A Town Without Honor Ch. 03

"She gave me several reasons, mostly about my not being around enough. I didn't know it yet, but she'd already cheated on me by then. She'd spent a whole week screwing my business partner on my last big trip. Only now was she getting around to asking me if I was happy, and letting me know she had issues. Even then, she didn't make much of it. She did ask me not to go on my next trip. To let her lover go instead. Unfortunately, there was a lot going on that trip that I couldn't delegate to anyone else. Or so I thought. If she'd told me her real problem, I would have figured out a way, even if it cost me millions. My marriage was worth that."

"Millions? Really? The trip was that important?" she asked.

"Absolutely. I was in final negotiations to sell a patent to another company, and the trip was part of the deal. The final piece. We were experiencing quality control issues with a vendor and I needed to find a new one in a hurry, or risk shutting down production. I also was hiring a new man to take a lot of the work off my hands, so I could spend more time with my family, and the trip was part of the interview process. It was important. I only wish I'd known."

"You would have scrapped it all for her," Jane said softly.

"Of course. I'd walk away from everything to save what we had. Crawl across a field of broken glass, swim an ocean of acid. She was my life, my everything. What I didn't know was that it was already too late."

I explained the return, the party, my deal in Manhattan, and getting back early. "I walked in on them. In my living room. My perfect wife, completely naked, riding my best friend and business partner on our couch. His damn brother was sitting there watching them, stroking his meat and waiting his turn. They had music playing and some porno movie showing on the big screen TV. My mind went blank. I couldn't process what I was seeing. It was impossible. Literally impossible. Not Beth. Never her.

"They never even saw me. I walked back outside and set their cars on fire, blew up the garage with a propane tank, and drove away, determined I was done with her, and them forever. I didn't know my nightmare was just beginning. It would get worse."

"Worse than your childhood love cheating on you with your best friend?"

"Far worse. My mother knew and was covering for them, watching the kids while she fucked around. She'd known from the beginning. From before it started. My sister knew. It turned out everyone knew. The whole fucking town. Ninety percent of the people working for me admitted they knew something was going on. Not a single one thought enough to tell me. Nobody. My entire family took her side. Complete betrayal, by everyone who mattered to me."

"Oh, Honor," she whispered softly. "Did they say why? It doesn't seem possible."

"They had plenty of excuses. My sister broke it down for me. They didn't like me. They liked her better. She was more family than I was. They didn't want us to break up, so they were trying to get her to stop, without my ever knowing. They would be happy to make me a cuckold, in front of the whole town, as long as nobody rocked the boat."

I was getting angry, and my leg was shaking. I was gripping the arm of the swing so hard my hand hurt. "Fucking traitors. All of them. I did everything for them. Worked my ass off to support the whole damn town. Two hundred and seventeen lives depended on the paychecks I paid out twice a month. I was putting a dozen of their kids through college on scholarships. My own secretary, I'd paid for her entire schooling and gave her a job. I trusted her completely. I thought she was devoted to me. She knew and didn't say anything. Not a fuckin' word. I couldn't stand it. I didn't want anything to do with any of them, ever again."

"What did you do?"

"I told them. I had a company meeting and told them I was done, and I couldn't work with any of them again. I gave my wife the company, with plenty of funds to keep it going for several months. I left the bastard who was fucking my wife in charge of the whole thing. He'd been with me from day one and had a wife and three kids to take care of. I met with the cheating slut and my mother, and gave them a chance to explain, and they had no reason. To hear Beth tell it, she was lonely when I was gone, he was chasing her, so she let him catch her. Forty times. Two trips, all week long. Let the bastard's brother do it too, for no reason. He was just a ready prick."

"It doesn't make sense, Honor. You must see that. There's something wrong with that story. There has to be more to it."

"Maybe. If so, nobody bothered to tell me, and I asked. Only one man in the entire town came up to me and was man enough to apologize. One man. I gave her everything and I left. I was afraid if I stayed around I would do something rash. Maybe even kill someone. Maybe several someones."

"That's how you ended up here?"

