Without a Paddle

As soon as we got onto the freeway proper, I ruined his plans. I floored it again and my car shot forward like a scalded cat. In the blink of an eye, we were both doing north of 100 and smiling from ear to ear. Over the course of a few seconds, I pulled ahead and then farther ahead. Even though Mark couldn't see me, I was grinning like a Cheshire cat as I pulled off of the freeway at our exit. I turned right and saw him turn left at the first intersection. I glanced at my phone as I drove through the gate and into the park. I saw the clock but not the picnic tables. They were about fifty yards past the parking lot. I didn't see anyone around so I drove through the parking lot and onto the grass. I drove right up to the picnic tables and finally spotted the box. I took a picture of the clock on the run and then the cupcake as soon as I opened the box. I ripped the cupcake in half and took another picture. Then I took another picture of the clock and headed for my car which was only a few steps away. Okay so I cheated. I didn't eat the fucking cupcake. I popped half of it into my mouth. I'd eat the rest during the drive.

I drove slowly out of the park and through the streets that surrounded it. I hit the freeway and didn't see or hear Mark's car anywhere. My goal for the trip back was to get the car over 150. I had to assume that Mark was ahead of me. If I knew him, he'd cheated with the cupcake too. My speed-O was at 145 and climbing, with the sound of my Pype bomb exhaust system crooning like music to my ears when I heard the alarm. It was my radar detector. I saw a group of cars ahead of me and slowed down till I was just behind them. The newer long range radar detectors let you know a lot farther in advance so I was sure I'd be okay. I tucked in behind a Volkswagen Jetta and a guy in a minivan. I smiled because I knew what would happen.

Like clockwork, the guy in the minivan looked over at me and started driving faster. It was as predictable as spring rain. Put a regular guy in a minivan and he just has to start driving like he's Mario Andretti. I think it's some kind of reaction to the concept that minivans were invented for soccer moms. So when you get a guy in a minivan, he just has to prove, probably to himself because no one else gives a fuck, that he still has balls. So to prove that he has balls he drives like an asshole. As we round the bend, he's doing about eighty and his minivan is shaking like the Starship Enterprise at warp nine. I could just hear his kids in the back screaming, "Daddy, she's breaking up." If that guy didn't slow down the rubber band that powered that thing was going to snap and he'd have to walk home carrying his rug rats.

But it was not to be, because as we rounded that bend, one of the three police cars hidden there flashed its lights and the cop inside yelled over his loudspeaker, "You in the minivan. Pull over."

Before I could laugh at the minivan, I noticed Mark Jr. sailing past me in the fast lane. He had his passenger side window down and his middle finger extended. "Ya snooze, ya lose, Dad," he smirked.

His laughter was cut short though as another police car pulled up behind him and turned on his siren. The rest of my drive home was leisurely. I pulled into the driveway got slowly out of my car and started laughing. I sprinted into the kitchen and grabbed a beer, not from the fridge but from the box stored in the pantry. I also grabbed an empty bottle. I ran outside into the yard and sat down on the deck in one of the lounge chairs.

Miri and Cora were there already trying to set things up for our barbecue.

"Mark, the least you could do is to start the grill," said Miri.

"Mark, why is Georgie angry?" asked Cora. "I was coming over just as you and little Mark left this morning. He acts like those little kids on the playground who don't get to play with the big kids."

"I'll tell you later Cora," I said. I leaned back in my chair and pretended that I was asleep as we heard the low growl of Mark's car pulling into the driveway.

I started snoring loudly and George came and sat down at one of the tables near my lounge chair. "What're you..." he began.

"Shh, here he comes," I whispered.

Mark came storming into the yard, with the biggest smile on his face clutching a rolled up ticket. "Where are you, cheater?" he yelled. He looked around the yard and didn't see me over the back of my chair.

Miri came back into the yard with a big tray with five steaks on it. "Mark, your father is asleep. You must've tired him out. Someone needs to start the grill, if we're going to eat on time."

"I'll do it," said George.

As Mark continued looking around for me, George spoke to him. "I'm about to do one of your chores young man. Shouldn't you say thanks or something?"

At that same moment, Mark saw me and came over and kicked my chair. "Stop pretending you faker. If you hadn't cheated, I'd have won," he said.

