A Full Circle

My name is Sean Patrick O'Conner, at least that is the name my parents gave me. Back when I was in junior high, I got confused about a question the teacher asked in class, and answered with something that had no connection to the question. One of my so-called buddies hollered out, "Don't pay any attention to him, Miss Trotter, he's just a dumb Mick."

He got sent to the principal for that one, but the name stuck, and nowadays, everybody calls me Mick.

I joined the service after high school, and by the time I was 22 I was married to a wonderful woman by the name of Lynne. A couple of years went by, but by the time I was 26, we had a little boy by the name of Sean Junior. Lynne was busy with the baby, but she made sure that she could arrange things so she could finish her degree. I had started taking classes at night, getting as many courses out of the way as I could before my hitch was up. Just before I got out of the service, Lynne graduated from college with a degree in business administration. Lynne went to work, and I started college working as hard as I could to get my degree, taking 18 and sometimes 20 credits a semester toward my degree in computer science.

I finally graduated, and started looking for a job. Nada, zip, nothing doing. Even though I had experience working with computers in the service, and had my degree, there just wasn't anything available for me, without us having to move to another state. Lynne had a good job, and Sean was happy with his friends, so I started trying to think out of the box. A friend of Lynne's, her running partner Erin, suggested that I might try the county sheriff's office. I had experience with military intelligence, and Erin knew that they were thinking of setting up an Internet crimes division, but so far didn't have anyone that really knew all that much about computers or the Internet, so it really hadn't gotten off the ground. In fact, as I found out later, it wasn't anything more than an idea in the Sheriff's mind. (I should mention here that Erin was a deputy sheriff, working on the sexual assault team, and had been for several years.)

I applied, was accepted, went through peace officer training, and before long was the sole deputy assigned to Internet crimes, which included, of course, child pornography, identity theft and so on.

Another three or four years went by, and lo and behold I was promoted to sergeant and put in charge of the unit. It really made a lot of sense, as I was still the only deputy that had anywhere near my background with computers, although I now had at least five deputies reporting to me. I was the only sergeant with as few years in the department, which caused a bit of unhappiness among some of the deputies, but that went away after a few months, and things were going well. In the meantime, Erin had been promoted to sergeant also, only she was running one of the sexual assault teams, one that dealt primarily with child abuse and so on. I should also mention that Erin was really into martial arts, held at least two different black belts, and in fact taught our unarmed combat classes for the sheriff's department.

Erin and my wife were about the same size, rather petite, with Erin just at the minimum for her to be able to get in the department at all. It was kind of a joke around the office. Erin would arrive on the scene to arrest some jerk, and he would think that he didn't have any worries; he would just take out the little woman. When he found himself curled up on the floor and hurting in more places than he had thought possible, he couldn't believe it. If something looked like it might get physical, Erin was often called on, because she could take care of things, usually without pulling a gun.

Lynne was doing extremely well at her work, so well in fact that the company had strongly suggested that she get her MBA, which they would pay for. It was a bit rough for both of us, she was working full time, going to school at night, but when she finally graduated from Wharton's School of Business, she got an immediate promotion, and was making far more money than I was. She was also told that she had been selected for the fast track and that she could expect more promotions in the future if she kept on performing like she was.

Erin and I quite often worked together, primarily because child abuse and child pornography were rather closely linked at times. As a result, we became rather close friends. Lynne and I had Erin and her husband, Scott, over for dinner and drinks fairly often, and they reciprocated. I really didn't care for Scott, and never quite understood what Erin saw in him. He was one of those guys that works out in the gym several times a week, and liked to show off his strength, squeezing your hand as hard as he could when you shook hands, and so on. He also thought he was God's gift to women, and Erin had told me on one or two occasions that she caught him screwing around on her. He was handsome, with chiseled features, but it all, at least to me, didn't hide his basic flaws. Unfortunately, he also worked at the same company that Lynne did, in sales, although they didn't really work together all that much.

