Amnesty

It was in the second week of third month when I walked into the bathroom and found Kate taking care of her needs with something long and silver that was humming. She screamed at me to get the hell out of there. I purposely delayed my exit for a few extra moments then turned and left. If it was possible, it got even frostier after that night.

On Friday nights Kate began stopping after work with a few of her friends, probably to compare notes with the other wives, and I suppose, to bitch to them about me. She would come home not drunk, but not totally sober either. When it went from getting home at seven to not getting home until after nine, I wasn't happy. Then when she didn't get home one night until almost eleven and was pretty drunk, I blew my stack because she had driven home in that condition.

It got ugly real fast, as all the past dirt was brought back up and thrown in my face again. That night I locked her ass out of the bedroom.

She banged on our bedroom door on and off for about twenty minutes, waking our kids in the process. Finally she left. Where to at this point I didn't care. She probably passed out somewhere. Another night I didn't get a wink of sleep, this was getting to be a bad habit. Her attitude and oafishness towards me had finally reached its limit. I wasn't a hundred percent innocent, but God damn it, I was done paying the price. I was tired of living with the Wicked Witch of the West.

Kate was in rare form Saturday morning. She was sipping on a cup of coffee just waiting for me. I felt the icy stare on my back as I poured myself a cup hoping the conversation this morning wasn't going to get ugly like it lately did. I sat across the kitchen table from her, looked into her cold blue eyes, and gave her a full broadside.

"Mrs. Kate Moore, you have three days to make a decision. We can start talking and living like a married couple again. We can go to counseling to work out our issues, or we can separate and get a divorce. Your choice."

"Are you threatening me?" she demanded, sitting straight up at that moment.

"No, more so telling you the facts of life. I'm tired of living like this, and I refuse to any longer. So, I'm letting you make the decision, but I'm giving you only three days to do so." I remained calm. I didn't raise my voice and was as non-confrontational as possible, while still getting my message across. "I'm leaving the house this morning, and I am giving you until Tuesday at seven o'clock in the morning to give me your answer. Depending on what you decide, I will do what is best for me."

"You're shitting me, right?" she spit back. "You fuck around on me and now give me ultimatums? Steve, you don't have the balls to walk out that door." I didn't even finish my coffee, just walked over to the sink and poured what was left down the drain.

She followed me up the stairs to the hall closet where I got out one suitcase. If she thought I was bluffing she was sadly mistaken. Throwing it on the bed, I packed two sets of work clothes and a couple of casual outfits for the rest of the weekend. I packed my shaver, deodorant, and other toiletries I would need, putting the rest of my stuff on top and closed it up. She stood there, mouth open, saying nothing.

I carried the suitcase down the stairs when I saw my daughter and son watching us.

"Dad, don't go. Mom, tell him to stay," my son pleaded with my wife. I gave both kids a kiss and a big hug as they turned their attention to their mother who was just staring at me almost in disbelief. When I threw the suitcase into the back seat of my car, I turned around and looked at Kate. Nothing, not a bit of emotion was on her face.

The last word I heard was from my daughter was the word, "DAD!" Trying hard to control my emotions, I pulled out of my garage and onto the street, heading for the Red Roof Inn over on Twelfth.

I turned my phone off. I didn't want to hear any more of her tirades today. I spent the rest of the day sitting in my room, having more than a few cold ones, watching college football, and feeling sorry for myself. I was right, wasn't I?

Because I'd had a few too many adult beverages, I fell asleep and missed dinner. It was almost nine thirty the next morning when I finally woke up. I needed a shower and something in my stomach.

I started second guessing my actions. They say you can't solve your problems if you don't talk—except we weren't even yelling at one another anymore. We lived in the same house and even shared a bed, but we weren't together. Did I overreact? Maybe I should have given her more time to get over what had happened, but after four months of hell I was fed up. What I really wanted was an immediate answer, at the same time knowing the one I'd probably get I most likely wouldn't like. She knew what she wanted and if not, she had seventy-two hours to figure it out.

I consumed everything that wasn't nailed down at the breakfast buffet. I ate all the things I've been told were bad for me and even had seconds on the bacon and sausage. I was almost feeling human again.

