Self-Discovery Tre

Summary of Part 1:

In part 1, after Candace caught her husband Winthrop cheating for the third time her best friends, married attorneys Joyce and David, talked her into going to a women's boot camp. Between the camp and Candace's night of the best sex of her life with David she finally had the self-confidence to realize that there is no justification for her to take a back seat in Winthrop's life to his 1931 Bugatti Type 41 Royale Kellner, his only true love.

David has filed a formal agreement for Candace separating from Winthrop and now Candace is returning to her mansion for the first time in twenty five days with a Court Order expelling Winthrop from her house. Candace intends to spend the next two weeks planning a trek of self-discovery while Joyce and David prepare to move to the West Coast to join a startup law firm doing good works.

*************

When I returned home Winthrop must have heard the maid greet me because rushed to see me. He tried to give me a hug. I pushed him away. With a hurt look he said "Pumpkin, we've got to talk about this nonsense of a separation. You know that I love only you."

"You've got a weird way of showing it," I snickered.

I could tell that he was shocked by my retort - he wasn't used to seeing me self-confident. He immediately tried to recover with, "Wow, do you look good. Where have you been and what have you been doing to look that good?"

"Wow, yourself. That is about the only true thing you have told me in the last six years, but I do look good, don't I. As for why, it's because I've been to boot camp and afterward fucked up a storm, the best fucks of my life."

If he was shocked before, he was now officially gobsmacked. As he was studying me to see if I was telling the truth while simultaneously wondering when I started using the word "fuck" and stuttering to try and find some response I thought "No time like the present."

"Winthrop, let's go sit in the den and have a chat," I said with a smile. He followed me in like a lamb.

As soon as he was seated I handed him a copy of the Expulsion Order, kicking him out of my house. "This is a Court Order requiring you to vacate the premises within forty eight hours. Don't give me any shit about it or I'll call the cops and that won't look too good to your high-society friends," I barked.

Wide-eyed Winthrop looked over the document for a minute or so and then with a mixture of sadness and anger asked "Why are you doing this?"

"You're supposed to be a smart guy, you figure it out," I replied with a sneer.

After a pregnant pause he adopted a more-or-less chagrined, submissive, attitude and said, "I promise you, on my life, I'll never have another affair. I don't know why I did it in the past because you're my everything - but I know I can stop because you're the only one I love."

"OK," I snarled, "then sell your Bugatti." I got up and walked out of the den, and to go to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms as he called after me "Be reasonable Pumpkin..."

*****************

You would think, based upon my "discussion" with Winthrop the first day that I got back from boot camp, that I was now the self-confident, high self-image person that I wanted to be, and that I didn't really need a trek of self-discovery. Unfortunately that was not the case. Over the next forty eight hours Winthrop begged, pleaded, cajoled, and used every other trick in his arsenal to get me to relent. I did.

Well, I didn't relent completely. I did not pull either the separation agreement or the expulsion order, but I did have David put a hold on the expulsion order. At first David refused to do it saying he could not in good conscience do anything to enable my "relapse," and Joyce backed him up completely. However, he did come up with a solution whereby he could do it without feeling like he was an enabler. David would put the expulsion order on hold if Winthrop would agree to sign a document forfeiting his right to oppose a divorce, and re-adopting the pre-nuptial agreement, if he was found having sex with anyone else during the term of the separation.

Winthrop quickly signed the document. At that time I allowed myself to believe that maybe he was turning a corner and would be a decent guy. I found out later that it likely was because he had run through most of his money in his trust fund and needed me to support him, especially if he had any hope of keeping his precious Bugatti.

With Joyce and David's help I investigated all sorts of places throughout the world for my trek. The main criteria were accessibility in case of an emergency, safety, spirituality (not religion, but spirituality in general), difficulty (it needed to be challenging but not impossible), likely sociability of the natives or other trekkers, and adaptability. We came to a unanimous decision, the roughly 800 kilometer trail Camino de Santiago in Spain.

