INSTRUMENT OF VENGEANCE by Hooked1957
Most people don't have any idea about how long forever is. They think it's a concept like infinity.
I know that's not true. Forever for me lasted 15 years, two months, 27 days, and some odd hours.
It ended much the same way it started: with my wife, Traci, looking lovingly into her partner's eyes before a passionate kiss. The one difference, however, is that I was that partner the first time, and the kiss came right after I asked her to be mine forever on the night I gave her an engagement ring. This time I was a mere witness in a restaurant two towns away from where we live, as she and an apparently new lover stared adoringly into each other's eyes, then leaned in for a most passionate kiss.
How I came to be in the same restaurant as the pair doesn't matter. It was obvious from the fact that they had traveled an hour away from our hometown that they were taking precautions not be seen by anyone who knew them. My first reaction when I saw them was one of curiosity, then quickly changed to shock, disgust, and anger as the scene played out in front of me. I immediately thought about getting up and slugging her date, but then again I had always been taught to never strike a woman. So I just sat there, completely dumbstruck.
Since the two of them only had eyes for each other and apparently felt safe they wouldn't be seen by anyone who knew them, they took their time eating, playing kissy-face occasionally. I ate very slowly and had a dessert, so I watched them throughout their meal. My feelings alternated between rage and helplessness. When they finished, they got up, took each other's hand and left.
I sat there in silent rage and felt like the biggest clueless schmuck in the whole world. I had been married to Traci for more than 14 years, and we had been an exclusive couple for two years before that, yet I never had a clue she was bisexual. She had never looked twice at another woman that I ever saw and never gave me any hints in any conversation we ever had. I thought -- apparently way wrong -- that I knew her inside and out, and we were going to grow old together someday.
But the fact that she was bisexual wasn't even a blip on the radar to the anger I was feeling about her apparently cheating on me. Another man, a woman ... it didn't make any difference ... she was giving her love away to somebody else ... and that's not what we had promised each other all those years ago when she accepted my ring. Forever was ... forever. It was supposed to be timeless. Who knew that some forevers had an expiration date?
I paid my bill, got in my car, and drove home slowly. I had a lot to figure out.
Traci wasn't expecting me to be home for another day from my sales trip for work, but I had gotten lucky and was able to see a couple of tough calls early. So I was heading home on a Friday evening rather than Saturday afternoon as was the original plan. I had been gone since Monday morning, and not only did I miss Traci and the kids, but it was not usual for Traci and me to go more than three days in a row without sex, so I was feeling some pent-up energy that needed to be released ... at least until I saw what happened at the restaurant.
I was an hour outside of our hometown and I easily could have just driven straight through, but since I was ahead of schedule, I was just going to grab supper at the restaurant to take a break from windshield eyes. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Our kids are 12 and 10, so they were old enough to be left alone for an evening if Traci wanted to go out, so I had no problem with that. I wondered, however, if they knew what was going on because neither of them had ever said anything to me about Traci doing anything different. Maybe they were just as much in the dark as I was, I wondered. Either way, I knew they weren't going to be happy with what was coming next.
Yeah, I did the usual introspection bit on the ride home: what had I done wrong, how long had this been going on, etc. At least I didn't have to worry about her lover having a bigger dick than me, I chuckled to myself. Gallows humor.
I walked in the door at 9, and Traci still wasn't home yet. Lisa, the 12-year-old, and Ariel, the 10-year-old, gave me a big, happy greeting, and I watched for but didn't see them being nervous or hesitant about me being home early. Such was not the case for Traci when she walked in about two hours later. She obviously had seen my car in the garage and done some straightening up, because I noticed there was about a two-minute lag from when the garage door went up until Traci appeared in the kitchen, not looking quite as happy as she had the last time I saw her.
"What are you doing here today? I thought the trip wasn't over until Saturday?" she asked me first thing with a slightly worried look on her face.
"Well, I'm happy to see you, too," I said, making a big deal out of her greeting.
"Well, had I known you were coming home early, I would have fixed us a nice meal," she continued as I watched the vein in her forehead twitch slightly. "I ordered in a pizza for the kids, and Kate and I just grabbed a vino and a sandwich downtown. You remember Kate, from my office, I've told you about her before?"
She didn't quite look me in the eyes as she lied to my face.
"Oh yeah, you've talked about her before. Blonde, big boobs, has a string of guys falling all over her."
"The very same," Traci said. "I swear that woman could get a football team hard just by walking in the room."