"No. I stayed gone about six weeks, traveling alone until I thought I had things under control. I went back, mostly for the kids. I wanted to sit down with Beth and see if I could understand why she did that to me. When I went to speak with her, she was sitting on that same fucking couch, where I'd caught her, and I lost it. Sitting on that God-damned couch, like nothing was wrong. All I could picture was her that day. Fucking my partner, happy as a clam to be cuckolding me. I ran out of the house and got physically sick. I couldn't do it. So I got back on my Harley and headed this way. Took me almost three weeks I guess, and now I'm here."

"And she's alone."

"No. Her mother is with her. I paid for her to go stay with my wife and the kids. Try to help out. See if she could figure out what happened. I talk to her and the kids almost every day. She still has no idea how it happened. Blames it on hormones after the birth of Billy. Billy's a year old, Jane. It didn't bother her for the first six months. Now, my daughter won't speak to me anymore. Four years old, and she says she hates me for making her mother cry all the time and not fixing it. That's my job, you know. Fixing it. Making things better. Always doing the right thing. My name and my legacy. Honor. I'll always do the right thing. What if the right thing is to leave her cheating ass? Think they'll be happy with that?"

"You still love her," Jane said. It was a simple statement, not a question.

"I love her. I probably always will. Ever since I was nine years old. I hate her. What she did to us, to me. I'll never have fifty-three years of marriage with the woman I love. Not now. She destroyed my past and my future because she couldn't keep her legs closed. I hate her more than I could possibly imagine."

She got up and sat in my lap. "Hold me, Honor?"

I held her and felt her body shaking. She was crying. I was the one whose life had been destroyed and she was the one crying. "What's wrong, Janie?"

She sniffed. "Do you believe in destiny?"

"I don't know. I thought I did."

She kissed my neck. "I do. When I saw you tonight. When you sang that stupid song for me. In that moment I knew, I absolutely knew that God had brought you to me. Nothing had ever worked out for me, and then there you were. Beautiful, larger than life, hurting. All that pain. I knew I was there to heal your hurt. Then you played while I sang. It had never been like that. It couldn't. We were perfect. I knew that we were connected. Destiny. We were meant to be together."

She sighed. "Now I know the truth. You're leaving. You're going back to her, and you still love her. She shat all over your marriage, and the whole community turned their back on you. Your family betrayed you, your own mother. It doesn't matter, though. You're going back. You'll fix things for everyone. You'll give them another chance."

She looked up at me, tears in her eyes, before I could deny or explain. "They all get a second chance, and you and I will never get our first. We would be perfect together. As good as Beth, maybe better, but we'll never know. She got you first. Four fuckin' years old, and she stole your heart. We never had a chance. I'm sorry, Honor."

I tried to hold her, but she pulled out of my arms, standing. "I won't take another woman's man. I'm not like her. If you ever really do the right thing, look me up. I won't wait for you; I think that might take a lifetime. But I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere."

She took my hand and pulled until I stood up. "I need to go home now, Honor. Have myself a good cry. I'll see you around, okay? Let me know when you go."

I walked her to her car, and she gave me a parting kiss on the cheek.

"Are you good to drive?" I asked.

"Sober as a church mouse," she said. She chuckled, "Still trying to do the right thing, aren't you? I'll be fine."

I wasn't sure I would be. I went inside and tried to be amiable as I sat in the kitchen and drank some coffee. I turned down the opportunity to join the last few revelers in the living room. Diane came and sat with me for a bit.

"Rough night?" she asked.

"Pretty bad," I confessed.

"I thought you and Jane were looking good there for a while."

Probably looking for more gossip. "She's great. Any man would be lucky to have her. Unfortunately, I'm married with two kids and a whole fucking town depending on me."

I looked up at the clock and it was 4:00 am. "Do your parties ever end?"

She laughed. "Usually before this. Most weekends there's something going on somewhere in the family. Your presence made it my turn."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a hell of a shindig. You were a hit. A pity it took ya thirty years to come home. You belongs here."

I chuckled. "I wish. I'll have to go back sometime. As soon as I can do it without going insane."

"No rush. Stay as long as you want. Someone will put you up until you're settled in."

"A few more days." I smiled. "I promised Uncle Luke and Nanny I'd join them for dinner. I keep my promises."

"I bet you do. Let me makes you a promise. My door is always open and there's always a place at the table. Never forget that. I keeps my promises too."