Once we came to that mutual decision I had lots to do. One thing was to brush up on my Spanish. I had taken Spanish two years each in High School and college, but I never used it that much. Therefore I enrolled in a Berlitz Language Center intense course that taught Spanish culture in the Spanish language. It was eight hours a day for two weeks. I was able to meet Joyce for lunch every day, however, and went over to Joyce and David's house for dinner most nights since I wanted to spend as much time as possible with my two best friends before they moved to the West Coast.

When Winthrop and I were together he tried his best to kiss up to me, although I did notice that he did not try to talk me out of my trip - just out of expelling him during it. I even had sex with him once after he gave me a massage (almost a first in our seven years of marriage) after a particularly stressful day.

Our sexual encounter was actually our best in several years. I was horny - I'm ashamed because when my mind was not otherwise fully occupied I thought back to my night of over-the-top pleasure with David - and he fingered me nicely and then even ate me, something that he rarely did. I reciprocated by mounting him and doing my best imitation of my cowgirl fuck of David, actually bringing tears to Winthrop's eyes he was so gratified.

The next morning he fucked me missionary, much nicer than our average fuck, and he seemed thrilled by that one too. That's what made ensuing events even more bizarre.

Three days before Joyce and David were to move, and I was to start my trek - I timed them to coincide to try to make my separation from my best friends easier - Joyce and I were walking to lunch when we came across my maid, Sonja, leaving a grocery store.

"Hi, Sonja," I said in surprise since this wasn't her day off. "Did you need to pick up some things for the house?"

"Hi, Mrs. Pingree," she nonchalantly replied, "no I'm going home because Mr. Pingree told me to take the day off. He said that you knew about it."

"Sonja, you know to call me Candace in front of Joyce," I first chortled. I insisted that she call me by my first name when alone or with my closest friends, and I also wanted to set her at ease for the third degree I was about to give her.

"Exactly what did Winthrop say when he told you to take the day off?"

"Well, Candace, he said that he had an important meeting early afternoon and that he needed to be sure that he was not disturbed. He gave Jose the day off too," she replied, now a little worried that she might not be doing the right thing. Jose is the gardener.

I casually questioned her some more as Joyce and I exchanged knowing looks, then assured Sonja that she wasn't doing anything wrong and told her to enjoy her day off.

As soon as Sonja was out of earshot Joyce moaned, "I guess I'm not getting anything done this afternoon and you're not going back to class. David's law firm has a P I organization on retainer and I'll get him to have some of their operatives meet us at our house immediately."

"I'll call Berlitz and tell them I won't be there for the afternoon session," I replied, choking up a little.

Two investigators, Jim and Pam, from the P I office - and David - were at Joyce and David's house within forty five minutes, video and still cameras at the ready. Pam had a concealed carry permit and was armed. After talking strategy for fifteen minutes we thought it best if Joyce and David did not accompany Pam, Jim and I as we left for my mansion.

We entered my house through the covered walkway from the pool cabana so that it would have been impossible for anyone in the house to see us. Winthrop had actually set the alarm, apparently believing that even if I entered my code to disable it, it would give one distinctive "beep" that would alert him. What he didn't know was that another code entered first disabled the "beep."

The three of us snuck up the stairs to the master bedroom. Winthrop had been sleeping there - alone, except for our one night and morning of sex - and the distinctive sounds of his cheating were coming from there. Jim filmed Winthrop, and the same bimbo that I had seen him with the last time that I caught him cheating a month ago, as they were slowly grinding, completely preoccupied with each other. So preoccupied that Jim filmed them, and Pam took still photos, for a good ninety seconds before they realized we were there.

This time, unlike the past, I didn't collapse into tears. As the cheaters were trying to cover up I calmly said "Bimbo - get the fuck out of here right now. You're trespassing. If you're not out of my house in thirty seconds we'll detain you and have you arrested."

The bimbo glanced furtively at Winthrop, he nodded, and she started getting up, holding a sheet in front of her. "Leave my sheet on the bed, bimbo," I yelled. Naked she gathered up her clothes, all the time being filmed, and left without a word.

Bizarrely I stayed completely under control. I even said to myself "Well at least he has good taste in bimbos," as she left because I had to admit that she was an awesome looking chick. The main reason that I could remain in control, however, was because on the way to my house the most diabolical idea I had ever had jumped into my mind."