Looking at my phone, I thought about turning it on but decided to give it a couple of more hours. Both parents knew we were having problems, and as much as I tried to minimize them, my dad saw through it. He had finally cornered me outside one Sunday and I gave him the whole story—what the video showed and my version.

"I'm glad it's you and not me. Your mother would have made me a eunuch before I woke up the next morning." He laughed, I tried to, but it wasn't funny anymore. "I know Kate, she'll let you stew for a couple of weeks and then forgive you. Hell, if that's the worst thing you ever do, consider yourself lucky. Flowers always worked for your mother, and if that didn't chocolate and another charm for her bracelet did the trick." How wrong he was.

Now I'd moved out and was trying to figure out my next move. Let me rephrase that—the ball was in Kate's court, and all I could do was wait. I know, though, I couldn't be a patient man much longer.

When I finally turned my cell back on, there were two calls from my son, nothing from Kate. Was I worried? Hell, yes, but I think she thought I was bluffing and maybe I was a little. We just needed to get this off dead center and move forward or should I say back to where we were.

Sunday was the most stressful and boring day of my married life to date. I was tired of football and with work tomorrow I sure as hell wasn't going to get drunk, so I vegetated, made a few notes about how I figured we could get back to where we once were, and crashed early.

Thankfully Monday came. Glad to finally be busy because I would have gone nuts if I didn't have anything to do. I threw myself into work and never even broke for lunch. I was still going strong when my boss told me to get the hell out of there and go home to my lovely wife. That, my friends, wasn't going to happen, not that night, anyway.

A couple of guys asked if I wanted to stop after work for a cold one. So for the first time in a couple of years, I took them up on it. I had a great time. We tipped a few and even stopped for dinner. It was almost eight o'clock before I made it back to my motel room.

I flipped through the programs on cable, nothing interested me. Tomorrow was my day of reckoning and I didn't have a clue what Kate was going to do. I flipped on my phone and saw that I still had no message from her. If she wanted to make me sweat she was doing a good job.

Sleep escaped me once again as I looked over at the bedside clock almost every hour.

By five thirty I was up, showered and shaved. I still had to work for a living but work was the last thing on my mind. I had a full breakfast in the downstairs restaurant and more than a few cups of coffee. With my cell phone now on, I waited.

Seven o'clock came and went. At seven thirty I checked out of the motel and went to work but only lasted a half-day. I checked my phone twice more that morning but got no calls from anyone. Why the hell was I carrying a damn cell phone? I'd received a call from my kids but that was it. I left work, drove around, and besides feeling sorry for myself and angry for the games Kate was playing, I started making some kind of plan for moving forward, alone.

I know she felt like the victim in this mess, but I was now feeling like a pawn and didn't like it one iota. I went brain dead before telling myself that two could play this game.

My first stop was our bank. I took out three fourths of our savings and checking, and the three two- thousand dollar certificates of deposit we had in our safety deposit box. I opened up an account at a new bank in my name only. If she wanted to play games, we'd play games.

With her at work and the kids at school, I had the house to myself. Being gone only three days, it still looked the same. Even our bedroom looked neat and tidy. I found her stash of toys and lubricants and thought about coating them with some Icy Hot I had for sore muscles, then thought better of it. I packed two more suitcases of clothes I'd need for the rest of the week, making sure to leave my closet door and a few dresser drawers open just enough so she'd know I had been there.

I thought about leaving my wedding ring stuck to the counter top with one of our butcher knives. I figured that would get her attention but it would probably escalate it up too many notches, and then I'd have to pay someone to repair the damage, it wouldn't be worth it. So I took my house keys and left, I sure as hell wasn't leaving my house keys. I found a motel closer to work, checked in, and waited.

Just after six-fifteen I got two hang-up calls and an ugly text.

"You took all our money out of the bank, call me!"

I didn't bother to return her calls. My back was the one that was up now. I had tried to talk to her for months and all I'd gotten was a cold shoulder. Well, I guess to her money spoke louder than flowers.

