Same Old Song and Dance

Here's the second part

* * * * * *

Kira

It was no big deal. That was what I had originally thought. I'm not stupid. When I first slept with ... Well we didn't exactly sleep so let's call it what it was. When I first had sex with Jeff. I knew there was a chance that I might get caught or that Terry might someday hear about it. But there were lots of couples in our town where they weren't married and one of or both of the partners tried someone else out during a break or while they were separated.

Most of those couples argued about it and then got back together. I figured that Terry, and I would be no different. With Terry away at school, I had no one to talk to except my mom. A big reason why it started was that I just wanted to go out and do something sometimes. I had only a few close friends and most of them were either married, taking care of babies already, working, or in college. Jeff, who was going through the same type of enforced separation that I was, understood my plight. We ended up having sex. It wasn't romantic, there were no feelings attached; it was purely physical. I also have no memory or understanding of how it happened.

We had gone out and there were other people with us. Jeff bought me a drink. We danced a lot and it felt good. Later He had awakened me and told me that we needed to go. I, thanks to Terry, hadn't been a virgin. But I had no idea why I'd had sex with Jeff. I didn't love him. I wasn't attracted to him, but I had done it. I figured that Terry would never find out. And decided that it would never happen again. I tried to look at what had happened as just the price I paid for the benefit of not being lonely anymore.

There was something else that I thought I might get from the relationship, if you can call it that, with Jeff. I thought that by hanging out with him, I might meet people, and become more popular. Because of where we lived and my mother's job and single mother status, I had always been looked down on. Hanging out with Jeff was supposed to elevate my status. Looking back on things, hanging with Jeff elevated my status to the basement.

Instead of being looked at as the poor girl, I was now looked at as the whore girl. Even people who liked me and treated me well because I was Terry's girlfriend, now refused to talk to me. And that wasn't because of anything Terry had done. I was pretty sure that Lana had already blackballed me.

Once I got to the restaurant, I realized at that point that work was a smart move. On the one hand, I no longer had the time just to sit around and cry my eyes out. And on the other, I got to hear all of the gossip about things that were going on in town.

For instance, I heard that Terry had been in four fights, that day alone. He had fought Jeff two times and had pretty much beaten the crap out of Jeff. They had been sent to jail but released a short time later.

My mom hinted to me that Terry was fighting over me, and it proved that he still loved me and there was a chance that we might be able to work things out. "Honey just give him some time and some space," she said. "He'll come around. Of course, you have to be ready. And he's probably going to treat you like a stranger for a long time.

I figured that I could get him back, and I intended to. Terry like everyone else in that tiny assed town was a product of his upbringing. Terry was kind, considerate, and as faithful as the day is long. My plan was to give him some time to get over things, become friends again, and catch him at a weak point. It might take me all summer, but Terry was going to end up in my bed again. And this time it would be different, at least for him.

Most men will fuck a snake if someone holds the head for them. All I needed to do was watch Terry. I would also make sure that he saw me from time to time. And if I caught him when he was weak and horny, or after he had forgiven me ... He'd be snake bitten.

I know that most people would consider what I was planning to do, a heinous thing. I was also smart enough to know that it wouldn't work on every man. But I knew it would work on Terry. My plan was that I was going to trap Terry into marrying me. And like I said, it is a terrible thing to do. And it didn't work on my own father. My mom didn't actually try to get pregnant. She'd just been young, dumb, and in love.

When she turned up pregnant, my dad had bolted for greener pastures. But Terry was raised to take responsibility for things that he did. Terry was also brought up in a loving family, and I knew that he wanted that for himself too. It was all he ever talked about. We were going to have three kids, just like his parents did. He always told me they got the order and the numbers wrong though.

He wanted to have two boys and then a girl. That way, the boys would have each other to play with growing up. And then they could watch out for their little sister and give hell to anyone who messed with her.

I remember lying in the soft grass near the lake wrapped in a blanket with Terry's arms around me. I could almost see those kids as he talked about them. I could see our house when he talked about it too. And I always told him I'd try real hard to get the order and the numbers right, but he had a lot to do with it too. He'd get me so worked up that I was always tempted to pull the condom off and have him go at me again, just so we could get started.

It was funny but even as young as we were; it felt as if we had been together forever. I have never felt as complete as I did in those days only a few months ago, when Terry and I had just made love.

In contrast, the times with Jeff, just made me fell cheap and sweaty. We never bothered to talk afterwards. We just got as far away from each other as we could, as quickly as we could. There was no kissing and embracing with Jeff. It just stick it in, then grunt, grunt, squirt ... see ya.

Terry had to understand that there was a difference. I was so busy daydreaming that I had failed to realize that the last customer had gone. Almost everyone in town was heading down to the big barbecue and picnic.

They were all trying to go early to get great seats on the shore for the fireworks.

"Kira, if you want, you can go home, Honey," said my mom. "Earl and I are gonna hang around just in case a few customers show up after the fireworks."

