Thursday Nights Conclusion

Thank you, Erik Thread for your great editing skills. I changed it after he looked at it so any mistakes or errors are mine.

This is the second of a two part story, posted on consecutive days. You should read Part 1 before you read this conclusion. Please vote and leave your comments.

There are no hot sex scenes in this conclusion, so if that's what you are looking for, please read elsewhere. What you will find here, is second half of the story about Jerry and Cathy Preston who had a happy, loving family until something changed.

*

The children weren't expected home from their overnight stay with the Hanson's until around noon. I'd tried to sleep, but had given up and got up about six, but I still didn't know what I was going to do. Nor did I know how I could explain anything to my children. I just knew I was not going to live with a woman who would make a cuckold out of me. Either she was going to leave, or I was, but I didn't want my children to live with a slut either.

I wasn't really operating on all cylinders. I knew there were things I had to do around the house, but I couldn't make myself move out of my chair. I wasn't muttering or talking to myself, but I kept hearing Cathy's voice saying, "Boss Man Wayne. Fat Cock Wayne." I don't know how long I sat there. I guess I was just staring into space, trying to process what had gone wrong with my marriage.

My middle child, Becky, came home early. She said she'd had enough of Missy Hanson. She looked around for a minute and asked, "Dad, where's Mom?"

I tried to make my voice sound normal, "She'll be home later. Go put your stuff in your room."

It probably wasn't smart to send Becky up to her room because she would see inside the master bedroom and notice Cathy's side of the bed hadn't been slept in. She was back in less than a minute. "Dad, what's wrong? Where's Mom?"

"We had a date last night. We spent the night at the hotel. I left her still sleeping so I'd be here when you all came home." I wasn't sure she believed me, but at that point, I really didn't care.

Becky said "Okay," but from the tone of her voice, I knew she wasn't really thinking everything was okay. She finally went back to her room. I soon heard her computer speakers blasting the sounds of her favorite game.

About half an hour later, the front doorbell rang. When I opened the door, Cathy stepped into the house, carrying our small suitcase. "Pay that damn taxi," she growled as she walked toward the stairs on her way to our bedroom. She looked rough. Her face had no color and her hair was a mess. Although she'd put on the other clothes we'd packed, she still looked like she was barely able to walk on her own.

I gave her twenty minutes before I went to our bedroom and closed the door behind me. Cathy was just coming out of the bathroom. Her hair was wet and she was beginning to look a little better.

"Why the hell did you leave me at the hotel?" She wasn't yelling, but she didn't miss it by much.

I didn't answer her question. Instead, I asked one of my own. "You wanna tell my why Fat Cock Wayne fucked my wife's pretty little pussy?"

Her face lost the small amount of color that had returned. Her eyes opened wide then she turned her back to me. I could see her shoulders, in fact her whole body, was shaking.

"Is he the only one?"

Cathy shrugged her shoulders, but she wouldn't turn around to answer me. I was beyond caring if someone heard me yelling at her. "Have there been others?"

She still wasn't talking.

"Answer me, Cathy. Have there been others? How many times have you broken our marriage vows, huh?"

Cathy shook her head as she walked to her closet and dropped the towel then pulled her robe from the closet. As I was asking my last question about other men, I saw her back. In the dim light of the hotel room, I hadn't noticed two long red lines down one side of her ass.

"And, would you care to tell my how you managed to get that scratch on your ass?"

Cathy turned around, lifted the back of her robe, and looked over her shoulder at the mirror on the inside of her closet door.

I'd never seen a person fall apart before, but Cathy crumbled into a heap on the floor. She was wailing, "Oh my God, oh my God. Jerry, I am so ... so sorry."

"Yeah, me too." I turned and walked out of the room. It might not be a good idea to be around sharp objects for a while, but I figured I'd feel a lot better if I could attack something inanimate. So, I took my chain saw out to the rear of the yard and started cutting up the last of the larger limbs I'd trimmed from the bigger trees. At first, I wasn't in very good shape, I was shaking with anger, but the chain saw required all of my attention and my nerves calmed after a little while.