Kate texted me four more times Tuesday night, I never returned a one. Maybe she'd see what it was like to try to talk to a person who ignores you. I slept great Tuesday night and had a Grand Slam breakfast at Denny's before heading into work.

Kids play games like this, not adults, or at least they're not supposed to. Kate's phone calls, e-mails to my work, and text messages were relentless. I knew the kids were home from school by four so I called at four fifteen and talked to them both.

"Dad, I don't know what you did, but Mom's really mad at you. I haven't seen her this mad since you brought home that plasma television." I chuckled, but they didn't think it was so funny.

"Are you two getting a divorce?" my daughter Angie asked, and for once I didn't have a definitive answer for her.

"I hope not," was all I could say. I wanted to say I gave the bitch three options and she decided to take none of them, but I held my tongue; after all she was their mother. "Angie, worst case scenario I'll be home Friday to get some more of my clothes. Maybe by then we'll have figured something out." I was hoping since I wasn't as sure as I once was.

Thursday morning Kate's father, Doug, showed up at my office.

"Steve, I think this thing between you and my daughter has gotten way out of hand. She says she is going to talk to a lawyer if you don't put the money back."

"Doug, she does that, I'll make sure I spend every red cent of it on shit she'll never be able to get the money back from. Doug, I asked—no, I fucking pleaded with her to talk to me, but she choose not to."

"She says you cheated on her. You didn't, did you?"

"Yes and no," I replied, and then gave him the whole story, video and all. I was getting tired of telling that story.

"Look, I see her point and I see yours, but is it worth breaking up a marriage over?'

"Well, duh. That's what I've been trying to avoid, but Kate still isn't budging. She says I don't understand what I put her through, how about what she's putting us through? She doesn't believe me the way it happened even after I showed her on the computer it is possible. She's ready to hang me out to dry rather than to see it's even possible."

"Although her mother and I don't want to get in the middle of this, cooler heads will have to prevail, if for no other reason than your two children."

"I couldn't agree with you more. It's just that Kate is hearing none of what I'm saying, and the longer this goes on the harder it's going to be to go back to the way it was before. I'm not going down without a fight, but I can only fight for just so long and then, well, you know what will happen."

"Steve, let me talk to her and see if we can come up with something you can both live with. If not, I guess it's her life and if she wants to screw it up, so be it." I was glad I had moved all the money I'd taken out of our joint account and hid it. It was the only bargaining chip I had left.

I was served with legal papers on Friday. They said I was to put back the money within twenty-four hours or I'd be put in jail. We both knew it was nothing more than an idle threat. My name was on all the accounts, and both of us knew that either one of us could pull out all the money in them. Even so, I decided to go home and call her bluff. What else could she do to me, have me shot?

I was talking with my two children in the kitchen when Kate walked through the door.

"Kids, go to your room. I need to talk to your father alone for a minute." Both looked at me like I was getting ready to walk the Green Mile.

"Steve, what did you do with all our money?" Looks like she hadn't mellowed a bit.

"Did your dad tell you what I'd do if you saw a lawyer?"

"Yes, so?"

"Well, I just came here to get the rest of my clothes, and to tell you it's all fucking gone. But if it's any consolation, I had a great time spending it."

"Steve, don't even joke about something like that. You took out over thirty-five thousand dollars. The money belonged to both of us. It was our retirement savings and part of our children's college fund."

"Kate, you and I most likely are not going to be together much longer, anyway. Hell, we're not even going through the motions anymore, and besides I probably would have lost it all in the divorce. Also, when I go into work tomorrow and give my notice there will be no alimony or child support. And, unless you can make the house payments solely on your income, more than likely the house will also have to be sold. So if you don't mind, I'll get my stuff and be out of your hair. Looks like we're both going to have a busy day tomorrow." I headed up the stairs with a box of black plastic trash bags.

She never let up while I packed what was left of my stuff. I figured I'd take everything over to my parents' house because there sure wasn't enough closet space in my motel room.

"You know I'm not kidding. I'll divorce you if you don't put back our money."

