Something... Talk About in Tx Ch. 01

"Got it. Now you're 'in love' with him. I understand. Thank you for that. Anything else you want to say, maybe you'd like to open my chest, tear my heart out and dance on it? Please, tell me how I'm inadequate, how I can't fulfill your needs, how I deserve to be treated like scum. I'm sure you've practiced lots of pointed little barbs to hurt me as much as you can. Have the whole damn conversation planned like the one you ambushed me with last night."

"No, Jonathan. I don't want to hurt you. I love you. You're my husband, the father of my children. My soul-mate. I'll always love you. I just need to be there for him. Can't you understand? This is important to me. To us."

"So go to him. I have no desire to be in the same house as a cheating wife who doesn't want me. Go. Please. Your presence here sickens me."

She was crying. "I know you don't mean that. You're only trying to hurt me. I know you love me, and you'll come to see what's best for all of us, for the children. I...I'm going to bring them home tomorrow. They don't need to know about the problems we're having. Nobody needs to, this is between us. I expect if we have any issues, we can take them up in private."

"And what am I supposed to say when you're spending the night at lover-boy's?"

"I don't do that. I never have, until last night, and I didn't intend to then. You scared me last night, with your drunken, loutish behavior. I thought you might hurt me. I couldn't stay here. I've never done that before. Things can be just as they have been for the last year."

"I don't think so. I guess if you're waiting until tomorrow to pick them up, it means you'll be spending the night spreading your whore legs for lover-boy again."

"Please don't call him that. He's a nice man. A good man."

"Right. The kind of man that can't find his own woman, has to steal another man's wife. So nice. So good. So honorable. Go to him, already, before I throw up."

She stood, and slowly started walking away. "I'm going to let you have some time," she said. "I understand this comes as a shock to you. I wish there'd been an easier way to say it. I love you and never wanted to hurt you."

"You could tell me it's a lie, that my loving wife really isn't a cheating slut."

"Damn it, Jonathan! I'm not a slut! I can't believe you can say that. I'm not running around on you. This isn't some tawdry affair, I love the man. You calling me names and insulting me isn't helping anything. Are you trying to force me to divorce you and destroy your life?"

"Did you love him the first time you spread your legs for him? When you broke your vows, abandoned your family and became a cheating slut. Did you love him then?"

She stood there, mouth gaping. He had a point. She remembered the guilt of that first time, coming home, crying in the shower, until the water turned cold. Telling Rich they could never do it again. She had cared for him, but love him? No, she hadn't loved him. She liked the way he made her feel, needed.

She turned and walked away, angry that he'd made her feel guilty for something that was good and right. He had needed her.

Once she'd left, he had a hard time not going back to finish whatever was left of the Jim Beam. Instead, he made a salad, ate a skinless chicken breast, and went for a long walk. It didn't make him feel any better, but at least he didn't feel any worse.

* * *

Jonathan got up with the alarm, and was at his grandfather's by 8:00 am. Treat it like just another work day.

He was surprised to find the old man's entire crew there, waiting. They were a tight knit group. On the mantle, over the fireplace, was a picture of the five of them, dressed up in their green uniforms, Eagle scouts, all. They'd been best friends their entire lives. Hard to imagine in this day and age, having four best friends you could count on, always, for over 60 years.

They had always faced trouble head-on, as a team. Jonathan was lucky to have them on his side. He was led into the dining room, where a big farm breakfast was set out. Seven place settings. Jonathan looked around again, and saw that his Uncle Len was there as well. He took his seat, and Bill's wife came out, offering coffee to those who wanted it. Behind her, Darrel's wife appeared, proudly bearing a plate of hot cakes a good eight inches high, each as wide as the plate.

Jonathan laughed. "There goes my diet," he said.

Uncle Len stabbed a couple of the hotcakes and dropped them on Jonathan's plate. "Enjoy. Trust me, working as a ranch hand is going to burn off any calories you can get in your system. You're starting at the bottom."