"And get a married woman how wet?" I wondered to myself.
Kate was a looker and had the boobs of a goddess. She was about 26 and started working at the insurance company where Traci worked last year. The two had become instant friends, and obviously, somewhere down the line ...
At 39, Traci could still turn more than a few heads. She was also a blonde, with a nice rack and curves in all the right places. She was only about 10 pounds heavier than when we first met, and it was still a great package. And at least until recently, it had been my package exclusively.
Despite the troubled look on her face, Traci played it cool. For my part, I was barely hanging on to cool, so I just told her I was tired and was heading for bed. She gave me a very quick peck on the lips as I walked past her and headed up the stairs. I may have been mistaken, but I was pretty sure I tasted pussy on her lips.
I went to bed, but I didn't sleep. The kids had gone to bed before me, so when I heard quiet talking a few minutes later, I knew Traci was talking to Kate on her phone. It was a short conversation, and a few minutes later I heard Traci climb into the shower in our master bath --another first. Either I had spooked her enough that she was off her game and wasn't being quite as careful as she had been, or she thought I was asleep and wouldn't know it. My heart sank even lower.
Between kid stuff and home chores, I didn't have to interact too much with Traci for the rest of the weekend. She wanted to go out for dinner as a family on Saturday night, but I said I wasn't in the mood and just walked out of the room, effectively ending that conversation. She had to know something was up because it's rare for me to be rude to her.
Monday morning at work I asked my boss for some time off that afternoon for some personal problems I was having. John had gotten divorced about 10 years ago and remarried about five years ago, so he at least had a clue that something was not right in the Mason household. Considering how well my sales trip had gone last week, he didn't even flinch when I asked for the time off, but as I was getting ready to leave his office, he handed me a business card. It was the card for his divorce attorney.
"I'm sorry, Ron. I always thought you and Traci were a good match and were going to go the limit," he said.
"Yeah, me, too," I responded. "I appreciate the thought."
With my boss as a reference, I got in to see the attorney in two days. Although she could have been much more business-like since she's probably done this several hundred times, she was very solicitous of my feelings and gently led me along. She was surprised when I said I didn't want to hire a private eye to get solid evidence of Traci cheating.
"I saw the light in her eyes," I told the attorney. "Besides, since this is a no-fault state, there doesn't seem to be much reason. The only real advantage it might gain me is if she is going to be a hard-ass about visiting the girls, but I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen."
Despite how hard I tried, I just didn't have any spirit around Traci and the girls when I was home. Traci apparently figured it out, I guess because we didn't talk much. I think the girls knew something was going on by how quiet we were. I gave Traci every opportunity to talk, but she never took it.
The shit hit the fan when Traci was served at work the following week. Call it petty on my part if you will, but I wanted Traci to experience a small fraction of the pain I had been feeling. I'm guessing she was served at 11:03 in the morning, because at 11:05 my phone started blowing up. I ignored all 15 calls from her, then I ignored a few from phones I didn't recognize, figuring she was trying to reach me by borrowing a friend's phone. Amazingly, I felt energized for the first time since I caught her and Kate, and I had a really good afternoon selling on the road.
Traci's car was already in its place in the garage when I pulled in at 5:30. She made her presence known rather quickly.
"You lowlife bastard! You don't even have the balls to confront me face-to-face, but you have me served in front of my friends and co-workers," Traci screamed at me as soon as I shut down my car's engine.
I didn't say a word until I got into the house and put my stuff down. The girls were in the family room, judging by the sounds coming out of the big screen.
"I thought I was being very considerate. I wanted to make sure you were served with your lover around so she could comfort you," I calmly said.
"You know about Kate? But how could you? H-h-how? We were so careful."
"Not careful enough, apparently," I responded. "Just tell me two things: how long, and when were you going to tell me?"
"Uhh ... six months maybe," she squeaked out. "We were going to tell you soon, soon."
Traci's attitude had shifted from venomous to gut-punched in under 30 seconds. She staggered over to the kitchen table and sat in a chair.
I walked over to my liquor cabinet above the fridge and grabbed my bottle of Buffalo Trace bourbon. I poured myself a double and sat in the chair opposite hers.
If looks could kill, she would have died within the first two seconds as I glared at her. For her part, she couldn't lift her eyes from the table.
"How did I not know you were bisexual after all this time?" I said quietly.
"Because I didn't know myself until recently," she responded. "I just sort of found out little by little. I swear to you, this wasn't planned. It just happened."