I'd been working for about an hour when I noticed Cathy sitting on the tree stump. Her face was swollen from crying, but at this point, I didn't care. "I thought you would have packed up and left by now." I was disgusted and so angry I didn't care if I was yelling.

She stood, put her hands on her hips, and screamed at me, "What! You expect me to leave?"

I turned off the saw and put it on the ground before I started walking toward her. "You fucked another man, Cathy. That tells me you don't care anything about our children, our marriage, or me. You need to pack your bags and get the hell out of here." I'd said my piece. I turned back to pick up the chain saw. If I was going to cry, I wasn't going to let her see it.

I'd only taken two or three steps when I was struck from behind. I rolled over on the ground and came up prepared to swing at someone. If I hadn't checked my swing, I'd have hit Cathy with my fist.

"What are you talking about, buster?" Despite her tears, Cathy was screaming at me.

My voice was at least as loud as hers was, but I wasn't crying. "I'm not going to live with a wife who cannot be faithful and I'm not going to allow my children to live with a mother who's a slut. Get your stuff packed and get out."

"I'm not going anywhere, Jerry. We have to talk about this."

"Talk? Now you want to talk? I've tried to get you to talk to me for weeks, but you've said we didn't have a problem. You may think fucking your boss isn't a problem, but I sure as hell do."

"Jerry ..."

"No, Cathy. No more talk. You pack or I'll pack for you. You have one hour."

I turned back to the limb I was sawing into shorter lengths and started the chain saw. I worked steadily for that hour, while I also got some kind of control over my emotions. I could not afford to fall apart. I had three children I was responsible for taking care of and at that moment, they were more important than my cheating wife was. Then I went into the house and into our bedroom. There was a large gap on Cathy's side of the closet, showing she'd packed some clothes and most of her cosmetics were missing from the bathroom. It was strange how a couple of suitcases of Cathy's things, removed from our home, could make it feel so empty.

As I was walking back to the kitchen, Becky was a few steps behind me. "Dad?"

"Yeah, Beck?"

"Mom said to tell you she was going to Aunt Sherry's for a couple of nights until you get over your temper tantrum."

"Oh, so she said I had a tantrum, huh?"

"Yeah. What did Mom do to cause your tantrum?"

"Sorry, Beck, that's a parent thing."

"Oh, okay. Can I go tell Benny and Tina it's okay to come home, now?"

"Yeah, that might be a good idea."

I guess I wasn't surprised that Cathy would go to stay with her recently divorced sister. They weren't very close, but she was family. It was Sherry's second divorce. Their parents were probably in California, Florida, or maybe even Alaska. They had sold their house, moved into an apartment, and spent most of their time in a big motor home. Sherry was living in their parent's apartment until she could afford an apartment of her own.

Sue Hanson called to say she could help with the children after school until Cathy returned home. I could not imagine what Cathy had told our neighbors about her reason for leaving home, or if Sue was making the offer based on something Becky had said. I thanked Sue and let her talk as much as she wanted, thinking Cathy might have told Sue something about her affair with her boss. When Sue said she didn't realize I had such a bad temper, I knew Cathy hadn't told Sue the truth. I was a little surprised, Cathy never had been very good about keeping a secret. She frequently talked to Sue about really personal family matters. I'd been embarrassed a number of times when someone mentioned something Cathy had told.

There was really only one option for me. I was not going to let my neighbor talk to my children every afternoon about the changes in our home. Sue would likely share what she learned with everyone else in the neighborhood. I had to call my mother. I could not take any time off work. The plant was running twenty-four hours a day, overtime was available for anyone interested, and I was a shift supervisor. If I didn't show up for work, I'd lose my job. However, calling my mother was almost as bad as losing my job. She was the nearest thing to a busy-body I'd ever known. She wanted to know everything about everyone's business. She would want to tell me how to live my life, and then watch to see that I did it her way.

