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  • A Simple Case of Infidelity Pt. 04

A Simple Case of Infidelity Pt. 04

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Summarizing what's already occurred:

It was Thursday morning. My soon to be ex-wife Leslie Campbell had only been back a handful of days. I thought, 'So far so good.'

I hadn't seen hide nor hair of her. Thank goodness my mom and dad hadn't bothered me about her, and neither had my children. They all knew how I felt. Sure I still loved her, I guess; I suppose I probably always would, but that no longer meant anything. She'd crossed the line; hell, she'd crossed a couple lines, no, several of them. Twenty-two years, two kids, all the usual stuff; what was I supposed to do, welcome her back with open arms? Couldn't, no couldn't do that - never.

It'd been like...well there were, or are, or have been two Leslie's. There was the Leslie I met, fell in love with, married and raised a family with, but then there was the other one, the one I didn't know, the one I couldn't understand, didn't want to understand.

Sure we'd had some pretty good, no great years; she'd been good for me, but I'd been good for her too. Man, that family of hers; that father, her mother, what a couple of fucked up people. Hell, there were hardly any relatives, none on his side, none that I'd met and Leslie never mentioned any, just him, him and his 'fabled' name. And what a selfish unfeeling prick he was, no emotion, no sentiment, just business.

Then there was 'what's his name', good old Richard Weatherby. From out of nowhere he showed up, her old college boyfriend, and she couldn't wait to hop in the sack. I remember Leslie mentioned him once or twice; some kind of financial whiz kid, rich, handsome, she said charismatic. I never thought.

Well I'd caught her; I caught her red handed. What did she do? She tried to get me to believe I hadn't seen what I saw. Tell the truth, I loved her so much I was just about ready to go along with it. Then what; she pulled her second little trick, she decided to leave to go home to be with mother and father.

Yeah sure, smart; after a few weeks of me almost willing to deny what I saw and take her back she packed up a suitcase and trundled her deceitful ass back to Baltimore. I guess she thought I'd get lonely and knuckle under. Know what? She was almost right. I did knuckle under; I packed an overnight bag and drove down to Baltimore to bring her back. What a fool I was.

I got down to Baltimore and caught her all cuddly and lovey with her Mr. Weatherby. Well I got pictures, and I went back home. Then she came back, and she had some 'phony' pictures of her own, pictures I later found out my kids had stupidly set up. Talk about loyalty. I was through, done, finished, I threw her ass out. I didn't actually 'throw her out'; I told her to leave. She did too.

The minx stayed away for six months; six months of me here and her there. I waited, I procrastinated; God knows what for? I guess I should have gone for separation and divorce from the start; not me, like the fool that I was I hemmed and hawed. I let things drag out. Stupid me, huh. Then when I finally got my ass together, got my act in gear she came crawling back.

What, did she think; that she could come back, and after six months, a dozen lies and god knows how many months of infidelity I was supposed to pretend everything was all right? Sure, my mom and dad and my kids have all been on her side, but I'm not, I'm on my side.

~~v~~

Morning at work:

I pulled my Jeep into my customary space just outside our Swallow Falls office, thinking the pressure was low I check my right rear tire. It was OK. Damn them, damn them all. I didn't need anybody. I've got my job, two dogs, and the whole quiet countryside to move around in. I grabbed my old campaign hat, adjusted the creases, threw my jacket over my shoulder and sidled on in to the office. My supervisor, Woodrow Patch was at his desk; he'd probably been in the office since before sunup. I saw he'd already made some coffee and looked through the 'paper', "the Cumberland Times".

I poured myself some coffee and walked on over to his desk and picked up the paper, "You mind?"

Woodrow looked up at me over his spectacles, "No go ahead."

I took the paper and started for my desk further in the back. I figured I had maybe an hour to kill before I left to go out. Just as I was sitting down Woodrow looked up at me, "Hey Francis. I want you to look at something."

"Sure what,' I said.

"It's an application."

"Application? Do we need anybody?"

Woodrow had a paper in his hand, "Probably not, but I'm going to hire this one anyway. Here look it over."

I got up and reached across to get the application. It's no big deal to me. We've hired kids from the college all the time. They get to put in a few hours, earn a little money, build up a resume, and they get some experience working in the forest and around other people. Most always the kids were really nice; quite often they're kids I've had in my classes. I worked part-time at the college.

I took the application and held it up. It looked pretty good, but I'd need my readers to really go over it. As far as it goes I've always had excellent vision. By that I mean I've had superior visual acuity as it related to distance, but my ability to read the printed word has suffered. I guessed time had taken its toll; I'd come to rely on a pair of Walmart 'readers'.