Along with Bill and his grandfather, two of the other men were retired. Darrel Smith had been a career Army officer, and put in another dozen years as a civilian teaching, after his retirement at 30 years as a bird Colonel. He still did the occasional substitute teaching, but not more than a few weeks a year. James Krum was another of the old German immigrants, and owned the ranch that butted up to grandpa's on the south. His two sons ran it now, but he kept his hand in, and attended all the cattle auctions religiously. A Vietnam war vet, he'd joined with Darrel, but left the service after two tours, when his older brother died, leaving him in line to get the ranch. Carl Jenkins' family owned the first market in town, and the hardware store. They'd been the well-to-do family, their livelihoods independent of the weather, the cost of feed, and the vagaries of the beef market.

Apparently they were all aware of his situation. Once the friendly chatter slowed, Bill started in. "First things first. We're behind you, 100%. I hope you don't mind, but our wives have been included in the conversation. They may be able to help with a woman's point of view. You had to know that once we got involved, there was no way of keeping them out of it."

"Not a problem, sir. I understand."

"Good. How much does your mother know?" he asked.

"Nothing, yet. I haven't told anybody but you and Grandpa."

"She needs to know. She'll be mighty pissed off to find out her father and brother were told before she was. Today, alright?"

Jonathan nodded. Not a conversation he was looking forward to.

"Fine. The bastard's name is Rich Patton. Worked as a para-legal at Bell and Richards. Apparently went back for his law degree after his wife's death. Big insurance payoff made it possible. Don't know if he's passed the bar yet. Sounds likely, though. Supposedly a pretty sharp guy and well-liked. Doesn't make him any less of a bastard.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but everyone at the law-firm seems to know of your wife's involvement. The only thing they didn't know was that she was married. Apparently she's been hiding that tiny little fact."

The ex-judge had the attention of the entire group, while they dug into their breakfast. Jonathan noticed that the four older women were standing near the kitchen listening in. Jonathan ghawed on a piece of the thick cut, apple smoked bacon.

"The only real question, before we start in, is if there's any chance at all of reconciliation. She's the mother of your children, three, under the age of 10, right?"

"Five, eight and ten," Jonathan said.

His grandfather spoke up. "Do you want her back, boy? That's the big question. Can you overlook a year of slutting around, and take her back?"

"Maximilian!" one of the women snapped. Jonathan recognized her as the Judge's wife. "You have no business calling her a slut. We haven't heard her side of the story. Don't make this any more difficult than it is."

The Judge turned and faced his wife. "Judith! You said you'd keep out, until you were asked your opinion."

"I'm not going to let you railroad him. She screwed up. We all know that. It's up to the boy if he wants to try to work things out, for the sake of the family. Don't try to make her look any worse than she is."

"She's been screwing around with another man for a year, behind his back, and now wants him to accept that there's a new man in their lives. What else do you call a wife who has an affair for over a year, and refuses to give it up?"

"Confused? I don't know. It's up to them to work it out, if they want to. Let him decide on his own."

Jonathan spoke up. "She came over again last night. Didn't stay. Went back to her lover. No apologies, other than she says she didn't mean to hurt me. No intention of stopping her affair. Still threatening me. I can't accept that."

The Colonel spoke up for the first time. "What if she did give him up? Is it too late?"

Jonathan took a few seconds to think that over. "I don't know. If she stopped it, realized how hurtful it was, if she was repentant, and I could believe it wouldn't happen again, then maybe."

"That's a lot of 'ifs' for a maybe. You think there's any chance of that happening?"

"Honestly? No. She says she loves him. She's in love with him. Says he's a great lover. I can't see my way around that. She had no call telling me about her love life with him. She was trying to hurt me. She threatened me with divorce and ruin. Keeping my kids from me. She wants to cheat, and laughs at the idea of my finding another woman, and says if I did, she'd divorce me. As if that's fair. No, I want her out of my life."

The Colonel's wife, Diane spoke up. "That's not going to happen, Jonathan. She's the mother of your kids. Like it or not she'll be in your life for the next thirteen years at least, unless you plan on abandoning your children."

"They're my kids. My responsibility," Jonathan snapped.

"Understood. But they're hers too. You can divorce her, but if it's bitter, hurtful, you're going to have to live with that for the next couple of decades," Diane said.

"Hurtful, like telling me she had an affair for a year, and he was a better lover than me? That she was keeping him whether I liked it or not, and if I caused any trouble she'd divorce me, make me pay, and laugh while I lived out of a cardboard box, supporting her?" Jonathan replied angrily.

