Taxi 15

Most people have heard the song, Cats in the Cradle. Harry Chapin put it out in 1974, and despite the age of the song, it's recognized by many age groups. Much like Escape (the pina colada song by Rupert Holmes), it has made its way into numerous soundtracks over the years. While that was clearly one of Harry's most popular songs,

Taxi

was released in 1972, and it was about a taxi driver whose last fare of the night was an old flame from his youth. A relationship that eventually ended as they went to pursue their very different goals.

While waiting for the freezing to take place for my impending root canal,

Taxi

was playing over the speakers. With my mind willing to concentrate on anything but what I was there for, I cultivated an idea for a story. The story's premise is based on the events of the song, but the lives of the main characters have been altered to fit in the Loving Wife category.

I suspect that most authors enjoy putting their ideas into a story, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who sometimes feels a true connection that makes writing it a lot of fun. This is one of them for me. I wrote this short story very quickly, putting others on hold. I hope others enjoy it as well. There are no descriptive sex scenes in this one.

All the usual disclaimers still apply, including potential grammar and spelling errors. Thanks for giving it a read, and thank you, Mr. Chapin (God rest your soul), for the inspiration. You were taken far too soon.

Cheers,

C_T

I jokingly waved at the taxi drivers as they were cued for their turn at the pickup area. It wasn't meant to be malicious; after all, we basically do the same thing, but an airport pickup is so much smoother when you're requested. As an Uber driver, our pickup areas were less congested, and you rarely wasted time waiting for your fare.

I let my rider know I was pulling up to the airport, knowing my vehicle was easy to see. I drove a late model Lincoln Towncar that was as black and shiny as the day it left the showroom. It had all the comforts of its time, and the plush seating was still appreciated by the most discerning rider. What would be my last fare for the night was a long haul from the airport to one of the more prestigious areas, just on the other side of our fair city. Even with that knowledge, I would still be home before eleven, and that was always my target cut-off.

As I pulled up, an attractive woman wearing a royal blue one-piece pant suit with a white fur (faux fur?) shoulder wrap walked towards my vehicle. Before I could get out, she let herself into the back seat. It was a little odd. Unlike taxis that force you to use the backseat, I have many people sit up front with me, but she gave off an air that she was used to being chauffeured around.

"Good evening. You must be Susan. How was your flight?"

"It's Mrs. Palmer. My flight was fine, and please don't feel obligated to engage in playful chatter. It's been a day for me."

"Of course, of course. Just relax, Mrs. Palmer. If you'd like music or perhaps a change in the temperature, please let me know, otherwise, I'll be happy to stay quiet and drive."

I assumed she was happy with that, as she offered no reply. I checked my mirrors and made my way through the airport maze, looking for the interstate exit to get this lady home. Her curtness didn't throw me off. I've experienced many versions of it in my lifetime, long before I was an Uber driver.

A few minutes later, I was merging with the main flow of traffic and on our way. Curiosity got the better of me, and I used the mirror to investigate my rider a bit more. She had her head turned as she watched the scenery through the window. Her jet-black hair was glossy and beautifully cut to frame her elegant face. I wasn't a hundred percent sure, but I'd guess that she had had some cosmetic surgery. The nose was a little too perfect, and the lips a little too full, but she pulled it off. I refocused on the road in front of me, smiling at my sneaky, skilled observations.

A random rearview mirror check at the truck pulling alongside me gave me a glimpse of her eyes. They were brown, large, and full of emotion. I wasn't overly skilled at observing emotions, but if I were to guess, I'd say she had been crying earlier. Something about her eyes kept my attention. In fact, it kept my attention too long, and she had caught me staring at her in the mirror. Her expression changed and I immediately looked away both embarrassed and... fuck! It couldn't be.

My mind instantly rummaged through memories that I had left buried for so long, but suddenly, names and images from 20 years ago became clear as day. Susan Palmer... As in Susan Edwards, (nee) Susan Fielding? Wasn't Palmer the last name of? Oh shit! It was my ex! We met in my last year of college and got married eighteen months later, only for her to walk away less than fourteen months after that. I instinctively pushed the gas down a little harder. I wasn't a speeder naturally, but I suddenly felt the urge to end this fare as fast as possible.

