A Simple Man

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There was never any confrontation.
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This is a re-post of a 2007 story that has been re-edited.

There is no sex in this sorry.

***

I am a simple man. I drive a bulldozer for a living. It's a fair living and I have provided well for my wife, Marcie and two sons, Jason, 15 and Troy, 16. We have a modest home that is just about paid off and enough money in the bank to ensure that the boys can get to college. Marcia and I have been married 18 good years, or so I thought. I seemed to have aged normally, gained a little weight, lost a little hair and added a few wrinkles. My work keeps me in good shape but my hands are a little calloused and rough. Marcie, on the other hand, has aged very nicely. As she got older her body seemed to fill out more and her hair and general appearance made her stand out in a crowd. I was very proud to have her for a wife. She dressed well and knew just the right way to groom herself for the maximum effect.

So why am I in doubt about the condition of my marriage? I guess like most guys I became complacent and comfortable the way things were. I thought that since I was happy that Marcie was also. I never looked for trouble and never had any reason to suspect anything. I am trusting by nature and I assume that made me a little gullible.

For about the last six months it seems that Wednesday night supper has been a better meal than usual. I didn't know why and at first it didn't seem abnormal. Marcie was always upbeat and seemed pleased to layout a special feast for the family, and we all enjoyed it. Then I also noticed that on Wednesdays she was always dressed more casually than normal. She would have on sweats or some type of lounging wear. Not the type of dress that she would outside the house. Every other night of the week she had on her normal attire until bedtime. By supper time on Wednesdays, she had already changed her clothes.

I am not a hamper diver. At the end of the day, I just throw my dirty clothes in the hamper and move on. Tonight I just had to look deeper. I didn't even know Marcie owned a black bra and panties. Lord knows I never saw her wear them. There they were, laying in the bottom of the basket under some damp towels. It almost looked like the towels were put down to purposely cover them up. It was like she felt sure that I would never look there. She knew me pretty well. I guess I should have picked them up and checked them for lord knows what, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I wondered if everything was connected. The great meal on Wednesdays. The early change of clothes. The new fancy underwear. Sometimes I wished I wasn't such a simple trusting jerk. Since it appeared to have been going on for about six months I felt it was time to look into it a little further. If she was doing anything behind my back she was being pretty careful.

My company issued each of us a handheld GPS for help in site location. The next Wednesday, before I went to work, I turned it on and placed it on the floor behind the driver's seat in Marcie's Volvo. The batteries would last 14 hours. I had a hard time concentrating on work all day thinking about what I was going to find. After another great supper, I felt confident that my plan would yield the results I was looking for but hoping not to get. Marcie suspected nothing as I left the house to go to the auto parts store.

After installing fresh batteries in the GPS I was on my way. The GPS first took me to a drug store a few miles from the house and then directly to the Airport Marriott. I was able to get to within three feet of where she parked her car. You got to love these gadgets. The route then led home, after stopping at a grocery store along the way. Now I had to wait a whole painful week for my next step. I did stop at the auto parts store on the way and believe it or not they sold car door jimmy bars.

Everything was fine when I got home. Marcie and the kids were watching TV and it seemed like one big happy family, as always. I took a shower and checked the hamper. At the bottom was a set of light olive green silky underwear. Before going downstairs to join the family I peeked in her underwear drawer, It the back, behind her everyday underwear, were several sets of fancy stuff. They were not new. I carefully closed the dresser drawer and went to sit with my loving wife.

I had no trouble getting the next Wednesday off. I found a nice spot in the back of the Marriott parking lot where I wouldn't be noticed and got comfortable. A cooler with water and some snacks would tide me over quite well. I figured she would be getting there after lunch but did not know for sure. Finally, after my tenth Sudoko puzzle I spotted the Volvo pulling into the same spot as the week before. She just sat in the car for over ten minutes until a silver PT cruiser parked about twenty feet from her. He got out of the car and went up to room 121. As soon as he unlocked and opened the room door, Marcie briskly walked over and went in.

