A Whore and a Thief

A few weeks later I noticed that Ray was even more loving than he normally was. We spent a lot of time together normally, but it was as if Ray thought I was going away or something. Most of the time when that happened, it ended with Ray taking time off from work and going with me, because the two of us found it very difficult to be apart.

I was happy about it. I responded in kind and started finding ways to spend even more time with him. I started driving from the school to the plant he worked at for lunch. To most people it was a silly thing because I got an hour for lunch. It was a twenty minute drive to the plant. So we got, at most, fifteen or twenty minutes together. But the look on his face when I showed up was worth it.

It happened like lightning. It was completely out of the blue. Ray kissed me goodbye one morning and never came home. Ray's hours were as regular as clockwork. If he was going to be late he always called me.

So when seven rolled around and I hadn't heard from him. The first thought in my mind was that fucking car. I had heard from several people we knew that on occasion Ray drove that car like he was Jimmie Johnson on a NASCAR track. I never mentioned it because he had never gotten a ticket and had never been in an accident. I figured he'd never gotten into an accident simply because he loved that damned car too much to hurt it.

I called his cell phone and the call went straight to voicemail. I felt terror clutch my spine. Betty wandered over as she usually did and found me extremely upset. It was Archie who came up with a logical suggestion. "Call the plant," he said. "Ask them what time Ray left."

I did and immediately fell to my knees. I spoke to the production manager at the plant. We had known each other for more than fifteen years and he was a friend.

"Claire, is there something weird going on here?" he asked. "Ray's last day was yesterday. We had a going away party for him. But remind him of what I told him. If things don't work out he can always come back to work here."

I was stunned. I know that it sounds cliché but I blacked out. It seems like every man in the movies and on TV has a heart attack when they get extremely bad news. And in similar situations, the women always faint or black out like I did. Perhaps women have a safety valve that prevents them from having a heart attack by shutting their system down. But as corny as it sounds that's what happened to me.

Ray and I had been a part of each other's lives, the center of each other's worlds for over twenty years. We shared everything. Unlike some families where the husband and wife grow apart over the years, Ray and I had only each other. We had no secrets from each other except..."

No, I was sure that wasn't a possibility. Ray would have said something. Wouldn't he? I was sure that there was something else going on. I am after all fifty years old. Maybe Ray found a younger more beautiful woman to be with. My mind was churning out hundreds of scenarios. He had been kidnapped. Maybe he had been carjacked over that stupid fucking car. Every time we talked about that, his answers scared me. Whenever we heard about carjackings on the news, he always said the same thing. "I wouldn't give up my car. They'd have to shoot me," he always said.

We all knew that Ray could probably leave his car unlocked. That car might have been stripped for his expensive rims and custom parts but no one would steal a bright yellow muscle car. The car was simply too visible.

When I regained consciousness, I was in my bed. Betty was sitting in a chair next to me. She was dabbing my forehead with a cold towel.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You tell me," she said. "One moment you were on the phone, and the next, you were on the floor. I had Archie carry you up to bed."

"Ray quit his job yesterday," I said. "I have no idea where he is but he's had all day to get there and in that car, Ray could be anywhere in the country by now."

* * * * * *

Ray

I had driven for twelve hours straight. I kept my speed under a hundred, but always over the speed limit. I was careful when the freeway passed through smaller towns. A lot of them were notorious speed traps. I had an iPhone app that warned against towns where law enforcement issued an abnormal amount of tickets and also where the speed limits were lower than normal.

There were a couple of places where the app issued a warning tone and I slowed to a near crawl only to spot a Sheriff Buford T. Justice lookalike hiding behind a hedge or a large road sign waiting for a speeder.

My Mustang's biggest weakness was of course her gas mileage. Before this trip I had never really considered it a weakness. To be truthful, I didn't really give a fuck about gas mileage. When I needed gas, I bought it; end of story.

As I passed one of those lurking, beer-bellied, 70's porn moustached, Steven Seagall Lawmen looking guys, he slipped in behind me and followed me to the local gas station. As I filled my tank he came over to talk.

He walked around my car looking over each and every detail. Finally, he started talking.

"What chu doin' round here?" he asked.

"Just passing through," I said.

"That car looks pretty fast. Can I see a license and registration?" he asked. He gave me a good old boy smile that revealed a couple of missing teeth. "Just tryin' ta make sure the vee-hickle ain't stolen."

Just for shits and giggles I showed him my license and registration. "What do you do for a livin' Mr. Gunn?" he asked.

"Why is that important?" I asked.

"I'm trying ta find out what kind of work let's ya put togetha a monster like that one. The thrumming from that engine is like music. Your brake rotors are damn near as big as some cars' tires. Right now I'm wondering how this little pony might compare with my rig over there. But of course with you bein' a law abidin' citizen we'll never know."