I was almost sure that my mom and Earl, the owner of the restaurant, were fucking. Earl was married, but his wife was an alcoholic who was drunk or high most of the time. When she was sober it was worse. Then she had a stick so far up her ass that hats didn't sit completely on top of her head. She always acted like her last name was Hilton or Buffet instead of Terwilliger. I was sure that she wasn't giving Earl any pussy and hadn't in years. My mom was also pretty God damned cheerful sometimes after working really long shifts.

I don't think they did it often. Earl was the kind of man who felt guilty about almost everything. But I was pretty sure it had happened and might even happen right then if I got my ass out of there.

Thinking about them having sex, reminded me of Terry. I could probably go down to the park and watch him. Once I realized that, thoughts of my mom trying to lift Earl's voluminous gut, so she could suck his dick, faded into the ether.

I drove my mom's car home the way that Terry drove his Mustang. I was probably on two wheels going around most of the corners. I got home and changed into my tightest jeans, and one of Terry's jerseys from when he played high school football.

I tied my hair up in a loose ponytail, so it would look casual. I didn't do full makeup. I just enhanced my eyes and put on a little bit of lipstick. Then I headed for the park.

I got there and looked around for Terry. I saw his family there, and the pain started again. Terry's mom and dad were together. They always were; they still loved each other after all of those years. They were also still hot for each other. Terry's sisters were there too. And from out of nowhere, Terry and his brother in law came over with drinks for all of them.

They were all so happy. And it was real. They just enjoyed being together. And Mark was fully accepted, even though he had married into the family. I had always had fun when I was with them too. Shit, I remember having to try to squeeze in time to be with Terry, because his mom and the girls always grabbed me as soon as I came over and started me doing whatever they were doing. I felt as if I was one of them. They treated me as if I was.

Nothing mattered to them. They didn't care where I lived. They didn't care what my mom did for a living or who my father was. I always felt like I was a part of that family, and my mom did too.

Suddenly, I realized exactly how badly I had fucked up. Family mattered so much to Terry, and in his mind, he and I were a thing. I was part of his family. And he wanted what his mom and dad had for us.

And he was going to have it too. No matter what I had to do, this little speed bump on the way to our happiness was not going to derail us.

I was happily watching my future husband and our future family, while trying to imagine what they were saying, when a bulldozer entered the Garden of Eden.

Lana sauntered over to Terry and his family. She was wearing a beautiful, knee length, white lace sun dress. She said hello to everyone and then settled in right next to Terry. When they sat down at the beginning of the announcements, she didn't go back to her friends and family. She stayed with Terry's family. She sat between Terry and his little sister Debbie.

Debbie, who was clearly in awe of Lana, offered her a drink of whatever she had in her cup. Lana accepted it and took a sip from Debbie's straw. A few moments later, she was sharing Terry's drink and the two of them were talking about everything going on up on the stage.

It should have been me, sitting next to Terry. As the announcements continued and the awards were given out, Terry's family cheered loudly for every person on the stage. Of course, they cheered the loudest when Terry's dad went up on stage to get his award for his car as the best stock vehicle in the show, and again for the best modern muscle car.

When they gave out the awards for the race, the announcer had Terry's dad just stay on the stage. Terry's dad got a trophy for first place overall. He got another for first master, which is what they call runners who are over forty. He also got first place in his age group.

Terry's mom got an award along with the rest of the set up crew. She kissed her husband right on the stage, and the crowd went wild. That bitch Lana was there hugging Terry's mom and dad just like she was one of them. And when she sat back down, she sat even closer to Terry. It was as if the bitch was determined to fuck him right there in front of the entire town. I was seething with anger. White-hot tears seared my cheeks as I got up and ran to my car. I opened the door for that bitch. Now she had stepped across the threshold and was stealing my fucking life.

* * * * * *

Greg

Monday came and with it the end of the weekend. The beginning of the new week brought the beginning of the rest of my life. On Sunday, I had gathered my thoughts and figured out what I had to do next.

I went out for a run while Donna was at church. She had a meeting after the services with the rest of the volunteers to discuss, both the successes of the Founder's day festivities and their next project. I was glad she did because it gave me the opportunity not only to go out for a run, but to think.

Had Donna stayed home, I would have had to cancel my run, and I felt weird if I didn't get my run in. I had been pretending that I had back and leg pain to avoid intimacy with Donna. The odd thing about it is that I had never been one of those who believe in things like intuition. However, watching my son on that video, I had known that he wasn't lying. I was also sure that Donna; my wife of over twenty years had been cheating on me.

Finding out forced me to pull my head out of my ass. For more than twenty years, I existed inside of a cocoon of mindless bliss. I'd thought that I had a great life with a woman I loved, and now I knew that what I thought was love had been mostly a fantasy. But it had felt so real. I truly believed that some of my life had to be genuine. The problem was that by nature, engineers are problem solvers. We wear many hats during the completion of our assignments.

I had to start out by becoming like a detective. I needed to gather the facts and the evidence to prove or disprove those facts. Then once the situation had been revealed, I had to switch hats. I had to become an analyst. I had to discern which of those facts, and which parts of the situation were worth saving and, which needed to be killed off or allowed to expire. Then switching hats again, I would become a skilled surgeon and cut those parts that were too diseased out of my life. Finally, I would have to become a nurse and heal myself and the parts of my life that were worth saving. There were other hats to wear sometimes, but those were the main items of haberdashery to don.

