This is my shortest story by a wide margin. Many have pleaded for brevity in my storytelling. This is my attempt to accommodate that request. If this shorter story isn't well received, I'll return to my longer format for future postings and acknowledge that I lack the skills to write decent short stories. In the meantime, this is about as brief as I can get. There are no graphic intimate depictions in this story.
Having grown up on a farm, I realized that if I wanted to see more of the world than a trip to the local tractor parts supply store, I was going to have to join the military. Although we weren't dirt poor, we weren't lower middle class either. My mother made my clothes and we never took vacations. Manually loading and stacking bales of hay, straw, and alfalfa occupied most of my day from age seven on up. When I graduated high school, against our parents' wishes, my best friend and I spent four years in the Marines, oorah. We spent time at two bases stateside but ended up being stationed in South Korea and Japan. I felt comfortable being around shorter people because I was only five feet seven inches myself, short but stout.
Because of the cultural differences, we were encouraged to spend most of our leave time at specific American-friendly bars and entertainment. My friend, Hal, and I visited as many tourist attractions as possible, knowing we'd never have another opportunity to see them again. I spent half of my money on the ladies and tried to send the other half back home. Hal had to be treated for the clap several times. I opted for the safer route of condoms and was spared STDs. We engaged in all of the extra-curricular activities that interested us, including the many varied contests that my fellow Marines could dream up. By the time we were honorably discharged, everyone called me Army, even though my name is Calvin Bostic. When we returned home, Hal continued calling me Army and it stuck. The locals picked up on the moniker thinking it to be a slight to my service in the Marines. I never corrected them. In the service, I learned to ignore slights.
Belford, our farming town didn't afford many employment opportunities outside of farming or construction. I didn't want to live far from my mom and pop. I'd seen the world and wanted to settle down. Since I grew up in farming, I decided to opt for construction. I was a laborer and worked hard loading and unloading everything from bricks, blocks, sheetrock, trusses, and, of course, stud lumber. I was sent to deliver and hand-stack loads in locations where fork trucks couldn't negotiate. No stranger to hard work, I could go all day and never wear out. Sure, I'd fade at the end of the day, take a shower and take it easy throwing back a few beers with my friends.
When I first met Stacy at Higgins Restaurant, it was love at first sight. She was the sexiest-looking girl I'd ever seen, and I'd seen my fair share. I must have asked her out thirty times before she said yes. I think she did it to get me to stop asking. We hit it off famously. We got along like two peas in a pod. Two more compatible people were unimaginable. She has it all, looks, personality, humor, and boy did she have curves in the right places and knew how to use them. After nine months of steady dating, I popped the question. We were married six months later. Stacy and I were both twenty-four and couldn't be happier. We talked about starting a family but we agreed to save up a nest egg of enough money to afford a child without putting an excessive strain on our limited incomes. By the time we paid our apartment rent and met our monthly expenses, we were nearly tapped out. We basically lived hand-to-mouth.
Summerville, the third largest city in our state was forty miles away from our Belford hometown. Kensington is a growing bedroom community in which many Summerville commuters lived. Kensington, only twenty-two miles away from Belford was adding new businesses to serve the growing needs of its residents. One such establishment was Stokes Fitness Palace, a co-ed gym that catered to the fitness of both men and women.
"Army, you aren't going to believe the exciting news I heard today."
"Oh? Are they having another sale at the Dollar Store?" I joked.
"No, silly. My friend, Brenda had lunch at the restaurant today, and she told me about a new fitness gym opening over in Kensington. They're interviewing potential hires for the next week or so. She was told the starting pay for the new recruits. Honey, if they hire me, I'll be making about thirty percent more than what I bring home in wages and tips from the restaurant. I could make close to what you bring home. Isn't that wonderful?" She declared. "We can start setting money aside for our family. I want us to finally have that baby we've planned on for so long."
"I hear what you're saying but what do you know about fitness and gyms? Wouldn't you need some kind of degree or something?"
"I don't know what their requirements are for any of these positions, and I'll never know unless I go for an interview. Connie said she'd come in early and cover for me so I can go to Stokes Fitness Palace for an interview and I'll stay over a couple of hours and cover for her this evening. Brenda said she heard that they take walk-ins, no appointments necessary."