All the anger, all the humiliation came flooding back. Not only had she destroyed me emotionally, but she seemed to have enjoyed it. I was blindsided so badly that I never had a chance to prepare, defend, or even react, for that matter. It was so coldly calculated on her behalf that it made my recovery a long process. Despite every fiber of my being trying not to replay the horrible memory, I was soon down the rabbit hole of hell.

**

20-something years earlier

"I thought this was a celebration? Couldn't you have booked somewhere a little fancier than a typical chain restaurant?"

I smiled at Susan as I pushed her chair in for her. She knew in advance where we were going, but she loved to poke at me. "Baby, I just got hired. I won't see my first real paycheck for a month. As it is, I pulled money from our vacation fund to pay for tonight." I tried to laugh off her scowl. Susan was the most beautiful woman in the world to me. She scowled a lot, but somehow, I found it sexy on her.

"So, no camping at some godforsaken, snake-infested park? I suppose it's a better use of the money." She huffed.

Sue's banter was always on the negative side, but I learned long ago that it's just who she is. Our marriage is very good, and our weird communication works for us. Besides, if she goes too far and hurts my feelings or makes me angry, she makes it up by fucking me close to death. Oh God, we were made for each other when it came to sex. Besides her amazing body, Susan was adventurous and daring in the bedroom. It was also one of the few places where I tended to control things. She had some submissive tendencies especially when it came to my cock. Yeah, I was never a jock or a model, but I had been blessed down below and with that also came the gift of stamina.

"One day, I'll be able to take you to fancy restaurants, and we'll travel to exotic places, honey. Until then, we'll have to make do. Besides, I thought you liked the food here?" I looked at her, expecting an answer, but instead, I could see she was waving to someone.

"Hey, Libby!" Susan called out to her best friend. I never liked Libby. She was rich and loved to remind everyone that she was. I looked at her table and could see many of Susan's friends sitting around the large table.

"Why are all your friends here?" I questioned.

"How should I know? I just looked up, and there they were." She picked up her menu and proceeded to peruse her choices. "Can I get the steak and lobster since we're celebrating?"

Her meal alone was close to breaking my budget for our dinner, but I couldn't very well say no under the circumstances. After our waitress had taken her order, which also included an expensive bottle of wine, I ordered a simple chicken Caesar salad from the salad selections. That got me a glare from Susan. I'm guessing I embarrassed her... again.

We settled in for our evening, and once again, Susan brought up having children. I was all for it, but I was smart enough to know that we had to have a few things in order first, like my job and maybe a small house. I was pleased that Susan wanted kids badly; we were on the same team, but our timelines were a little off-kilter.

I was in the middle of explaining how my job could eventually build into something more lucrative when I could see her eyes were travelling somewhere else. I looked over my shoulder and watched Charles Palmer, walk through the waiting area and head straight to Libby's table. Charles was the only son of Senator Eugene Palmer and was already on the path to follow his daddy's golden footprints. With him was a collection of goons... sorry, friends. Zeke, Bart, Tony, and Bobby. The banger boys, as they were known all through college. Their reputation as troublemakers was well-earned, and wherever they went, something usually happened.

"Since when did Palmer start hanging out with the banger boys?" I waited for an answer from Susan, but nothing was forthcoming. I turned to look back at her, and she was flushed with excitement. "Susan, are you okay?"

"Oh, shut up, Harry!" I was flabbergasted. Where did that come from? I was about to ask when she stood up and smiled.

Charles had come across to our table and stepped right into my Susan, giving her a deep, passionate kiss. I was about to stand up when I felt two meat claws grab my shoulders and push me back into my seat.

"Not a good idea, Harry." Bart's deep voice left no room for interpretation.

"Sue? What are you doing?" I was close to yelling, and by now, the entire restaurant was looking at us. I thought I saw a man who was likely the manager come out from the kitchen, but he was headed off by the other banger boys.

She finally pulled away from Charles and frowned at me. "I can't do this anymore, Harry. I love Charles, and I've decided to leave town with him. He's got a bright future and will be even richer than his dad in no time."