She finally looked up at me and held my gaze.
"This doesn't have to change anything for us, Ronnie. I still love you as much as ever. It's just that there's this other side of me that I need to explore. If you love me as much as you always tell me you do, you would be supportive and give me more time to explore this," Traci said.
It was my turn to be quiet. Shit, I was in shock.
"You mean six months wasn't enough of an exploration, Magellan?" I snarked. "If you really loved me, you would have remembered our vows and not have explored at all. I thought being faithful had nothing to do with gender."
"But what if this doesn't work out for me?" she whined. "Then I wouldn't have her or you."
"Perhaps you should have thought about this before your first voyage. Why the fuck would I willingly be your back-up plan?"
"Because you love me, remember. Love -- real love -- should be about forgiveness for a mistake," she said.
"One time is a mistake, Traci. Six months is a conscious decision! What world are you living in?
"And yes, I do love you. That just doesn't go away overnight, unfortunately. But my loving you doesn't give you a blank check to rip my heart out ... and destroy our family."
"Wait, this has nothing do with the girls ..."
"You self-absorbed bitch!" I shouted. This has everything to do with the girls. They will be having their whole life ripped up because you decided you need to explore."
"Well, I never thought you'd be such as whine-ass about this!" she yelled back at me.
"No, you never thought I'd catch you so you would be able to take your time and figure out what your plan was going to be. You've turned into a piece of shit right before my eyes!
"And no, Traci, you don't love me as much as ever. I've seen you look at her. You love her like you used to love me, body, and soul. It's easy to see. You might still love me, but it's clear to me that I've been bumped down to second place. You might love me, but you're not in love with me, not anymore. You are, however, very much in love with her."
"That's not true, Ronnie. I ..."
"Stop, Traci!" I yelled at her. "I'm not stupid, and I know what I saw. I know you better than any other living person, and I know what I was looking at."
She had the good grace to look guilty. Then a light bulb went on.
"You saw us together? Oh my God!"
"Exactly."
"But, Ronnie, this doesn't have to be the end of us," she said hurriedly. "It's not like there's another man involved. It's completely different."
"No, it's not completely different! You love someone else in my place. That's the bottom line. And maybe it would be different if it were another man. At least then I'd be able to punch your lover square in the chops," I said.
"Can we at least be civil about this?" she asked.
"Honestly, I don't know," I answered quietly. "She may be a beautiful young woman, but she's still your lover, and she stole my wife. The grisly facts don't change because you decided to fall for a woman."
I found out a few months later the kids knew nothing about Traci's affair. They thought "Aunt Kate" was just a close friend of Mom's. They had both seen the occasional quick kiss and gentle touch, but since Aunt Kate wasn't a man, they didn't think there was anything out of place.
I found that out one night when the kids and I went out for dinner and the kids mentioned that Kate was spending more time over at the house since I moved out. They seemed to have figured out on their own that Aunt Kate was part of the reason that Traci and I were getting a divorce.
Since we live in a no-fault state, our finances were pretty much split down the middle. I only had to pay a little bit of alimony, but she got the house until the kids were in college, and of course I had to pay child support. I moved into an apartment about 15 minutes away from my former home.
Traci and I stayed in contact through the girls. They were involved in all sorts of activities both in school and out of school, and both Traci and I went out of our way to show them we were going to support them to the maximum.
I'm not sure why, but Traci fought the divorce hard, and it dragged out for a year before we finally got it done.
I was courteous, nothing more, when I encountered Traci and Kate at my daughters' functions. As far as family functions, I was always invited, but knowing that Traci was going to be there, I would give my apologies and beg off. I know I was giving up on some great family memories, but it took everything I had to maintain my composure when she and Kate were around. I would do a solo day for the kids to give them their birthday and Christmas gifts.
As could be expected, we each kept our respective friends that we had before we were married. Virtually all of the friends we gained since marriage stayed with Traci. As one of the husbands explained to me, many of them felt uncomfortable around me considering I had lost my wife to a woman. The consensus seemed to be that I somehow deserved it, and several of the women among our married friends just about made that exact statement. I let them go away without a fight because, as the old saying goes, you find out who your true friends are under adverse conditions.
By my own choice, I didn't date much in the next few years. My heart certainly wasn't into it, and I didn't need much in the way of companionship. When I got lonely after a year on my own, I went to the local animal shelter and got myself a small German Shepherd mix who was probably about 3 years old. I actually went into the shelter and asked them to show me the three dogs who had been there the longest. The one I picked had been there since he was a frisky puppy, but after being repeatedly rejected, he had turned into a quiet, reclusive animal with the saddest pair of eyes I had ever seen on an animal. I felt we were kindred spirits, both of us having been rejected.