It was a little easier than I thought it would be. Mother didn't really ask many questions about why Cathy was spending some time with her sister, other than how long I needed her to stay, so I just said a couple of weeks. I could probably have some solutions worked out by then. I had no earthly idea what solutions I would find, but I wasn't going to admit that to my mother. Mother promised to be at my house that night or the next morning before I left for work.

I took the kids to a buffet for supper. They put too much food on their plates, but I made sure all three of them ate a good meal. We had a long discussion about the things a child should know about their parent's personal lives and that there were things they were not allowed to know. They all agreed that as long as they had a parent who loved them, saw that they were safe, fed well, and their lives didn't change from the basics of what they were accustomed to, they should trust the parent. Each time one of them asked about their mother, I told them that I was the parent and I would keep the promises I'd made to take care of them. If they asked me a question I didn't think they needed to know the answer to, I would tell them it was something I was supposed to take care of and they didn't need to be concerned.

Cathy called a little before bedtime and talked to each of the children. I heard each of them say, in one way or another, "Dad's taking care of that." I know she questioned all three of them, but they stuck to the message. Becky was the last to talk to her mother. Before Becky hung up I told her to ask for her Aunt Sherry and I took the telephone from her.

It didn't matter what Cathy had told Sherry, I didn't care. I told Sherry that Cathy was not to call the house or my cell phone at any time during the day or I'd have the telephones disconnected. She could call and talk to each of the children before bedtime. Any communication between my soon-to-be-ex-wife and me would be done through our lawyers. I would arrange for her to see them as soon as I learned about the minimum requirements for an absent parent's visits. The only other thing I needed to know was where did Cathy want me to deliver the rest of her clothes?

***

With my mother in charge of the house, I went to work a little early Monday morning. I stopped by the personnel office and changed my work schedule from a five day week, to a four day week. It would mean much longer days, but for the time being I really needed the additional day off during the week.

I did not dare give attention to anything while I was working. Being around heavy machinery is dangerous if you allow your mind to wander. Any thoughts or considerations I was going to give to my marriage, my children, or my unfaithful wife would have to wait until I was away from the plant.

During my lunch hour, I called my lawyer for an appointment on my first day off. I wasn't going to wait around for anything to change. Cathy couldn't un-fuck her boss. I stopped by the company credit union office and had them take Cathy's name off my accounts and cancel her credit card. They agreed to issue a check in Cathy's name for half the money in the checking account and mail it to her parent's apartment. I also called her company credit union and asked them to remove my name from that account. Cathy never had much money in the account anyway. After her car payment was deducted, she spent the rest on herself or the kids. Any other financial arrangements would have to wait until some other day.

***

At first, the information my lawyer gave me, frightened me. He helped a little with a couple of creditors who were being difficult about taking Cathy's name off some accounts. He seemed to think that although we had owned the house for less than six months, the work we had done had probably increased the value of the house by about $30,000 and that I owed Cathy half of that. He also thought she might be able to claim half of the value of my retirement account. I began to object that because none of her income had gone into a retirement account for herself, which I could have half of, I shouldn't need to give her half of mine. He said he might be able to negotiate a lot of that in exchange for Cathy not having to pay child support.

Finances might be tight for a little while but in less than a year, I'd have twenty years with the plant. I would probably get a promotion and my income would go up substantially. It may sound like I wasn't being fair to my wife, but by that time, as a single parent with three children, I would be in the best financial position of my life. I could begin to make deposits to the tiny college accounts I'd opened when each of my children were born.

When we finally got down to discussing the smaller details, a few things started to fall on my side of the balance sheet. Every year when Cathy and I had our tax return prepared, we discussed how much she really earned, when we considered the additional expenses of a working mother. During the summer, we needed paid child care. Cathy's wardrobe costs were much higher for professional clothing. Even food costs became part of the conversation. When we looked at standards, Cathy's income actually benefited our family only a few hundred dollars a month, which I could earn with a few hours of overtime. No matter what I said, she still wanted to keep her job, thinking it would eventually lead to a promotion, although she didn't have the necessary education and wouldn't stop working long enough to go to school and she refused to take evening classes.