His grandfather stood up. "Ladies, we invited you here to provide your advice and wisdom. You agreed to stay out of it until you were asked for your input. I don't think you're helping at the moment. Please, leave us alone for now, and we'll get you involved once he's made his decisions on how to move forward."

There was a little grumbling, but the women moved out to the living room, leaving the men alone.

"What do you want, Jonathan? As simply as you can state it."

"I want her out. I want the kids. I don't want to support her. I don't want to be paying for her to have a good time with her lover. I want him to suffer if I can. Both of them, if I'm totally honest with myself. I'd like to break them up, maybe even make them hate each other."

The older men looked at each other, and they all slowly started to grin. The Colonel nodded. "Good. We're all on the same page, then. It's war. Battle lines are drawn. Now it's a matter of tactics."

* * *

Three hours of non-stop discussion and arguing had the basic plan in place. The women were brought in at that point, over lunch, and though they weren't happy with the decision, they supported it.

Jonathan called his house and left a message. "I won't be home tonight," he said. "Tomorrow night either. I'll see you Sunday."

Leaving the 'Eagle's' and their wives to deal with the first order of business, Jonathan headed for his mother's house, wanting to be there when she got off work.

She greeted him in surprise at his new look. "What brings you over? You could have called."

"I need to talk to you Mom. It's important."

She was crying only minutes into his explanation.

"No chance you'll take her back? She's the mother of your children, Jonathan. She's given you eleven good years."

"Nine, really. That's when she started seeing her lover."

"Is divorce the only solution? Nobody wins in divorce."

"I don't see any other way, Mom. Honestly. She won't give him up. She loves him, she says. She's been screwing him for a year. I can't accept that."

His mother nodded. "It breaks my heart, baby. I have to tell you."

"Mine too. Believe me."

"What can I do? You need help watching the kids on the weekends or evenings?"

"Right now, I'm staying in the house. I'm not starting the divorce yet. She may want to before long. I'm not going to help her though. I'm not going to pay for her to be with her new love. I'm cutting her off. She wants money, she's going to have to get a job. I'll pay for the house, and food, and take care of the kids, but she's not getting a dime unless it's court ordered."

His mother nodded. "She probably should get a job. She's going to need it once you two are through."

"I want you to go with me to talk to her parents. I don't want them watching the kids while she's out screwing around on me."

"I'm sure they wouldn't do that," his mother said anxiously.

"They've been doing it. The only question is did they know why."

Twenty minutes later they were knocking on the Finnegan's front door. "Jonathan, you look so different!" Susan's mother said. "You've already missed them. Susan picked up the kids over an hour ago."

"Actually, I came to speak to you and Dad. Can we come in?"

"Of course! Carolyn, nice to see you. Can I get you a drink?" She called into the house, "Terry! Jonathan and his mother are here!"

"Soft drink would be nice," his mother said.

"Ginger Ale?"

His mother nodded, and he said, "I'll take the same, thank you."

They were seated in the living room, when Brenda brought them their drinks, with Terry following close behind. Brenda sat down. "Is something the matter? You don't look... well."

He nodded. "I'd like you to stop covering for Susan while she's having her affair."

Brenda acted like she'd been slapped, and Terry turned red. "How the hell can you say something like that?" Terry growled angrily.

"For a year she's been seeing her lover, and you watch the kids while she does. I'd like you to stop that. I think it's beneath you to support her cheating on me."

Brenda was the first to speak. "That's ridiculous! She loves you and the kids. She's not having an affair. We certainly wouldn't cover for her if she was."

"She spent the last couple of nights at her lover's house, while you watched the kids. She told me two nights ago she was in love with him and had been seeing him for the last year. She doesn't see him at night, she's home with her family. That means she sees him during the day. I doubt she takes the kids with her. Do you mean to tell me you haven't been watching our kids several times a week for the last year?"

Brenda sat with her mouth open. "She...she said she was doing volunteer work at the battered women's shelter."

"Unless the bastard's beating her, the only thing battered is our marriage," Jonathan said.

Terry looked distraught. "She told you? She had an affair?"

"Is having an affair. She refuses to give him up. She says she loves him, but she wants me to take care of her and the kids. I'll be damned if I'm going to be paying her to fuck another man."

