[::: Authors Note :::]
I admit I have a soft spot for the emotion of Loving Wives' stories about the strange car in the driveway. This story started from that view but quickly morphed into something else entirely.
There will be lots of familiar clichΓ©s throughout the story; of course, being my style, it's also long and dramatic in parts, so if you're looking for a quick story or as some people like to tell me, you say in ten words what others write in two, then perhaps this story isn't for you.
This story is in four parts and is a little over 85,000 words. The entire series is written, and I plan to submit a part each Sunday evening for the next four weeks. Originally this was going to be a single part under 20,000 words... nevertheless, by the time I got to the end of drafting the initial plot, there were enough words for a four-part series. I've also classified this story as a BTF or 'Burn the Family'. There is a lot here of hurt and betrayal written within, but admittedly there is also forgiveness and lingering bitterness. Again, I am trying to look at emotions along with the events to see what works and what doesn't.
For those of you who say this wouldn't happen in real life, you're likely correct. But this is a story, and I enjoyed putting it together, so as always, suspend your belief of what would happen in real life and enjoy the show!
I always welcome compliments and constructive comments, but I generally ignore insults. I want to thank my editing team, miket0422, Larry & Wayne, for working with me to make this story a better version of itself. Working with people in Australia, Europe, and the US is extraordinary. You are all fantastic, and I enjoy working with all of you.
I hope you enjoy 'The Nuclear Family.'
[:::: The Nuclear Family ::::]
We all know how the story goes. The guy comes home early to find a strange car in the driveway. He sneaks into his house, then, with the bile rising in his stomach, creeps through the house, finding clues of infidelity until the moment he finds them in his bed doing the horizontal tango.
It was sort of like that for me, but then again, it was much worse; as I found them, my life and everything in it spiralled out of control.
[:::: Part 1 ::::]
It had almost been a disaster. The contracts sent to the client had mistakes all over them, unfitting quantities, incorrect costs, and the formatting were just plain wrong. So when my older brother Brad Jr asked me to help him out of a mess like I always do, I should have expected that things were not on the level or even done how they were supposed to be.
I let my wife, Georgia, as well as my family consisting of my Dad, Brad Sr, Mum, Hattie, along with my older sister, Joanna, the middle child, know that I was flying out for a quick three days to fix Brad Jr's mistakes, again, ensuring we didn't lose the contract.
When I spoke to the client over the phone, they were lukewarm after viewing what my brother sent to them. So I knew I needed to get in front of them to help straighten out the issues, or our family business could be in for a rough ride for a few months.
Our family business, Total Build, builds portable homes all over the country. The houses are tiny and focused on a few industries but always mobile. If you have ever been to a caravan park and stayed in one of the little houses they have, that's us. We're the people to see if you're looking for a getaway cabin on the beach or the Australian outback.
My name is Robert Other. My friends and family call me Robbie. When this story started, I was the operations manager for the family business where my entire family worked, including my wife. Well, my wife, Georgia, did until a couple of months ago. She had to stop working due to being six months pregnant with our first child.
As operations manager of Total Build, my role looked after logistics, shipping, resources, and people. In addition, I coordinated the finances along with sales, ensuring that people got what they wanted and our thirty staff on the factory floor knew what they were building to which specification.
Mum and Dad waved the flag as the executive team, my sister did admin on the factory floor, and my screwup of an older brother was in sales. Brad was one of the worst salespeople I had ever seen, but Mum and Dad thought the light shined out of this hairy ass, though I could never figure out why.
Overall, you would look at us and think we were one of those old-school nuclear families. You know the ones, Mum, Dad and three rug rats. Sure, we fought and disagreed sometimes, but I thought we always had each other's backs, trusting each other to be there when one of us needed help.
As I ducked home, packing a bag before rushing for a flight so I could be with the client first thing in the morning. Georgia was sitting on the bed rubbing her pregnant belly. Her rapidly growing breasts had, with pregnancy, grown large brown areola. She was almost poking me in the eye, her breasts demanding I stay home as I looked at her in that thin cotton top. But, instead of enjoying my wife's sensual curves, Georgia was sitting on our bed, listening to me complain about my brother's latest screwup as I packed a carry-on bag for the trip. She tried to interject when I stopped to breathe, checking for my toothbrush and deodorant in the bathroom.
"Robbie," Georgia spoke to me in a know-it-all tone. "You know that he means well. Brad talks well as a sales guy. But, unfortunately, he isn't good with numbers like you."
It was an old argument between us.