(This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. For fans of my stories, they know what kinds of things to expect. This story deals with similar themes as the stories by wannabeboytoy, seducedHylas, and Dark Betrayal, namely cheating, betrayal, and heartbreak. If stuff like that isn't your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn't bother reading it. I do not condone any of these actions in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.)
(Additional note for this series: EACH CHAPTER IN THIS SERIES CAN BE READ ON ITS OWN. Each chapter is self-contained, but if you do read the whole thing, some of the specific details will become clearer and more fleshed-out. Enjoy)
**************
(Chapter 2)
Dale Calvorson watched as two cars filled with the entire Calvorson clan headed off to the Church for Christmas Eve services. The 40-year-old was the middle child of Polly Calvorson, her oldest son, and he was the only person in the family left behind.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
Not that he was fundamentally offended by the Church, or anything like that. He just didn't have time for it. He was a logical, tactile man, far more comfortable with the here and now, not some metaphysical concepts on the nature of existence.
He preferred working with his hands, as evidenced by his occupation of a contractor. He took great joy out of simple things like home repair. His own house was reasonably humble, but he knew it so well that he had everything running like clockwork. If even the slightest thing went wrong, he knew exactly what was required to repair it.
Even though he was now just over the hill, his active lifestyle kept him in good shape. He was well-built, without really trying. Clean living had served him well, even though he liked some good hearty whiskey and a big, juicy steak now and then, giving him something closer to what the kids call a 'Dad-bod' than one of a fitness freak. He was pretty tall, about six foot four. That, combined with his slightly gruff demeanor, made him intimidating to people who didn't know him. He had short brown hair, and a closely shorn beard, speckled with spots of gray.
He'd lived in Deerburg all his life, and him and his wife and daughter lived on the other side of town. Even though his mom was not far away, he didn't come visit as often as he should. He saw his mother plenty enough, but he wasn't exactly making surprise trips over to the home he was raised in. And that was part of the reason why he hung back while the rest of the family went out for the early parts of the day. His mom had given him a list of issues around the house that had kinda piled up since his last visit, and with the family out of the way, it was his mission to get as much fixed up as he could.
Luckily, he had plenty of time to work. After church, most of the family were heading downtown to the Christmas parade, another event Dale had no time for anymore. He liked that kind of stuff as a kid, but he'd seen it all before. He wasn't exactly dripping with Christmas spirit either. He liked Christmas as a kid, and some of his best memories as a father was the joy on his daughter's face on Christmas morning when she was a little girl. But he was the kind of guy who didn't have a huge interest in tons of material things, and he was one of those guys who would gladly opt for maybe one or two gifts max. But his whole family would rebel at such a thought.
His relationship with money was far different than everyone else in his family. There was one point when they were younger, when his dad died, and all his family's income was just suddenly gone. And from this singular event, he and his siblings each took very different lessons. His older sister, Penelope, who is a huge bitch, took the lesson that she should seek out wealth from someone else. And she did that, marrying a lawyer, who gave her a life of comfort and opulence. He gave her two children, Connor, her oldest, was 18, and a good kid. But he was a bit spoiled, the type that always seemed to get what he wanted. Her youngest, Billie, was a young one, a middle-schooler, but she was already turning into a younger version of her mother. To Dale, this was a much-deserved fate for Penelope, who again, was a huge bitch, and she would now be inflicted with the same treatment she'd put everyone else through.
His younger brother, Colin, who was 30 years old now, took a different lesson from when their dad died and the family was suddenly short on income. While fundamentally a good guy, he was obsessed by being perceived as wealthy. From an early age he was always trying to wear nice clothes, and drive nice cars, and own nice things, even when he couldn't always afford it. But Dale had to admit, he had some hustle. And despite a lack of any formal training, he'd worked his way into a pretty lucrative sales job, where he thrived. And while he was still a good-hearted man, he never stopped trying to hustle for a bit more. He kept trying to be perceived as rich, even when he actually made good money, to the point where he'd sometimes be seen as phony. He was a passionate guy, and he would go all in on everything. He'd gotten married a few years back, to a truly genuine and kind woman named Juliet, a woman clearly above his level. He was this guy with all this hustle and swagger, and she was this sweetheart of a woman who worked for a non-profit. They seemed like opposites, but she saw the good in him, as did Dale. Yet Colin kept trying to sell past the close, wanting to shower his wife with gifts and all sorts of things, things she didn't need or really want, but things Colin thought she wanted. Maybe deep down, he was worried he'd lose her, and he didn't fully believe that she loved him for who he was, and not just the things he could give her.
Dale took the most practical lesson from that fateful event so many years ago. Instead of marrying into wealth, or acting the part until he got it, Dale put in the work, and learned a lot, and built himself up. He'd turned his small contracting gig into one of the largest contracting companies in the state, making a lot of money for himself. And he was practical, not spending frivolously, investing wisely and living humbly, unlike his siblings. He didn't have the biggest house. He didn't drive the nicest car. But he was the most at peace.
