A Boilerplate Rendering Ch. 02

The sound of water running in the bathroom flickered past my ears, a surefire sign that the girls were now in final "tooth brushing" stage. I got up and gathered together the supplies we would need for our zoo run. I was just finishing up when they came bounding into the kitchen, all youthful energy and joy.

I basked in the purity of that gloriously simple happiness for a few moments. "Are you two all set to go?" I asked.

"We are!" I was promised.

"And guess what?" Suzie interjected, flashing a gap-toothed grin. "Mommy's coming too!"

Before I could explain that no, in fact, Mommy wasn't going to be able to join us, Karen came shuffling meekly into the room. She wore a deeply apologetic look and what was undoubtedly a "Mommy at the zoo" outfit.

Oh.

I shook my head and looked away, feeling...what? Disappointed? Angry?

Relieved?

Did I even know how I felt anymore?

"Hey," she offered lamely.

"You decide to join us." It wasn't a question.

"Is that..." she leaned in and, glancing to see that the girls didn't hear, whispered "okay?"

I shrugged. "Not much I can do about it now. They've already decided."

She flinched. "I guess I can be kind of an asshole sometimes, can't I?"

More than you'll ever realize.

I shrugged, uncertain what to do. My plans had backfired, and now I was stuck with her for the entire day. There was no way to hit reset, with the kids bouncing excitedly around our feet. Karen had decided to stay, and I couldn't do a thing about it.

So why didn't that feel worse than it did?

Thanks a lot, Carl. You couldn't even come through for me just this one time, could you?

"Well," I said, as the girls started getting impatient, "there's no point in waiting around. Let's get going."

--

It turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant day. I fully expected the growing distance between Karen and me to be a heavy blanket over every ray of sunshine, but somehow the opposite was true: the joy of shared adventure seemed to momentarily shrug off the ever-encroaching darkness.

Whatever bond we'd once shared was lost, of course. But it had been a part of who we were for so many years, that it was easy to pretend it back into place. So for a few beautiful hours, my family was whole again.

The girls were a big part of that. They laughed, they ran, they enjoyed the casual comfort of knowing their parents were keeping an eye on them. They didn't realize that that idea...their parents, as a single entity...didn't exist anymore. They believed the world was still as it needed to be. And with the galloping energy of their lively fantastical assumptions, it almost seemed like they were right for a little while.

Between Karen and me, an even simpler route was run. It started, most obviously, with silence. For my part, I was determined to keep it there. But this, of course, proved to be an impossibility. You simply can't take children into a brushfire of freedom, choice, and widely open space without having to communicate with your spouse at least a little bit. So, grudgingly, I let the smallest of interactions pass.

And that ruined everything.

"Where should we go next," led to "We really liked the rain forest exhibit last year. Remember?" Which led to a small smile and a rush of pleasant memory. Which led to more talking.

Maybe you've been there. Maybe you know. When there's that much history between you, rebellion is as simple as a happy memory. Before you know it, you're talking about the safest, warmest subject on earth: times in the past when you've seen your children smile.

Strangely, I'd say we got along better during that trip than we had in years, even if the reasons were upsetting. I know it affected Karen, from the way her cheeks flushed and she couldn't stop smiling. For me, it was almost like having the fog of a new relationship wash over you. And that's strange...maybe unexplainable...but no less true for all that. Somehow, for that brief collection of hours, it all felt sparkly new.

By the time we were piling back into the van, with the sun going down, I was having such a wonderful time that it was the longest I'd gone without thinking about Karen's infidelity since the day I discovered the truth. Can you ask for a better gift than the one that makes you forget?

Well, they say the devil's in the details. I don't know about that, exactly. But he's definitely a master of the surgical strike.

We were about ten minutes out from the zoo, headed home on the interstate, when the most unremarkable of sounds woke me up from what was, in truth, the stupidest little fantasy of my life:

Karen's cell phone started vibrating in her purse.

It could have been just about anybody calling, I suppose, except for the fact that she didn't bother to check or to answer the call. She just folded her coat over her purse to muffle the sound, and looked out the window until it was done. That, by itself, told me everything I needed to know.