I thought of Leslie. She wore glasses. Damn why did everything have to end up back with her? Leslie has had eye problems off and on ever since I could remember. She wore glasses when I met her. In her thirties, what seven eight years back she got that Lasik surgery. It was supposed to fix her near sightedness. It worked for a while, but after a couple years she was back with glasses again. Poor girl's always been horribly near sighted, not even the surgery helped much, and the progressive lenses gave her headaches so she ended up with bifocals. She was really self-conscious about those bifocals. I told her it was no big deal. The truth was I thought the glasses made her look sexy; I never told her that though, I figured it would've only made her more self-conscious.

As I returned to my seat I could see the neatness with which this applicant completed the form. I'm not anal, but I've always been a stickler for tidiness and accuracy on anything that required my name. I've always expected the same from others. I could see this applicant shared my view; without reading a thing I could see it was meticulous.

Already confident this young person would be a good match I picked up and put on my glasses. I glanced over the form; good schools, older female, married...then I had to laugh. Looking up at Woodrow I laughed again and said, "Hey, some joke."

Woodrow looked up from the Zane Grey he was reading, "No joke Francis."

"Come on Woodrow I can take a joke. How did she come by this?"

"She got it at the state office building up in Cumberland. She filled it out and brought it over yesterday after you left to go home. Whalen brought her."

I still couldn't believe it, "Oh come on, you're not..."

"I am."

I continued to stare at the paper, "You can't be serious."

"As serious as a coyote turd in the road."

I still wasn't sure. Woodrow's always been a tease, a real practical joker, "OK you got me. I get it. Where do I put this?" I started to drop it in the can.

"I mean it,' he said, "I'm hiring her."

I sat back. This had to be a joke, "What you're putting her over in New Germany?"

"No. She'll work here."

"Here?"

"Yeah here."

A joke was one thing. Even hiring the cow was something I could take; I mean if she was at the other end of the region. But here? I sat there. Then I said, "I can't work with her."

"Yes you can," was Woodrow's matter of fact reply.

"Let me put it another way then. I won't work with her."

Woodrow looked at me over his readers, "You will if you expect to work here."

That turned my stomach, "You threatening me?"

Woodrow leaned back in his chair, "No, not at all. What I'm saying is I'm bringing Leslie on here part-time."

I said, "Damn it Woodrow she's not qualified. She doesn't know the first thing about forestry, and why here, why with me, I mean us."

Woodrow answered, "First she's pretty well qualified; had a pretty good day to day teacher if you ask me. Second, she's experienced. You know yourself she's been out there," he pointed to the woods, "She knows her stuff almost as well as anybody."

I was getting a little heated, "Oh yeah? Well what about the exam?"

Woodrow knew I meant the civil service exam, he replied, "Doesn't need it. I've got the money for her from a state initiative set up by the governor. The initiative lets me hire anybody I want if they're a local, if they're indigent, and if they have a willingness to work."

I thought, 'Damn left wing socialistic bastards down in Annapolis always trying to find ways to piss away tax dollars on worthless programs.' I told him, "This is another one of those 'do nothing' state jobs our 'Communistic' friends down in Annapolis thought up isn't it?"

Woodrow replied, "Yeah like the same ones that got your kids summer and off season jobs year after year."

This was really fucked up, "I can't work with her. I'll have to transfer to another part of the state. Assateague is a pretty good spot."

Woodrow laughed, "You can transfer if you want. Hell, quit of you feel that strongly. But I'll tell you right up front about any transfer; you won't be going to no Assateague Island or anywhere on the lower Eastern Shore. You won't get Southern Maryland either."

I got up and walked to the window, "Yeah I know, the waiting list," I spun around, "Look I'll take what I can get."

Woodrow yawned, "Francis I want you to have what you want for yourself, but you've got to know if you leave here you'll never get back. After Assateague we've got the most people applying for transfer," he smiled, "But there's good news. They've got openings in Central Maryland; Patapsco and Gunpowder Parks. Plus, I hear the mayor of Baltimore is trying to reintroduce another 'catch and release' trout program like that old guy Schaefer tried once. It won't work, streams all too polluted, but I'm sure the state would be glad to loan a sharp cookie like you to the city. Hell you could help them out with their parks."

I scowled, but kept my mouth shut.