It took less than ten seconds for me to jimmy the door on the cruiser and another ten to get the registration out of the glove box. I couldn't decide if I should wait till they came out or just leave. Since I was dying to take a leak I left.

Todd Marshall seemed to be in his mid-thirties. He was good looking and well dressed. I could see why Marcie was attracted to him. He was everything I was not and would never be. On my way home I drove by the address on the registration. It was a small, modest house in a well-established neighborhood. It didn't look like a family home and there were no indications of kids anywhere around. It seemed as if he would have no trouble getting women his age or younger and I could not figure out why he wanted Marcie. I guess she was far more desirable than I had thought. Now I didn't know what to do.

The kids were both gone Sunday and Marcie and I were relaxing with the paper. She seemed a little tense and finally spoke.

"John", she started "is something wrong? you seem a little distant lately."

I wanted to avoid answering her. I do very poorly at confrontation.

"Nothing is wrong. I guess I am just tired. Working extra hours to get the kids college money together is starting to take its toll."

"You always worked long hours. I thought you were used to it."

"Sort of, but then I worry about a lot of things. I worry that I am not being attentive enough to you. I worry that I am not being the best husband that I could be. Bringing in a good salary is important but not the most important. Are you happy?"

"Of course I am happy. I have a beautiful home, two great kids, a wonderful husband, and a new Volvo. What more could a woman want?"

For some reason that pissed me off. I have never yelled at my wife or been critical in any way but listening to her tell me how great everything was and knowing she was cheating was too much for me. I got up, grabbed my jacket and started walking towards the door.

"John, what the hell is the matter? What did I say that pissed you off?"

"I'm sorry. Was I that obvious?"

"Yes. I never saw you upset like this. Are you sure you aren't having some other problems you want to talk about? I have always been here for you. How can I help?"

That was more than I could handle. The stupid thing was, I had brought it all on myself. I didn't want this. I wanted everything to be like it was. I wanted peace and tranquility. Why the hell did she start this conversation?

I stood by the door and looked straight at her. "Just answer one question for me and answer it truthfully. As long as you answer truthfully everything will be okay. If you lie or avoid the answer I don't know what will happen. OK?"

"Of course it is okay. I have never lied to you, John. Why would I lie now?"

"I have never questioned your fidelity and I have always felt that you have been honest and truthful in our relationship but I have to ask this."

"Okay."

"Who are you meeting over at the Aiport Marriott hotel every Wednesday and why?"

Marcie stood and looked at me with her mouth half-open. She seemed shocked at the question. She was nervous and uneasy. Her eyes darted to the floor and around the room as if looking for a way out and knowing there was none.

Finally, she spoke quietly and slowly. "I don't know why you would ask me such a thing after all our years together? I'm disappointed that you don't trust me and that you would even think such a thing."

I stood looking at her, waiting for an answer, but none came.

"I guess that answers my question. I'll never bring it up again. I am going out for a while. Don't wait up."

She was quiet as I walked out the door, but while I was getting in the truck she started yelling for me to come back into the house and talk. I felt like getting drunk.

Marcie was in bed when I finally came home. She didn't move or make a sound when I got in beside her. The next morning she was acting as if nothing had happened. The boys were not aware that anything was going on between us. Breakfast was as usual but quiet. I left for work without saying anything.

Supper that Wednesday was as it used to be before her affair. She wore normal clothes and the meal was good, but not special. I assumed she had not seen her lover that day. A quick check of the hamper seemed to prove my suspicions, just plain cotton underwear. I decided that I had to do a better job keeping track of what she was doing. Marcie got a cell phone about six months ago, but I didn't. After a little looking around, I found that I could call a certain number and check her cell phone calling log at any time and it was up to date within the hour. I never got to see the cell phone bills because Marcie got the mail and paid everything from the joint account. I also realized that Marcie and I had a limited number of friends so I had no idea what she was using the cell phone for. I always called with the house phone and so did the kids. Marcie used the house phone when she was home also. Just for the hell of it, I got my own prepaid cell phone. No bills, no contract and it was cheap for what I needed it for. I could check her calling log anytime from anyplace.