And just like that...as quickly as the throwing of a coat over a buzzing cell phone...the joy and ease was gone. The heart of the moment was lost. But it was more than that. I was suddenly sadder and more tired than I'd ever been in my whole life. Like a prisoner being told that he was being led to freedom, saying his goodbyes and dreaming of the future, only to find himself unceremoniously pushed into the room with the injection table.

I focused on the road, and tried not to think. I just wished that the whole day had never happened, so I could have avoided the way I felt now.

Karen and the children kept up the positive vibes, laughing and talking about everything that we'd done that day, and I gave a few responses to keep appearances up, but my heart wasn't in it anymore. When we got to the house and closed the garage door, I remained silently seated while everybody else piled out of the car.

"Aren't you coming?" Karen asked when I didn't move.

"I just need a minute," I responded quietly, still looking forward as though I was watching the road.

"Is...something wrong?" she frowned.

"No."

Silence. She didn't move. "Are you sure?"

"I'm just tired," I insisted. "Please."

She took a deep breath, and reached over to touch my arm.

"A minute," I insisted. "Can I just have my one little minute, before going in?"

She flinched back, opened her mouth as though she wanted to say more, then sighed and followed the girls into the house.

I don't really know what happened. Maybe it was the weight of feeling I'd been carrying around with me for so long. Maybe it was just that I'd been toeing a line and had accidentally gone past it. Or maybe I was just that sad. I can't say for sure. But no sooner had they shut the door to the house than I had my forehead against the steering wheel and was sobbing like a baby.

It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I've never been a crier, even when I WAS a baby. But now I cried the way that a grieving parent cries on absent birthdays. I cried like I was the last person left at the funeral.

And it kept coming and coming. I wanted nothing more than to stop...to catch my breath and to feel like I was in control of myself again...but it was like each fresh sob was ripped out of me by something deep within.

I was so relieved when it finally started to wane that I almost laughed. For a few moments there, I'm not sure I had believed that it was ever going to end.

Sitting up, I put my hand to my chest and focused on calm, deep breaths until I thought I was together enough to go inside. I figured I'd stop in the hallway bathroom and wash my face, and nobody need ever know that I-

Then I saw movement in the corner of my eye.

No.

I turned. Our eyes met.

She was standing just a few feet away, with her hand over her mouth and fat tears rolling down both cheeks. Guilt and pity and hurt all battled each other on her face, each of them making me sick.

And then she turned and ran back into the house.

Goddamn it. God DAMN it! I punched the steering wheel, searched for something else to hit, found nothing and just hit the wheel again.

Goddamn it goddamn it goddamn it!

Just one thing! That's all I asked. Just one little thing that I could have to myself. One little thing that was only for ME!

She didn't go out that night, but we didn't say much more to each other after that. I pretended to watch television for a while, and she pretended that I didn't know she was staring at me.

After the girls were in bed, she went out on the deck, took out her cell phone, and talked for over an hour...her face strained and her eyes downcast.

--==--

CHAPTER FIVE

--==--

"Hi," came the timid icebreaker Sunday morning. "Did you sleep well?"

Hardly at all. Hardly ever, anymore. "I slept fine."

She blew on her coffee. "Thank you for yesterday. I had a wonderful time." She watched me. "I'm sorry about the way it ended."

"Me, too."

There was a long, drawn out silence. "John?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Be calm. "We've been over that."

"I know. I just...I can't help feeling that there has to be a better way. Some way for us to-"

I looked up sharply at her, and she fell silent. Then I got up, dumped the rest of my cereal, and left the room.

I spent the next few hours doing housework and digging around on the Internet. Karen didn't try to engage me in conversation again, and for a while I thought the message had been received. Then a little after lunch she drove the girls over to a friend's house, and when she returned she disappeared into the bedroom. I didn't think much about it...I heard the shower run, and I guess I figured she was just headed out to get laid.

