I dropped the kids off Monday morning and took the time to talk with the camp directors. I explained that I was having serious problems with their mother involving faithfulness and possible drug use (I tossed that in for effect, it definitely got their attention.) I told them I'd be filing for divorce today or tomorrow, depending on when she dragged herself home. I wanted to shield the kids during the initial days of anguish. The directors were very sympathetic.
Today, Tuesday was the day of reckoning. Melinda was scheduled to meet Ernie at four in the afternoon. I spent that day getting all my ducks in a row; divorce papers ready, locks changed, bank accounts and credit cards taken care of. This was a day Melinda would never forget.
I checked my watch again - timing was all important.
I smiled when I saw her car enter the parking lot – Operation Slap the Slut Down was now operational. I called Melinda's work as soon as I saw her car turning into the parking lot. I left a quick message on her voicemail saying there was an emergency and to call me on my cell phone as soon as possible. Ernie arrived a few minutes later; damn he was young – mid to late twenties by my guess.
Any remaining trepidations about my intended course of action vanished when I saw Melinda enthusiastically kiss Ernie. I called her cell phone while she was still kissing him. She looked at her phone and did what I thought she would; she let it ring. I hung up at the start of her voicemail and called again. I figured she would either turn her phone off or lock it in her car (that way she had plausible deniability if I was to ask her later why she didn't answer) She chose option number two and locked the phone in her car. That's when I left a message that said there was a family emergency and that she needed call me as soon as she could. I watched them enter the room and began to call and hang up every couple of minutes. I planned on leaving dozens of "missed call" flags on her phone.
I waited about twenty minutes, figuring they were at the very least naked if not fucking, then drove to a spot next to Melinda's car. I opened my trunk (best to look natural in case anyone was looking my direction – all they would see is some guy with the trunk of his car open.) Did you know you can unscrew the inner part of a tire valve stem and the air rushes out in no time at all? In less then three minutes I flatted both tires on the driver side of Melinda's car and screwed the inner valves back into place. I took half a dozen roofing nails that I had shortened to about ¼" in length and pushed them into the thick portion of the tire tread. It looked as if she'd have run over a bunch of nails – tough luck.
Ernie's truck received some special treatment (okay, I wasn't looking to physically hurt Ernie, but since I had the opportunity I decided to fuck with him too.). I had borrowed a small floor jack, so I jacked up the front of his car and loosened the oil pan bolt until it was just holding on. I lowered his car, put the jack in my trunk and closed it. I was finished with everything in fifteen minutes. I drove off and waited for them to finish.
They came out of the room two hours later with more kissing and hugging. The only noticeable difference was that Melinda's movements were more languid and affectionate – she gets that way after sex. Her movements were anything but languid when she saw the two flat tires – she was gesturing and waving her arms around as she walked front to back alongside her car. Ernie must have said something stupid because she turned and said something that had him putting his hands up in front of him as he shook his head and backed away - idiot.
I called her phone. She looked in the car and fished around in her purse for her car key. I swear you could see her flinch when she saw the number of missed calls. It was show time. I saw her dial and prepared myself for my performance.
"Hi Tim? Have you..." Her voice sounded shaky and nervous.
"My God Melinda. Where have you been?" I was yelling into the phone. I paused to take a breath.
"You don't have to yell Tim. I can hear you just fine."
"I've been trying for hours to get a hold of you? Where are you? Why aren't you at work?" I had my voiced pitched right at the edge of panic. Melinda started to stammer out some lame excuse.
I started talking over her. I began to crinkle some paper and break up my speech pattern. "Be quiet and listen. There's been a serious
I could see her shouting into the phone. Then she swung into action. Melinda pushed Ernie to his car and soon they were heading for the freeway. I waited until they were out of sight then drove to Melinda's car. I pulled the phony nails out of her tires and re-filled them both with cans of flat fix. She was going to need her car before the end of the day. I had two more calls to make before I drove home.
