Religion Can Justify Anything Ch. 02

When Steve and I arrived at Burrows office, his secretary was crying, and everyone else was very subdued.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Burrows is not in his office." She wouldn't, couldn't meet my eyes. "He's upstairs on the Executive Floor."

"Mrs. Saunders," Steve spoke in a soothing voice, "It's obvious you're having a difficult morning, but you will probably understand that my client, Mr. Riley, and I need to be seen by someone in the next few minutes."

She nodded her head, gestured toward the chairs, and struggled to say, "I'll find someone."

Twenty minutes later we were also on the Executive Floor.

Everyone was speaking in hushed tones. We could all hear loud voices coming through the door to the conference room.

"I didn't do any of this!" I'd never forget Arthur's voice.

"I don't even know how to make a website. And if I had, I certainly wouldn't have been so stupid to refer to it on a company computer or to use company email to send it."

I heard a quieter voice, one of authority, but I was unable to understand any of the words.

Three or four minutes later, the doors opened, and Arthur, Lester, Jamal, Pete and Ron walked out, followed by large men in dark suits who were obviously from the security department.

When Arthur saw me, he stopped, pointed at me and raged,

"You did this. You're behind all of it." He became enraged and started toward me, yelling obscenities and threats, but the security guys restrained him and marched him toward the elevators. "I'll get you for this Riley. I'll fuck you over just like I FUCKED your slut wife." He kept up the verbal harangue until the elevator door closed.

All motion, all sound ceased, as every eye focused on me. Including those of Charles Barney, who sighed and motioned for me to follow him back to the conference room.

There were several corporate suits surrounding the table, including Allen Burrows who slumped in his chair, not raising his eyes to look at anyone.

"Michael, while I can't prove you're behind all of this, I can't help but feel I'm being manipulated this morning."

I managed to keep a blank expression.

"Mr. Barney, I represent Mr. Riley. We resent your suggestion that Mr. Riley had anything to do with the reprehensible treatment of those poor women who were exploited by Arthur Colson and his friends. Mr. Riley is the victim here. It was he who was wronged by Mr. Burrows," he gestured toward Burrows, "and Mr. Burrows' associates. Can you imagine Mr. Riley's reaction this morning, when he read those emails, knowing of whom Arthur Colson meant when he referred to the Denver Slut? Or when he noticed that Mr. Burrows was part of this despicable treatment of women? Or what he must have felt when he realized why Mr. Burrows refused to resolve my client's issues yesterday?"

Everyone's eyes shifted to Burrows.

"While, fortunately for now at least," Steve continued, "their disgusting sexual abuse of Mr. Riley's wife is not shared with the whole world, I have in my files a CD which makes it very clear that the actions of your employees destroyed her 29 year marriage to my client."

We met with Mr. Burrows yesterday, and offered to him the opportunity to resolve this issue, but he treated my client with scorn. Had he dealt with Mr. Riley's complaint yesterday, none of those men who hurled your company into disgrace and laid you open to considerable liability would have been members of your staff today. None of the emails would have been sent."

Though I know nothing of the origins of this highly offensive website launched by one of your employees, Arthur Colson, I am anticipating that if a resolution is not reached with Mr. Riley today, before the banks close, that tomorrow your stockholders are going to be wondering why you didn't resolve his complaints today. TODAY WHILE YOU STILL CAN. Just like right now, Mr. Burrows is wondering why he didn't resolve it yesterday. When he still could."

"You knew about this yesterday, and didn't tell me?" Barney asked of Burrows. Burrows shrugged.

Two hours later we were finalizing the conditions of my settlement. When Steve insisted that Rhoda receive a lump sum settlement for $150,000, Allen Burrows finally rousted from his silent brooding to quip, "No whore's worth that much money."

Before Steve could respond, I stood up to speak for the first time, and said to all present, "My wife has had countless insults heaped on her by this company's employees; she has been used and abused. I was willing to settle for $250,000 for her in recompense, but that insult by Burrows, just cost another $50,000."

Steve was trying to get me to calm down and sit back down.

"No," I turned to him. "I insist." I looked at Charles Barney. "The cost of destroying my wife's honor has now gone up to $300,000. If you let me walk out of the door right now, it will double. When a jury sees the video of the disgusting things to which they subjected her, because they had given her the promise that her sexual favors would secure her family's financial security, they are going to give her a lot more than that!"