It would get her out of my hair. And it's not like I wanted her. So why did it still bother me to think about? Why did my guts twist and tear, like they were caught between two great rotating gears? I pushed the question away, banished it from my mind, and looked for distraction.

Because that really works.

The situation was far worse than I'd thought, however, because about 30 minutes later the door to my study opened and she stood there, looking taut and sexy in a lacey bra and matching pair of tiny panties that dipped so low I cannot fathom how I didn't see the top of her cleft.

"The girls are gone," she cooed in a voice that could only come from someone who knows exactly how good they look and are confident in your reaction. "I thought you might like to spend some time together."

"Don't do this, Karen," I warned. "It's not going to help anything. It's going to make things worse."

She moved forward, her movement an exaggerated sashay. "I'm not trying to fix anything. I just wanted to show y-"

"Stop!" I interrupted as she began to saunter nearer. "Don't you dare come any closer. Not right now, and certainly not dressed like that."

Her face tightened at that, but she ignored me and pushed forward. "Come on, baby. You know I can make it worth your time."

I slammed my hands down on the desk, jumping to my feet. "I said STOP!!"

This time she did stop, and a little bit of her confidence seemed to drift away in the process. "Please, John," She begged, opting to let the vulnerable woman routine continue where the sultry seductress had failed. "I just want you close to me. I genuinely do. I've missed it more than you would probably believe."

I levelled a look at her that should have told her exactly what I thought of that statement. "Tell me something," I snapped. "Who got you wearing those kind of outfits? Because I sure don't remember you ever wearing them for me, before. Not once."

She flinched. "I...like them, though," she shifted her weight like a shy public speaker. "I thought you would, too."

"And who did you shave your pussy for?" I continued. "Because THAT wasn't me, either." I came around the desk, moving past her and headed towards the door. "What about that haircut? Do you think I don't know who helped you pick it out? And all the exercise you're getting that's making you look so fit...just what kind of exercise is it, anyway? Pilates? Yoga? No. I doubt that very much." I stood in the doorway, turned and looked at her, and shook my head. She was looking embarrassed, now...maybe even a little humiliated. Welcome to the club. There were unshed tears in her eyes. "I wouldn't touch you for anything," I spat on the floor for emphasis. "You see, I made a vow to stay faithful to my wife, to only share myself with her...and I insist on keeping myself to that vow. It MEANS something to me. And right now..." I looked her over with disgust, "...she's not here."

I slammed the door behind me.

The next time I saw Karen, she was wearing sweats and was curled up in an armchair, flipping through the channels. She didn't look up at me as I walked by. Her jaw clenched a little, but I don't think I was supposed to see that.

Works for me, baby.

--

She spent the next two weeks going back to the "part of the family" routine that had worked so well for her at the zoo. She still threw those little glances in my direction, making it obvious that she was checking to see if the ice showed any signs of thawing. She also didn't mention or request time with Carl, which I assumed was part of the strategy. I knew she had to be seeing him. No way was I prepared to think otherwise. I just wasn't sure how she was doing it.

On Thursday of the second week, I decided to investigate. A little after lunch I picked up the phone and called her office, asking for her by name.

"May I ask who's calling?" I didn't contact her through work channels very often, usually opting to text her if I needed to communicate.

"It's her husband," I explained.

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"I am...sorry, sir, but Mrs. Sanders is out of town."

Ahh. Mrs. Sanders. So you don't believe that I'm her husband. Probably because she told you that's who she was going to be with.

Well, I wasn't about to cover for her. "Alright, thanks. I'll talk to her when she gets home from wherever the fuck she is." I hung up the phone with a humourless laugh.

I considered this new information. I had already known that she'd burned up a lot of her vacation time sneaking around behind my back, before I confronted her. Apparently, she was now back to using old tricks, seeing her lover in secret while still trying to repair things with her husband.

That's not how this works, though, dear. I decided that a little lesson was in order.

I made my arrangements quietly, and carefully. That weekend, I broke the news to the family. "Guess what, everyone?" I announced at dinner. "We are all going to Disneyland!"

