A Picture – Worth A Thousand Words

I went into work; the last one in. I gathered the staff around and told them what was going on. I also emphasised that in no way was Bev allowed to call me or see me. Anything she had to say could be said to my lawyer. No exceptions. Joyce again promised her wrath, just in case they didn't understand the message. They did. I told Lisa and Joyce that if Bev came into the store to insist, politely, that she leave. If she wouldn't, call the police to come and remove her. Under no circumstances was she allowed behind the counter. She was not an owner or even a director of the company any longer. Everyone understood, expressed their sympathies and went back to work. To all outward appearances it was business as usual.

Later that morning I went down the street to a furniture store we did business with. I told the sales rep that I wasn't in the mood, nor did I have time, for dickering. I wanted a bedroom suite, queen size bed with a pillow mattress, and I wanted it delivered tonight. She assured me it was possible, but the delivery at that time would cost more. I signed the order and gave her a cheque. He boss okayed it; we'd done quite a bit of business there.

For lunch, I went across the street to my favourite coffee shop. The word must have gotten out. Olga fussed around me like a mother hen. Slim, her husband just patted me on the back and said they'd be there for me. It meant a lot. I went back to the store. Lisa handed me a fistful of messages and said all but one were from Bev. I kept the one and chucked the rest. The one was from Sally asking me if the grounds were adultery and did I want to name a correspondent. Yes to both. I returned her call. She was in conference so I spoke to her clerk and relayed that yes, grounds were adultery, and yes there was a correspondent. I gave her the details. I asked the clerk to have Sally call me about alienation of affection. Maybe a lawsuit would get assholes' attention, or at least piss him off. I was having second thoughts about putting it off until later.

I called Glen and set up an appointment for later that week. Almost everything was ready; I just had to give him the dates of the meeting of the company directors. I told him to use last Thursday. Well, it wasn't strictly the truth, but that's the last time I saw Bev in person, so to speak. The irony wasn't lost on him, but he didn't say anything. I asked him to make sure that a copy was sent to Sally, and my bank, attention the Manager. He promised that it would be done immediately.

There was a commotion in the front of the store. I knew at once what it was. Bev was trying to force her way into my office. Joyce and Lisa were holding her back. I called on the intercom for the techs to come up front as re-enforcements. I was looking through the one way glass, watching the struggle when Bev hauled off and slapped Joyce, hard, in the face leaving the imprint of her hand. Joyce called the police just as I was picking up the phone to do so. They arrived quickly and got it all settled down. They escorted Bev out of the store, saying they would be back for witness statements later. Yes, Joyce wanted her charged with assault. She had witnesses, and one of the techs had taken a few photos of the handprint on her face.

God, the woman had become unhinged. Payback is a bitch and it had just started. I called Glen and got him to arrange for a restraining order keeping Bev and Burns at least 100 metres away from the store, and 300 away from the house and property. I relayed what had just happened and he was happy to expedite it. None of us would have to go to court for that. We might have to if there was a trial for the assault. I doubted that it would. At best it was a mild case of common assault and no-one was really hurt. Just having her charged might temper some of her actions.

Wednesday I went to Glens' office and signed all the corporate documents. I had him make copies for me. Sally and the bank already had theirs. I asked him about the prenup. He told me it was pretty cut and dried. Bev would leave the marriage with what she brought into it, actually a bit more since she had her RRSP's that I had been paying in to. She also had her car that she was making the payments on. I had no use for it anyway. She couldn't touch the business or our house since her name wasn't on title. She could try since we had been married for so long, but her chances weren't good with the evidence I had.

Sally called my cell just as I left Glens' office. The divorce documents were ready to be served. Did I know where Bev was? I hadn't thought of that. I had no idea. I told her to try her office and see if she was at work. They could serve Bev there, or at least tell her where the documents could be served. I then asked her about the alienation of affection. She counselled against it since he was already named as a correspondent in the divorce. After the divorce was settled would be time enough for that. I told her I didn't really expect anything from it, but I wanted Burns to know just how totally pissed I was. I was mad and I would get even. My easy going nature was gone. For good? I didn't know. Time would tell.