The dog's name was Bob. Not some cutesy animal name, or something named after a cute Disney character. Just Bob. Bob got me, and I got Bob. The first thing he did when I brought him back to my apartment after nosing around the place, was to climb up on the sofa next to me and curl into my side.
He got along well with the girls when I had them on my weekends, but I think Bob liked it best when it was just us guys. He loved to go for walks or drives with me, and we could talk on almost any subject. Admittedly, Bob was mostly quiet during these talks, but with that face and those ears, I knew he was paying attention to everything I said.
Several years later, my oldest daughter, Lisa, met some guy at college from Boston and got married. As I was doing pretty well for myself in my career as an engineer1`67t, I could afford to give her the wedding of her dreams. I couldn't have been prouder of her as I walked her down the aisle, but I did earn an admonishment from her after the service for screwing up my one and only line. I got it right at the rehearsal, but under the pressure of the real thing, my voice cracked, and when I recovered I answered the question of who gives this woman to be married with an "I do," instead of the correct line of "her mother and I do." Hey, I was choked up. So sue me.
When I got to my seat in the front row, a chair away from Traci, she leaned over to me and said quietly, "That was total bullshit, and you know it."
Then Kate leaned forward around from the far side of Traci and actually had the nerve to glower at me. I've got to admit, it was a good scowl.
"Fuck you, bitch," I mouthed at her after I took a look to see if the pastor was looking our way.
Wedding ceremonies always bring back memories for me, and at first, I fondly recalled my wedding day. That memory lasted about 30 seconds before I flashed on the mental picture of Traci and Kate together in the restaurant when I found out about them. When I snapped out of my reverie, Traci was looking at me sadly; she blushed crimson and quickly looked away. I guess I wasn't the only one strolling down memory lane.
Although I wasn't trying to watch, I noticed that Traci and Kate appeared to be having a great time, along with Lisa and her new husband, Jerry, and just about everyone else. That's when I noticed that I was one of the few single people over the age of 50 in the hall. I started to feel sorry for myself, so I walked over to the open bar being paid for by Jerry's parents and got a shot of 18-year-old Irish whiskey. I took my drink, sat down at my table, and quietly patted myself on the back for throwing such a great event.
Three years later I was going to play father of the bride again as my youngest, Ariel, got her beau to take her to the altar. This time I resolved not to go solo, so I knew I finally had to get off my ass and make a concerted effort at dating.
Three weeks later I was coming home from a three-day trip out of state and stopped at a small honky-tonk type of bar/restaurant about an hour from my apartment. I normally stay away from bars of this type because I loathe country/western music, but they were advertising pulled pork barbecue, so I just had to stop.
The food was great and there was a decent crowd as the DJ started playing music at about 8 p.m. I had been looking around just on the off chance there might be someone worth interfacing with, so to speak. Just then a 30-ish looking black woman with the face of an angel walked in the door by herself. I mean, she was flat-out gorgeous, but I had to wonder why an unattached young black woman was in a honky-tonk. Then again, what was an unattached older white guy doing in a honky-tonk, too?
I knew she was probably too young for me, but what the hell, I motioned for the bartender to put whatever she was drinking on my tab. He told her that her drink was paid for and gestured in my direction, and she sashayed her way over to my table to thank me. I invited her to sit, and to my surprise, she sat down with me and introduced herself as Jade.
We were having a good evening going when she asked me if I'd like to go back to her place. Hell yeah, I was surprised, but hey, you never turn down that kind of invitation from a gorgeous, clean-looking woman. So we're almost at the door when this goober with a cowboy hat walks over to Jade and gives her a little kiss on the side of her cheek. I came to an abrupt stop.
"It's OK, Ron. This is my husband, Fred. He's just coming along to watch. I hope you don't mind," she said.
Fred gave me a gap-toothed grin.
"It's OK, Dude. We're into this," he sort of guffawed at me.
"Not OK with me, Dude," I snarled back. "Damn, this generation is so fucked up."
I held up my hands in a stop gesture to both of them, then walked out to my car alone.