As you all have guessed by now, ninety percent of her cell calls were to and from the same number. She called Todd eight times and he called her six times since I confronted her on Sunday. I was dying to know what they talked about but had no idea how to arrange that. For the next three weeks, they continued to talk a couple of times a day and then one Wednesday we had a great supper. The black outfit was at the bottom of the hamper. You think she might have figured that out by now. The next Wednesday morning the GPS was back in the car.

Marcie was no longer going to the Marriott. The GPS went straight to 321 David Drive, Todd Marshall's house. At least we had a good supper that night. I could no longer accuse her of meeting someone at the Marriott.

The next Wednesday I took off work and drove to the Marriott. I took a couple of bottles of water, a sandwich, and my Sudoko book. Finally got to use my cell phone for something practical, I called a cab. He dropped me off at the bus stop bench down from Todd's house. About two hours later Marcie showed up. She parked the Volvo a half block from his house and walked right in the front door. I had the spare key for her precious car. It took me about twenty minutes to drive to the Marriott and park the Volvo in the exact spot she parked in a month before. Just in case, I wiped it down and locked it before driving home. Marcie did not know I would be home, and I watched the silver PT cruiser drive by the house twice before it dropped her off at the corner. My truck was in the driveway and I am sure it gave them some concerns.

"What are you doing home, John?"

"The dozer broke about 2 o'clock and they just told me to take the rest of the day off."

'Well, I got some bad news. I was at Walmart and the Volvo was stolen."

"Was it locked?"

"Yes, it was locked. I was only there a short while and when I came out it was gone. I called the cops and reported it right away. I would have called you but I didn't think you would be home."

"What did you buy?"

"Nothing, I was looking at TVs for Xmas. That's not important anyhow."

"How did you get home?"

"The police dropped me off."

"Oh. I didn't see the car."

She gave me an exasperated look and started up the stairs.

"Marcie, how about if I order Pizza for supper?"

"That's fine."

Guess where I found the red lace underwear.

Friday night when I came home from work the Volvo was in the garage.

"I see you got your car back."

"Yes, they called this afternoon."

She sat at the kitchen table looking at the cup of coffee in front of her. Her fingers were twirling around the cup handle as if she was obsessive-compulsive. She was disheveled and looked tired. She refused to look at me or acknowledge my presence more then she had to. I went upstairs and took a shower. When I came down she had not moved.

I sat on the living room couch and picked up the paper as she put her cup in the sink. She started up the stairs. "Where did they find the car?" I asked. My head was away from her so she could not see the smirk on my face. She paused momentarily and then continued up to the bedroom. It was a bad move on my part. I never should have said that. It was out of character and cruel. I always regretted it. We ordered Pizza again that night and I explained to the boys that their mom wasn't feeling well.

Wednesday suppers returned to normal as did her attire. I monitored the phone calls and there were none. She was not getting her money's worth out of that cell phone. As the weeks went by with no changes I started to check the phone records less and less. The situation between Marcie and I had deteriorated to just sharing the house. There was no sex or anything close. No kiss good night or goodbye in the morning. Our conversations were limited to what was necessary to function. It was a miserable time but destined to go downhill.

I was doing routine checks on her cell phone usage and then after about three months I happen to do a check and discovered the new phone calls. I was crushed. I didn't expect the situation to get better but I had hoped it would not get worse. He contacted her first and then there were several exchanges in a short period. I prayed that it would never come to this but my prayers went unanswered. I noticed a slight change in her mood and knew she was up to no good. I went back to the daily check on the phone activity.

Todd Marshall worked for a local Chrysler dealer. On Wednesday morning I wandered into the dealership knowing he would not be there. I figured out that Todd had every Wednesday off. After pretending to look at the cars I wandered down the hall toward the restrooms and employees' lounge. There was a trophy case in the hall full of bowling trophies. There was a picture of Todd with the rest of the bowling team. One of the salesmen came walking out of the lounge.