I immersed myself in my work, going home only to change clothes and get a couple of hours sleep. I didn't have much of an appetite, but did manage to grab a bite to eat different times during the day. Customers who called asking for support were told that I couldn't come but would one of the senior techs be okay. Most agreed that the tech could probably deal with their problem. The only one that I left the office to see was one of my first ever business customers who had, over the years, become a close friend. He was supportive when I told him about Bev and would tell his wife. She and Bev had become close friends and worked on a couple of charities together. I wondered if that friendship would survive the fallout.

Three weeks after I'd caught Bev and her boyfriend Sally called to tell me that they had finally been able to serve the divorce documents to Bev. They couldn't find a home address for her so had to wait until she returned to work. Bev had called Sally, telling her she refused to sign and would fight the divorce. Sally told her to get her own lawyer since she was acting for me. Any discussion Sally would have would be with Bev's lawyer, after he had gone through everything with her.

I knew that she would fight it. Who wouldn't? She was losing her gravy train and probably could hardly survive on what she earned. The real world was starting to bite her in the ass. I refused any support payments until she could prove need. I, as was Sally, was fairly certain any support would cease when the divorce was final. The video was pretty damming.

I was really surprised when Bev pleaded not guilty to assault and the case would go to trial. I couldn't believe that her lawyer would let her do that. It turned out he did counsel against it but she ignored him. Instead of being a relatively routine, minor offence she wanted a trial to try to justify her actions. As the judge said, it was her right.

The trial was set for a few months away and all my staff would be called as witnesses. They had wanted to call me as well, but I was removed from the witness list when it was determined that I wasn't physically present when the assault occurred. I guess technically that was true, although I did see it happen through the one-way glass in my office. In any case, there were plenty of other witnesses.

Meanwhile the divorce wound its way through the legal system. Bev, through her lawyer, put up every roadblock possible, even trying to cast doubt on the validity of the video. The judge, a female if it matters, reserved judgement until she had seen it. She didn't look very pleased when she returned to court a couple of hours later. As disgusting as the video was, it was the audio she really didn't like. Divorce proceedings would continue.

Bev wanted joint counselling to see if the matter could be resolved. I didn't want this but she did win this round. She would go to counselling on her own for two sessions then there would be three joint sessions. I told her that for the joint sessions I would be bringing my own, male, counsellor and if she and her counsellor had a problem with that, then the whole thing would be a waste of my time. She and her counsellor didn't like it, but they did agree in the end.

At the start of the first joint session I walked into the office where Bev and her counsellor, Samantha Adams, were waiting. Polite introductions followed. She and my counsellor, Harry Simpson, were of course acquainted. Theirs was a small world. Ms. Adams indicated that I should sit on the sofa beside Bev. I refused and sat in a chair across from her desk. Harry got a chair and sat beside me.

"Thank you for coming Jack. I, we, hope this will help resolve the situation," Samantha started.

I interrupted, "My name is Mr. Ames to you. Harry can call me Jack since I'm his client. I am not yours. And one more thing, if at any point Mrs. Ames starts this I didn't mean it bullshit, I'm out of here. That's a blatant lie, and I won't put up with falsehoods. Do we understand each other?" If they wanted attitude, I had lots to offer.

To give her credit she regained her composure quickly, "As you wish Mr. Ames. I have already heard from your wife her side of it. Now I would like to hear your side as well, exactly what happened."

"I don't know how much or what you've been told. Do you want to hear the whole sordid story or just the highlights? Have you seen the video?" I asked. I was fairly certain that Bev had put a real "woe is me" slant on her story.

"No, I haven't seen the video."

"Well, it would have saved a lot of time if you had. A picture is worth a thousand words, in this case it's a video," I replied.

She nodded.

"So, you want to hear everything?"

"Yes, please. I need to hear it in your words."

