Jane Marlow was fretting over the monthly bills scattered on her desk. She scratched her head as she stared at the credit card statement. The amount owed was huge, and it was getting bigger each month as the interest piled onto their new charges. Frustrated, she tossed the statement aside and opened the next envelop. It was the mortgage. The house that her husband talked her into building was gorgeous, but much too large and extravagant for their means. When she had complained to her husband about the large mortgage it would take to afford the house he laughed and said she worried too much. And now she was comparing her current bills with her checkbook balance. She was definitely worrying.
When all the bills were paid, Jane sighed a false sense of relief. At least she made it through another month. Jane promised herself that she would put her foot down and tell her husband that they had to be more prudent. If nothing else, the credit card balance had to be brought to zero. The interest the bank charged was usury. But Jane knew her husband wouldn't agree. He always said, "Let's live for today, who knows what tomorrow will bring." If Jane only knew how prophetic her husband's statement was she would have felt even more anxious.
Other than the financial stress, Jane's life was perfect. She loved her husband, and he did earn a sizable salary. She and her two children had everything they wanted. But there was nothing in their savings for a "rainy day." Thinking about her children brought a smile to her face. Nineteen year old Mark was in college and doing well. Jenny, a year younger than her brother, would be graduating from high school this year and moving on to college. When Jane thought about a new set of college bills, the smile faded. Tuition and books were so expensive. At least Mark commuted from home, and Jenny was planning to do the same.
With the realization of Jenny going to college fresh on her mind, Jane was more determined to confront her husband on his recklessness. She only bothered him at work when it was an emergency, but this was an emergency. The distraught wife and mother dialed her husband.
"This is Ira Marlow. I can't come to the phone right now so, at the beep..."
Jane slammed the phone down. "If he's working late, why isn't he at his desk?" she muttered to herself.
What Jane didn't know was that her husband wasn't working late like he had told her. In fact, it was his usual lie. Ira Marlow had another problem. He liked to gamble. At that very moment he was at the race track tearing up yet another losing ticket of a long shot that was accurately handicapped.
By the time Ira returned home Jane wasn't as mad. And when she brought up the subject, her charming husband's smile diffused any lingering anger. She loved him and knew he loved her. So what if he was extravagant? After all, a lot of it was spent on her and the children. And he worked so hard to provide the luxuries -- like that very night.
"Shhh, the kids are in their rooms," Jane whispered when her husband became frisky.
"So, I can't fuck my wife?"
"Ira Marlow! Watch your language!"
"You know, someday I'm gonna have it out with your parents," Ira said only half jokingly. "They raised a prude, you know."
"That's not funny. I'm not a prude."
Ira looked at his beautiful wife -- long dark hair, big eyes, high cheekbones, pale flawless skin, firm breasts with nipples that got real long, thin waist, full hips, round butt, and a model's thin but curvy legs. His fingers traced the sensitive skin of her belly, unbelievably flat even after two pregnancies.
"Okay, let's just say you're conservative."
"What does that mean?" Jane replied in a huff.
Ira was sorry he started this conversation. His wife was a prude when it came to making love and being sexy. She dressed conservatively and wasn't adventurous in bed. Kissing, stroking, and fucking in the missionary position was acceptable to her. Occasionally, if Ira came up from behind, he could enter her that way -- from behind, not in her behind. She complained that it was demeaning and she felt like an animal doing it that way, but sometimes gave in to her husband's persistence. Early in their marriage Ira tried going down on her, but Jane went ballistic. She thought that area was dirty and couldn't understand why he wanted to put his mouth there. When he suggested she use her mouth on him, Jane actually locked herself in the bathroom. He never asked again.
"Well, why do you say I'm conservative?" Jane continued. "Because I'm not a slut?"
"Let's forget it."
"No, you brought it up so I want to hear what you mean."
"Well, you don't try new things when it comes to sex."
"I do my duty," Jane said indignantly. "I'm a good wife and gave you two children."
"I'm sorry, you're right," Ira relented. He tried to continue where they had left off when the argument began.
"I'm not in the mood anymore," Jane said pushing his hand off her breast and getting out of bed. She put her nightgown on and climbed under the covers. "Give me a kiss goodnight."