"Now Mark. Your father doesn't cheat," said Miri.

"Well, he could have warned me about the speed trap," snapped Mark. "He's paying for half of my ticket."

"What, whoa. How long was I asleep for? Is it still Saturday? Oh Mark, you're finally home," I said. "I saved you a beer."

"You're really funny Dad," he said, taking the bottle. He popped off the top and took a long drink. "Hey, this is warm."

"Sorry," I said. "It was ice cold when I brought it out here. I already drank mine while I waited for you. But that was before I fell asleep."

"You liar," he snapped. "When I took my last picture in the park, it was eleven thirty-five. The cops probably delayed me by ten minutes and it's not even noon yet. The beer wouldn't have had a chance to get warm. You owe me sixty dollars."

"Wait a minute," I said. "A ticket for going ten over is only a hundred dollars."

"I've only got eighty," he said. "And I need at least forty for my date tonight."

"Maybe you should pay the ticket and stay in tonight," I said.

"Dad, warm beer sucks," said Mark. "I want another one."

"No, Mark," I said. "You know the rule." He nodded. And out of nowhere George leaped into our conversation with both feet.

"I'm not sure I like the idea of him drinking period," said George. Miri looked at him as he spoke. Cora smiled and looked at him too.

Mark shot a pissed off look at George.

"After all, he's only twenty years old. He won't be legally old enough to drink for almost a year. He shouldn't be drinking period," said George.

"How is it any of your business, Mr. Wilson?" asked Mark Jr.

"George, a lot of kids start drinking by the time they're sixteen," I said. "Mark at twenty, lives on his own at college. If he wanted to, he could be walking around drunk half of the time that he's there. We let him have one beer a day, while he's home. It doesn't hurt anything and it gets him to the point where in ten months, when he can drink, it's not some terrible forbidden thing that he's going to go crazy doing."

My, I believed, rational explanation went unheard, though. I don't think that George heard a word of it.

"That makes sense," said Cora.

"Will somebody turn the God damned grill on?" yelled Miri. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what she was angry about.

"When I was in college...Well, I didn't get to go to college, but when I was about to go to college before I got married, we were drunk all of the time," said Cora. "The guys at the college used to come and bring us drinks all of the time. At least they brought drinks for all of the girls. I was a girl then. Well I'm still a girl now. At least I feel like a girl. But I guess technically I'm a woman. I wonder why those college guys didn't bring any drinks for the boys..."

There was a tension in the air. I could feel it. Something was about to happen and I knew that it was going to be bad. I had no idea though of just how bad it was going to be. I guess I envisioned my Saturday afternoon being ruined because either George or Mark Jr. would stomp off and leave the rest of us to eat without one of them. Maybe they'd both leave. But again as I tried to defuse the situation I had no idea what would happen.

"I'm tired of you showing me such disrespect," said George to Mark.

"I'm tired of you inserting yourself into everything we do," spat Mark. "Why can't you just sit there and eat and tell us stories about the time of the great depression when you were young. Ever since I was a little kid, you've been following me around like a God damned pedophile or something."

"I've been studying my ass off at school to make my parents proud of me and so I can have a great career. I have a lot of friends on campus but I missed my MOM and DAD. I came home this weekend to relax and spend time with my family. I wanted to eat my mom's cooking and do nutty things with my dad. Ever since we got up this morning, there you've been. I don't mind you visiting, but shit, can you at least be a good guest and try to stay out of the decision making process?"

I thought George was going to explode when Mark Jr. called him a pedophile. His face got so red I thought he'd either have a heart attack or stomp off.

"I think that I should have a hell of a lot more than a bit to say about things when it comes to you..." he yelled, but Mark cut him off.

"We wanted to do a race and there you were when we clearly didn't want you in it. You tried to stick your big, fat ass in one of our cars..." screamed Mark.

"In fact, I should have more to say about what you do than anyone else," screamed George.

"Then when I get home after my dad clearly cheated by not telling me his radar detector picked up bacon, when I'm angry and pissed off and a loser, you just have to flap your big assed mouth again because I wanted a beer. There are all kinds of kids all over the world that you could adopt and bother the shit out of, but you have to bother me when no one wants to hear your opinion," screamed Mark Jr. "When..." George cut Mark off again just as I was about to stop them and try to calm things down, George screamed out those four words that are immortal on Literotica.