The girls immediately went ape shit, squealing and asking the most hilarious of questions. I did my best to field them. But Karen just stared at me across the table with a look that somehow combined doubt, shock, anger, and horror.

"Disneyland?" She eventually murmured under her breath. Then, her eyebrows came together and she leaned forward. "We can't afford that, John. Our finances are rough enough as it is!" She said this last part a little too forcefully. I knew what she was really saying.

I just shrugged. "It did set us back quite a ways, but everything's already been bought and arranged for. We certainly won't be able to afford to go again, if that's what you mean. So we'll just have to make the most of this trip." I gave the girls a wink, then laid out all the details.

It was a big trip, taking us out of town for a full week and pretty much undoing all of the financial good we had managed over the last seven or eight years. It was the kind of "I deserve a reward" misstep that a financial planner would grimace at the thought of, multiplied several times over. I had even rented a condo, rather than a hotel room, so we'd have a base of operations that contained all the essentials of everyday living.

Karen was even more stunned by the time I was finished. "I...I can't believe you spent all our money without talking to me first," she wined.

"Oh? Are we suddenly in the habit of talking to one another before making decisions that affect the marriage?" I smiled. Then I forked some food into my mouth and shrugged. "I figure it's the last year before the girls become too old for something like this. It won't be magical anymore, soon, so it's now or never. And we clearly need some family time anyway, so..."

She paled at that last part. "But it's so much money!"

"We will be fine so long as we don't run up any unforeseen hospital bills, the cars keep working, and we don't have to take any leave without pay at work."

She turned even paler. "John? I am...ahh...I'm not sure I have enough vacation time saved up for something like this."

"Oh?" I feigned surprise.

She blushed and looked down at the table. "I've sort of been...using it. Quite a lot of it, actually."

I set my fork down. "You've been with the company a long time, Karen. Surely you earned enough vacation time during all those years."

Her blush deepened. "I've...I've used it all up, actually. Or enough to be a problem. And not only that, but I'm starting to get really behind on some big projects because I've been out of the office so much recently."

Read my expression for yourself, bitch. "Out of the office? Recently?"

She didn't look up, but just nodded slightly.

I pretended to consider that information for a moment, then stood up. "So much for being honest with me about when you see him, I guess" I spat. "You know, I really thought for a while there that you were trying to be a part of this family again, Karen. I guess we'll just never be enough, though, will we?" Then I stalked from the room. She didn't bother trying to follow.

As I sat down in the living room and picked up a book, I couldn't help smiling a little to myself. Mission accomplished. I would get to spend a whole week at Disneyland with my girls, and a whole week away from my whore of a wife.

And best of all, it was all her doing.

-

Karen's mom popped by for a visit a few days later. I'm not sure, but I don't think she noticed the distance between us. If she had, she'd probably have been happy about it.

Her mother had never really liked me. Actually, I think she probably hated me, and just had that womanly way of saying it without saying it. I'd love to tell you that I never understood why, but she was a church busybody and I was an honest atheist, so anything else I may say or do on this earth was entirely irrelevant. I'd never not be poison, to her mind.

I wondered what she'd think, if she knew her oh-so-perfect daughter was hanging the horns on me. Would she be tickled silly? Or would she be too scandalized to appreciate my suffering?

Frankly, I think it would depend on who was around to see her reaction.

She did comment, early on, that I looked thin. "Even men have to buy new clothes, if they're going to start dieting, John." She rolled her eyes when she said it. "Anyway, you should know that not everybody looks better when they're skinny."

"I'm not dieting," I told her. "I just haven't been hungry."

"Well, try to change that before you've dropped another belt size." She smiled sickly sweet at her daughter. "I'm not sure it's appreciated."

Karen very quietly went about making my favourite meal that night, and chewed on her lip all through supper as she watched me not eating it.

"John," she said gently at one point, glancing at the girls and trying to choose her words carefully, "it's hard enough to get them to eat without Daddy setting a bad example."

I levelled a long look at her, a thousand comebacks popping into my mind. But she was right. I sighed and tapped on my fork. "I'm not feeling well. I'm going to bed early."