me put them in water." She fumbled the handoff and the roses fell to the floor. While down picking up the flowers, she said, "Can you give me a hand. I'm a little tipsy." She looked to probably see me shutting the door on my way out. I know a man shouldn't run away, but I didn't want her to see me cry. I made it to the parking lot before she was on the balcony of the apartment complex yelling for me to stop. I didn't.

My cell phone rang. I didn't want her to hear me sobbing. I was so mad, I did a stupid thing and threw my cell phone out the window. The next day I went to replace my phone and decided to change my number. At work, I told my receptionist I would not take calls from Clarice anymore. She had tried calling several times and asked my secretary to tell me 'It wasn't what it looked like.' Geez, couldn't she think of something more original.

I went out to a different bar than where Clarice and I met. I was looking to score. My desperation evidently was apparent as I got shot down, even by ugly, fat girls. I would hate to hear what they said about me. I decided it was cheaper to drink at home and have my pity party by myself.

One day at my office, I was told I had a call from a Darren Jones. The name did not ring a bell. "Mr. Jones, how may I help you?"

"Actually, I'm trying to help you. I'm Clarice's ex-boyfriend. She asked me to call to tell you what really happened that night when you came by. It wasn't what you thought."

I was ready to hang up. I wondered if the Cheater's Handbook had a Thesaurus included. I hesitated and let him continue.

"I had dropped by unannounced to apologize to Clarice and to assure her that my romancing her mother was not an attempt at provoking her. I told her that I truly cared for her mother and was intending to continue to see her. I tell you, dude, her mother is even better than Clarice. Anyway, she was surprised I was there but was interested in what I had to say about me and her mother. She was hugging and kissing me good-bye just before you came. Hey, we used to have a thing going. She had been drinking and was not quite sober when you arrived. I swear that there is nothing romantic between us now, but I would like to stay friends especially since I am dating her mother. She really loves you man. You need to call and give her your phone number."

Shit! Just as I was beginning to move on with my life. I started to dial her number several times and gave up. I just didn't want to open that can of worms again. Several days went by and there was a knock on the door. I had a premonition that it was Clarice. Instead it was her roommate Allison. She barged past me in a huff.

She turned to me and said, "This is from Clarice." She proceeded to kiss me passionately. When I drew back in shock, she continued, "And this is from me."

Allison smacked me across the face. I thought I would lose my hearing in the ear closest to her slap. I was speechless.

"You asshole. Clarice is a mess. She hasn't gone back to work since the day you walked out. She's lost ten pounds already from not eating. If she doesn't go back to work soon, she will lose her job. And it's all your fault."

"My fault? She was the one who was with her boyfriend when she knew I was coming over. If she wants him over me, no problem." Another slap followed.

"And you gave her no chance to explain. Didn't Darren call you?"

"Yes."

"Well, why the hell didn't you call her?"

"I didn't believe him."

"Then it's a good thing you're gone. I just hope I can keep her from hurting herself too much. Maybe now she can find someone who cares enough to talk about problems and not just run away." She left.

Later that night, I swallowed my pride and called Clarice. Through the crying on both our parts, I apologized to her and she to me. We agreed to start over with me promising to talk to her if she ever did anything to make me angry. She promised to be more careful with other men. Three months later, I proposed, and she accepted.

The first few years of our marriage were great although Clarice was still going overboard to convince me of her loyalty. I didn't mind a little spoiling. We both moved up in our jobs and, therefore, income. It was getting close to the time to consider having children.

Clarice had gotten close to several of the women she worked with. They began to have a Girls Night Out once a week. I was worried a bit, but I was invited to come check up on her and did so a few times. She always watched how much she drank and never seemed to get out of control. I stopped going.

One night there was a bachelorette party for one of the women. Clarice came home late, hot to trot. She woke me up and practically raped me. No foreplay, straight to fucking. She was so wet, I slid in easily. It was fast and furious. When we both climaxed, she went to sleep quickly. I cleaned up the mess and put a dry towel down where the wet spot was.

Then next day, I asked what prompted her attack last night, and she said: "Male strippers got me all horny for you."

"Did you behave yourself?"

"How could I not with your watchdog Geneva keeping an eye on me? I didn't do anything she didn't." Geneva was the one friend of Clarice I trusted. She is the wife of our Associate Pastor. I have always teased her that she was the guardian of Clarice when they go out. I admit I still felt a little uneasy.

About two weeks later, there was another Girls Night Out and once again I was invited. I answered ambiguously that I might come. When it was time to go, I feigned being involved in a project in my workshop. Geneva picked her up and they both waved good-bye to me. An hour later I went and cleaned up. It was trust but verify time.

The place was pretty crowded, but I finally found the crew. As I approached, my smile turned upside down really quickly. Clarice was sitting in Darren's lap and she was kissing him. As I stood staring, Allison saw me and told Clarice. Darren dumped her on the floor. I was spinning tires before I heard either Allison or Clarice calling after me.