"When we were married." Oops, okay, hang on. I got mixed up; wrong story. That is not what George yelled. Where were we? Damn it, I lost the big dramatic build up and everything.

"When I'm your father..." screamed George at the top of his lungs. It was like being at a party and the DJ accidentally stops the record in the middle. Every head in the yard turned. The birds stopped in mid-air and went silent. Cora turned towards George with a confused look on her face. My mouth dropped open and Miri dropped the tray she was carrying and looked at me.

"Now, I understand," yelled Mark Jr. "You're senile. Just get away from me. There's no need for you to ever speak to me again."

"I'm so sorry," whispered George. With everyone looking at him, his voice though barely more than a whisper; carried.

"It...I was just so angry," he said. It took a few seconds for what he was saying to register. That was more than enough for Miri to take off running into the house, bawling her eyes out.

"What?" said Cora. "You guys are going too fast. I don't understand any of this. Someone tell me what is going on."

"Apparently, your husband and my wife are closer than we thought," I said.

"You mean they're related?" she asked. "Like cousins?"

"Dad, is this a joke?" asked Mark Jr.

"No," said both George and me at the same time. George realized then that he'd said one word too many. He started backing up, but he was far too late. I followed him and punched him in the stomach so hard that I thought my fist would stick out of his back. He fell to the ground clutching his gut and started dry heaving and then vomited all over Miri's azaleas.

"Get up you bastard," I screamed. I was just about to hit him again when Miri grabbed my arm from behind.

"Mark, if you kill him, you'll go to jail and he's just not worth it," she said, with tears streaming down her face.

I pushed her away from me as if her touch burned me. "So says the woman who fucked him, right Miriam," I spat. "He was worth enough to ruin our marriage and our entire lifetime together, but not enough for me to go to jail for. How stupid is that? Four hours ago we were in bed and I was thinking that I would have died for you, so going to jail would have meant nothing. Now I can't stand the sight of you. Get away from me."

She looked as if I'd hit her. She slumped to the ground and started bawling even more.

I walked calmly out of the yard and into the house. I grabbed my keys off of the counter and headed for my car. My mind was whirring at about a thousand thoughts a second as I slammed the door behind me. The last thing I heard before I got into my car and drove away was Cora talking.

"Does this mean we aren't having steaks?" she asked. "I kind of had my mouth all ready for a steak."

* * * * * *

Miriam

I don't know how I kept breathing. Even as I cried the way a newborn baby cries, my lungs continued to suck in air. If I were a smarter woman I'd have realized that the mere fact that I COULD cry, meant that I was in fact breathing. I also have no idea why the world continued to turn or the sun continued to shine, but they did. Life went on all around me. Even as I heard the sound of Mark's car door slamming shut from the front of the house, I could feel the stares of the three people left in the yard with me.

I concentrated on what the sound of that door closing meant for me. It meant that the man I loved was getting ready to drive away from me in anger for the first time in our twenty five years together. I wanted to go after him, but I just didn't have the strength for that. I was surprised that I could even sit up there on the ground.

Everything around me, everything in this yard had been built, arranged, planted, designed or maintained with the blood and sweat of my family. The deck was twelve years old and had been re-stained or re-sanded at least six times. The entire deck had been built over the course of four weekends by Mark and Mark Jr. twelve years ago. Almost from the day I brought him home from the hospital, they'd been inseparable.

They talked alike. They walked alike. They looked alike. They liked the same foods. They liked the same cars. They were as close as brothers. My family was ruined and all for the jealousy and ego of one stupid man. No, I was the stupid one. This should never have happened. But in the back of my mind, I'd always known that someday it might. I guess I'd always hoped that it wouldn't. But to say that I'd never had any idea that it could happen, would be dishonest.