When Sean was about eight, we sent him to his grandparents to spend the summer. They had a home out in the country where he could run wild, ride horses, and basically get a good summer camp, without the horrible expense of one.

Erin and Scott's daughter, Samantha (who was almost exactly the same age as Sean), didn't have the same opportunity, but she did get to go to a two-week summer camp, up in the mountains. I thought it was a little unusual for an eight-year-old girl to be going to camp, but Erin explained that Sam was going to a camp for girls that taught art, and that Sam had been wild to go.

Right after the kids left for camp, Erin and I were told we needed to go to an out of town conference about three or four hours from where we lived, dealing with pornography and the Internet. Scott's car was in the shop because he had been in a fender-bender a couple of days before, so I took Erin in my car. The conference was to last three days, ending on a Friday night with a big dinner for all the attendees.

Friday at lunchtime, I got a call on my cell phone from Lynne, who was absolutely excited, and when I answered, she immediately launched into an explanation.

"We just signed the contract we have been working on for months. This puts us over on our numbers for the quarter, and it is big enough that we have already met our numbers for the year. We have just guaranteed our bonuses for the year. The company is putting on a party tonight at Johnny's, with dinner and dancing for everybody involved."

I congratulated her, and told her to have one for me.

"I just wanted you to know that I probably won't be home until late tonight, this is a major celebration, and I would really like to enjoy it."

"Go for it, just remember to get a cab if you have had too much to drink, we can always go get your car tomorrow."

She assured me she would and asked me to tell Erin about the windfall, and why Scott might not be home until late. I agreed, and she hung up.

I talked with Erin and she was as excited as I was. The bonus, as we understood it, was likely to be more than either Erin or I made in a year. After the last session was over, Erin asked me if I wanted to skip the dinner and drive back tonight, rather than the following morning. That way we could at least celebrate a little with our spouses. I thought it was a dandy idea, and we left town about 6:00pm.

About 10:00pm we pulled up to Erin's house, and Erin remarked that Scott must still be at the party as the house was dark. I waited until Erin was in the house, then left for our place, only about a mile away.

When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed that there was a car that looked a lot like Erin's parked at the curb, but really didn't think much about it. The lights were on, and I simply pulled into the garage, a little surprised that Lynne's car wasn't there, parked and lugged my suitcase into the house. The house was quiet, although lights were on everywhere. I looked in out on the back deck, then headed for the bedroom, thinking that I would just unpack, and maybe put a bottle of champagne on to chill.

I walked into the bedroom, and on the bed was Lynne and some man, her legs wrapped around his waist, and for the first time I heard the sound of Lynne panting as she whipped her head back and forth.

I dropped the bag, strode over to the bed, grabbed the man by his hair and flung him against the wall.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

The man slumped down on the floor for a moment, then snarled, "I'll kill you for this."

He started up, and I kicked him, intending to kick him in the stomach, but he was moving faster than I thought he would, and I wound up kicking him directly in the groin. He moaned and curled up in a fetal position.

"Oh, my God, Mick"

Lynne's voice was very slurred, and from her face it was obvious she was quite drunk.

I looked down at the asshole who had been fucking her, and realized that it was Scott.

I pulled Scott up by his hair again, and told him to get dressed and get the fuck out of my house. I could hear Lynne crying on the bed, but I just ignored her for the moment. When Scott had gotten his clothes back on I told him to give me his car keys.

"Why the fuck should I?"

"Because I will arrest you for drunk driving if you get in that car."

"How the hell am I supposed to get home?"

"I think it is called walking, asshole."

As I took his keys, I told him, "If I ever see you in this house again, I am going to beat the living shit out of you."

I escorted Scott out of the house, shut the door and locked it.

Lynne came out of the bedroom; a robe covering her, crying and asking me let her explain, her voice as slurred as it had been earlier.

"No fucking way. You are too god dammed drunk to make any sense tonight. We'll talk tomorrow."

With that I went into the bedroom, got my pillow, then walked into the guest bedroom, shutting the door.

