Sally's Trip to the Theater

Believe me I've grown to love Denver. I was born and raised back east, actually about fifty miles north of Baltimore, Maryland up in central Pennsylvania. I love the Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania region, but believe me it's not like Colorado. Imagine more than two hundred and fifty days of sunshine, skiing in the winter on 'real' mountains, and the canoeing, swimming, hiking, and fishing all summer. There's no place like it; I mean it's a great place to live, a great place to raise a family. Sally and I had picked the perfect city. We'd even started a list of names for our kids. Now it looked like it might be all gone to hell.

Why had she done what she did? What the fuck was wrong with her? Sure I'd missed the fucking play. So what! She'd missed shit too.

Sally had grown up in Waynesboro. I remember once one of her sisters had a baby shower or something for another one of her fucking relatives. My boss had arranged a big party for work that same weekend. I wanted to take Sally, sort of show her off. Sure she was mousy, but she was my fucking mouse. See here, she could really be kind of cute, I mean in an impish sort of way. Well I always thought so. Sally wouldn't hear it; she had to fly back to some shit-ass shower so she could spend a whole day waiting on her fucking siblings. I didn't like it, but I didn't go out and fuck my boss's secretary to get even!

I dropped my shit in the motel room and found the nearest restaurant. I ordered their lasagna and a bottle of my favorite beer. The lasagna tasted like ketchup and the beer was flat and warm. I wanted to cry, just cry. I wanted to forgive her. I wanted to pretend I hadn't seen what I'd seen, but her head bobbing up and down, just up and down, over and over. God damn how I hated her for that.

God damn her. Imagine Kathleen Woodiwiss, Rosemary Rogers. I don't even know why I ever asked her out. I do remember she had so many books she could hardly carry them so I asked if could help. I remember the look on her face. She'd gotten scared when I offered. I remember I had to say something to calm her down. I think I said something like, "I just mean I'd like to help you with your books. I'm not the big bad wolf," I recall how she pretended to laugh. I talked her into a cup of coffee at the Starbucks across from the library. From there, I don't know. I guess I asked her out. I remember we went to a dinner theater. I brought along a bottle of Jim Beam. I was a bourbon man back then. She enjoyed the food and the entertainment but wouldn't take a drink.

Was I ever stupid? Fred Mertz was right. I always had my choice when it came to women. Geez Sally was such a homely little scamp. But there was just something about her; it was like she needed to be protected. She's nearly a foot smaller than me; it's almost been like she was my child. No I don't mean a real child, more like some innocent kid. She was a virgin too. She was a virgin the night I took her. We weren't married yet, but we were engaged.

Why am I torturing myself like this? She chose that Sam guy. Maybe I should punch him in the nose. No, he did what he did because he's a man. I can't blame him. She made her bed, now she can lie in it. Fuck her. But why did she do it? Christ she's not stupid, and I'm no needle dick. I went back to my new domicile, a shitty little motel room off the Interstate. What was I going to do next?

~~-v-~~

The next morning I got up and went to the motel's breakfast nook. I picked up a Danish, a fresh cup of coffee, and sidled my way out to my car where I opened the trunk and flipped up my cell phone. There were a lot messages on it, more than I could count, all from Sally. I closed it back up, turned it off, and tossed it back in the trunk.

The next couple days were a blur as I just sort of hung out, got pissed, drank Scotch, and felt sorry for myself. By the end of the week I decided to change of my life again.

My first stop was a Walmart where I bought some inexpensive underwear, boxers for me, a new toothbrush and more shaving equipment. I thought about growing a mustache. I also picked up a couple pairs of jeans. Usually I bought Levis, but this time I bought Lee jeans. Lees came in several colors other than blue and black. I picked up a couple tan and one dark green pair. I'd never worn anything like that and thought it would be kind of neat. I also grabbed a few black Tee shirts. All my life I'd worn those cotton shirts with the fake collars, everyone knows about them, the ones that have the fucking alligator on them. They'd only been invented because golf courses insisted men wear shirts with collars. Hell I never liked golf, and I always felt stupid in those shirts.

Don't get me wrong. I play golf. I'm good too, but I only play because that's where so many deals are made.