Brenda was on the verge of tears. "I can't believe it. I can believe she'd use us to cover for her cheating."

"I'd like you to please stop. You're helping her destroy our marriage. There's no hope for us as long as she's seeing him. Can you understand that?"

Terry's face was red. "You have no fault in this, I suppose? Were you cheating on her?"

"No. You have no cause to imply I was. My only fault was working too many hours to pay for that damn house she had to have, and to keep her in new lingerie for her boyfriend. I... I may have let myself go a little. Put on some pounds, worked too many hours, came home too tired to pay enough attention to her, maybe. I don't see how that's any reason for her to take on a new lover for a year. Do you think that's right?"

His wife's father glared at him. "I don't know what's right or wrong. I'm only hearing one side of this story. I'll save my judgment until I hear her side."

"Sure. I understand. Daddy's little girl can do no wrong. She couldn't be a cheating slut, could she? Stop watching the kids so she can fuck around!" Jonathan snapped.

"I think you should leave now," Terry growled angrily.

"That works for me. What kind of people cover for their daughter so she can be a cheating whore, abandoning her kids all the time to get fucked by some young guy? Who raises that kind of kid?" Jonathan replied testily.

"Out!," Terry screamed, his Irish temper in full bloom.

Carolyn couldn't believe how belligerent it had become so quickly. She looked across at Brenda, sorrowfully. Jonathan ignored them, headed for the door. "Congratulations on raising a whore, Dad. Good job!" he sniped as a parting shot.

His mother snapped at him. "How could you speak to them like that?"

"I wanted him angry. She'll feel the brunt of it, if she's been hiding it from them. If not, if they knew about it, then fuck them, they deserve it."

* * *

Jonathan headed north, for the Oklahoma border. His mission, he'd been told, was to collect as many losing receipts as he could, get a hotel room for a couple nights, do a little gambling, and maybe get his ashes hauled. He felt no guilt over the idea of sleeping with another woman. The moment his wife confessed to her year-long affair, and said she was going to keep seeing the bastard, their marriage was over. Now they were just marking time until the paperwork was done.

His phone had started ringing within minutes of leaving town, but he'd turned it off before he even hit the state border. He figured the shit would be hitting the fan. Oh well, she made her bed, let her sleep in it. Not like the whore wouldn't have company.

He tried his luck at a couple of the tables, then hit the bar. It wasn't half an hour later that he was talking to a gorgeous woman, who had a salve for his pain, and was willing to rent it to him. He felt a fleeting pang of guilt, paying $400 for a woman. Like he was cheating. Then he'd laughed to himself. The bitch had done it for a year. Why shouldn't he? At least he wasn't getting emotionally involved.

Afterward, as he escorted her out of his room, he grinned. Damn, best sex I've had in years, he thought. The woman had the body of a Goddess, and gave him unlimited access. He'd come in her mouth, in her pussy twice, and even in her ass. He'd fucked her for two solid hours, and she used her mouth to make sure he kept coming back for more. He'd used a condom, but it wasn't that bad. Maybe good even, it helped him delay his finish. Best $400 he ever spent. $400 the cheating whore wife would never get her hands on.

The following day, he wandered the casino for a while. He played a little craps, and some poker, losing a couple of hundred bucks. He'd picked up dozens of receipts in the Keno and Sports betting rooms. Thousands of dollars' worth. He'd taken in the show, and found another good-looking woman who was more than happy to exchange her favors for a few hundred bucks. Not as young or pretty as the previous night's guest, she was closer to his age, and very easy going. He managed to get her for only $300, and got even more use out of her than he had the tall blonde, the night before. He figured it had to last; he'd be damned if he would be having sex with his whore of a wife anytime soon. It was so good, he tipped her an extra $50. She gave him a business card, and asked him to look her up any time he needed company. He saved it.

Jonathan felt sated but lonely in the big bed that night. He thought about his wrecked marriage, and all the things his wife had done with her younger, better lover. The bitch. How could she do that to him? To her only children? How selfish could one person be? Giving up her marriage for some stranger fucking her. What kind of man would set out to steal another man's wife? Figures it would be a lawyer. Lying cheating fucks, all of them. Scum of the earth.