As Winthrop was blabbing something with the cameras still rolling I barked "Save it. When I leave for my trip you're out of here for good. Just be thankful that I'm a nice person and won't kick you out until then, but if you take any of my stuff, or harm my house in any way, I'll see that you're arrested - Got it?"

"Yes, pumpkin," was his meek reply.

No, I did not lose my mind, and did not completely revert to my old self. I needed him to be off guard on Sunday and follow his regular routine.

I couldn't concentrate enough to return to my Berlitz Spanish class, so I went over to Joyce's house. I didn't tell her about all of my plans, just when I would be expelling Winthrop and when I wanted to start divorce proceedings. We called David and he set me up with the biggest bitch divorce attorney in the State and I retained her over the phone.

Just before dinner that night I got a call on my cell from Simon, my financial guru. He's both a stockbroker and CPA that looks after my extensive holdings and makes sure that all of my money is being properly handled and disbursed. He is one of the most honest people I have ever met in my life, I compensate him well, and he insists on an end-of-the-year independent audit by rotating accounting firms, none of which have ever found a missing penny.

"Candace, Simon here. I have a strange pair of checks that I need to ask you about," he said as soon as I answered the phone. Simon never engages in small talk, he's all business.

"OK, what?" I asked, intrigued, since he rarely called me about checks.

"Have you started paying some expenses for Winthrop's Bugatti?"

"Hell no!" I responded. "Why do you ask that?"

"There's a check for over $5,000 to a classic car detailing shop that looks to be signed by you."

"Email it to my phone," I said. "You said 'checks;' is there another one."

"There is a check made out to someone named Brittany Compton, also for over $5,000. Who is she?"

"I can only suspect," I moaned. "Email that to me too."

Joyce and I printed out the emailed canceled checks on her home computer printer. "Now it's fraud too," I moaned since the checks were clearly forged.

"Winthrop must really be desperate," Joyce grimaced.

**************

Sunday, two days before I left on my trek and Joyce and David moved, either Winthrop was in denial about what was going to happen to him, or he needed to keep up his routine to maintain his sanity, because he went for his normal Sunday drive in his Bugatti. Jose followed him in the pickup truck that I owned and let Jose use for both personal use and all gardening activities, and one of Winthrop's friends led him in the friend's SUV.

While I was giving a videotaped statement to the local police about the fraudulent checks a strange thing happened. A sketchy looking guy in an unregistered, definitely not vintage, 1954 Cadillac Coup de Ville, curb weight 2000 kg/4400 lbs., rammed Winthrop's Bugatti's passenger door when the Caddy went through a stop sign. "Fortuitously" a police officer arrived within thirty seconds and took an accident report despite Winthrop's pleas for him not to. The driver of the Caddy was an illegal immigrant scheduled for deportation by Immigration and was immediately taken into custody by the police officer, who called Immigration on his radio as soon as he had the guy in cuffs.

Poor Winthrop. Since his Lloyds of London insurance policy didn't cover anything that happened on roads to his 1931 Bugatti Type 41 Royale Kellner the extensive damage not only would not be covered, but even if Winthrop's baby was repaired, after hundreds of thousands of dollars of restoration costs, it would never have its original status of mint classic.

WOW - one would almost think that someone had a vendetta against Winthrop and intentionally surreptitiously hired an illegal alien and paid his family in El Salvador $50,000 and got a junked 1954 Cadillac operational just for that purpose. But who could want revenge on Winthrop that badly?

Good question (ha,ha).

When Winthrop returned to my house with his towed vehicle his day got even worse. Two police officers arrested him for check fraud, he was officially re-served with the Expulsion Order, and all of his possessions were in transit to a storage facility that I had prepaid three months of rent on.

He had a very sad look on his face when he heard me tell the tow truck driver "Get that piece of junk off my property. Why don't you tow it to his storage facility - here's the address."

*****************

When Joyce, David and I said our tearful goodbyes it was one of the saddest days of my life. One thing that made it bearable, however, was the knowledge that as soon as I got back from my trek that I would visit them for a month on the West Coast.