His wife was chosen with this same mindset. Paula wasn't some supermodel. She was a funny, hard working woman, a schoolteacher. And she was one of the few who could really get the normally reserved Dale to open up. A stout woman, not some stick figure that some guys wanted, she could hold her own with things that some women would leave for their husbands. She wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, shoveling snow in a blizzard, helping him out with fixes around the house, etc. Some guys liked women who dressed nice and looked cute, but for Dale, nothing turned him on more than seeing Paula changing the tire on her car.
She'd also given him a daughter, Tricia. When she was younger, she was the light of his life, a light of pure positivity, making him smile in ways he never had. But not everything was a storybook, and as she got older, she'd had some trouble with other girls in school, and had sort of retreated into her shell. She'd always been a bit shy, and she wasn't the prettiest girl, and she wasn't the skinniest either, so some of the meaner girls really locked in to these things. Dale had hoped going to college and meeting new people would help. But frankly, she'd had a pretty rotten attitude since coming back home. So instead of the Christmas holidays being fun and joyful, it had been slightly awkward.
So, with the entire family out of the house, Dale threw himself into work. He loved repairs and stuff like that, and with this free time he was ready to enjoy the peace and quiet and get some stuff done. Before the family left, he'd helped his mother, Polly, with the turkey. As he took care of some of the smaller home projects she'd asked him to look in to, he would check in with the kitchen periodically to make sure the house wasn't burning down. Seeing everything going smoothly, he felt free to get right down to business on some of the bigger projects.
Within an hour, he was feeling pretty good about himself. A leaky pipe in the basement repaired. Some busted electrical sockets replaced. A loose floorboard fixed-up. It might sound boring to some, but for him, this was a lot of fun. This is where he got his fulfillment. Dale could handle himself in many vocations, and to him, having to call someone in for repairs always felt like a failure. If he could do it, he would. Why would he pay some repair guy when he could get the job done just as well?
One thing about Dale that even he could admit to was that he was notoriously cheap. Not one to waste money on things the slightest bit frivolous, it was often a point of contention. His siblings and friends would make fun of him for it, and it had caused a few fights in his house. Paula was frugal herself, but sometimes even she prickled at his cheapness. Most of the time, she understood where he was coming from. It was Tricia who complained the most, echoing the same types of argument his brother, Colin, would make. If he had all this money, why not spend it and have a little fun? Tricia would complain about all the other kids having their own cars while Dale drove her to school, and how she never had the nicest clothes and phones, stuff like that. It got so bad that even Dale had to give in slightly, just to ease the tensions around the house. But even when he did get her a cheap, simple start-up car, and allow her some more money for nicer things, it was never enough for her.
Renewing his focus on the work at hand, Dale moved into the laundry room. His mother had mentioned that the washer had a leak, and that the dryer had an unusual clicking noise whenever it ran. Pulling them out away from the wall and opening them up, he got back to work. It didn't take long to find the problems, and as he plugged them both back in and tested them, the washer ran without a leak, and the dryer purred like a kitten. In fact, it began emitting beautiful music, lovely singing voices hitting his ears. Suddenly realizing that this was impossible, that his repair skills weren't quite that good, he turned the dryer off, only to realize that he could still hear the singing voices. Confused, he walked through the house, looking for the source of the noise. Grasping that it was coming from outside, he set down his tools, opened up the front door, and stepped outside.
There stood two young women on the sidewalk in front of the house, singing, smiling at the new presence in front of them. They were young, maybe 19 or 20, and both were quite stunning. On the left was a brunette, slim and well put-together, clad in stylish boots, dark tight denim jeans, and a black stylish pea coat, buttoned up at the front to combat the cold. She was very pretty, with playful hazel eyes and a good tan. Her smooth chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and on top of her head was a fluffy blue knit cap. Next to her was a blonde. Taller and skinnier than her friend, she was dressed similarly, boots, slim jeans, and a jacket. But her jacket was white instead of black and a bit fluffier, like one she would wear on a ski trip. She had a matching knit cap on her head too, on top of her smooth, silky blonde hair. There was a bit of a sharpness to her beautiful tanned face, with dangerous blue eyes, a thin nose, and lips that formed a natural pout. And her hair had a certain stylish choppiness to it, ending at her shoulders.
It took a few moments before Dale realized these two were carolers, recognizing that they were singing 'O Holy Night.' He'd never encountered actual carolers before, despite it always seeming like a Christmas tradition, so he stood on the patio awkwardly, watching them, not knowing what else to do. Finally, they finished up, and looked up at him.
"Uh... very good, ladies," the older man said with a nod, giving an awkward clap. They smiled at him brightly.