After undressing, I laid on the bed for probably twenty or thirty minutes, and finding no answers to the thousand and one questions running through my mind, I got up and fixed myself a very strong drink, thinking that maybe I could at least make my mind go numb.

It wasn't five minutes later when the phone rang, and when I answered, I heard Erin's voice.

"Mick, what the hell happened over there? Scott is here with some cock and bull story about you assaulting him?"

I laughed bitterly.

"If I had assaulted him, he would have known it. I found him fucking Lynne, and too drunk to drive. So I took his keys from him and told him to walk home. As far as the assault, he seemed to get a bit upset when I pulled him off of Lynne, so I tried to kick him in the stomach, but he was moving faster than I expected, so I caught him in the balls instead."

There was silence for a few moments, then:

"I see, well this is the last time that bastard will screw around on me. I hope you kicked him really hard."

There really wasn't much else to say, so we hung up and went back to our thoughts.

I spent a very restless night, probably only sleeping for an hour or two. In my mind I kept seeing Lynne with Scott between her legs, and it was all I could do to not just go throw up. How the hell could this have happened?

About 5:30am I got up, made some coffee, and sat at the kitchen table, lost in my thoughts. Lynne dragged in about 30 minutes later, her eyes swollen, and looking very hung-over.

"We need to talk."

"We sure as hell do."

"I didn't mean for last night to happen. We were all at the party, and my boss kept ordering champagne for everyone. We all were dancing, and I got hot and thirsty, so I kept drinking the champagne. By the time we were ready to leave, I was sober enough to realize that I shouldn't be driving, so Scott offered to drive me home rather than calling a cab. When we got to the house, I asked him if he would like a cup of coffee or something. He asked for a glass of wine, so I opened a bottle of wine, and we both had a glass. He turned on the stereo, and asked me to dance one last dance with him, which I did. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was in bed with him on top of me. That was when you came in."

"I didn't want it to happen, I didn't mean it to happen, I really don't know how it happened."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry. I've hurt you beyond belief, and betrayed you. How can you ever trust me again?"

I looked at her and all I could see was Scott fucking her in our bed. My mind was really rather numb, but I could see that.

It went on in this vein, for two or three hours, until we agreed that I would not throw her out, which is really what I wanted to do, and that we would go to counseling.

It was around 9:30 or 10:00 when Lynne had gone off to shower, and I saw Erin jogging up the street to our house.

I let her in, and she, remarkably, hugged me, then told me she would like to get her car keys back.

"By the way – asshole is gone. I threw him out last night. Told him he had half an hour to pack a bag, and get out. I even called a cab for him, but that bastard will never be in my home again."

I heard Lynne coming up the hall, and stepped away from Erin. Lynne rounded the corner, saw Erin, and came to an abrupt halt, obviously having heard what Erin had said..

"Oh Christ. Erin how can you ever forgive me for what I did. I didn't want it, I didn't mean it, it just happened. I've screwed up my marriage and now yours."

Erin was silent for a few moments. Then she smiled, and reached out and hugged Lynne.

"Scott is a sexual predator. This is not the first time that he has played around on me, but it sure as hell is the last. I really think that he could charm almost any woman he wants into bed."

"I forgive you. Now just try and get your marriage back on track and don't worry about me."

Monday morning, Lynne had a marriage counselor lined up with an appointment for the following evening.

When we went to the counselor, Lynne didn't try to hide what she had done, and was putting no blame on me. She simply wanted the counselor to make things better.

It didn't work.

As the counselor told us at the first meeting, it was up to us to put our marriage back together.

We tried, Lynne tried, everyone tried, but it didn't work. Hell, Lynne even went so far as to completely replace the bed and all the bed linens, giving the old stuff to Good Will. It still didn't work.

Like I told Lynne and the counselor, I still loved her, I could forgive her, but I couldn't get the pictures out of my mind of Scott fucking her.

Every time Lynne undressed, I saw in my mind that she was doing it for Scott. When she caressed me, it was Scott she was caressing. It got to the point that sex was virtually impossible. When we tried to have sex, it was as though I was simply Scott for her.