Today I got what I liked. I also snatched a couple pairs of real work shoes and a couple bundles of white socks. That's right; I was fucking tired of buying overpriced tennis shoes. I decided if I never put on another pair of wing tipped shoes that was all right with me. I liked loafers; loafers without the tassels. I made my mind up right then and there I wasn't wearing anymore sweat pants, speedos, or any more of those phony high priced kinds of things, not any more.

I loaded what I bought and headed back to our house. Today was Saturday, and I usually worked in the yard on Saturdays. I liked yard work, always did.

I got home; I rummaged through my bags of shit till I found the things I wanted to wear. By the time I was ready Sally was at the front door.

Sally stood just outside the door, she chirped, "I called, but..."

She always talked and acted chirpy, like a little sparrow; especially when she wanted to be extra nice. Usually I enjoyed it, I mean the sound of her voice and the way she'd sort of flit around me, like a little bird she was. I recall I hadn't seen much of that lately.

I brushed past her and went straight for the first floor bathroom. Sally followed me. I noticed the chirpy sparrow had been replaced; she'd become the helpless fawn, "John can we talk?"

I ignored her.

"I just put on a fresh pot of coffee."

"No thanks already had some."

"Want me to fix you some breakfast?"

"Not hungry," I noticed she was shifting from foot to foot like she had to pee.

"I can fry up some eggs..."

She wasn't wearing a bra and her little boobs were pressing against the thin material of the romper she had on. They kind of bounced when she talked. I didn't think she had any panties on either, because she had a little 'wedgy' up the front of her crease.

I said, "Sorry, already ate," I stepped from the bathroom in my new jeans, black Tee shirt, brown work shoes and white socks. Of course no one would see the socks as the jeans were crumpled down over the shoes.

Sally looked at me, "John you look so...so...so handsome. I've never seen you like..."

I pushed by her, "Sorry, I need to get to the lawn."

Sally followed me out. From the corner of my eye I could see her tears. I almost caved. She said, "John please..."

I kept walking toward the shed in the backyard. She kept following, "John I quit my job."

That stopped me. I turned around, "You what?"

"I quit my job."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Oh John I hated my job," she held her arms out and started toward me

I put my hands up, "Stay away; don't get near me."

Sally abruptly stopped. She put her left hand to her lips. They started to quiver, "John...I."

I pointed to the kitchen door, "Go inside. I've got things to do. I'll be in for lunch."

Sally tried to smile but I could see she couldn't quite make it work. She said, "What can I fix you for lunch?"

I felt like shit. I wanted so much to just go to her, take her in my arms, and kiss the living shit out of her, but then, that guy Sam, what I saw...I regained control, "Just a sandwich, maybe some chips."

Sally nodded at me like I'd just given her a new Jaguar, I'd bought the Mustang for her by the way; then she ran back in the house.

I spent the morning riding my John Deere and thinking up ways I could punish her. The Deere ran fine, but my mind was running amuck. I guess it was about 10:00 a.m. I saw Sally pull away in her Mustang. I never thought a thing of it until about an hour later a cab pulled up in front of the house. I glanced over as Sally got out. She came back to where I was.

"John?"

I turned off the Deere and got off, "Yes, what?"

"I tried to use my credit cards and they wouldn't work. I tried to get home but ran out of gas. My cell phone wouldn't work either so I had to walk to a gas station and use their pay phone. They were mean and wouldn't lend me a gas can. John did you cancel my cards and my phone?"

I remember the other day doing just that. At the time I thought it would be great. I figured she'd get mad; she'd be her 'newer' bitchy self and yell and holler. Now I was looking at the 'old' Sally. She just looked hurt and scared.

I replied, "Well yeah."

She started to cry, "John I have food in my car. I bought you ice cream."

Fuck! I brushed the grass off my pants, "Come on I'll drive you to your car." I grabbed the still half full gas can, and we both climbed in my Lexus and started down the driveway, "Where are you parked?"

"I had to leave it in the street. I'm sorry. I ran out of gas."

"Shit," I said, "You're sorry. I know you're sorry. You're one sorry fucking woman; one sorry assed fucking excuse for a wife, a real piece of shit, a worthless sorry assed piece of no good dishonest, lying, cheating hunk of gooey green shit. You shouldn't be driving it anyway. I cancelled your insurance," I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she collapsed.