"Susan, please. Can't we talk about this?" I was trying not to sound desperate, but I doubt I was pulling it off.

"Over McDonalds? I'm tired of living with no money. I'm tired of taking the bus, tired of Walmart clothes, and I'm tired of you." Charles handed her a manilla envelope, and she turned towards my chair, dropping it on the table in front of me. "I want a divorce, Harry. You know you don't have the money for a lawyer, so just sign the papers. Charles and I want a summer wedding." She smiled and turned, blowing him a kiss.

Libby and all the girls were now standing around us. I could feel the smiles, enjoying my embarrassment. "I... I thought you loved me. My job... my new job, you seemed so excited. It won't always be like this."

Susan stooped down to look me in the eyes. I thought she was going to say something soothing. Boy, did I get that wrong.

"Face it, Harry, it'll always be like this. I've been faking for a long time, sweetie; you're just too dense to catch on. Jesus, I've been fucking Charles for four months, and you never even had a clue, did you?" Her eyes looked cold. "Oh, I can see the wheels turning in your little head, so let me answer those awkward questions you're thinking about. Yes, his cock is bigger than yours and he's a fucking stallion compared to you. I don't know how you'll ever make another woman happy with that little thing you call a cock." She smirked and patted me on top of my head. "C'mon Charles, I need a good fuck. Let's practice for when we start having babies."

Libby and all the other girls were laughing hard now. The banger boys chuckled along. I felt Bart's hands leave my shoulders. He knew I was no threat, especially now.

"Here," Charles threw a dollar bill on the table. "I know you're strapped for cash, so put that towards the tip." He smiled and walked away, holding hands with my wife.

"Bye, little Harry!" Libby taunted me while she wiggled her pinky finger. That made the whole group laugh as they walked out of the restaurant.

It took me a long time before I could raise my eyes and take in the people around me. The place was eerily quiet. I could feel their eyes on me, judging me by what had just happened. I fumbled for my wallet, hoping I had enough to get me out of there with what dignity I had left.

**

Back in the Uber

I shuddered at the memory, causing the car to rock a little. Twenty more minutes. That's about how long it would take me to finish this nightmare and drop her off. I was done looking back at my rider.

"Excuse me. What did you say your name was?" I cursed my luck but didn't give her a reply. "Mister?"

"I didn't." It was a curt reply, hoping the unfriendly tone would end the discussion. I heard her shuffle in her seat so she could get a better look at me. I tried to turn my head, but I was driving on a highway.

"Harry? Harry Edwards? Is that really you?" I didn't reply. "Oh my God! It is! What are the odds?" Her voice now carried a happy, amused tone. "How long has it been?" She was much more animated now.

"A long time." I guardedly answered.

"Oh, my goodness! It's so good to see you!"

I couldn't believe she said that. I turned my head towards her and gave her a glare that made my feelings obvious.

"Oh! Oh, Harry. You're not still upset about... all those years ago?" I refused to engage in any way, keeping my eyes straight ahead. "Harry? Harry, please. That was so long ago. We've all grown since then. Surely, you're not..."

"Please sit back and put your seat belt on." I directed firmly. She waited a minute before she complied.

"Look, Harry. I'm sorry about the way things ended, but we were both young. I... I was immature back then." I said nothing. "Please, Harry. Talk to me."

She spent the next umpteen minutes trying to get me to engage in any type of conversation, but I refused to utter a single word. My anxiety was now teetering with anger, and I wasn't going to be goaded into an angry, yelling match. I looked at my navigation map on my phone for the hundredth time. The estimated time was now twelve minutes to the end of the route. My right foot got heavier.

She must've gotten the hint, as she was quiet for the next ten miles. With any luck, I'll be on my way home and looking at this whole unfortunate situation in the rearview mirror (pun intended).

"So, you're an Uber driver now." Shit. So much for getting the hint. "Do you like it? What happened to your career at that company? Was it energy? No, wait... ENGINEERING! I thought that was going to take off for you."

I didn't sense any condescension in her voice, but history taught me it was there, just hidden better. Seven minutes until the end of the route. Seven... long... minutes.