"Okay," I replied. Over the next half hour related the events of that week, starting with the Sunday when I had driven to the plant, ending when I had shot the video then left the house. Bev tried to interrupt a couple of times and I made it quite plain that if it continued I would be leaving and the sessions would be over. She remained on the sofa, crying quietly as I spoke.

"So, Jack," she started. I gave her a hard look, narrowing my eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ames. As I was about to say, you had never seen any evidence of her cheating on you prior to this."

"No, I was too busy with my "stupid business," and being a "stupid fucking meal ticket," I replied bitterly, "She was too good at covering up her tracks. The only thing I know is that it was going on for quite awhile since he was so at home, in MY home, in MY bed." I literally spat the words out.

"So you don't know how long?"

"Does it matter? Lying and cheating are lying and cheating. Doesn't matter if it was once or a thousand. Makes no difference, at least to me."

Bev started to speak, "Jack, I just want..."

"Shut up Bev. You have nothing to say that I want to hear or would ever believe. If you're trying to tell me you're sorry, it's just that you're sorry you're losing your meal ticket; sorry you got caught; not sorry that you did it. Save your lies for someone who'll listen, not me." I hadn't raised my voice, it was flat, intense. She cringed as I spoke then settled back on the sofa. Her tears continued to fall.

The rest of the session went the same way, and Harry and I left after the hour was up. "Ms. Adams, if the other sessions are going to be like this, it's a total waste of time, yours and mine."

"That may be, Mr. Ames, but the court ordered three joint sessions. We plan on holding you to it."

"Your nickel," I said as we walked out of her office.

Harry turned to me as we walked out of the building. "Jack, do you want me to keep returning with you? You really didn't need me in there. You handled it all quite well."

"Harry, I don't really need you, but I want you there. She won't be able to pull any underhanded shit if you're in the room. Let's just say you're the elephant in the room. Hard to ignore."

"Okay Jack, I'll be in touch," he said as we parted ways. I headed to my car and drove home. I decided that the rest of the evening would be for relaxation, some dinner, and a nice bottle of wine. I hoped to get an early night in my nice new bed.

The best laid plans, as the saying goes. I had just got relaxed in front of the TV when there was a pounding on the front door. Instead of going down to the office and checking the webcam, I just looked through the peep hole in the door. Burns. Didn't dumbass know there was a restraining order against him?

I didn't answer the door, just picked up the phone and called 911. I explained to the dispatcher that there was a person who was subject to a restraining order pounding loudly on the front door of my home, and no, I had no wish to talk to him and certainly wasn't going to confront him. She advised me that the police were on their way. They arrived a few minutes later and I could hear some loud discussion outside the door. I watched through the living room window as he was placed in the back seat of the patrol car. The look he gave me could melt lead.

Chapter 4

The next week was fairly uneventful. I never heard from or about Burns at all. Bev never tried to contact me and neither did our kids. Either they were busy or I was in the doghouse. I just continued to immerse myself in my work. One highlight of the week was that Lisa had found a nice guy and gotten engaged. They hadn't set a date yet. She was a good kid and deserved some happiness; and her daughter needed a father. I was happy for her.

Joyce was alternately a mother hen and a pain in the ass, depending on the circumstances. I finally started going out to visit customers just to get away. I knew, and appreciated, that she was worried about me and what might happen with Bev. It was out of my hands so I refused to worry about it. If push came to shove, I could sell the house, auction the contents and pay off the mortgages and debt, then divide the proceeds with Bev. I didn't know if it would come to that or not. Sally felt that we had a good case, and anything that Bev ended up with would depend on our goodwill.

I never really did the bar scene before, and didn't want to start now. I began going to a gym and got a personal trainer to set up a good regimen, both physical and for my diet that had consisted of coffee and the odd sandwich for the past few weeks. I gradually, very gradually, began to feel better, physically if not mentally. At least after a good workout I was able to sleep.