I did not obey speed limits on the way home. I quickly packed a bag, put my house key and wedding ring on the dining table and headed for a no-name motel. This time I kept my phone but turned it off. I also only had two drinks before trying to go asleep. It did not take me too long to decide what I would do on Monday.

I looked on my phone Monday morning and, as expected, there were numerous calls from Clarice, one from Allison, and one from Clarice's mother. I erased them all. I called a friend who got divorced recently and asked for a referral to a divorce attorney. At 2:00 I started telling my tale of woe and got the ball rolling on an expedited divorce with the standard 50/50 split. I was hoping she would not contest.

Unlike the last time, I called her to give her a chance to explain. I hoped she wouldn't say, 'It wasn't what it looked like.'

"Hello, Clarice. I'm giving you a chance to explain so you won't complain I didn't give you an opportunity to tell me a good story."

"Thank you for that, Rick. It was another case of bad timing. It wasn't what it looked like." I almost hung up upon hearing that.

"We were having our usual Girls Night Out when mother and Darren came in. They were celebrating their engagement. Mom started buying drinks and I got more buzzed than usual. Just before you came in, I was teasing Darren about becoming my step-father instead of my husband. He asked, 'Why don't you sit on your daddy's lap and congratulate me?' It seemed totally innocent and we had been intimate in the past, so I sat on his lap and gave him a congratulatory kiss. That's when Allison yelled you were there. I turned and saw the look on your face before Darren dumped me in the floor. It took me a while to get back on my feet. By the time I got outside, you were on your way home. I finally got a ride home to find your key and wedding ring. That was a bit over-dramatic on your part, I forgive you.

"Now, you can see that it really was nothing to get upset about. Maybe I shouldn't have sat in Darren's lap and maybe I shouldn't have kissed him, but damn it, Rick. We were going to be married at one time. Now he's going to be part of my family. Cut me some slack. Come on home and let's work on strengthening the trust in our marriage."

"So, I'm supposed to believe that bullshit story?"

"It's no story. It's the truth. Ask Allison. Ask my mother."

"If I don't believe you, the one person in the world I want to trust, then how am I going to believe the two people who want to protect you the most? The ones most likely to lie for you to make you look good. No, I gave you a second chance. That's all the chances I can afford to give." I hung up.

This time there were no phone calls from her. I was glad. On Wednesday morning, I called her work and asked if she came to work that day. Once that was confirmed, I told my lawyer. By 11:00, Clarice was served by an official with a loud voice who proclaimed 'YOU HAVE BEEN SERVED WITH A DIVORCE PETITION CITING ADULTERY AS THE CAUSE.' That cost a little extra, but he taped her response and that of her co-workers. It was so worth it.

As expected, I got a call from her about 11:15. She was not happy to say the least. "Really, you had me served at my office for maximum embarrassment. And what is this adultery shit? I did not commit adultery and you can't file with adultery as the cause in this state anyway."

"Ooops. My bad."

"You obviously don't want to have children with me if you go all gangbusters over a minor mistake on my part. It's better we move on so I can find a man who acts like a human and you can find the 'perfect' woman who won't make mistakes. That's what I thought love was -- forgiving the mistakes of the person you love.

"I'll have an attorney look over the petition and have him get back with you. I think we can agree on a split similar to what you have proposed so we can get it over as soon as possible."

"Thanks. See you at the conference."

We wound up selling the house and splitting the meager equity. Neither of us could afford the mortgage, insurance and utilities on our own salaries. I had to agree to more alimony than I hoped. Both of us would have to be frugal until we found a partner or spouse to help share costs and provide more income. Finding someone else was the last thing on my mind. I wondered about Clarice and Darren until I got a wedding invitation to the marriage of Clarice's mother and Darren. The florist refused to put poison ivy in the flowers, so I wound up not sending anything.

I spent the next couple of months getting my new apartment furnished to meet my needs. It looked like a typical bachelor pad, a sparsely furnished bachelor pad. I had received a note from one of the women I worked with. "Rick, I was sorry to hear about your divorce. As you probably know, I suffered the same thing several months ago. If you want to compare notes sometime, I like Italian food. Marci.' Marci was a fine-looking woman only a few years older than me. All her curves were in the right places although she usually dressed conservatively. I asked her out on a date. She accepted.

I was in a good mood as I looked in the mirror while preparing for my date. This would be my first official step in moving on. My phone rang. Could that be Murphy calling?

"Rick, we have to talk."

"Clarice, I thought we did that at the divorce settlement. Are you looking for more money because if you . . . "

"Shut up! This is serious." I heard a deep sigh. "I'm pregnant."

Now it was my time to take a deep sigh. "Congratulations to you and Darren. What does your mother think about this?"

"Asshole! I never had sex with Darren. It's your child. I'm over two months late."

"Here comes that trust thing again. Sorry, but I have trouble believing I'm the father."

"Well, you better believe it. Of course, I expect you to get a DNA test done unless, of course, you don't trust the tests too."

"You're right about that. Please tell me when the tests are done so I can give my blood for a match, OR NOT. Now is there anything else? I have a date I'm getting ready for."