A Cross Country Trip

I got busy and didn't notice them again. When I finally got a free minute, I looked for them. But Shelia and her friends were nowhere in the building. Their waitress told me that they left about 11:00. I thought that 11:00 was early to call it quits on a Saturday night, but I soon forgot about the whole thing because it got busy again.

It was a couple of weeks before Shelia came into the bistro for lunch with her girlfriends. The girlfriends came to the counter and ordered lunch for all of four of them. Shelia stayed at the table. I smiled at her and waved. It was the usual gesture I gave to all my repeat customers.

I got a dirty look in return.

I assumed she was either having a bad day or it was a case of PMS. "So what's up with sour puss? She having a bad day?" I commented to one of her friends.

"You should know. You spoiled our whole evening in YOUR club on that Saturday night we stopped," was the answer I got back.

Before I could reply another customer interrupted us with their demands. By the time I back the counter the girls had returned to their table. Now I was pissed. I walked out of the bistro with the liquor license in hand and headed to my office and the copier.

I returned about 5 minutes later with a copy of the state liquor and food licenses plus my driver's license. I headed directly to their table then dropped both state license copies on their table while showing my driving license. "Do you see my name on the state documents? I'm just the manager! So that's that" which was all I said while turning on my heel and stomping away.

I stormed back to the counter and started working on reducing the customer back up.

The next time it slowed down enough, I looked at the girl's table. There were different people sitting there. One of the waitresses noticed where I was looking, "They left shortly after your temper tantrum," she commented.

I guess I must have addressed them a little louder than necessary. They left without eating but did pay the check and tip the waitress. I figured that if they returned, I'd refund their meal costs and so I informed the wait staff.

It was a Friday night and I was outside grabbing a well deserved break. It was still early evening and I had another 4-5 hours yet to go before I could call it a night. I was sitting on a decorative bench near the entrance to the dining room, just enjoying the fresh air. On Friday and Saturday nights I had to employ a doorman because of the crowds wanting to hear and dance to the band.

There were more people trying to get in than my little club could accommodate. It was a classic case of one person out before another person could enter. You would be surprised at the tricks some people tried to pull to get in the club. But my door man was a retired football line backer. At 6'5" and 300 lbs, nobody got past him unless he wanted them too.

There was a long line tonight. Most of the folks in line would not gain entrance tonight. I listened to my doorman gently handle the wanna-be attendees. He was polite, but firm, passing out coupons for free nibbles in the bistro good for a week. The people receiving the free-bees left with good feelings about the club, next time resolving to arrive earlier.

For the folks who decided to wait in line and hope for possible admission, I had one of the waitresses walking up and down the line with snacks. It kept the people happy and added to a party atmosphere. It was because of these little kindnesses, my crowds kept coming back and spending their money.

My break over I stood to return inside when I noticed Shelia and her three friends join the end of the line. I knew that they stood no chance of making it inside that night; the line was just too long. I stuck my head in the rear kitchen door and asked to have a table for four set up at the edge of the dance floor.

I went back outside and pointed the girls out to one of the bouncers, asking him to escort them to the table via the kitchen door. I also instructed him that the girl's were not to receive a bill for the evening.

My final instruction was to assure that the girls had a good time.

I went back to work running the place. It was almost 1:30 before I was able to take a well deserved break. I was sitting on the bench shooting the bull with the doorman when I felt a presence behind me.

I looked and found Shelia and her friends waiting to be acknowledged. I smiled.

"We'd like to thank you for everything tonight," Shelia started. "I guess I miss-judged you before."

"The last time we were here on that Saturday, you bought us a round of drinks and then all the guys stopped asking us to dance and stuff," she continued. "Why did you put the word out on us?"

"I didn't do anything!" I protested. "There must have been a misunderstanding."

"I'll bet someone misunderstood our relationship," I continued.