The second counselling session didn't go any better than the first, except I had to sit there and listen to Bev try to justify her cheating. That was a non-starter so I just let her ramble on and tuned her out. To this day I couldn't tell you what she said. Harry made some notes, maybe to show that he was at least involved in the matter. After all, that's what I was paying him for. I asked him to see if Ms. Adams would cancel the other session. It would be a waste of time. Harry said that he'd call her, and also that he'd give me a written summary of what he had written down. Whatever.

He got back to me early in the next week. The third session would go ahead as scheduled. That annoyed me, but it wasn't my call. I was still adamant that the divorce would go ahead, with or without Bev. He gave me a written summary of what Bev had said. There were no surprises, and nothing to indicate that I should try to keep the marriage together. As far as I was concerned it was over except the formalities.

For the third session, Ms. Adams brought in the big guns; the kids. Both my son and daughter had been well-coached in what to say, what reasoning to present, and what response they should give to my questions. Their biggest problem was that I wouldn't play that game. I let them say their piece, listened to Ms. Adams say her part, then listened to Harry explain why I wouldn't have any questions or response. I'd already told him that if I couldn't trust my wife, there was no way on Earth that I could stay married to her. He just put it a little more eloquently that I could, but the message was there. What little glimmer of hope Bev may have had died right there in the room. As far as I was concerned it was a matter of negotiating the settlement.

We were back in court the following week, and the judge allowed the divorce to proceed. The negotiations would be between our lawyers. I'd heard over the months that Sally was tough; after all, Glen had mentioned that she didn't take prisoners. She gave me a quick hug as we left the court and told me she'd keep me informed. In about six months I'd be single again.

We finally negotiated down to she would keep her car and RRSP's. I would pay off the loan for her car but keep all the furnishings in the house. Bev was really pissed when I informed her that the entire bedroom suite had been taken to the landfill; she was the one who chose it. If the house was sold within five years, she was entitled to half the net proceeds. Since I'd already boxed and removed everything that could conceivably be considered hers that first night, she wasn't left with a whole lot. Hey, she fucked up a good thing. Life is like that. Shit flies when you get caught.

After the divorce settlement was reached and recorded, I contacted Sally and asked her to go ahead with the lawsuit against Burns for Alienation of Affection. I didn't expect much to come of it. I also sent Mrs. Burns a copy of the video, and a copy the petition of divorce naming her husband as a correspondent. I had included a note telling her that if she ever wanted to talk about it to call me. I gave her my new cell number. I also sent a copy to Burns' employer with a note explaining what had transpired. I never heard back from them.

About two weeks later I was working out in the yard when an older model Chev Impala pulled up in front of the house and a very pretty woman got out. She opened the back doors and two kids came piling out of the car. "Mr. Ames? I'm Elizabeth Burns. Can we talk?"

"Of course. I didn't really expect you to come over. Can I get you and the kids something to drink? We can go in back on the patio. The yard's fenced in so the kids can't wander out into the street or anything." I opened the door, waiting for her and the kids to follow inside. She thought about it for a few seconds. I wasn't sure exactly why she was here. Oh, I knew the reason but I don't know what she expected to accomplish by showing up on my doorstep.

"That would be nice. Maybe some iced tea or something. Ice water for the kids. They're used to that."

"Sure, please, follow me." I walked her through the house and showed her to the patio. She could pick her own chair. I got two iced teas and two waters and joined her on the patio.

"Okay, Mrs. Burns. Can I ask why you're here? Well, I know the reason, but I don't know exactly what you expect me to do." I settled back and sipped at my ice tea.

"It's Elizabeth, or Liz if you want. Actually I just came to see who the man was that finally brought my cheating, lying bastard of a soon-to-be ex-husband down, and thank him from the bottom of my heart." She was smiling, something I really hadn't expected.

"You mean...?"

"Yes, we're getting divorced. By the time I'm through with him he won't have a pot to piss in, and only a basement window to throw it out of. I knew he'd been cheating. For years, with several partners. You're the only one that had the balls to go after him." She gave a short laugh and sipped at her glass. The kids were running around on the grass without a care in the world. "Do you know who Sally Fields is?"

"Yes, she's the lawyer handling my divorce."