I headed for the freeway they would be taking to get to the University. I stopped at the first emergency call box on the freeway and pulled out two of my voice recorders. I was soon talking to the state highway patrol. I pitched my voice low and added a southern drawl. "Hi officer, ah want to report a case of... ah road rage ah guess you'd call it. Ah was going the speed limit (I said that with emphasis) and this blue Toy-yota pick-up just came flying up behind me – right on my ass, 'scuse my language. I s'pose I should have pulled over, but – well, anyway this crazy guy starts leanin' on his horn. Then he swings out around me – Ah'm surprised he didn't hit anyone - and swerves up right next to me. Almost hit me, bad as that was, Ah mean ah have my wife and kids with me, then he sped up and cut right in front a me...ah got a partial plate just the last three numbers; 3-9-2. My name is..." I pressed a recorder.
An angry female voice blared out of the speaker. "Tell them about the gun Harold. I saw a gun. That crazy asshole flashed a gun at you."
I turned away from the phone. "Honey, ah didn't see it. Look ah'm just telling them my name..."
I pressed the second recorder. "So those crazy people can track us down and kill us? Hang up Harold. Hang up right now! Like this Harold..." I disconnected the call. I'd recorded those phrases with a woman a work who had a booming Southern drawl. I told her it was for a practical joke on my shiftless brother in law. She'd given me half a dozen takes without bating an eye.
I got back in my car and headed home. On the way, I called the soccer camp people and in a world weary voice I informed them that telling my wife I was divorcing her had not gone well. I told them that she had "gone ballistic" and threatened my life. I warned them that she and her lover might be on the way there to try and take the children.
I told them I was just calling to be certain that they wouldn't release the children to them as my wife's lover was a known drug user and it wasn't a safe situation for the kids. The camp operators were very understanding. I asked them not to say anything to the kids unless it was absolutely necessary.
An hour or so later I was sitting at home eating pizza and drinking beer. I figured I had at least one more hour before May Anne might show up. That would be the case if she was able to contact the soccer camp and determine that the kids were fine. I didn't think that likely as I had made all the arrangements and she didn't even have the proper name for the camp let alone the phone number. If she got to the University she would then find out that there wasn't a University Medical Center or Hospital. "If she got there" I had to smile at that. If the oil drain plug had fallen out, she and Ernie were sitting by the side of the road.
A couple of hours later the camp called to report that Melinda and a male companion had indeed shown up. They arrived in the company of the state police. The police had pulled them over for speeding and just about strip searched them looking for weapons – something about a report of road rage. The camp officials assured her that the kids were fine, but that they had refused to let Melinda see them – unless it was in the presence of their father. She asked them "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
That's when one of the camp people mentioned the impending divorce and asked if the man she was with was her husband or her lover. They said Melinda went white as a sheet – then she became hysterical. The State Police had to escort Melinda and Ernie off the campus grounds.
Then the soccer camp folks made my day. I couldn't have planned this part. While Melinda and Ernie were talking, one of the staff mentioned the drug user reference to the police. They pulled Ernie over just after they left the campus and searched him again. Evidently Ernie got pissed and got into it with one of the officers. They arrested him for driving while impaired. Melinda was deemed unfit to drive due to her hysterical emotional state and was taken into temporary custody too.
I received a call from the state police no long after speaking with the camp folks. I had a very nice conversation with a Sergeant Waterston. I explained that my wife had been cheating on me and that I'd finally had enough. Melinda was informed this afternoon that I had seen a lawyer and had filed for divorce. I gave the sergeant my lawyer's telephone number. The sergeant asked if I'd stay available as he wanted to talk to my wife. I said sure, but don't be surprised if she denies everything. I even suggested it was okay with me if they wanted to take a vaginal swab. He declined.
A half- hour later he called back. They were releasing Melinda and that my wife wanted to talk with me. I told the sergeant that she was free to call my lawyer at the number I had provided. He kind of laughed a little when he asked if I was coming to pick Melinda up. I informed them that her car was in the parking lot of the motel where she'd been screwing her lover. He chuckled a little at that.