Another great skill that engineers develop is delegation. We learn to subcontract the tasks that we are not skilled enough or insulated enough to handle ourselves. So bright and early Monday morning, the first thing on my list was to make several phone calls. The first was to a divorce lawyer. I purposefully chose one from out of town. I didn't want anyone in town even to suspect what was going on until I was ready to proceed. I also hired a very good PI with a theatrical bent and a very friendly nature. My last hire would probably come as a shock to some people, but I hired a good forensic accountant.

I hired the accountant because accountants are money experts. They know more about rooting out secret income streams than anyone else does. And if they're that good at finding hidden money, they must also be good at devising ways to hide it and protect it. If I got proof that Donna had been cheating on me, my intention would be to divorce her. I was already looking at her as if she was some strange exotic animal instead of the woman I had loved for the last twenty some-odd years and raised three children with.

I was running the long game; I knew that rooting out the information I wanted would take weeks or months, not hours or days. So I had to steel myself for the long run. It was really a good thing too because I was crazy about Donna, and I had to wean myself away from that. The good thing about it was that I could do it slowly and over time. So I didn't suffer, the way that Terry was.

There were times when I ached for him. He reminded me so much of myself. What he was going through with Kira was so much worse. The funny part of the situation for me was that Terry, though he suffered so much more than I had, was also better off in any number of ways; the first being that he wasn't married to Kira, and they had only been together for less than a couple of years. A year to a 19-year-old is still only roughly five percent of their life. For a man in his forties, twenty years like Donna and I had been together was 50% of mine. I literally didn't know how to live without her. However, I intended to learn how, if it became necessary.

Another reason why things should have been easier for Terry was that he didn't have any kids with Kira. There was nothing to tie the two of them together. He was able just to walk away from her as easily as turning off a light switch, and it was pretty much what he had done.

Yet another reason was the instant upgrade factor. I have no idea how it happened, but my son seemed to have had the misfortune of having the prettiest girl in town just fall into his lap. Terry was suddenly besieged with invitations to parties that he had never known existed. And Lana was startlingly beautiful. She was also friendly, outgoing and very popular. Kira was a cute girl. She reminded me in some ways of a younger version of Donna. But Lana; she was on another level. She reminded me of what Tara must've looked like when younger.

At home, I became the consummate actor. I pretended that everything was normal. After the first few weeks when I could no longer pull off the back injury, I even returned to having sex with Donna. Our sex life was different though; where before it was always more intimate and romantic, it had morphed into something different. Lately, I've had to do more acting to make sure that Donna is still unaware. I guess the first few times she could chalk it up to me being extra horny after weeks of going without.

It fed her ego to think that I wanted to fuck her so badly that I was just out of control. But I think she began to notice that the romance and emotional connections that we usually got from sex were missing. She began trying to slow me down and get me to kiss her and caress her more. The problem was that I no longer felt that way about her. I was no longer making love to the woman I loved; I was just fucking the town whore.

Like I said, it had taken a while. It was a couple of months, not weeks for the picture to emerge. By then, the accountant figured out a brilliant way for me to divert and hide income. My lawyer had come up with the best possible scenario for my divorce, if it was necessary. The only thing keeping me in a holding pattern was the PI. She was actually the most expensive of the three, and she was worth it.

She lived in a nearby suburb and for the past few weeks had commuted to our town. She'd printed up a bunch of flyers for a new home improvement company and was wandering all over town talking to people about improving their homes. She actually had a real contractor whom she would subcontract any work that she sold to. However, her main mission, unlike most PIs who hide in the shadows and take pictures, was to make herself a part of the community and get people to open up and talk to her.

She was friendly and pretty, just the opposite of all the TV detectives. Because of that, and the fact that she was never pushy, she could gain the confidence of the people she spoke to. She ate lunch in the same restaurant every day, always complaining about how many miles she thought she'd walked that day. Before the first month was over, she could do things that I couldn't do.

She could walk into the restaurant in town at lunchtime and just smile at one of the waitresses, and they'd order for her. They already knew what she wanted. Sometimes as soon as she stepped in the cook would start making her sandwich. Several of the regulars would move over to her table to sit with her. There were a couple of guys who were always volunteering to rub her feet for her.

Over time, while trying to impress her, they began to spill little secrets that I never could have gotten out of them. It took her less than two months to get the entire story. The funny part was that very few of the people she'd spoken to, actually knew the entire picture. It was like a puzzle game. There were a lot of pieces and each person only knew their own piece. They had no idea how all the pieces fit together, nor did they know the scope of the entire picture.

When she gave me the report, and her sympathies, she told me that she had everything I needed. There were lots and lots of recordings. There were photos and there were videos. There were motel records and lots of other information. She even drew up a timeline for me. Once she had the proof she needed, she had actually gone out and videotaped some of the meetings. She couldn't or didn't get video or photos from inside of the rooms. That simply wasn't possible in the real world unless you had unlimited funds or a motel employee who could be bribed.