My next attempt at finding a woman came through my church. Carrie and I hit it off pretty well and went out on several dates. She was a 50-year-old divorcee with long black hair, 34B boobs, long legs, and a big smile. I was starting to get a good feeling about this one, and on date number four we wound up back at my apartment and in my bed. On her third orgasm, she starts to talk as well, and on her fifth orgasm she yells in full throat, "Oh yeah, fuck yeah, Jim, Jim, Jim!"
Yup, Jim's the name of her ex-husband.
I stopped immediately. When she finally came down from her orgasm, she looked at me with real anger on her face.
"Why the fuck did you just stop?" she screamed at me.
"Because I'm not your fucking ex-husband, you stupid bitch!"
I drove her home in silence. Needless to say, there wasn't a fifth date.
For my next dating adventure, I asked out a fellow employee for an evening of food and dancing. Allison Webb was a 42-year-old divorcee, having split with her husband of 17 years almost five years ago. She was a vivacious blonde who had a little bigger chest and ass than someone of average proportions, and we had been friends at work for about 10 years. By this point, she had heard my tale of woe, and I had heard hers.
We had a great evening out, and that turned into several great evenings. We enjoyed each other's company tremendously, and that was even before we had sex for the first time. I knew we'd have a great time at the wedding, so I asked if she would be my date.
"You want me to be your date at your daughter's wedding? The family, the ex-wife. I'm not sure I'm up to that," Allison said in earnest.
"Well, that's assuming you get the green light from Bob first," I added.
"Who's Bob?" she asked, looking puzzled.
"Bob's my wingman," I responded. "My best friend in the whole world. A 45-pound German Shepherd mix with very discerning taste. If he doesn't like you, escorting me to the wedding is off."
"You are a strange man, Ron," she responded.
Allison passed Bob's inspection the next week, and agreed to be my date for the wedding. The girls seemed very pleased that I wouldn't be a solo for this occasion. For some reason, Traci seemed to have a problem with it, giving me a "face" about every other time she looked at me. Since I hardly talked to her, I didn't give a shit what she thought, but it did bother Allison, who picked up on Traci's dislike for her immediately.
"What's your problem, Traci?" I finally asked her as I caught her alone during the rehearsal dinner.
"Do you really have to ask, Bob? Are you dating Girl Scouts? What's next, Brownies? Sperm?"
Whoa. Jealousy certainly didn't look good on Traci.
"Actually, Traci, Allison is the same age as Kate. I haven't forgotten that you traded me in for a younger, female version."
At least Traci had the good grace to look sheepish.
A year later Allison became my second wife, and life continued on.
To tell you the truth, I had forgotten I was on the bone marrow registry when I got the phone call one day at work that after 30 years, I was a match for someone. I have to admit that I was thrilled to be able to help save someone's life. I knew the marrow extraction would be somewhat uncomfortable, but I've always had this hero complex, and I was more than willing to put up with the procedure. There was some additional testing to be done, and if that was good, then the extraction was to be scheduled for two weeks after that. I gave my OK and told them I was on board.
I'm not an overly religious person, but I do believe in God, and there is an old saying that God works in mysterious ways. I never gave that much thought until four days later, when I was talking to my oldest, Lisa, on the phone in our weekly call. She and Ariel and I don't talk about their mother, Traci, and her life, but for some reason Lisa mentioned that a marrow match had been found for Aunt Kate, and that she and Traci were very enthusiastic. I mentioned to Lisa that I didn't know anything was wrong with Kate, and she filled me in on the details of Kate's year-long battle with leukemia. I told my daughter to give my best wishes to Kate and Traci, because even though I would never get over what they had done to me, I didn't wish them ill will.
"You know, Dad, you're a grown man. You can call them and tell them yourself," Lisa admonished.
"You're right, Baby, but the less I speak to them the less chance I will say something nasty that I might or might not regret later," I answered truthfully.
"Dad, you've been divorced for 16 years. Get over it finally," she said. "You've been married to Allison for almost two years. You keep telling me you're happy."
"I am happy, Baby, but the pain from your mother's betrayal will never go away. I don't hate her anymore, but she's not exactly in my friends list on Facebook.
"Tell you what. I'll send over some flowers with a card of good wishes. Does that sound OK to you?"
"That would at least be the right thing to do," she said.
I didn't give it another thought until I called a local florist and had a bouquet of flowers and a get-well card sent over. As I was giving the florist my card numbers, the thought suddenly hit me: bone marrow matches are kind of rare, and my being a match and Kate finding a match almost at the same time seemed way too coincidental.