"I wouldn't put it past you, but right now I don't give a flying fuck what the hell you do." I'd finally hit my limit. I finished packing and started carrying all the bags down to my car. "Thanks for the last eleven years, three months and five days." I'd had time to add it all up—even had the number of hours if she'd asked.

"So you don't want to even try anymore? You're just going to walk out of our lives?" I finally lost it. "You really are one stupid bitch, you know that? I tried for four months to get you to at least talk to me. You constantly refused. I would have walked on hot coals to put this behind us, but you just wouldn't budge. I even tried to show you it was possible, again you wouldn't consider even meeting me halfway. By tomorrow I will be jobless, thanks to you, and on the road to who knows where. I just have no stomach for staying around here knowing my stupid ex-wife let it all slip through her fingers." With that I left.

I got fucked-up that night. I drank a six-pack of Corona and half a bottle of wine. I didn't have to work the next day, so besides getting an oil change, this town would see my backside by noon tomorrow. I think my anger was driving my actions now. Even though I thought I'd looked at everything with a clear head, I really hadn't for quite a while. Anger has a way of clouding your judgment; well, it had in my case.

When I went into work on Monday, my boss, Randy, wouldn't accept my resignation.

"Steve, relax, you've got three weeks vacation coming, take it all and call me after you get back." I told him I wasn't coming back, but he insisted that I call him when I got back. I think because no one thought I was serious, that in itself pushed me over the edge.

My parents and hers had told us to get our heads out of our asses and to sit down like two adults; it was way past that stage. I accept some of the blame just not all she was laying on me. By tomorrow night I will be a couple of hundred miles away.

Kate was sitting on the hood of my car when I checked out of the motel on Monday evening.

"Just sneaking out of town without saying goodbye to even Gary and Angie?"

"I'll call and talk to them when I get settled."

"How about us?"

"Kate, there is no more us, you saw to that."

"You're just giving up everything because you're too stubborn to admit you did something you shouldn't have? Look, here is my final offer. I'll meet you half way after you admit what you did. I'll forgive you and we pick up what's left of our marriage and move on. "

"I would if I did something wrong, except at this point what difference would it make? You'll never believe me anyway?"

"Steve, look at it from my perspective, would you have believed me if I'd come up with that story, and if you have video proof to the contrary?"

"At least I would have given you the benefit of the doubt instead of trashing an eleven year marriage." I threw my bags in the car.

"Even Kevin admitted that he fooled around with the two hookers."

"But did he remember getting a blow job when he was passed out?"

She didn't have an answer for that one.

"Unless you've experienced it first hand you'll never believe me."

"Okay, we'll do it—at home—right now."

"Kate, don't play games with me."

"Steve, I'm calling you out on this, either put up or just fucking leave."

She didn't have a clue what she was getting herself in for.

An hour later we were sitting at our kitchen table with three bottles of her favorite soda wine.

"You're going to have to drink at least two of them. Are you sure about this?"

"I'm positive, but when I prove to you I'm right, I will need you to admit you were wrong and apologize to me. Then we can decide where to go from there. Agreed?" So it began.

My dad had picked up Gary and Angie from school so no kids were present as Kate started drinking her dinner. I thought it was stupid idea but once Kate got something in her head, there was no stopping her.

The first bottle went down pretty fast, and though feeling the effects, she was far from where she was going to end up. At one and a half bottles she was beyond giddy and started to get a little sappy saying that she was sorry for being such a bitch. We weren't there yet.

At two bottles she was hammered, yet still a little coherent. We were close so bottle number three was opened. I was sipping on a Corona and munching on a slice of pizza, one of us had to stay sober if this was to work.

At two and three quarters, Kate was holding on by her fingernails. She was fighting to stay with us, but had pretty much lost her taste for the wine. She was there. Anything we did from this point on she'd never remember.

"Just chug down the last of the bottle. Then we'll see where we're at." She was looking a little green around the gills. I was praying she wouldn't get sick.

"Bottoms up," she said, drinking the last of her wine.

Shocked, is what I was. She was still awake and somewhat coherent after three bottles, now all we had left was beer. I went to the refrigerator to get her one. By the time I got back, her head was resting on the kitchen table.