Sally dropped her head in her hands and started crying, "John I saw there was a letter from some lawyer in the mail this morning. It said something about 'domestic' stuff on the envelope. I didn't open it though. Honest I didn't," she leaned around, reached over the console, and put her hands on my right thigh, "John please...I didn't...I mean...oh I know...John can't we talk?"

I kept driving. I said, Fuck you and no!" I was listening though. I kept wondering, why'd the fuck did she do it?

Sally's lower lip was all over the place. Her eyes were spilling water like Niagara Falls. Her cheeks and face were puffy and red. Finally she said, "John please can't we just talk? John I'm so sorry. Please can't we talk?"

I pulled to the side of the road, "Listen Sally. Let's get your car, and go back home. You can fix lunch, and I'll think about it."

She managed to stop crying, "OK John, anything you say, and John...you know I love you..."

I thought, yeah right. We drove on, got her car, I dumped in a gallon of gas, and we sneaked it back to our house without being pulled over. I went back to the yard and restarted the lawn tractor. Sally went in and fixed lunch. While I rode around on my Deere I more or less made up my mind what I was going to do. I'd tell Sally when I went in for lunch.

Sally came out about forty minutes later. She waved at me. I rode my Deere up to the back porch, turned it off, got off, climbed the three steps to the porch and followed her inside. When I got in I saw she'd made each of us a BLT, and she'd purchased several kinds of chips. I sat down. She handed me a tall glass of iced tea. It was one of the things we'd agreed to long ago. Whenever I was using yard machinery, whether it was the mower, weed whacker, chain saw or whatever I wouldn't drink anything alcoholic.

We both sat down at the table. Sally folded her hands to say grace; I thought about that, church and things like grace had been things we'd stopped doing. She said grace, and then we quietly ate.

After I finished my BLT Sally started to say something, but I held up my hand to stop her, "No, I have something to say."

Sally put her sandwich down; she folded her hands in her lap, and kind of looked down. I thought she looked really pretty; more like my 'old Sally'. I started, "I'm really mad at you."

She looked up at me with those big brown cow eyes of hers. I wondered if she knew how pretty I thought she was. I wondered if I told her anything like that lately. I couldn't remember when the last time was I had. I know I'd been working really hard. We'd been on a hugely important job; a contract we'd been working on for months, a contract that was vitally important for our company's success. Had I been neglecting her? I thought she knew how I felt. Crap, what difference did it make? I saw how much she thought of me.

Well I knew what she did sure wasn't my fault. I went on, "Like I said you've made me really mad. You really hurt me." I could see she understood. I could see it in her eyes and in her demeanor, "Sally I've just about given up on us. I mean there's not much you could have done that would have been worse. And yes I went to see a lawyer. We talked. I honestly don't know. He said some things. Mostly he said to go slow and stay calm," Of course, he hadn't really, but she sure didn't know that.

I went on, "Right now I've taken a room someplace. When I finish the lawn I'll be leaving, but I'll be back Monday evening. Maybe by Monday I'll have come to some sort of decision. Meanwhile you stay home. I'll reinstate your car insurance Monday. About the credit cards; you'll have enough money in the checking for now, but if I decide to move on you'll need to get your own cards," I paused and then continued, "I'll do this for you. I'll stop back Monday night. You'll be able to say what you want then, but don't count on anything. Face it Sally; you fucked up. I don't see much hope here."

I watched her as she clenched and unclenched her hands. I didn't know who I was watching; was it my old girl or was it the new bitch? Well one way or the other. I got up, went back outside, finished the lawn, parked my Deere in the shed, and left.

~~-v-~~

I had a lot on my mind as I drove back to my motel room. Mertz had made it pretty clear divorce was a costly option; it would cost money, but there were emotional costs too. I was conflicted; my pride told me one thing, but my heart said another.

I'd been scrupulously faithful to Sally throughout our entire marriage. Oh I had my chances, gee did I have the opportunities, but I'd never given in. I'd never succumbed. Sally on the other hand had; she'd jumped that Sam guy right off the bat. Had it been right off the bat? I wondered. I could still see her head bouncing up and down, her feet in the air, and the needle dick remark. Well shit I could throw the needle dick thing right out. I didn't really know how big I was, or how big anybody else was for that matter, but I knew I was more than enough for Sally.