I finished my coffee and said my goodbyes. I was sober as well. I shouldn't be, but love, hate, anguish, and disappointment had burned the alcohol out of my system. That or I hadn't been drinking enough in the last four or five hours to keep me buzzed. I got on my bike and headed back to the hotel.

I had my nightmares. I was home and Beth was outside on the porch, her naked upper body leaning in through the window. I could see the man behind her, pounding into her, her body shaking. "It'll be perfect now, Honor," she said, smiling at me, trying to keep her moans subdued. "Everything's perfect. I love you Honor. You're the only man for me. Nobody will ever come in me again." Jenny, my secretary was passing out condoms to the men as they approached. There was a bucket, two-thirds full of used condoms at her feet. I knew there was another one behind her, already full.

My mother was standing in the doorway to the back porch, thinking she was blocking my view of the queue lining up to fuck my wife. I was standing in the middle of the floor, chains weighing me down. More chains than Ebeneezer Scrooge on his way to Hell. They stretched out in all directions. One went through the window to Beth's ankle. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. Another went to my mother, but it was different, alive, moving like a snake. Two huge ones headed to the back of the house, to my children, where my sister was watching them, so they wouldn't get in my wife's way. Dozens more stretched throughout the town, to the homes of the men waiting for their turn. To the company entrance. Stretching hundreds even thousands of miles to universities across the country.

One long chain reached all the way to Newfoundland, but it ended, open, outside of a door. I could see where Janie would step over it when she left her apartment. She didn't even look down. Not even when it became a huge snake and tried to bite her from behind.

* * *

I thought I'd take it easy the following day, but my new extended family had other ideas. After another aborted Skype attempt to speak to my daughter, I was railroaded into taking a short trip out to Witless Bay, for a whale and bird tour. My hosts were Ronnie and Jeff, Jane's first cousin, the young man who'd been reciting the Shooting of Dan McGrew with his grandfather. The trip was breathtaking, and we spotted numerous whales, several which the tour operator identified from the markings on the flukes. The tour boat headed out to Gull Island, a decent sized rock maybe half-a-mile long, virtually covered in birds. I was told it was the largest colony of Atlantic Puffins in the world. There were a hell of a lot of them, that was for sure. Loud and smelly. I took lots of pictures, dozens.

Motoring into the harbor and back from the rock, we had some time to talk. I asked them about their jobs, but it turns out that like some 20 percent of those under 25 years old, they were unemployed, both recent grads of the University of Newfoundland.

Turned out that many of the locals would leave the Rock to get jobs on the mainland, Labrador and Toronto especially. Many would have family locally, and travel for work. Diane's husband was one of them.

It seemed a shame, they both seemed sharp, but they shrugged it off. Ronnie had worked at the brewery for a while but had got caught in some layoffs. Jeff was still looking for his first job after college. No wonder they had time to escort me around.

As we got off the boat, I was informed, like it or not, I would be going on a pub crawl in St. Johns that night. I couldn't help myself and asked if Jane would be there.

"Not a chance in hell," Jeff informed me. "Howfore? She'll tease, but she won't please. Trust us, you won't be lonely tonight."

"I'm married," I reminded him.

"We're not gettin' ya hitched, b'ye," Ronnie butted in. "A bit o' soft squeezable is all."

I was railroaded into going, with a few of the younger males. No female relatives. Not that we were alone for very long. The guys all seemed to have the gift of gab, and I was a curiosity from the looks of things.

By the third pub, before dark, I wasn't feeling so bad about going out with my new best friends. I found myself standing with a 'squeezable' young thing or two, leaning close and talking up a storm. As we walked to yet another crowded pub, Ronnie pulled me aside, arm around my shoulders. His head was leaning against mine, and I almost crapped when he kissed me. "I loves ya, I do. Yer family, but yer a damn sook! No one wants to hears yer misery! Let's see a little Yankee charm now before I gives ya a crack."

I tried to take his words to heart, as much as I could understand and didn't talk about my home life. I told tales, about my travels, my job, and of course, what I thought of Newfoundland. The girls seemed to be hanging around longer, laughing with me, sliding under my arm given half a chance. They were exceedingly friendly.