It was no ploy, no gamble. I was serious. Also, all those parts of the video that proved Rhoda was a slut were destroyed by Al. All that would remain after Al was finished would portray her as being the innocent victim.

I had just turned and started for the door when Charles Barney offered in a quiet voice, "Alright, Michael. $300,000."

Then he turned to Burrows. "Allen please leave before I lose all patience with you.

Michael, would you please come back to the table and sit down. Let's finish this unpleasantness and put all this behind us. I hear you want to move to San Francisco?"

***

Thursday afternoon I rang the doorbell and waited for Rhoda to open the door.

Her face was puffy and her eyes were swollen.

"Michael, thank god, you've come home. But why did you ring the doorbell? This is your house."

"Not any more," I said as I walked past her. "You've replaced me. This is Arthur's house, now. Hopefully he won't mind me getting the last of my things."

"Don't be ridiculous. This is still your house; it will always be your house. Arthur's just a guest. I talked with him after you left Sunday, and now he knows he has to respect you as the head of our family whenever he comes to... to be with me."

"I'm sorry I didn't realize that you wouldn't want to watch me make lov...have sex with Arthur. After how turned on you were last Friday night when I talked about all the naughty things I had been doing with him and I saw how aroused you became...." her face lit up remembering my response.. "I just knew Evelyn was right—that you would be turned on by me being with other men. I hadn't seen you get that turned on for years. Truly, you can't deny that it aroused you."

I stopped and looked at her face, noting the expectant expression.

"Rhoda, I visited with a psychiatrist yesterday. He helped me understand why I became "turned on" as you called it. Yes, I was physically aroused. But not because your sluttiness turned me on, but because your adulterous behavior threatened me."

I knew from her facial expression that she was lost.

"Rhoda, he explained to me that we men are hardwired with some Darwinian evolutionary response called the "race to the womb," or the "sperm race" or "semen race." When a man feels threatened that another man will impregnate his wife, his body assumes super-sexual strength to enable him to impregnate her first. That's what caused all those erections, enabled me to become multiply orgasmic. He told me that many men allow their wives to have other lovers for that purpose. It's exponentially more powerful than Viagra."

"Then why can't you accept that, Michael, and enjoy it with me. You loved it."

"No Rhoda, I wasn't loving it! I was hating how you were making me feel. My body responded from the deepest most primitive part of my brain to lay claim to what was MINE! Your body was supposed to be mine. Mine exclusively. When you offered Arthur what you had promised only to me, then yes, my body responded to the threat."

I shook my head and walked past her. I had only take a few steps when she changed tack.

"Michael, I've been frantic trying to find you. It was cruel of you to leave me worried about you. For four days I haven't known where you were. Haven't been able to talk to you, to tell you to come home." She chattered after me, as she followed me through the house, from room to room, as I gathered a few odds and ends I needed. "Why haven't you answered your phone? I have been sick with worry about you."

"Rhoda, you know I called all the kids. I told them all I was okay, and that you and I were having some problems."

"I know! That's another thing. How could you do that to me? They all called me, wanting to know why you weren't home. It was embarrassing for me, having the kids know we're having problems. It was very hard for me, trying to explain."

I turned to look at her, "And how did you 'explain' to them that you were fucking around on me."

"I just told them the truth. That you had over reacted to something and that I was doing everything I could to get you to come home."

Before I got a chance to respond to her statement that I had "over reacted," a cross tone entered her voice as she spluttered,

"And then when I called your office Tuesday they told me that you had resigned! Resigned! I was shocked. I couldn't believe my ears. Michael, how could you do that to me? After all I did to help you get your new job? Then you just threw it all away? Everything we've been working for? You just threw it all away."

That stopped me. "Rhoda, I wasn't the one who threw everything away. You were."

That stopped her. "Michael, won't you please sit down and talk to me? You're upsetting Hailey."

Hailey was trailing after Rhoda, crying and trying to get her mother's attention, confused by how radically her world had altered from one of deep and abiding love between her parents to one filled with anger and heartache. Looking at Hailey brought to my mind the phrase, "collateral damage." Her world would never be the same. Because her mother had to fuck other men. It just broke my heart.

"Rhoda, I hope you're happy with your new life. Happy with the results of your choices. Because I'm sure not, and I doubt that Hailey will be happy either."

"What do you mean, Michael? My choices? You're the one who just upped and quit their job."

I almost corrected her grammar, pointing out that "their job" should be "his job." I had never thought to correct her speech or grammar before, honoring her decision not to advance beyond high school. But now she was spouting other people's words and complex phrases as her own, when she couldn't express her own ideas well.