The donation process is all about anonymity, so I knew I wasn't going to get a straight answer from the marrow registry people ... unless of course I was really sneaky. So I called my registry contact, sounding super optimistic, and asked her how rare was it that my match and I lived in the same city. She stammered, she stuttered, then she asked me how I knew who my match was. So I lied, sort of.
"People talk, and we share kids, sort of," I responded.
"This is a first," she admitted.
"Mmm ... hmmm," I mumbled as my brain started doing flip-flops. The fuck I was going to give that bitch bone marrow. She steals my wife, neither one of them ever says howdy-do, kiss my ass, nothing and I'm going to save her life by donating marrow to her. Not happening.
Two days later, I called my registry contact back and told her I was declining to do the donation. She about came unglued, and when she recovered her brains, she asked me if there was a specific reason as to why I backed out. She explained that while I within my rights to back out, it was hardly ever done, and this would cause "a lot of consternation" at the registry. I apologized for causing "consternation," but I told her it was in my own best interests that I back out. She stuttered her regrets, and told me that if I changed my mind in the very near future I should give her a call.
Allison was livid when I told her I backed out of the donation. I hadn't told her that I had found out who the donation was supposed to be going to. She just knew that I backed out of a commitment to possibly save somebody's life.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" my wife of two years practically screamed at me. "You know you want to do this, yet now that it's here, you want to fuck with somebody's life."
That was the first time I'd ever heard Allison drop the F-bomb; I knew she was nuclear mad. I figured I'd better level with her. She wasn't impressed with my reasoning.
"You would actually deny that woman a chance at life to get revenge? Please tell me that's not so!" she yelled at me.
"It's not revenge, actually," I said. "I wouldn't give either her or my ex-wife the fucking time of day if I had a watch and they didn't. They both fucked me over, and I have tried to have as little as possible to do with them. Why should I change now, just because Kate's dying. I'm the injured party here, and I'm just being consistent, if nothing else."
"So neither of them know the match was you?" Allison queried.
"Everything's done anonymously. I only found out because of a fluke."
Allison's face softened. "Ronnie, you can't back out on this. You hold this woman's life in your hands. It would be wrong if you could help but didn't," she practically whispered. "You're too nice of a guy to do this. You know sooner or later the guilt will chew you up."
"No, Allie. I don't think I'll have any guilt. Kate crushed my heart, and Traci went along with it. Besides, they'll never know that it's me."
"But Ronnie, they had such hope, and now you've probably totally destroyed them."
Allison and I sniped at each other for several more days, and we seemed to be drifting farther apart as a couple. We had never disagreed on anything as violently as this.
"Where is your Christian charity, Ronnie?" she asked me at one point.
"So if a beggar comes to me and asks me for money to buy bullets to shoot me, I'm just blindly supposed to dig in my pocket," I responded.
"Now you're just being ridiculous!" she yelled at me.
"They didn't rip your heart out and turn your world upside down. So now I'm supposed to just shrug that off and help them?"
"It's been 17 years now! Traci's been married to Kate longer than she was to you! Get over it!"
"They made their decision," I responded quietly. "They can live ... or not ... as the case may be, with that decision."
I walked out of the room.
A few days later, on a Saturday afternoon, I told Allison I was going over to the shooting range to blow off some steam.
"Make sure you're back well before supper. The girls are coming over, and I don't want you to smell like gunpowder, so you'll need to shower before we eat," she said to me.
I blew the living shit out of a target, firing off 500 rounds with my Sig 9mm. I can't explain why, but shooting always relaxes me. I think it's because you have to really concentrate on what you are doing, and when you stop concentrating as hard your body goes into a relaxed mode. At least that's my thought, and I'm sticking with it.
I most definitely smelled like gunpowder when I got home, so I quickly headed for the shower when I got home. I peeked at the dining room table, and there were six places set, and from the smell, Allison was making a roast. She is an excellent cook, and I was hoping she was making those little brown potatoes instead of mashed.
Once clean again, I poured myself a shot of rye and got Allie a glass of wine. She seemed a little on edge, and I attributed that to her wanting the meal to turn out perfect for the girls and their husbands. I gave her a peck on the lips.
I was sitting in the living room reading on my computer when the door opened and the girls walked in -- not followed by their husbands but by Traci and a bedraggled-looking Kate. I wasn't pleased to see either of them, and I gave Allison a glare as I got up to greet everyone. I kissed both of the girls but said nothing to my ex and Kate. I noted they greeted Allison with what could be called enthusiasm. There seemed to be a lot of whispering going on.