I walked the girls back inside through the kitchen door. I whipped up a breakfast fit for a king for them. It was a little after 4:00 AM when they finally said goodnight. And I guess I'll admit I was more than just a little interested in Shelia. She was cute. She was about 5' 4" and a dark haired Italian beauty with the bluest eyes I had ever seen. She had body that wouldn't quit. She just radiated sex appeal. I'm a guy and I notice those kinds of things.

The next night was Saturday and the girls were standing in line when I arrived at 8:00 PM. I glanced at the doorman and all he said was, "Boss they got here about 7:00. I put them on the list for a special table."

I waved at the girls and walked around to the bistro door. I walked straight thru the bistro, the kitchen, and into the club where the staff was setting up for the night's crowd. I spotted the bouncer I had escort the girls in last night, all I said was, "Same girls as last night are in line. Same deal for them. Please make sure they have a good time."

"Uh Boss, some of the guys are a little concerned that you might get pissed at them if they asked the girls to dance. The boys respect you because of your Uncle," he commented.

"I sort of like the little dark haired one, but if she's a slut, I want to know now. Not months later," was my answer. As I walked away, I realized I had just declared open season on her to all the Romeos out there. Well hell, if she was easy, I'd just need to remember to wear protection, the good type.

"A guy still has to get laid once in a while," I thought.

It turned out that she wasn't easy. Too be exact, she was unused, a virgin I later found out when we became exclusive. No, I didn't change her status from being one, but I found out about her virgin status when I tried to "take it to a new level" and she shot me down.

"I want to stay pure for my husband. I want to honestly wear white when I walk down the aisle," was all she said. It took another six months, but I finally claimed her virginity, of course it was on our honeymoon.

The next four years were heaven. I was still putting in long hours at the restaurant. Shelia was staying at home the entire time trying to be a housewife. I knew she was bored so I suggested that we start a family for two reasons. The first being that I loved kids and the second being that I felt motherhood would better occupy Shelia's time.

She was a little reluctant at first but after about a month, we had a "throw the pills away" party. Five months later she still wasn't pregnant, so I visited my doctor for a checkup. I explained why.

After the physical check up part, he handed me a small plastic cup and motioned at the restroom. "Just bring me in a sample."

That day in their bathroom, I did something I haven't done since I was a teenager. Well not very often. The doctor got his "sample". For some reason, I didn't mention anything about the check up to Shelia. I guess I was just too embarrassed about the masturbation part.

Sheila and her three girl friends still managed to get together for a night out once or twice a month on a Friday or a Saturday night. Those were the two nights I was just too busy to accompany them. Two of the girl friends had gotten married and I always wondered how their husbands justified these nights out.

One lunch hour one of the husbands and a few of his co-workers stopped in the bistro for lunch. Not that we were exactly close friends but we had met at a few back yard picnics at someone's home. I stopped at their table to welcome him and be polite, plus I got to signal the waitress, "No Check."

I was making small talk when the husband dropped the bomb, "We need to get together soon, my wife has been complaining that she hasn't seen Shelia in months."

I remembered that Shelia commented, just the other day, that they had been together last weekend. I wished the guys goodbye claiming piles of paper work to complete before the dinner crowd. I just made it to the Men's Room before I lost my lunch. Shelia was lying to me.

When I got in my office, I called my Uncle and explained my fears.

All my Uncle Joe said was, "I'll look into it."

It was almost a month when I got the dreaded phone call. "We need to talk without Shelia," my Uncle said.

His limo showed up at the rear door the next day. We met over a light lunch in the private dining room.

"Gene, there's no easy was to say this so I'm just going to start. Shelia is screwing different men every time she is supposed to be out with the girls. She and her single girl friend are the star attractions at various gangbangs. The gangbangs are set up by a black pimp they know. The pimp finds the customers and collects the monies. The girls get none of the fees, they only get the enjoyment. The customers are mostly minorities."

He stopped for a breath and to allow me a chance to absorb the information. When he felt I was ready, he continued, "She has also been lying to you about wanting to start a family also. She is still on the pill."

"I guess I need a lawyer," was all I could muster.