Finally, after two or three months, shortly before Sean was to come home, she sat me down at the kitchen table, and asked me:

"This isn't going to work is it?"

"I don't think so. Every time I see you, it is as though you were being there for Scott, or with Scott."

"You understand that Scott means absolutely nothing to me?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't stop the visions in my head."

Lynne handed me an envelope. "

I've talked to an attorney, and made up a divorce agreement. I don't want a divorce, but we can't go on like this, Sean will be horribly affected. This is what I have asked him to draw up. He disagrees with me but this is what I want to do if we can't make things better."

The upshot was that we got divorced. I had custody of Sean because Lynne felt that he would need his father more than his mother in the coming years. I kept all of my retirement with the sheriff's department, and part of Lynne's 401(k). The house was appraised and we agreed that we would split that 50-50, but only when the house was sold, and then only at what the current appraised value was, less the part of Lynne's 401(k). Lynne would pay a significant amount as child support, and we would both waive spousal support.

Lynne got a three-bedroom condo within bike riding distance of our house, and we made sure that Sean knew how to get back and forth without crossing busy streets. We also made sure that he knew that he was welcome in either house whenever he wanted to be there.

Erin's divorce was not going as well as mine had. Scott was fighting everything, hiding assets, refusing to pay spousal support, you name it, and he was fighting it.

Finally, just before Christmas, Lynne brought Sean back after a weekend visitation, and handed me a check and an envelope.

"What's this?"

"That is half the bonus I got for that damned contract that cost us our marriage. I felt that I owed you this, at the very least. In the envelope is a copy of what Scott has made as bonuses this year. You can't use my name, or tell anyone where you got it, but this should help Erin with her divorce."

With that, Lynne turned and almost ran back to her car.

Erin finally got her divorce through, with the judge becoming very pissed off at Scott. The paperwork that Lynne provided helped Erin's attorney a lot in finding the assets that Scott had been hiding. By the time the judge figured out what Scott had been doing, it had really pissed him off. It showed in the child support and spousal support payments he was required to make. Erin got the house, but had to take out a loan against her retirement that she had built up to buy him out.

Erin and I carpooled together every day. It made sense, really, Sean and Sam were cared for by the same woman until we could come pick them up, so either Erin or I would drive to work in the morning, dropping the kids off at school, then in the evening we would pick them up on the way home. Nancy, the care provider, was really wonderful. She didn't mind if we were a few minutes (or on one or two occasions, a few hours late), if dinnertime approached, she simply fed them along with her own family.

For the next year or so, I just immersed myself in work and Sean. I didn't date; hell, I didn't even know how to go about it. Dating when you are in your thirties is a whole lot different than when you are 21 or 22. Or at least it seemed so to me.

One day Erin and I had just dropped off the kids at school, and were on our way to work, when she asked me:

"Mick, why haven't you started dating? You need to get something in your life other than work and Sean."

I was silent for a few minutes, then replied, "To be honest, I really haven't wanted to. I suppose that I don't want to get hurt again. Besides, who in the hell would want to date a thirty something divorced man with a child?"

Erin kind of squirmed in her seat, and was silent for a few moments, then responded: "How about a thirty something, divorced mother with a child?"

I couldn't think of a single thing to say for probably five or ten minutes, then:

"How would you like to go out to dinner Friday night after work? We could either get Nancy to keep the kids for a couple of hours, or we could simply take them with us."

We had dinner that Friday with the kids, and Erin and I started dating – more or less. Every once in a while we would ask Nancy to take care of the kids for a couple of hours extra, and go to an early dinner, but we never had the ability to have a so-called formal date. Even though Lynne took Sean every other weekend, Scott was having almost nothing to do with Erin or Sam, and it just didn't work out.

We had been going through the charade for probably six months or so, when we were on our way home from work on a Friday night. It was summer, and I was in the mood for a bit of steak and fresh corn on the cob.