Insanity Plea

"Our son," I corrected.

"Yes, unfortunately for Andy and me."

I was peeved, and about to retaliate with much venom, when I happened to glance at Andy. He was trying bravely not to cry, but I could see how much mine and Lori's arguing was hurting him, so I caged my brutal retaliation.

I instead pointedly ignored her, squatting down in front of Andy, "Hey, champ, you be good, okay? I'll see you in two weeks. I love you, little buddy."

He hugged me, clutching a little desperately for a moment, making me wonder just how much he even wanted to see his mother, let alone spend two weeks with her. But finally, he let go and got into the back of Lori's car.

Lori appeared to have something to say about my ignoring her, but I cut her off, hissing, "Not in front of Andy, damn you. He doesn't need to hear this."

"As if you are any authority on parenting," she spat, but her voice did lower considerably, "Just so you know, I'm petitioning the court for full custody. Andy doesn't need such a bad influence around him, polluting his mind."

"You bitch, you just try it," I warned, "I'll make sure you look like an evil kid-mill pit boss before it's all said and done. Andy needs his father."

"Oh, he'll have a father, much better than you, which isn't all that hard to accomplish."

"You mean the bastards you've been shacking up with? There's a good lot! I suppose whatever asshole you're screwing will have him hooked on Crack in a year."

I felt a bit low for all this, but, if you'd ever met Lori, you'd realize that she inspires this kind of reaction from a lot of people.

She looked an inch from swinging at me, "You don't want to fuck with me, Chris, you don't dare!"

I kept my voice low, "The only good that came of me fucking you is Andy. I regret everything else we had. Now get out of here, and you'd better think long and hard about what you're talking about. You aren't the only one with aces up your sleeve. Drive carefully, now. You're driving for two."

I walked back up to my front door, hoping that she wouldn't end up wrapping herself and Andy around a tree. Not that I'd particularly mourn her passing, but Andy's passing would crush me completely.

As she drove away, too fast for this neighborhood I decided, I prayed for Andy's mental and physical health. Before I could go inside to vent my anger, I felt somebody's presence behind me. I turned to find Ellie there, her face pale, her eyes moist.

"I take it you heard all that," I said quietly.

"It was so awful," she said just above a whisper, "Is she always like that?"

"She wasn't at first. Maybe I just brought out the worst in her."

"I don't believe that, Mr. Reid. I just don't believe that at all."

"So," I asked, "What brings you?"

"I forgot my purse here," she looked at the bricks of the front step of my house, "I didn't even realize it until I got home, but then it was too late."

"Okay, come on in."

She looked around, and saw her purse, a small, black bag with pink stitches.

"There it is," she picked it up. Then she looked at me, seeing what was obviously a depressed man, "Do you think she'll try and take full custody?"

"I really hope she doesn't. She's got a pretty good chance of getting him, just on the fact that she's his mother."

"But she's so...horrible, threatening you like that. You're such a good father to him, and it's obvious that Andy thinks so too. He talks about you all the time when I'm watching him."

That brightened my gloom a little. Andy was such a good kid, and brave, too. Any father would be proud to have a kid like him.

"Oh yeah?" I mused.

"Absolutely," she beamed, "You should see how much he looks up to you."

She had already found her purse, but seemed reluctant to go. Not feeling like being in the house alone, I invited her in for a drink, and she agreed happily. We sat at the counter, side by side facing the center island, drinking a couple of sodas.

"Mr. Reid," she started, and I put up a hand to halt her.

"Call me Chris."

"Okay...Chris...well, I wanted to thank you again. It was really nice having someone to talk to, someone who really understands the pressure I've been under."

She came forward unexpectedly and slid her arms around me, hugging me tightly against her. I was overly aware of her body, fit and so feminine, pressed against mine, and when she pulled away, she was blushing as if she hadn't expected it either, though she had initiated it.

"I've got to go," she said quietly, "I've got some errands to run, and maybe a party. But let me know when you need me to watch Andy. You still have my number, right?"

I nodded, "I've got it. And Ellie?"

She looked at me expectantly.

"Regarding what we talked about before... if and when you finally decide to... make sure it's what you want to do, and not what others want you to do. Okay?"