"No!" he said. "There will be no divorces in my family. It just isn't done. You will not be shamed by your wife. I will not let her shame my family. I'll take care of her."

It took a month, before I found myself behind the steering wheel of the motor coach. I was told that I needed an alibi for the next month or two. On a Friday, instead of going to the bistro, I was driven to the motor home by one of the hard men and pointed west. They handed me some credit cards and some cash. I was told to "drive."

It took two days but suddenly my cell phone started ringing off the hook. I looked at the number on the display. I didn't recognize it. I let the call go to voice mail. There were probably 10 calls before I got the tone that indicated I had voice mail.

I suspected the caller was Shelia, my wife.

I pulled the motor home into a McDonalds, got a snack and coffee. Here I was in a $700,000 motor coach eating at McDonalds. Boy did I get a few funny looks.

Yeah, I was killing time. I didn't really want to listen to the message. But I manned up and dialed the voice mail number.

"Gene, where the hell are you? The house caught fire Friday night and I have no place to live. My credit cards don't work; the bank tells me that there is no money in our accounts. I have twenty dollars in my purse. Please call me."

I erased the message and pulled back out on the road. My Uncle had struck. Shelia was in for a rough time.

About two hours later, my cell started ringing again. This time I recognized the number it was the bistro phone in my office.

"Hello."

"Hi boss, you left a real shit storm here. Your wife was here demanding money. We had to call your Uncle for instructions. He told us to throw her ass out. So we did, physically. Your Uncle told me to tell you to keep all the receipts from your trip."

"Oh yeah one more thing. Use the company credit card. Your personal ones don't work anymore," he said.

I thanked him for the information then continued on to discuss restaurant business for almost 30 minutes. Food service had been my life for many years and I really didn't have anything to occupy my mind without it.

My GPS told me I was still in Ohio when I decided to call it quits for another day. I found a big Wal-Mart parking lot and parked in the rear for the night. Wal-Mart allows motor homes and campers to overnight in their parking lots. I took advantage of their largesse. I fixed myself something to eat and opened my laptop to read my email.

There were about twenty emails from Shelia. At first the tone of the messages was pleading but as the messages increased the soft, pleading tone turned shrill, and I realized what a demanding bitch Sheila was. She blamed me for all her problems.

There was one final email from a blank address. All it contained was a file attachment. When I open the attachment, I found a copy of a newspaper article about a woman who was gang raped by some nasty individuals. After they had sex with her, they beat her with a baseball bat. She was not expected to live.

The woman was Shelia's gang bang buddy.

I went to bed early that night, bushed from all the driving I had done over the last two days. I think I slept about 14 hours before my bladder woke me. I cleaned up, dressed, and walked into the store. They had a small snack bar so I ate and then replenished my supplies in the coach.

It was getting colder and my satellite radio indicated there was a storm headed my way. Well actually the storm and I were on a collision course. It was headed my way and I was driving straight into it. So I bought a bunch of winter gear, just in case I broke down or something.

It was almost noon before I got underway. With the GPS and my XM radio as my only company. Soon my cell phone started ringing again. I looked at the display and did not recognize the number. Like a good cell phone user, I didn't answer it while driving; instead I pushed the "Off" button. I suspected it was Shelia and I really didn't want to talk to her. She was my Uncle's problem now.

I listened to my XM radio and talked to the voice in my GPS. I know, I'm pathetic, but it kept my mind off the problems I was having at home. I drove until I was starting to fall asleep behind the wheel before pulling off the road into a truck stop. I parked between the big rigs and set up for the night.

I was up early the next morning, not because I wanted to be on the road, but because I forgot to close the curtains and the sun was shining in my face. I drained the snake then started a pot of coffee. I returned to the bathroom to shower and shave.

After dressing, I sat down with my laptop and a cup of coffee. I opened my email program with a little trepidation. I expected another bunch of email from Sheila lambasting me. This time there was only one email from her. It begged me to come home. I deleted it.

I sort of wondered how she was getting access to a PC to send me the email. Our house was destroyed by fire, she was not allowed in the restaurant, she had no money for a PC café and she wasn't bright enough to remember the free ones at the library.