"There's no shame in putting in the work, Harry. You were always a hard worker. I had just hoped things would have gotten better for you." She looked around at the inside of the car. "I like your car. It's an oldie, but you can tell you take good care of it."

Okay, that one actually caused me to snort. Was she so delusional to think that I'd want to talk to her or even care about what she thought of me? She already did that twenty years ago... and that message was loud and clear.

"Is that a ring on your finger? Did you get remarried?" My silence did nothing to keep her from her curiosity. "That's good, Harry. I'm happy for you. Any children?"

Finally, I pulled into the long driveway of the mansion she now lived in with her CEO husband. It was a well-known fact that he was a multi-millionaire now. I guess she picked a winner after all. I pulled in front of the elaborate entrance and placed my car in park so she could exit. But that would've been too easy.

Instead, she moved to the midsection between the front seats and reached over with a $50 bill in her hand. I looked at it and turned away. "Please take it, Harry." I kept looking out my window. "It's... It's not a sympathy gesture, Harry. It's just a tip. I'm sure you used a lot of gas for this trip." I didn't move a muscle or speak a word, knowing nothing good would come out.

"I tried." Her tone was edgier. I recognized it immediately. "I'm sorry that you still hold a silly grudge for something that happened decades ago. A real man would've put that to rest years ago. All you've done is confirm the decision I made back then."

"This is your destination, Mrs. Palmer. Enjoy the rest of your evening." I said flatly.

She half-dropped, half-threw the $50 bill on my front seat, and pushed herself to the door. With one foot out, she looked back. "Well, good luck with your career, Harry. I hope your wife has incredibly low standards." With that, she stepped out fully and slammed my car door.

**

Susan

I expected him to peel out of the driveway to show his masculine hatred for me, but I watched as he slowly and steadily exited the long drive until he hit the main road. I finally turned around and let myself into the large empty house. Once inside, I entered our security code to disable the alarm, leaned back against the door, and admonished myself for my outburst.

"Why are you such a bitch, Susan?"

I walked across the marble floor, passing our large entertaining area, until my heels clicked their way up the large staircase leading to our master bedroom. The sound barely registered on me anymore, the house was almost always empty. I mindlessly slipped off my day clothes for my comfy silk pajamas and fuzzy slippers. I always thought it was unnecessary, but I was suddenly happy that Charles had a small bar installed in our bedroom.

As I poured myself a glass of red wine, I struggled with the emotions burning deep inside of me. Thinking about what I did and how I did it all those years ago was once again haunting me. "Stupid bitch." Came out of my mouth before I took a deep gulp of the Australian vintage I so loved.

I had strategically buried that evening away to the deepest parts of my psyche, never truly dealing with them. How could I, considering what I threw away for money? I walked to the wall and flipped the little switch that put our gas fireplace on, and moved to my favorite loveseat, curling my legs underneath me as I sat down.

Oh, I've thought of Harry many times, especially in the early years, but I had to keep any emotions and feelings hidden, especially in front of Charles. I took a sip of my wine. All these years, and I couldn't even find a way to be gracious. I realized that in my attempt to strike up a conversation with my ex, I didn't express or sound remorseful for what I did. Not even a little.

I honestly thought... no, hoped I'd never see Harry again because of what I did. Charles had exposed my selfishness and exploited it so easily. Oh, I loved Harry, but I hated that we had no money to do anything. My friends, like Libby, were travelling the world, driving fancy cars, and experiencing life. Charles made it sound so easy. He had the money, the future, and he wanted me to be a part of it. Marry me, he said, and your fairytale will come true.

In the beginning, it was. Travelling, new clothes, parties every weekend. It was the life I had always wanted. Our wedding was a huge spectacle with over six hundred guests, including senators and judges. I was instantly part of the A-list, and doors opened for me everywhere. I never loved Charles like I did, Harry, but his money made it easy for me to pretend. I figured that once we had children, I could focus all my time on them, but as it turns out, Karma had a sick sense of humor. After years of trying, we found out that Charles' sperm count was too low, and it could never happen. I begged him to let me be inseminated from a sperm bank, but despite having the resources, Charles shot it down. He'd never raise another man's kid, even if the donor was anonymous. His feelings about adoption were the same.