"Look at it this way Francis," continued Woodrow, "You could help them with their city parks and streams. They've got a raccoon problem and a robust rat extermination program. You could help clean up the trash. Might even find a body every now and then; you were in the 'Guard' you could handle that. Another thing; there's all those yuppies a drinking that so-called healthy spring water that comes bubbling up in those inner city parks. It's a wonder some of those folks haven't started to glow in the dark. You'll be able to keep them from killing themselves. You know healthying themselves to death."

I was fucked, "You're really hiring her."

"Yeah, guess so."

He had me. He knew I'd never leave home, "When she supposed to start?"

"Next week."

I was totally fucked. I knew it and so did Woodrow, "Why you hiring her Woodrow? You know how it is with me and her. Is it because...?"

Woodrow got up and stared me down, "It's not because I like her. It's not because of your dad...it's...you know why," with that he grabbed his hat and started for the door, "I'm going to town to get some Danish."

Woodrow wasn't hiring my soon to be ex-wife for my dad, or because she was qualified, or because he wanted to stiff me. This was payback. Leslie had, well Leslie had done something way back when. I remembered it. I knew I was stuck.

~~~.V.~~~

Clothes shopping for Leslie:

Friday, the same morning Woodrow had put Francis in his place Maggie, Mildred, Victoria, and Leslie had piled in the old K5 for a shopping trip to Cumberland.

As we trundled along with Maggie behind the wheel, Mildred riding shotgun, and me and Victoria in the back Maggie opened up, "First we'll hit Penny's. I checked their catalogue. They've got some pretty yellow blouses and brown skirts. They'll look good on you when you start work."

Mildred asked, "What she's not wearing a uniform?"

"No", Maggie replied, "she's not officially with the forestry. She's part of another kind of state program. "That right Leslie?"

I responded, "Yes ma'am."

Victoria softly laughed while she hooked her arm around my elbow, "Aren't we all the yes ma'am no ma'am." She leaned her head against my shoulder. I put my arm around hers. We sort of snuggled.

I still felt kind of itchy and queasy. Mildred and I had had a long 'talk' the night after we came back from Madigan's. I found out Mildred was no slouch. She knew some things. She'd seen my sewing kit.

Just then Mildred looked back at us, "Leslie how do you feel?"

"I feel all right. I'll be OK, a little itchy," This was my third day without my sewing kit. I didn't know how she did it, but Mildred had honed right in on it. As soon as we'd gotten back from Madigan's she'd started questioning me.

Victoria looked up at me and happily commented, "Impetigo mom?"

I took my right hand, grabbed the top of her head and shook it. I wanted to just crush her to me.

Mildred smiled, "Let me know if you get tense or anything. I've got some aspirin."

'Aspirin,' I thought, 'Aspirin, yes, Mildred knew more than she let on. For an 'old woman' she was smart. Plus she had me at a disadvantage, a big disadvantage. She's told me if I was to get any help from her, and that meant help from mom and dad too I'd have to tell her about my...special kit. She actually didn't outright tell me there'd be no help; she just made it clear I'd have to, as she said, pull my weight, and do it without any crutches.'

I showed her what I had. She knew about every drug. She knew about what they did, how they worked, and how addictive they were. She knew more than I did! She even knew about the Rohypnol! I had to tell her where each prescription had come from, who'd gotten it for me, what it was for, and how long I'd been using them. When our 'little talk' was over she took my sewing kit. All I got to keep was the Pro-Vigil. I tried to keep a few Xanax, but she took all of them tool. She flushed everything down the toilet.

I'd told her my problems. I explained the whole thing with the sewing kit had been from when I'd been in middle school, in high school, and later in college, but after I'd gotten married everything had been so wonderful I'd not gone back to them. Sure I'd stockpiled the stuff since Victoria's and my accident, but I hadn't used much of anything until just about a year ago. I didn't tell her about 'the year ago problems', and she didn't ask.

I looked from Mildred to My mom, "I'm kind of excited. I feel like a kid on her way to buy school supplies."

We spent the morning at Penny's going from department to department. I had three people walking the aisles picking out things for me to try on. I was careful not to get in the way. Everything, well almost everything they picked I liked. Victoria's taste was a little juvenile. I had to be careful. If I looked at or touched anything it was automatically carried along.

We used my mom's credit card. She told me Whalen had already taken care of me on that matter. She said he'd have my card for me before the weekend. I was fully insured, at least car insurance. My dad had called his agent and got me put on his, no problem he'd said. Health insurance; oh that was another matter. Didn't have any, probably never need it, I never got sick anyway.