Not having been born yesterday, I knew immediately that Allison had set up this little intervention. I was more inclined to think of it as an ambush since I was apparently the only one who didn't have knowledge of the meeting. I considered just picking up and leaving, but then I figured it was time for me to make my stand. First, however, I had to endure the pretext that this was just a nice meal among family and friends. Kate's illness was the major topic of conversation around the table, although I didn't participate, sitting with what I considered a contemplative look on my face.
I suppose dinner and dessert were good; I really couldn't tell. Being a good host, I got after-dinner drinks for everyone and we moved to the living room. It was quiet for a moment, so I figured this was as good as any time to get the shitshow started.
"So who's going to talk first -- the woman who broke my trust to set this meeting up or the woman who ripped my heart out years ago but now thinks I should do her a favor? Or maybe we should hear from the woman who stole a married woman from an unsuspecting loving husband, but now, in the most cruel twist of all, needs that cuckold for a chance at life?"
I looked from face to face as I made my statement. None of the women could return my look. Allison looked extremely nervous when I called her out.
It was left to my oldest daughter, Lisa, to start. Since I didn't mention either daughter, maybe they figured I would cut them the most slack.
"Look, Dad, we all understand you're still mad at Mom and Aunt Kate, but to back out of the marrow donation is childish, petty and way beneath you," she said. "You're going to get your big revenge by not helping someone live ... that's just shitty.
"This is a person's life we're talking about, Dad, not slamming someone in the face with a whipped cream pie. A person's life ... for revenge?"
I took a sip of rye, then cleared my throat. I gave a tiny shake of my head.
"Did any of you for one second even look at this from my standpoint?" I started. "Every action in life has consequences. Now I know Traci and Kate never expected those consequences to be so severe, but that is their problem, which they are trying now to make my problem. Who knew that someday I would have a real chance to impact the life of someone who did me way wrong?
"You all think this is about revenge, and maybe me getting a little of my self-respect back. After all, how much self-respect could I have if I helped the person who stole my wife live?
"And I don't think any of you is even considering the fact that you think I should take it easier on Kate because she is a woman. If her name was Karl and he was a 6-2, 200-pound man, most of you would probably think I was right in what I'm doing. But it makes no difference to me that Kate is a woman ... she is a wife-stealing bitch. She knew what she was doing was wrong."
Kate was trying to drill a hole in the carpet with her eyes. Sitting next to her on our sofa, Traci reached over and squeezed Kate's hand.
"It's not revenge ... it's hatred. I hate her, and while I don't wish her any harm, I'm not going to help her in any way out of any situation. If you haven't been paying attention, I have hardly talked to her in the 17 years or so she has been with Traci."
Traci was sniffling now, holding back tears. "Do you really hate me that much that you could deny another person a chance at life? If you ever loved me at all as much as you say you did, couldn't you see fit to do the honorable thing?"
"The honorable thing ... that's a good one, coming from you," I spat. "I loved you every bit as much as I said I did, but hate is just a short stride away from love, especially love scorned. You don't get to tell me what the honorable thing is."
My volume level had risen, and I was trying my best not to tell them all—including Allison— to get fucked and leave me alone. I took a couple of deep breaths, and Allison apparently figured I wasn't mad enough at her.
"Ronnie, you're a good man. You always do the right thing," she said softly. "You know backing out is wrong. You'll never be able to live with yourself if you do this."
"Come on, Dad. You've taught both Ariel and me to always do the right thing, even if it feels wrong," Lisa interjected.
"This is the right thing, Baby. It is for me. I won't have any regrets about this ... won't lose a minute of sleep."
"Please, PLEASE!" Kate suddenly voiced. "I know I wronged you badly, but I don't want to die, and the doctors say my chances are poor if you don't donate marrow. They might be poor even if you do donate."
Kate's eyes look haunted. Asking me to help save her life had to be the toughest thing she had ever done.
I looked deep into those haunted eyes. I took no joy from reaffirming my decision, but reaffirm it I did.
"No," was all I said. I didn't utter the phrase, "I'm sorry," because truthfully, I wasn't sorry. I would do nothing in my power to help this woman.
Kate took my response better than Traci, who dissolved in tears. Allison went over to the pair to comfort them, and I heard her whisper, "I'll try. I'll talk to him."
So caught up in the moment was she that Allison never realized that she had placed our marriage in danger. I would have to think long and hard about whether I could overcome the break in our trust.