Ira understood his wife's tone of voice and leaned over, giving her a peck on the lips. Jane rolled over, facing away from him, and closed her eyes. Ira went into the bathroom and jerked off, wondering why, after 20 years of marriage, he didn't know better than to bring that subject up.
* * * *
Jane sat in the living room with the TV on, but she wasn't watching it. She kept wringing her hands in her lap wondering what Ira's boss wanted. Mr. Jones had called and asked if he could come over. He said it was very important. Jane thought it odd that her husband's boss wanted to speak to her while Ira was away on business. To make matters worse, Mr. Jones always made Jane uncomfortable. He was a large domineering man, vulgar by Jane's standards, but what could she say? Mr. Jones said he needed to talk to her... that it was important... and he was her husband's boss. She was so engrossed in her thoughts and fretting over what Mr. Jones wanted to talk about that she jumped when the doorbell rang.
Jane rushed to the door and let the large man into her house. She led him to the living room where he sat down on the couch. Jane looked around and decided to sit on a chair. She sat upright, with her knees together and her hands in her lap. Jane anxiously waited for her husband's boss to speak.
"How have you been?" Joe Jones asked.
Jane was surprised by the courteous question. The coarse man never seemed to be well-mannered. Her only contact with him was at company functions, so maybe he had always put on a rough front during those to impress people. Maybe she had judged him incorrectly. Jane felt more at ease and relaxed her clenched fists.
"Fine, thank you. And how about you and your lovely wife?" Jane answered in her most friendly voice.
"Just fine... and the missus too." Jane saw Mr. Jones' facial features harden and she felt nervous again. "You must be wondering why I wanted to see you?"
"Yes, I was kind of surprised by your call... especially with Ira out of town and all."
"It's better if he's not here. I want to talk to you about him."
"About Ira? Whatever could you want to talk about?"
"First, are you aware of your husband's gambling problem?"
Jane was stunned, but after a few moments of uneasy silence she said, "Ira doesn't have a gambling problem. He doesn't even gamble."
Mr. Jones opened the briefcase he had brought and pulled out a manila envelop. He blew into the open end to separate it, and thumbed through some sheets of paper, removing several. When he spread them out on the coffee table Jane saw that they were photographs. She sat silent.
"Look at these," Mr. Jones said.
To Jane it sounded like an order which didn't sit well with her. But she was now curious so she got up and took the few steps to the coffee table. She stared at a series of photographs of her husband at the race track, sometimes making a bet, sometimes tearing up his losing tickets, sometimes just with the horses in the background. Some of the other photographs were of Ira playing cards in a smoky room with what looked to Jane like a bunch of seedy men.
"Where'd you get these?" a perplexed Jane asked.
"That's not important. You see, we've been investigating Ira."
"What! Why?"
"I'm getting to that. Our auditors uncovered a large amount of theft so we began our investigation. After a thorough investigation, all wrongdoing pointed at Ira. So we had a private investigator, um, watch him."
"They must be wrong. Ira wouldn't steal. And Ira doesn't gamble," the exasperated woman said, feeling tears well up in her eyes.
"Well, as you can see, your husband does gamble." Mr. Jones then partly pulled out more papers from the manila envelop and fanned them. "And I have the proof that he's been stealing from us as well."
Shocked, Jane sat open-mouthed listening to the accusations. All of a sudden the room began to spin and then went dark. When Jane opened her eyes she was lying on the couch with Mr. Jones standing over her.
"Would you like a drink of water?" the large man asked.
"What happened? Oh god, I remember. It can't be. Ira isn't like that. What are you going to do?"
"That's why I'm here," Joe Jones said. "I have a proposition for you."
"For me? What can I do?"
Jane saw a wicked smile spread across Mr. Jones' face. "Well, Mrs. Marlow... can I call you Jane?" When she nodded he continued. "Jane, you can help your husband out... your family too. I have enough evidence to send Ira to prison for a long time. During the investigation we looked into your personal finances." Mr. Jones raised his hand to silence Jane. "Yeah, yeah, I know that's illegal, but I'll swear on a stack of bibles that we never did it. I'm just telling you because I want you to fully understand your situation. From what we found, you spend extravagantly."