"I will. Thanks, Mr. Re-... I mean, Chris."

I watched her leave, aware that instead of shorts, she was wearing a skirt that was slightly shorter than the shorts she had been wearing the night before last, and in the daylight, her legs looked even smoother and softer, yet still firm. And though her skirt wasn't exactly form-fitted, I could see the impression of a round, very well developed butt under it. As if aware of the feeling of being watched, she turned slightly, looking directly back at me, and I hurriedly nodded, concentrating on the bottle of soda in my hand. Still, out of the corner of my eye, I could see the smile on her face, and I realized that she'd picked that outfit just to get my attention. Apparently it had worked.

"I'll see you later, okay?" she continued to smile as she left.

The house was silent without the sound of Andy's cartoons, or his laughter. In fact, with his presence elsewhere, the house seemed...empty, as if it had been abandoned. In an almost panicked gesture, I turned the radio on in the kitchen, setting it to a classic rock station just to dispel the depressing gloom. Then, as I waited for the commercials to end, and the music to play, I kept expecting Andy to walk into the kitchen and ask what I was doing, only to realize that he had in fact left about twenty minutes ago. Suddenly, unbidden, the image of Ellie in the bathroom played in my mind, and equally unbidden, it continued to play into some kind of fantasy where, instead of hurrying away, I proceeded to walk into the bathroom, drop to my knees, and begin to pleasure her as she clutched my head, pressing it against her in a lustful way. Then I stood up, turned her around, bent her over, and slid my erection deep inside her to give her the best first time anyone has ever given.

Against my better judgment, I let the fantasy progress, and didn't even wonder how absurd I must've looked, clutching a half-empty bottle of soda, a major tent pitching on the front of my jeans, breathing like I was having an asthma attack. I had to take care of this before I passed out or something. I put the bottle down, went upstairs to the bathroom, and had to relieve myself into a wad of toilet paper. Yeah, it wasn't one of my prouder moments, I must admit, but it was probably one of my more relieving sessions. Either way, sated for the moment and free of that particular fantasy. I flushed the soiled wad of toilet paper and zipped my pants back up. I needed to get out of the house for a bit, and as I walked down the stairs, I decided that I would go shopping for things for Andy. Newly motivated, I grabbed my keys and wallet and left.

I spent most of the day at different stores, looking around and browsing through aisles. I happened to find several DVD's of cartoons and animated movies, which I bought for him. I debated with myself about getting a pretty cool looking game system, and decided against it for the time being. I figured that I'd just bring him there myself once I had him back and surprise him with it. After that, I couldn't figure out anything else to do until I passed by a restaurant and my stomach demanded to be fed. I turned around and stopped at the restaurant to eat. The aromas of several different dishes caught my nose as I walked in, and the hostess, a brunette of about twenty-something (way closer to my own age), found me a table. She smiled as I thanked her, and disappeared around a corner.

When the waitress showed up, a slightly overweight, but still attractive woman with red hair took my order and snatched up my menu with a flourish, her wide hips swinging as she went to fill my order. I sat at the table, achiningly aware that I was there alone. I'd been married to Lori for about five years, plenty long enough to realize that the sweet, thoughtful Lori I'd married was not the real thing. In reality, about a week after the vows were made, the switch began. It started out small, irritations with some of my less scrupulous habits, arguments about my job, which then had been a security firm. She couldn't stand my long hours, and made that unmistakably aware. From there, it progressed to my lack of ambition.

"You could easily be a manager by now," she would say, "I just don't understand why you're okay with where you are. You could be a boss."

"I don't need to be anyone's boss," I'd reply, "In fact, there's a whole lot more stress involved with being a boss that isn't worth the pay increase."

"But you could be making more money, and I wouldn't have to work at my shitty job anymore."

I would inquire as to why her job as an assistant manager of a salon was so shitty, and it would only get worse from there. Then, it became my eating habits. It wasn't really how much I was eating, but what I was eating. That began her health food kick. She literally threw out most of the food in the fridge and pantry, replacing it with some really odd stuff that regularly tasted as bad as it looked. I began eating at home less, which only pissed her off more. She would rant and rave that I'd be dead by thirty if I kept on eating "that processed, greasy, toxic junk." Our sex life hadn't visibly suffered yet until the end of the third year. She got in the habit of claiming she was exhausted once she'd gotten hers, and I'd be left there, so damn horny it hurt, and a sore pair of balls that I'd have to relieve by myself.