I grabbed my car keys from the keyring where they resided. I went out the door while five women sobbed. I didn't return again for three days. I hadn't answered any of the dozens of cellphone calls from Allison or the kids. The house was dark. I took a quick look around and figured that Allison was staying somewhere else for a while. There was a suitcase and some clothes missing, but most everything else was left intact. I also grabbed a suitcase and did some packing, taking with me most of my clothes and much of my stuff. I left my wedding ring in the middle of the kitchen table.
At work three days later, I got a phone call from someone who wouldn't tell our receptionist her name. I figured it was Allison getting me to take her call, and I was correct.
"Really? You're telling me we're through because I tried to get you to not be the biggest asshole in the world. I can't believe I married a man who could let someone die to get revenge. You absolutely suck."
"Well, I can't believe a married a woman who would violate my trust so completely, but you know what, we can both get remedied for that," I responded. "And, if anybody's getting revenge, it's not me. It's God. Remember the old biblical saying, 'Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord?' What better vengeance than to give a potential life-saving cure to the person who most hates the afflicted?"
"You really suck; you know that?"
Kate died two months after the divorce was official. I caught the obituary in our local newspaper. I didn't follow her case, and no one kept me informed. In fact, neither of my daughters has talked to me since the ambush. I love my kids, but you have to stand up for what you believe in, and neither I nor my girls were backing down over my stance on not helping Kate.
My decision was the right one for me. I never lost a minute's sleep over not giving Kate my marrow. The people at the marrow registry weren't very understanding of my individual situation, and took me off the list completely. That was fine with me, because the probability of my getting a second match was highly unlikely.
Bob was getting long in the tooth and was a bit crotchety, not exactly being thrilled with any of the women I had brought home in the last year or so. But that was OK because at 62 I wasn't really looking for wife No. 3. Somewhat surprisingly, I was still getting my share of good sex. I learned that at this age, eligible women outnumbered eligible men by about 4 to 1, and if her health was good, there was a good chance that my date for an evening was up for a roll in the hay. At this age, the women were confident in their abilities, as long as one of us remembered to bring some lubricant. Sure, we couldn't romp with the exuberance of youth, after all, neither of us wanted to break a hip, but more often than not both of us enjoyed a nice roll in the hay. I jokingly called my ladies my Sexy Senior Singles.
I hadn't spoken to any of my family in over four years when my youngest, Ariel called out of the blue to tell me Traci had died a few days earlier. She thought I should know and invited me to the funeral. We did have 15 good years together and had two children, so I figured at the least I should show up. Maybe I could mend fences with the girls.
I sat in the back by myself. It was a good service. After the burial, I approached the girls and their families. I got tentative hugs from the girls, solid handshakes from their husbands and shy hellos from my three grandchildren. We went to a near-by restaurant to talk.
It took about three minutes before the first salvo was fired. It came from Lisa.
"So tell me again why you let Aunt Kate die," she said out of nowhere.
"I see nothing's changed then," I responded. "Four years and we're back to that wife-stealing bitch.
"All right. For the last time ... and I do mean the last time."
"Jerry, see that handsome young guy over by the bar," I said, gesturing with my head in the general direction of a 20-something, blond-haired, blue-eyed hunk. "What if he came over here and laid a big, wet kiss on Lisa? What would you do?"
"I'd punch his lights out!" he declared.
"Right! Now, what would you do if you caught him having an affair with Lisa?"
"Easy. Dead man."
"Right again. But since he'd be dead, you wouldn't have to worry about donating bone marrow if he got sick, would you?"
"No, I guess not."
"Exactly my point," I said. "I didn't kill Kate, in part because she was a woman. My mistake, I suppose. But I still shouldn't have to save the life of someone who was having an affair with my wife. Or who completely stole her away. Should I?"
"No, you shouldn't," Jerry said as the light went on above his head. He slowly looked around the room, peering at each face. Little by little, the light of recognition came on in each pair of eyes.
"I'm not proud of my decision, but neither am I ashamed of it," I said quietly. "That bitch stole the love of my life, and didn't deserve my compassion."
"But if you ever loved Mom, how could you?" Ariel asked.
"I loved your mother with every fiber of my being, and when she broke my heart ... well, most of that love turned into hate. I'm sorry. I'm human. But I'm not the monster she had you believe I was. Just human. It just didn't turn out very well for your mother."
The other four adults in the room had tears in their eyes. The children looked confused and concerned.
"I get that this is going to take time ... for all of us. How about we take this one day at a time?"