Even as my mind tried to shut down or shut out everything except for my pain, my senses continued to retrieve data from all around me. Cora's stupid questions about a steak barely registered but they were there. I suppose I should be grateful that she wasn't asking more questions. Sooner or later she was going to realize what had happened and then she'd be angry. Cora we could probably handle. She was as sweet as she was stupid. The men in the neighborhood used to trick her all the time. They'd tell her that George said it was okay for them to feel her boobs and she'd let them. She'd even stick them out so it was easier for them. That stopped the day that George caught a guy doing it and tried to beat him to death. Cora would eventually realize what was going on and would probably be badly hurt. But she loved George so they'd survive this.

George sitting next to me, wheezing and retching and trying to stand up was a lot more easily forgotten.

The thing I couldn't get over or get past though, was the site of my son glaring at me. "It's not true is it, Mom?" he asked, over and over. "That asshole isn't really my father is he? You didn't..."

After asking me the same questions perhaps five or six times, he looked into my eyes and got his answer. My son is a good looking boy. Fortunately, most of my genes must have been dominant over George's because there are no traces of George on his face. But as handsome as he is, Mark screwed his face into a mask of hatred and rage as he looked at me. It was the first time I'd ever considered that one of my men might hit me.

"You WHORE," he hissed. He was so angry that he was foaming at the mouth. A few flecks of spittle actually landed in my face. I don't remember my son ever being that angry.

"Don't talk to your mother that way," croaked George, who apparently had no idea when to shut the fuck up.

Mark's head swiveled in place as if he was a robot. His eyes turned towards George and I swear his eyes glowed. "If you ever try to speak to me again, I'll kill you," he said. "You mean nothing to me. For most of my life, I've thought of you as my dad's weird friend, or as some nosy neighbor, but now you mean literally nothing to me. You actually mean less than nothing if that's even possible."

"But we..." cried George.

"There is no fucking WE," screamed Mark, who was becoming incensed. "If you say another fucking word it will be your last. Get out of our yard and don't ever come back. You're not welcome here anymore. I can't take this shit. You two deserve each other." He too grabbed his keys and in only a few minutes there was the sound of another door slamming and another overpriced, overly loud, exhaust system roaring away from the house. It was funny, they reacted to their pain the same way too.

"Do I have to leave too?" asked Cora.

"Cora, Honey do you even know what's going on?" I asked.

"You and George had a baby together a long time ago," she said. "Mark Jr. is the baby and everyone is upset because Mark isn't his father and George is. Jeezus guys that was a long time ago. How old is Mark Jr., he's pretty old?"

"He's twenty Cora," I said. "You and George have been married for thirty years."

"That's a long time," she said.

"Come on Cora," I said. "Do the math. What does that mean?"

"I hate math," she said. "I'm not any good at it. I can never figure out what X is. Can't you just tell me the answer like they did in school?"

"Cora, it means that George and I did a very bad thing," I said. "George and I had sex while he was married to you and I was married to Mark."

"Oh!" she said. "That's why everyone is so angry. And that's why the Marks hate George. I think that I'm angry too," she said.

"You should be Cora," I said. I started crying again and she actually came over and rubbed the back of my neck.

"I never wanted any of this," said George. "None of this was what I wanted. I just wanted to be included. I'm sorry Miri."

George got up and walked tentatively towards Cora, who was looking at him and at me angrily by now. "Come on Cora," he said. "Let's go home and talk." She looked at him very angrily but she went with him.

I was finally alone. I went into the house and closed and locked all of the doors. I pulled the drapes shut so no one could see inside the house, but also so no sunlight could get in. I felt ashamed and ugly. I wanted to lock myself away forever. George's four thoughtless words had ruined my life.

I picked up the phone and tried to call Mark. I found out that my cell phone had already been blocked. I tried using our land line and it went straight to voice mail. I sobbed and called my son. He'd already blocked me too.

I went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed. I hadn't had a chance to change the sheets on the bed, so they still smelled like Mark and I had just made love on them. Perhaps a few of our fluids had started to decay so the smell was more rancid than funky, but it was still our smell and it comforted me. It told me that the dream I'd been living in for the past twenty-five years had actually happened.

I thought back about all of the things that I love about my husband and it made me cry. I'm not the kind of woman who wants her man to change. That's a mistake that a lot of women make. They think that with the right combination of the 3 P's they can make a man into their perfect guy. Those 3 P's are, of course, Persuasion, Patience and Pussy.