"Honey, I don't suppose it would hurt to find out what kind of job opportunities they're offering, and there aren't many other prospects here in Belfort. If you were to get the job, you'd have to commute the distance every workday. I wouldn't get my hopes up but sure, give it a try."
After work the next day.......
"You aren't going to believe this, Army but they offered me a job!"
"At Stokes Fitness Palace in Kensington that you told me about?"
"Yes! They're going to start me at twenty-five percent more than I'm making now and after a two-week performance evaluation, they'll up it to thirty percent more just as Brenda said."
"That almost sounds too good to be true. What is it exactly that you'll be doing for them, Stacy?"
"That's the best part, Army. They have their own in-house on-the-job training program. They'll teach me about all of their machines and strength training equipment. Once I'm up to speed, they'll make me a floor manager. I'll help anyone inexperienced with the equipment. They said that, over time, if I apply myself, I could become a trainer which could add another twenty percent to my salary. Isn't that wonderful?" Stacy excitedly declared.
"When do they want you to start?"
"I told them I'd need to give at least a one-week notice at the restaurant. I don't want to leave them in a bind. They said that would be fine with them. Are you still okay with this, Army? It looks like we'll be able to start setting more money aside now to grow our family. As soon as you think we can afford it, I want to have your baby, honey," Stacy cooed.
"Nothing would please me more," I assured.
At first, Stacy wore conservative attire to her new job, conventional pants with colorful button tops. After a month, she purchased five pairs of yoga pants with matching halter tops. She said her attire needed to be reflective of the gym atmosphere. I could understand that. Three months later, she began wearing spandex short shorts. I didn't like that because I could see her camel toe. She just blew me off as being overprotective and showed me pictures taken in the gym proving that all of the other girls were dressing just like her. She even started receiving cash tips from some of the guys that she helped in various ways. To calm my fears, I took off work early one day and dropped by Stokes Fitness Palace unannounced.
I watched her closely for a couple of minutes before she recognized me and rushed over to greet me. She was not doing anything inappropriate or flirtatious that would cause me to worry.
"Hi, baby! What are you doing here?" She enthused.
"I just wanted to see where my wife works. This is a very nice facility. I'm impressed."
"I'm tickled that you stopped by, Army. Come on, let me introduce you to my supervisor," she insisted.
She walked me over to a hulk of a man. "Gerald? This is my husband, Calvin Bostic. Everybody calls him Army. Army? This is Gerald Jenkins. Everybody calls him Goliath for obvious reasons."
As we shook hands, Goliath tried to intimidate me with his grip without being overtly obvious. He was strong as an ox but I didn't flinch. He was easily 6'2" (188 cm) to my 5'9" (175 cm). I knew my weight to be 175 stocky lbs. (80 kg), and estimated his to be at least 245 lbs. (111 kg) of lean muscle mass. He was ripped, an obvious bodybuilder, a perfect advertisement for the fitness center. We both smiled effusively for Stacy's sake. Someone called him away so Stacy gave me the grand tour and explained much of their operations. I did see two other female coworkers who were dressed similarly to her. I'm glad I stopped by. It eased my mind considerably.
Not long after that encounter, Stacy began coming home with an elevated libido. We were having raucous sex nearly every night. She attributed her augmented appetite to her workouts, fitness, and healthier eating habits. She'd lost some fat and replaced it with muscle. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I accepted her new libidinous energy with equal enthusiasm which typically left us breathless after every coupling. She never mentioned any of the guys she worked with, not even Goliath which I took as a good sign. Then came the day that changed our lives forever.
Friday night, Stacy brought up a change in her schedule.
"Honey, I know I don't usually work weekends but they're having a big promotion going on at the gym tomorrow and they need all hands on deck. There's a very special event taking place at 7 pm. It's a special function not open to the general public, but they want all spouses to be present. I want to show you off to everyone as my husband. Will you make it a special point to be there? Please? Pretty please?" She asked, batting her eyes at me in her coquettish manner.
"What kind of promotion, Stacy? You know I'm not going to sign up for one of their programs. I get plenty of exercise making deliveries."
"I promise, they're not going to try to sign you up for anything."
"Well what is it, then? Are you getting an award or something?"