Ten minutes later, the phone rang and I saw Melinda's cell number on the caller ID. I picked up and said nothing. Finally after a long pause I heard an inhalation and Melinda's quavering voice. "Tim, I don't know what you think is going on but..."
"Please don't make this any worse than you already have. Your adultery has destroyed our family you stupid whore." I hung up and turned the ringer off. I would have loved to see her face when she heard the new answering message on the machine. "Hi this is Tim. Melinda no longer lives here. Her cell number is..."
It was two in the morning when I heard someone (guess who) pounding on the front door. I walked to the door and shouted through it. "You're things are in the driveway. (I'd packed, okay stuffed, her clothes into a bunch of trash bags) Take your cheating ass and go away."
"Tim, please let me in." Melinda sounded absolutely exhausted. "There's been a terrible misunderstanding. We need to talk. I love you Tim. Please."
We went back and forth, I didn't budge. Finally, I replayed part of a phone conversation I'd taped when she was driving in her car. She was talking to Ernie and saying how much she loved sucking and fucking him. I turned the volume up loud when it came to the part where she said his cum was so sweet and tasty.
Melinda started to cry. I told her to get her stuff and go stay with her lover or whoever else she was fucking. She finally left telling me that she was going to her parents and would be back tomorrow to straighten this all out.
The next day didn't quite work out the way she intended. Actually, none of the days that followed worked out for her. I was as relentless as I was unmerciful.
I had her officially served at work on Thursday. That little stunt had her waiting by my car at the end of the work day. She was furious.
"I have nothing to say to you slut." I was quite pleased with my ability to remain calm.
"Don't you dare talk to me that way? I can't believe you had me served at work! Do you have any idea what you've done?" She was as angry as I've ever seen.
"What I've done? I'll talk to you how ever I chose. Would you prefer "stupid whore?"
"Tim, I admit that I may have made a mistake. We can work through this. I love you Tim. Let's stop this silliness and..."
"Silliness? You're a cheating, stupid whore. If I give you twenty bucks will you go away?"
"How dare you...I am your wife Tim. I am the mother of our children. Now they are going to be coming home tomorrow and they are going to find..."
"Me. They are going to find just me. I imagine you, the stupid whore, will be on your back somewhere with Lover Boy."
"Tim, please stop calling me names. It's not going to help us. We need to talk about this. I realize you're angry and upset, but we can work through this Tim. Our marriage can be stronger for this."
"Would you listen to yourself you stupid whore?"
"Stop calling me names Tim."
"Okay. Answer me this," I glared at her with an intensity of hatred that surprised even me. She wilted before me. "You chose to "be" with another man. You stripped naked before him, you sucked his cock, you swallowed his cum and let him fuck you. By doing this you risked everything; our marriage, our family, my love and respect for you, my health - by the way "dearest" I've been tested and I'm clean so far. HIV testing is a six months wait. (She paled at that comment.) You risked everything – what did lover boy risk?"
"No...no, it's not like that..." Melinda was shaking.
"You risked everything, he risked nothing. What did you get? Tell me what you got. You're about to lose everything Melinda, what did you get from your lover. What did you get for throwing all of this away?"
She just shook her head, unable to speak.
"That's exactly right – you got nothing? No jewelry, no trips to romantic locales, no cars – nothing – no secret bank account, no suitcase full of money – not one damn thing, did you? You got nothing. Well you're right about one thing. I have absolutely no right to call you a stupid whore. A whore is smart enough to get something for fucking. You fucked another man for which you got nothing and now you're going to lose everything. You're not even smart enough to be a decent whore. Calling you a whore is giving whores a bad name. I guess that just makes you a really dumb slut."
I drove away with her sitting on the ground sobbing uncontrollably. Fuck her.
Cashing in my chips
I'd arrived for the lawyers office right on time. I had even stopped by the house to shower and dress in a suit. I wanted her to see me at my best. I sat opposite her in the lawyers office. If I cared for her in any way, the look that Melinda leveled at me should have wrung my heart out; her pain was palpable. My expression remained calm and impassive; my resolve was unwavering. She made one last effort to put off the inevitable I simply glanced down at my watch then back up at Melinda. Her shoulders slumped. She picked up the pen and asked my lawyer where to sign.