Another thing that made it bearable was that after I had begged them for two weeks to let me reimburse them for the boot camp and the night at the Four Seasons that they finally agreed, as long as I promised to rely only on myself during the trek, and not contact them or anyone else for help unless it were a life-threatening situation.

The final thing that made our separation bearable was our collective joy that Winthrop had been expelled from my house and all of the locks changed, that a security firm had been hired to watch my house 24/7 during my trek, that the divorce papers (along with the post-nuptial and pre-nuptial signed by Winthrop) had been filed, that the D A intended to prosecute Winthrop on the forged check charges, and that Simon had all of my financial matters clearly in hand.

I still had tears either in my eyes, or almost there, when I flew into the closest international airport at Biarritz, in the southwest of France. From the airport, I boarded the bus that takes passengers first to Saint-Jean-de-Luz, then after a change of buses, on a short ride to Hendaye, just across the river from Irún, the start of Los Caminos del Norte.

Since I would be travelling mostly in late spring and summer, I didn't need any winter clothing. All that I carried was a twenty pound backpack with raingear, extra clothes, emergency medicine, a micro-thin tarp, an international cell phone (ONLY for emergencies), a camera with a 128GB card, a journal, and a water purifier and bottle. I intended to purchase food along the way and stay in hotels or hostels. My normal outfit was a pair of khaki shorts, polyester panties, wicking socks, hiking boots, a sports bra, and a short sleeve polypropylene top.

I had a credit card which I knew would be accepted everywhere along my route, and 3,000€ cash. I had also memorized the numbers of an emergency Spanish bank account that I could access from any bank in Spain. Everything was in the name of a pseudonym that I had adopted especially for my trip - "Amber Glow." Corny, maybe, but I wanted a complete break from Candace Pingree and her low self-esteem and hang-ups. Besides, one of the main regrets of my life when I was growing up was that my parents didn't have the good sense to name me "Amber!"

I only spent one night in Irún, despite my jet lag. From the Eusko Tren station I took a ramp that led to a pedestrian bridge that crosses the Río Bidasoa. Just past the end of the bridge was the border marker between France and Spain.

****************

The route I chose for my trek was to follow the coastal plain as far as Galicia before turning inland towards Santiago. The main towns on my route were San Sebastián/Donastia, Bilbao, Castro Urdiales, Santander, Ribadesella, Gijón, Avilés, Luarca, Ribadeo, Mondoñedo, and Sobrado dos Monxes, joining the Camino francés at Arzua.

My route essentially ran parallel to the sea, meaning that I had to cross numerous rivers with the associated ascents and descents. There were spectacular views in many locations, yet in others I didn't have sight of the ocean for quite a few kilometers.

My Berlitz classes turned out to be a good investment since few of the locals understood English, and even many of my fellow travelers spoke little English. After only a few days I was easily conversing in Spanish and could understand, and be understood by, everyone that I came into contact with. Almost everyone was friendly, I typically joined one or more other travelers for a day or two, but usually never more than three (because self-reliance was a major goal of the trek), and was able to get decent food and accommodations along the entire route.

I won't bore you with all of the details of my trek - you'll have to buy my journal when it's published if you want that. However, I will relate three truly memorable aspects of it.

The day before I got to Santander, Spain I had gotten some good news. I called Simon just once a week in case there were any emergencies from his end. He told me that my divorce was now official - I was free and very happy!

Santander turned out to be one of my favorite places for several reasons. It is nestled amidst grassy hills and green trees so that it offers a varied landscape on the shores of the Bay of Biscay. Although it has both urban and natural beauty everywhere one turns, its specialty is its lovely and marvelous sandy beaches. I was enjoying a leisurely stroll along one particularly beautiful beach, having put my backpack in a public locker and having changed into my bikini, when I noticed a young man a few meters in front of me getting out of the ocean.

Fortunately I had my wrap-around sunglasses on, otherwise I likely would have completely embarrassed myself by my ogling. As it was I'm sure that my mouth was agape. The guy looked just like a younger, and slightly bigger, version of David. I immediately felt twinges in my pussy.