Sally, she was tiny; her little tunnel was narrow and short. I'd always been careful about that; I mean about not hurting her, her cervix was so close to the front. It would have been easy to really hurt her. Of course, I'd never do anything like that. I mean I knew I could really ram it home, really pound it in, but why do something like that? There'd been women, other women, women I'd known before Sally. Yeah there were women who could take everything I had, but not Sally.

I wondered; had I been too gentle? I always figured her to be kind of delicate, sort of fragile. She sure wasn't acting fragile with old Sammy boy was she? That thought gave me pause. Sally was always so tight, but over the phone old Sammy boy was sliding in and out like she was the Holland Tunnel. Oh yeah, I knew who the real needle dick was; yeah, Sammy the bug fucker, ha ha. The bitch! Shit, if we ever had kids that'd be something. I can imagine a nine pound baby barreling down through that thin little tube.

I called out sick Monday morning. Mellisa got the phone and laughed. I guess she figured Sally and I had really torn one open. That was another thing that occurred to me. I think Mellisa had only met Sally one time. In fact I was sure of it. Come to mind; whenever my office had a function, a party, a barbecue, even just a little get together Sally found a way to beg off. I think Sally had been to only one activity, and that had been like some years ago? Why didn't she ever want go? She never really said. I wondered.

By Monday afternoon I not only was ready to listen to Sally, but I had a few questions of my own, and not just questions about her and that guy Sam. There were other things. I really wondered why she did it. I wondered why I even cared.

~~-v-~~

I slipped on a pair of my new jeans, another black Tee shirt, my work shoes, and drove home. I'd been checking the Internet, and I'd been reading about how other men felt when they'd caught their wives cheating. I had to admit I had many of those same feelings. I mean it was something of an ego hit, a big hit actually, and my trust in Sally was on the table or more realistically not so much on the table as in the toilet.

Yeah, the trust thing; that was big, real big. At first, because of the Sam thing I had started to have doubts about her fidelity before this Sam, but, except for the bitchiness of the last few months, I just didn't see any other signs. Sally had always been timid about sex, and that timidity hadn't changed one way or the other. I respected that, besides I'd been away so much the last few months I didn't know if I could make a real judgment. I know she hated it when I had to leave town, but there was the big contract. I wasn't making any sense, and I knew it.

But another thing was the promises we'd made. We'd promised to be loyal to each other. I'd been loyal; it was Sally who'd crossed the line. Could I forgive that? I didn't know. It was a big thing; maybe the biggest thing.

I guessed shit, fuck that, I knew what the biggest thing was, it was what I saw. I mean her head bobbing up and down, up and down, and her feet up in the air. I'd been lying in bed and replaying it, over and over and over again. I think what was just as bad, no worse actually was when she took the back of her hand and wiped his semen off her face. Well at least she didn't lick it off her hand. I wasn't sure about that though; she hadn't, had she? Those things, the visual things; they made me physically sick. I doubted if I'd ever get over them. I wished she hadn't gotten in the back of his car when they were in front of our house. Gee, if only she fought him off a little more. Yeah it was the things I saw that hurt the most.

There was one thing I read that didn't hit me. Other men said they'd stopped thinking of their house as being theirs anymore. I guess it was mostly those men who'd seen something inside their house.

As I pulled up to my house I knew I still thought of it as my home. We'd been married a while, but we'd only been in the house about three years. It was a starter home for us. I loved it of course; everything in it was ours, and ours really for the first time. I used to laugh and tell my colleagues that everywhere I looked I saw something that needed to be fixed. I mean there was a broken bi-fold door on the linen closet, the cracks in the driveway macadam, the fact that some prior owner had painted some of the windows so they wouldn't open anymore. These were things I could fix; things I wanted to fix. Gee I wished I had more free time.

I pulled in the drive, got out of the car, went up the walk, and let myself in. Sally was in the kitchen fixing dinner. I'd completely forgotten about that possibility, and I'd picked up something at a fast food place and ate it on the way over. I hoped I had enough room for what Sally was making; it looked like she was broiling steaks. Damn I loved a good steak smothered in onions, and Sally knew just how I liked them. She was a good cook, a terrific cook.

She had a real domestic bent. That was something; I knew she'd make a great mom someday. I wondered; if I stayed would they even be my kids? I just didn't know. Could I ever trust her again?