I resorted to bringing home porn movies to make it easier for me, and she about hit the ceiling over it, claiming that it demeans and perverts women and that my bringing it home meant that I'd rather watch porn than be with her. So, to appease her, I threw out the porn. That same night, we were having sex, and I happened to come at the same time as her. She apparently had not expected that, and she was near-screaming at me as she attempted to use the detachable showerhead to wash my spend from inside her.

"I can't believe you fucking did that, you asshole!" she snapped, "I haven't been taking my damn pills because they fuck with my periods, and you pick now to shoot your stuff in me?"

It happened to only take that one time for her to get pregnant. On my behalf, I tried to keep things sane while she bitched constantly as her moods became worse. By the time Andy was born, I was praying that his birth would calm her down, that maybe she'd be too focused on him to even think about me. I was wrong. For the remaining four years, Andy was the reason I held onto the marriage, but it must've been hell for him. When he was two, he almost drowned in the bathtub. According to Lori, that was my fault, though I was at work, since I had called to let her know that I was going to be working late that night. That call would've lasted only a minute, but she decided to mount a long argument about how my priorities should change, meaning I should be home more for Andy. The argument lasted almost five minutes longer than it should've, and she hadn't even mentioned that Andy was in the tub yet, until she used him as a reason for me to be home. She dropped the phone then, and I suddenly heard screams over the phone and raced home.

She managed to get him breathing again while I drove home like a madman, and he was wrapped up in a blanket on the couch when I raced through the door.

"If I'd had to rely on you, he would be dead now," was Lori's greeting for me.

"You're the stupid bitch who left him alone in the tub!" I cried indignantly.

"Yes, to answer your call. If you hadn't insisted on staying at work late, you wouldn't have had to call me. It's your fault this happened."

"If you hadn't turned a minute-long conversation into a five minute argument, this wouldn't have happened. Are the paramedics on the way to take him to the hospital?"

"I didn't call the paramedics. I'm the one who got him breathing."

"Yes," I gritted my teeth, "But he needs to be seen by a doctor."

"He's fine now, no thanks to you."

"I'll bet you didn't call because you know it's your fault for leaving him there. You're so worried about looking like the bad mother that you refuse to get him medical help."

It went on and on, and I tried to keep us together for Andy's sake, but I knew it had to be just short of unbearable for him, so one sunny morning, after quite a restless night of contemplation, I told Lori that I wanted a divorce. The divorce itself went pretty smoothly until it came to Andy. Both of us wanted sole custody of him, but I knew from the accounts of others that in these cases the mother usually ended up with the custody. Of course, I was surprised when Lori suggested to both our lawyers that we share custody. At least, at first I was surprised. Then I figured that if she tried for sole custody I might bring up one specific night when Andy was only two.

The waitress arrived with my food, breaking my hold of those not so sweet memories, and I thanked her. While I dug into my carne asada fajita, I wondered what had changed Lori's mind about applying for sole custody now. Perhaps it was a selective memory that had her convinced that she would win. I would keep quiet unless she tried to go through with it. Looking back on our marriage, or more specifically, on the period before, while we were still dating, I could see little telltale signs, barely noticeable now, unnoticed back then. How could I have not known who she really was before I married her? Was she that good of an actor?

The two weeks dragged by, as if time had slowed down just to extend my misery in some sick, cosmic joke of which I was the butt. But on that particular Sunday, I was actually happy to see Lori's Charger pull up, but happiest to see Andy jump out of the car.

"Hey Dad!" he raced over to me, and I picked him up, conscious of, but ignoring the twin laser beams of hatred and jealousy that burned into my back, courtesy of Lori.

"Hey, kiddo," I was also aware of how much thinner Andy was. Just what had Lori been feeding him?

Lori finally put the car in park and got out. I urged Andy to go on inside.

I wasn't stupid enough to expect a "How do you do?" from her, and I didn't get one in any form.

"I see you've brainwashed him to hate me," she seethed.