By the time I left my lawyer's office, I knew a lot more about what I could and could not do about visitation. I didn't like what I knew, but my lawyer talked to me about some provisions her lawyer would insist on being done before the divorce was final, particularly some kind of allowance for temporary support. I finally agreed that Cathy loved her children. I shouldn't take out my anger against the children. They wanted to see their mother. I might be trying to convince myself that I no longer loved or trusted Cathy, but that didn't mean I wanted to hurt her children, through her.

With some difficulty, I asked my Mother to leave the house for a couple of hours while I had a family meeting with my children. I carefully explained that their mother had decided she did not want to be married to me. I may have stretched the truth a little, but in my mind, that was exactly what she had done. I answered their questions as carefully as I could, explaining that their mother and I loved them, we would just not be showing that love as a couple. I reinforced the message that I was the parent, responsible for them, and I would do everything I could to keep their lives unchanged from what it had been before their mother left.

***

The evening after I went to the lawyer's office, when Cathy called, she spoke to Becky first. While they talked, I heard Becky telling her mother they could go to supper with her one night a week, as long as she had them back home before their bedtime. They could also spend one weekend a month with her, from the time they got home from school Friday afternoon until six on Sunday evening.

While Benny talked to his mother, Becky came into the kitchen to tell her grandmother and me that they were going to supper with their mother the next Thursday night. I don't think Cathy did it on purpose, but hearing she was selecting a Thursday night gave me a chill. Thursday nights had been special nights for us, until she'd started fucking her boss on Thursday afternoons. Now, she was going to see her kids on Thursday nights. I didn't like it, but I couldn't do anything about it. Mother saw the look on my face and I held up my hand to stop her from saying anything. I went out to the garage while Tina talked to her mom.

After the kids had calmed down from their long winded telephone conversations, I got them into their beds and returned to the kitchen. I'd put off the conversation with Mother for almost a week. I figured I'd kept her from asking questions about as long as I could. Mom even agreed to drink a beer with me, while we talked about what Cathy had done.

"You need to forgive her Jerry. You know she was just doing anything she could to keep her job."

I wasn't really surprised that my mother had talked to my wife. I had never shared very much about my marriage with my mother. The less I told her, the less she could try to manage my life. I finally told her how much money Cathy made at her job and mother was surprised she had continued to work at such a low paying job. Cathy had always let people believe she had a lot of responsibility at work, but the truth was, she delivered paperwork and picked up sealed courier packages the stores sent to the main office.

I was still refusing to have a conversation with Cathy. I was afraid I was just too angry. I also didn't think she was telling my mother the truth. "I thought the two of you have probably been talking behind my back."

"Don't be that way, son. I didn't do anything to hurt you. Cathy needs to know her children are being taken care of, that's all I did. She's been like a daughter to me for pretty close to twenty years. Don't forget that." Mother took a good swallow of her beer and continued, "Now tell me you'll talk to her."

"I can't, Mother. I just can't stand to listen to anything she wants to say. I can't tell you the number of times we talked about someone we knew, or someone she worked with, who had an affair or played around on a spouse. Every single time we mentioned the subject of being unfaithful, Cathy and I promised each other we would never do anything like that to our family."

"Jerry, marriages get stale, people grow apart, it takes a lot of effort to make a marriage work."

"Mother, all right, so maybe I didn't do it every year, but I got close. Every year I tried to take Cathy out for our anniversary. It started out as a lark, just trying to test out memory, but it got easier every year. We sort of repeated our marriage vows to each other. We got them mixed up, but we got all those "trust, honor, and obey" words in there. We even said the "forsaking each other" things."

"Your father was never faithful to me." I heard the pain in her voice, but he had been dead for more than ten years and it was obvious the pain was no longer as deep.

"I know, Mother. I guess that's why it was so important to me."

"I didn't divorce him."

I was suddenly angry with her, too. She lived with a man who screwed every woman he thought he could get. He was quiet about it, but I'm sure word got back to Mother, sometimes many years later, but also while his affair was happening. "Why the hell did you put up with it, huh? Why did you let him do that to you?"