Victory was mine! - I felt like I wanted to do some silly end zone dance. The first document she signed was the petition for divorce – citing irreconcilable differences. At one time I had cared deeply that the cause be listed as adultery. I was fortunate to have a lawyer who really knew how to bring on the pain. The key, she had told me again and again, was in the terms and conditions of the divorce. Success was determined by knowing what the other side wanted and what you could force them to give up in return.
The whole signing process was literally a performance my lawyer and I had choreographed. There were props and characters; it was really quite impressive.
The next document was a name change request. Melinda was being required to revert back to her maiden name. If you don't think that's a big deal – guess again – she was no longer going to have the same last name as her children. That point alone almost sunk the agreement. Oh yeah, that one hurt big time. I watched as Melinda relinquished my surname, tears trickling down her cheeks.
A small black tray was placed before her. This time when Melinda looked at me her expression seemed hollowed out – then it hit me and I actually felt a twinge of sympathy for her. It wasn't just that any hope of avoiding this was failing, it was more than that. The realization of loss was being overwhelmed by the actual reality of surrender. Her losses were suddenly real – these were not negotiating points any longer. She looked at the tray and shuddered as she removed her wedding ring. As soon as she placed it on the tray it was quickly removed from the room.
She twisted her engagement ring on her finger. I had let her keep it but even that small victory was about to turn to ashes.
"Do you know why I'm letting you keep that ring Melinda? I gave you that ring when I asked you to be my wife. I want you to keep that ring to remember all that we promised and all that you've thrown away." I pulled my wedding band off my finger and pushed it toward her.
"You can have this back, it's still whole and complete, I kept my promises..." One of my lawyers' assistants returned with the tray. Melinda's ring had been cut in two. I picked up the pieces and held them in my open hand then tossed the pieces into a trashcan. "Worthless crap."
Melinda seemed to waver in her chair and reached out to grip the table. Her head was bobbing slightly. My thrill of victory was beginning to fade. I actually began feel sorry for her as the next document was placed before her. A Quit Claim Deed for her share of the house. The key here was that the monetary value of her share was being put in a college trust for the children with her as trustee until they came of age.
Finally we came to the document that had leveraged her acceptance of everything that had preceded it. – the custody agreement. My lawyer spoke clearly.
"Do you fully understand the conditions of this custody agreement? The children remain in the house. Parents alternate living in the house on a weekly basis the transition of custody to occur every Sunday between the hours of 6 and 7 PM. All expenses to be borne equally until the child finish college or reach the age of maturity. If you agree to these conditions and arrangements, just sign at the bottom." I watched my soon to be ex-wife sign. The pen fell listlessly from her hand and she began to cry in earnest.
Defeat is not a pretty sight. And it lasts a long, long time. I had been a step ahead of Melinda from the moment she exited that motel room with Ernie. My position was unchanging; divorce and controlling custody of the kids. I guess she thought she could find a way around all this.
I had a coupe of things going for me. The kids of course were the key. I bent over backwards to protect them and ensure that Melinda and her parents had access to them. I also promised not to tell the kids what their mother had done that lead to our divorce. That was couched in the language of "your mom and dad are parting as partners but not as parents."
The other key was the threat of revealing and releasing video evidence of Melinda and Ernie - although, truth be told, I really didn't have any. Years before a friend told me that he'd seen a porno starring an actress who bore a striking resemblance to Melinda. I'd checked it out and had to admit that there was a real resemblance. During the planning phase of my retribution I turned that resemblance to my advantage by buying a number of those movies. I found a couple of videos with actors that matched a verbal description of Ernie; mid/late twenties, average height and weight, dark hair, etc. By taping portions of the videos off the TV with my camcorder I was able to produce a pretty graphic motel room session It looked like video shot under poor lighting conditions. It was especially effective when viewed on the 2.5 inch LCD screen of the camera. It looked like Melinda being fucked by Ernie.