My next email was again from the blank address. It consisted of two attachments. When I opened the first attachment, it was another news paper clipping. It seemed that Shelia's gang bang buddy had died of her injuries. No one was arrested for committing the crime.

The second attachment was another newspaper clipping from this mornings paper. This one described the murder of one Leroy Jones, a known pimp. It appeared he was stabbed in his sleep by one of his girls after beating her up pretty badly. The police found her sleeping in a pool of his blood, high on drugs, next to Leroy in their bed. The clipping went on to say that the prostitute, Mrs. Shelia D'Amico, was being held without bail pending arraignment. She was being kept under a suicide watch because of her mental state.

My wife was really going downhill. I suspected my Uncle Joe was sending a message to his people. He was using Shelia as an example not to play outside one's marriage.

The next couple of days were a blur. I drove continuously stopping only for fuel and a few hours of sleep. It was in Montana that I was forced to stop. The snow storm was so vicious that I just couldn't drive safely any longer.

It was there that I met Sharon and Tessa and my life started to have meaning again.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The weather was clear all the way to the West Coast. The three of us made good time and soon found ourselves in a camping area near Seattle.

Sharon and I described our lives before meeting. I left out what Uncle Joe did for a living but told her everything else. One night after Tessa was settled in bed, I explained that I was on this trip to get my head back on straight after finding out what Shelia was doing behind my back. I described what the detectives had discovered about my loving wife.

That night Sharon held me in her arms on the couch as I cried my soul out. I fell asleep in the comfort of her arms. The next morning I woke up with Sharon sleeping on top of me and a pair of little eyes watching me from across the room.

"Mommy says that a woman can only sleep with a man if they love each other. Do you love my Mom?"

I nodded "I think so".

"Then can I start calling you Daddy?" she asked next.

My eyes filled with tears, as I started to ponder how to explain to a six year old about adoption when I felt my chest getting wetter and wetter. Sharon lifted her head and I noted that her eyes were also filled with tears.

"Well Daddy, what are you going to tell her?"

"Well I guess I'll tell her 'OK' if you agree to marry me," I answered with a smile.

I was attacked by one very happy woman and one very special little girl. I guess I made the right choice.

Our little Hallmark moment was soon interrupted by a little voice notifying us she was hungry and shouldn't Daddy be making his famous French toast? Well Daddy had to stay under the blanket until his morning wood went down. Mommy started breakfast while keeping Tessa occupied so I could get up and into the bedroom and dress.

When I came back into the kitchen I heard Tessa talking to her mother, "But Mom, I still don't understand why Daddy had that big bump in the front of his underwear this morning. It wasn't there other mornings"

I retreated back into the bedroom. Better I let Sharon handle that conversation.

I listened as Sharon deftly switched the conversation over to French toast from erections and then panicked when she sent Tessa to ask me how many pieces of French toast I wanted and if I could leave the bedroom and cook them. I could hear the smile in Sharon's voice as she pointed Tessa at me.

That night after Tessa, resist as she did, finally succumbed to the sandman, I grabbed my laptop and sat down to read my email. It had been almost a week and there were a few. The first I opened was from that anonymous source. It contained a single attachment. It was an obituary.

I was a widower.

And that's how Sharon found me, my head in my arms and crying, when she returned from tucking Tessa in. She led me to the drop down bed and slowly undressed me. This time she did not stop at my underwear. She also stripped and joined me under the blankets. We didn't make love that night. She just held my head against her chest and tried to absorb my pain.

At first light I awoke to the sensation of my erection slowly sliding into a warm moist channel. I tried to pull it out, but I felt some teeth slowly gripping it. I was lying on my back and Sharon was on top holding me in her mouth. She started moving her mouth up and down my erection. I reached down and grabbed her head, trying to stop her. I felt those teeth again. When I let go of her head, the teeth stopped gripping me. Some people might call my reaction self-defense, but I liked to think of it as just getting smarter than the average bear.