"Wow, that's an impressive collection you guys won," I said trying to be casual.

"Yes, we are pretty proud of the team. We stink at softball so this makes up for it."

"Where does your team bowl?"

"Crystal Lanes down on Elkmont every Friday night. Are you interested in any particular car?"

"No, I am just here for service."

I spent a few more minutes looking around the showroom before leaving for Crystal Lanes. The main building was a long steel, preformed structure set perpendicular to the road. There was parking all along the side backed with a row of trees and bushes. The lot lighting seemed to be a little sparse which fit my plans. I went inside and checked the league bowling schedules which were posted in plain view.

Friday night the boys were having a high school football game. Marcie didn't enjoy going to the games and was not anxious to go with me anyhow. It gave me an excuse to get out of the house.

Marcie was sitting at the kitchen table when I came down for a late breakfast. Her eyes were red and puffy. It was plain to see that she had been crying pretty hard. She glared at me as I entered the room with hatred that I had never seen before. She said nothing. As I got coffee she left the room and went upstairs. I sat down and reached for the newspaper that was in front of her.

"Police found the body of Todd Marshall in the Crystal Lanes parking lot late last night. It appears that he was the victim of a brutal mugging as he left the bowling alley following league play. His wallet was found in a dumpster a block from the crime scene. The money and credit cards were missing from the wallet. Police have no clues or suspects at this time."

His watch and credit cards went down a storm drain and I doubt that they would ever show up. The timing was perfect. I showed up at the boy's football game when it started and I was there when it ended. I gave the boys a ride to and from the game. I felt bad for Marcie but I felt nothing for Todd.

Marcie spent the whole day in the bedroom crying. I didn't try to talk to her or console her. If I confronted her, there was no way she could explain why she was crying without incriminating herself. I did not want to screw up like I did the last time. I slept on the couch that night.

Marcie had Sunday breakfast ready as she usually did. She looked fresh and rested but was somber and listless. She didn't do anything wrong but she was not her old perky self. She politely asked the boys how the football game went and apologized for not making it there. There was no eye contact between the two of us. I didn't push it. The boys and I spent most of the day mowing, raking and pruning. Lunch and supper were strained for me, but the boys didn't seem to notice. I tried to sleep in the bed that night but ended up on the couch again.

Inside of Todd's wallet was a small picture of Marcie standing in a room naked. Her boobs and dark bush were showing and there was a big smile on her face as she posed for it. It wasn't pornographic, just sexy. She looked very pretty in the picture except it wasn't meant for me to see. I placed the picture in her underwear drawer under her sexy stuff.

Our life continued as normally as it could. Marcie was doing all the things she usually did but seemed to be spending more time on each task. She was organizing and rearranging things constantly. The meals were fine but never up to the special Wednesday ones. One day I checked the underwear drawer and the photo and special underwear were all gone. She never said anything about the picture. I don't know what happened to any of it.

That week the house at 321 David Drive was put up for sale by Todd's brother. It took a while but I was finally able to convince the bank to let me assume the mortgage payments in my name alone and then I proceeded to rent it out.

We never talked about anything that happened. If we didn't talk about it we could pretend that it never happened. We were both fooling ourselves. One day during a lull in our non-conversation she turned to me.

"John, do you think we should consider a divorce?"

It was a serious question and the first time anything of this nature came up.

"No. Not yet. Wait till the boys are both finished with high school and then it will be okay,"

She sort of smiled as if the option I gave her was better then none at all. I left it at that.

Time passed and everything stayed about the same. Marcie was becoming more and more like an obsessive-compulsive person living in her own world. The boys and I didn't confront her. I think they knew something was going on but they were in denial just like Marcie and I were. Although we shared the same bed there was no sex. We tolerated each other for some obscure reason. Troy graduated and left for Penn State. Jason was already accepted and would be leaving shortly. I decided it was time to see the lawyer.

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