I knew my dad's insurance agent. His youngest girl had been in Victoria's grade and in all her classes all the way through elementary and part of middle school. I'd been their class mother when they were in their primary grades. The insurance agent's girl was a sheepish little thing, not very pretty. I remember always holding her hand whenever we went on school trips. She'd sit with us on our spring picnics. I always packed extra food just for her. I remember how much she liked my deviled eggs.

I especially remembered her first day. Her mom brought her in a little late. She was petrified, but my girl, my Victoria went over to her, took her hand and walked her to her table. I remember hearing Victoria telling her that they'd be friends from then on. They had been friends up until the seventh grade. It was then the agent and his wife split up. Her mom had been... In the divorce the mom got custody and they moved away.

I recall not having a very good opinion of the little girl's mom. She wasn't a very good mother. In first and second grade the little girl rarely had her own lunch. Victoria told me she sometimes came with a jelly sandwich she'd made herself. Victoria started packing an extra-large lunch about then. We packed two sandwiches, an extra piece of fruit, and always two small bags of cookies.

When they got to third grade a new elementary had opened, and it had a cafeteria. I made sure Victoria always had a few extra coins so the agent's girl got something. I don't think the agent ever knew. I know I never told him, and I don't think Victoria did either. I know Victoria wanted to, but I explained how we were Christians and good Christians always tried to do good deeds anonymously.

I never liked that mother very much. Couldn't stand her actually. Turned out I was no better. I feel so ashamed.

We stopped at Ruby Tuesday's for lunch. I wanted a salad, but Maggie and Mildred made me buy a hamburger and French fries. Maggie said I was too skinny. I had lost some weight. Back before...I'd weighed close to 140 lbs. I was fat back then. I think I weighed about 110 lbs. now. I'm not Anorexic or anything; I just haven't had much of an appetite since...well.

In a way I'm kind of glad Mildred took my sewing kit. I still feel nervous and twitchy, but it's not as bad as it was Wednesday night. I threw a real tantrum Wednesday evening. Mildred just sat in the living room with her hands folded and listened. That just made me worse. When I finally ran out of gas Mildred called me over and wrapped her arms around me. Mildred has children, but they've all grown and moved away. I cried when she put me to bed. She stayed in my room all night while I cried. I feel pretty lucky; I've got mom and Mrs. Bielson. I know they're waiting for me to tell them what I did. I'm afraid about that. Maybe someday.

~~V~~

As we were walking out of Ruby Tuesday's Mildred asked how old Woodrow Patch had come to decide to give me a job. I told her I didn't know. That's when my daughter spoiled a secret.

Victoria was clinging to my arm. She looked at me, then at Mrs. Bielson and said, "I know."

I told her, "Be quiet Victoria."

Mildred said, "No I want to know."

I tried to head my daughter off, "There wasn't any reason really. I guess, I mean I'm pretty sure he was just being loyal to his old friend Whalen."

Victoria pinched me, "That's not it mom and you know it."

"Victoria," I hushed.

Mildred asked again, "Come on. Somebody's got to tell me something now."

Victoria pinched me again, "I'm telling her mom."

I said, "I wish you wouldn't."

Maggie said, "I'd like to know too."

I sighed.

As we climbed in the car Victoria started to run her mouth, "It was in October, almost Halloween back when I was in the seventh grade. I needed some cloth for a costume, and the only place that had what we wanted was the JoAnn Fabrics over in West Virginia. Mom drove me over to look at the swatches. Because she said I was old enough to sew my own costume I had to do it all myself. Well we'd bought the material; some red stuff because I was going to be a cardinal. How about it? Me a big red bird."

I told her, "Don't drag this out honey. It wasn't that big a deal."

"It was a big deal mom, and you know it," she went on, "we were coming back when I spotted Carolyn Wetzel by the side of the road. There was a bunch of boys with her; it looked like they were trying to pull her in the woods. I yelled at mom to look. She did. She stopped our car, handed me her cell phone and said to call 911. Then she jumped out and hightailed it over to that crowd of boys. I remember it was damp and chilly. I jumped in the driver's seat and rolled down the window while I called 911. I heard mom yelling at those boys. She was yelling at them to leave the girl alone. I heard a lot of hollering and cussing and threatening, but they let her go, they jumped in their truck and peeled out on the gravel shoulder. Mom brought Carolyn back to our car. Carolyn was crying and all. Between sobs she told us how her boyfriend, by then ex-boyfriend, had tried to get her to 'put out', but she 'got out' instead. He'd left her there on a shadowy side track all alone. She'd been walking home when that bunch of boys tried to get her to go with them. My mom rescued her. We took her to her home where she really caught the Dickens from her mom and dad."

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