"I didn't brainwash him to do anything. Maybe he just doesn't like eating oats and tofu from a feedbag."

Ignoring my reply, she continued, "I'd just bet that if he were asked, he'd say he would rather live with you. You know what? I don't care anymore. I don't even want that ungrateful, spoiled little shit under my roof."

I was fully tired of this argument, knowing where and how far it would progress, so I held my hand up, "You know, I really don't care what insane fantasy you've concocted in that malnourished brain of yours, but if you insist on yelling at me, I'd just as soon go inside. I'm sure Andy's hungry, and he could use a sandwich. You have a nice life, and let me know what you decide."

With that, I left her sputtering at my door, closing it in her face. Seconds later, I heard her car door slam, her engine start up with a scream, and the screech of her tires as she backed out of my driveway. Once I heard her engine fade, I backed away from the door and went to see what Andy was up to.

It was quite amusing to see a six-year-old so interested in my love life, or lack thereof. Within two days of his return, he insisted I go on a date. I told him that going on a date required a lady-friend to go on the date with. As he puzzled it out in his head, my mind invariably returned to Ellie, the swish of her skirt as she walked away, her look that said that she knew what I was looking at, and that she wanted me to look. I began wondering in a fit of morality if I shouldn't just fire her anyway and find her someone else to babysit for. Then there was no possible reason for her to be upset with me, because it would be the equivalent of a transfer.

Andy said something that I didn't catch, and I turned to him, "Say again?"

Andy repeated, "What about Ms. Ellie? She likes you, I think."

I blinked, "Say what? Why would you think that?"

"She talks about you, and asks me questions about you."

"Questions? What kind of questions?"

Andy grinned, "She asked me how long you been divorced, and if you date a lot, and stuff like that. You should date her."

Had she been gathering information about me? I played the morality card, "Andy, I can't date Ms. Ellie. She's only eighteen, and I'm thirty-two. She's way too young for me to date her."

"So? A lot of guys are dating younger ladies. I see it on TV all the time."

"Just because a lot of people do that, it doesn't make it right."

Andy frowned, struggling to understand, so I elaborated, "Stealing is wrong, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"And if a lot of people stole stuff, it would still be wrong."

"But you're not stealing stuff. Ms. Ellie's a grown-up, right? So you're both grown-ups, and if you wanted, you can go on a date with her. Do you think she's pretty?"

I began to wonder if Ellie hadn't put these ideas in his head. The job transfer idea seemed more like a good idea.

"Yeah, she's pretty," I allowed, "But she's still too young for me. Let's talk about something else... like what we want for dinner."

He was smart for only being six, but the change of subject worked anyway.

A week later, I met a woman at the gym. I couldn't see anything at all wrong with her, and she seemed genuinely interested in me, so I asked her on a date. When I called Ellie to let her know I needed her services, she readily agreed. Then I told her why, and her whole tone changed from cheerfulness to... I don't know...perhaps disappointment. I wasn't sure, but I could hear the difference in her voice. She still wanted the job, so she showed up.

At six-thirty in the evening a week later, the door rang, and when I answered it, I was taken aback. Ellie, who, before one fateful moment when I had caught her in the bathroom, had been more of an androgynous acquaintance, looked stunning now. Her skirt was a bit higher, and tight-fitting to show her flared hips and round butt. Her legs were quite shapely now, and her feet were fitted with a pair of mid-heel, strap-backed sandals. Her body was quite striking, and I could see that she took the time to apply a light layer of makeup.

"Uh," my tongue tied for a second before I could recompose myself, "Hi, Ellie. You're early."

She smiled, noticing my initial reaction, "It helped me escape another grueling dinner with my folks. Can I come in, Mr. Reid?"

I stepped back, and she walked past, still smiling alluringly.

Andy rushed from the living room at the sound of Ellie's voice, and stuttered to a halt once he caught sight of her.

"Ms. Ellie?" he goggled, "Is that you?"

She grinned and waved, "Who else would it be?"

"Wow!" was Andy's response, "Dad's right. You are pretty... you know, for a girl and stuff."

I had to turn away quickly, stifling a mixture of a groan and laughter.

"Thank you," Ellie curtseyed to Andy, "That's sweet of you."