Our crowd grew, and I didn't mind buying every other round. Fuck, it was only money. I received more than a few kisses for my generosity. Only fair right?

Ronnie was pacing me, controlling my intake subtly, stealing away drinks if I seemed to get too loaded. I called him on it a few times, and he laughed. "Can't have ya passin' out. We're just gettin' started, b'ye."

I had a nice drunk on and was feelin' little pain. My Newfinese was improving; I swear I could understand better'n 90% of what I heard.

We hit a side street, where the crowd tapered off. Entered a pub, half empty, where my mates seemed to know everyone. I learned we'd reached our final destination for the night. I realized the young lady I'd been walking with had been beside me for the last two bars, and her thank you kisses were lasting near as long as the drink.

I stepped up to the bar and looked for my wallet. Jeff stood beside me. "I gots it here. You've spent enough."

I argued with him, and it nearly came to blows. Ronnie jumped in as did Neal, yet another cousin. They warned me I'd already spent over $400 dollars. I'd be broke and they'd catch hell.

In my impeccable drunken logic, I explained that if I spent four million I wouldn't be broke. Even if I did, I could make it back before either one of them found a job. I was sitting on a gold-mine. I managed to get my hands on the wallet and pulled out my Platinum Card. "Twenty-five thousand dollar limit. Buy the house a round and start a tab for my family and friends."

Jeff was still arguing. "No chance. Me mudder finds out, there won't be 'nuff of me left to pray over. And that's if I'm lucky and Nanny don't catch wind of it."

My fog lifted enough for me to see they meant well. "I loves ya, b'ye, but I gots more money den God," I told them in my best Newfie speak. "Seriously. I never spend a dime on myself. I can afford one night out."

A familiar voice spoke from over my shoulder, and I heard Jeff mutter. "Oh, shit!"

"Let him. It's one night. Get it out of his system."

It was my Jane. I grinned at her, reaching out. "C'mere, Ducky. I loves ya, I do."

She glared at me and gave a meaningful look at the young lady who was stuck to me like a barnacle.

"Janie, meet Shannon. She's been kind enough to keep me company."

She turned to her cousin, face flushing. "Jeffery. Yer one right bastard."

He shrugged. "No harm. Just lettin' off some steam."

She turned away and sat on a stool at the end of the bar. Damn, she looked angry.

I got my way, partially. They wouldn't let me use the card, but I convinced them to let me spend my cash. I'm sure they were surprised when I pulled off my belt, unzipped the back, and took out a thousand dollars, my emergency money. That with the couple of hundred in my wallet assured we could finish the night strong. The cousins made sure it was clear who was on my tab. About eight guys by now, and a few more girls than that. Most some kind of distant relation.

Ronnie tore me away from my new best 'squeezable' friend, but not before I got another thank you kiss. He dragged me to a small stage in the corner. Stuck a guitar in my hand, and even in my hazy state, when he insisted I show them I was a Newf, I joined him in playing a few of the songs he'd tutored me on.

A microphone was stuck in front of my face, and I sang the Ryan's and the Pittmans, loud and lustfully. There were enough people singing along to help me get the words right for most of the verses.

We played a couple of more favorites, and I was getting better. I had a stool to lean against when my legs felt wobbly. I was having an easier time remembering the right chords and playing better. Guess I wasn't quite as drunk as I thought. That, or too drunk to know the difference. Someone brought me a drink, and I was a little disappointed to find it was water and not another beer.

One more song, before Ronnie gave me a shove. "It's on ya, Honor. Give 'em your best. None of that sookie shite."

Like most budding guitarists, there had been a few power ballads that I'd wanted to learn growing up. Stairway to Heaven. Dust in The Wind. More than Words.

Without much thought, I moved my fingers high up the neck and started the distinctive intro to a song I'd nearly killed myself learning. Dozens of hours, reading tab, listening along on a CD. All the little flourishes that make the difference, the bends, pulls, hammer-ons, pacing, tempo, volume. It was my best. Now if I could only do it justice, more than a bit drunk. Halfway into the intro, the endless hours of muscle memory took over, and it was automatic.

I might not have Jon Bon Jovi's voice, but I wasn't afraid to belt it out.

♫ It's all the same, only the names will change