Instead, I offered, "Yes, and you're the one who just upped and fucked other men, and threw away her marriage."

"I didn't throw away our marriage, Michael. Evelyn promised me that expanding my horizons would strengthen our marriage."

'Expanding her horizons.' I just shook my head.

"Well, Michael, what are we going to do for money? Now that you've quit your job? You've made a fool of me by turning your back on everything I've done for us, for our future."

She was so intent on talking with me that she didn't even register me opening the cabinet and pulling out the video camera.

"What I mean Rhoda, is that I'm moving to San Francisco to work in our office there."

I'd gotten her attention. She was speechless.

I continued. "What I mean is that when I told you that I didn't need the job that you fucked Arthur to get for me, I really meant it when I said that I didn't need that job. You just wouldn't listen."

"But, Michael, how could you do that without asking me. You had no right to make such an important decision without talking with me about it first."

That stopped me. Again.

"Rhoda, you had no right to open our marriage and fuck other men without talking with me about that."

"But I did talk with you."

"NO YOU DIDN'T TALK WITH ME! YOU GAVE ME A FUCKING ULTIMATUM."

She blanched and stepped back. I had never yelled at her before. Not once in 29 years.

"Rhoda, I can't talk to you with Evelyn here."

She looked confused and turned around as though she expected to see Evelyn standing behind her.

"Rhoda, I hadn't realized it until Saturday night, but Evelyn has been with us, between us, dividing us, ever since we moved here. She's been in your mind, in our bed, telling you that you were too good for me, that I didn't deserve you, that you needed to enjoy yourself, that I owed it to you to let you 'express yourself' and allow your 'repressed feelings to manifest themselves.'"

"She got you to go to her sex toy parties then convinced you to start watching porn videos of young guys with big cocks fucking older women. I know for sure that you started masturbating over a year ago. Something you had steadfastly refused to do for me."

I paused. Rhoda started sniffing back her tears.

"Evelyn has been undermining our marriage for years, encouraging you to explore yourself, while shutting me out. And somehow, she's convinced you that the Bible supported all of this. Isn't what you've been doing clearly condemned by the Bible? How could she, how could you, use religion, the Holy Bible, to excuse, to JUSTIFY adultery, sodomy, infidelity, lying, cheating, and breaking your vows. You know, the vows you took when you promised before god and all assembled to forsake all others?"

I stopped and tried to gather my anger, to dampen my rage. We both were quiet, she crying, I taking deep breaths.

It was Rhoda who broke the silence. "I guess I maybe shouldn't have let her influence me."

"Yeah. She probably wasn't such a good role model for you. Do you remember all the times you told the kids not to listen to anyone who told them it was alright to do something that they knew was wrong?"

Rhoda choked back the sobs, as she wiped away the tears.

"Well, she's won. But look on the bright side: now you have all the freedom in the world to explore all the horizons you can find."

I turned away, and was packing my last bag when Rhoda said, "Michael, I don't want to move to San Francisco."

She didn't get it. Any of it.

"Rhoda, I didn't say 'we' were moving to San Francisco. I told you that I'm moving to San Francisco."

She managed to control her crying long enough to ask, in an annoyed tone, "And just when were you planning to have me come join you?"

I took a deep breath, looked at the woman I had loved since I was 16 and to whom I had been married for 29 years as she tried to comfort our weeping child.

"Rhoda, you're not coming with me."

She looked at me, clearly confused.

Then I said the words I'd never dreamed I would say, "I'm divorcing you, Rhoda."

I immediately regretted saying those words while Rhoda was still standing. I quickly grabbed her arms and guided her toward the bed as she began to collapse.

Her eyes were as wide as I had ever seen them. Even wider than when Arthur had told her it was time to take off her clothes.

"You're divorcing me?" Her voice was faint, almost childlike. "But Evelyn told me you would love me even more. That our marriage would be stronger than ever."

"Well, I hope you're happy with Evelyn. She and her ideas are clearly more important to you than I am."

I knelt before a shell shocked Rhoda.

"I put the divorce papers on the table in the kitchen. I've been more than fair with you. In fact, I've secured a substantial sum from my company for what Arthur did to us. You'll receive it once you've signed the divorce papers. I've also left you a list of names of some good attorneys. Anyone of them will represent you well."

"Maybe Evelyn could tell you which one would be best."

Rhoda and I both cringed at my cheap shot.

This was truly a new me.