"I'm an automotive engineer," I said. "And how do you know I'm a law abidin' I mean abiding citizen?"

"Ah looked inside your little wagon there for signs of an illegal radar or laser da'tectin' dee-vice and you ain't got one. A car lack that un' and a open stretch a pristine highway ... but you were doing the speed limit. It don't seem ... natural. Unless a course, you done already had a bunch a speedin' tickets and can't get another one."

"Ah'm really wondrin' what would happen if you let that pony run," he said.

"We already know," I said. "Unless this town has a helicopter you'd never catch me." He spat a big blob of tobacco on the ground and laughed.

"An' how da we know that?" he laughed.

"Your car is a 2013 Dodge Charger Police interceptor. You opted for the hemi V8. Your car puts out a very respectable 392 horse power. The standard car weighs 4400 lbs. Your car has all of that stiffening and armor that makes it heavier than the standard model, but without an increase in horsepower. You have a better suspension and better brakes too. Your car does the quarter mile in 14.3 seconds that's a tad slow. My car has a supercharged modular V-8 that puts out close to 600 horsepower and weighs 800 lbs less than yours. Without air support you couldn't keep me in sight. It's a good thing I AM a law abidin' citizen."

He spat another blob of tobacco on the ground and then looked at me. "Keep on," he spat. I was confused.

"Keep on what?" I asked.

"Passing through," he sneered. Then he wandered back to his car and drove away. I went into the station and grabbed a wild cherry Pepsi and a bag of bacon and cheese potato skins. I kept to the speed limit until I was out of town and clear.

I spent the night in a homey but cheap motel. I had an idea of where I wanted to go and I had job leads on plants on three different southern states that our plant did business with. My intention was to interview for the jobs as an outsider. If I had tried to ask for a transfer the company would keep records of it and Claire might be able to trace me.

Bright and early the next morning, I bit the bullet. I pulled out my phone and hit the button. After the phone rang several times, Archie answered.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked.

"Archie, I'm glad the two of you are there with her," I said. "I did this on a Friday to make it as easy on her as possible. That way she'll have a couple of days off so she doesn't have to skip out on her students."

"Fuck her students," he said. "What's going on?"

"Ambrose," I said. "I know everything."

"I have no idea what the hell you 're talking about," he said. And knowing Archie, I could tell that he was being honest.

"Arch, I'll call you tonight and tell you everything, but for now I need to speak to Claire," I said.

"Ray ... Honey, where are you?" she asked. Her voice was thick with emotion and she sounded desperate.

"Claire, I just want you to know that I loved you," I said. "I loved you so much that even right now, I hurt."

"Then come home," she said desperately.

"I can't Claire," I said. "We can't be together anymore."

"Why not!" she screamed. Her voice was filled with desperation and rage. She was trying very hard to keep a handle on her emotions. I think she sensed that if she pissed me off, I would disappear.

"I know everything, Claire," I said. "I know about you and Ambrose. I know you cheated on me. I know you sold your wedding vows and I can't be married to a whore."

For a long time all I heard was the sound of her crying. Then Betty picked up the phone. "What did you say to her?" she asked. "Ray, how can you be so cruel?"

There was some scrambling and then I was talking to Claire again. "Okay, I'm a whore," she said. "It didn't mean anything. Did it Ray? I was right. It didn't change us at all. We still love each other. I know you love me. I can even feel it over the phone line. This is tearing both of us apart. Ambrose, didn't take anything from us. I still belong only to you and I always will."

"Maybe we do belong together," I said. "A whore and a thief. We're a match made in hell."

"What did you ever steal, beside my heart," she said.

"I didn't steal your heart," I said. "You gave it to me, the same way I gave you mine."

"Then what did you steal?" she asked.

"Your money," I said. "The money Ambrose gave you for destroying our marriage and ruining my life. I've also seen the video on the flash drive. I know everything."

Whatever reaction I was expecting, it wasn't the one I got. "Half of it was always yours anyway," she laughed. "I don't give a fuck about that money. Spend it all. Buy twenty Mustangs. Ray all, I've ever wanted is us. I made a mistake. I made ONE damn big mistake. But I've been paying for it ever since."

I hung up the phone. I couldn't stand listening to her anymore. The problem was that I loved her too much. She was like kryptonite to me. The more I listened to her the weaker I got. I needed to move on and start my new life.

I spent another day driving and fulfilled my promise to Archie that evening. We had a terrible conversation during which I told him what had happened between Ambrose and Claire. He told me that neither he nor Betty had ever known about any of it. I was sure that even with what he, and soon Betty, knew about what she had done, they would take care of her.

* * * * * *

Danica

My progress over the first few months was very good. After a month, walking everyday became the norm for me. Over the next year, I lost weight and gained strength until I was able to jog for a few miles every morning.

When I was out in the mornings for that brief span of time, I felt good about myself. While pushing my body to its maximum efforts, I felt free. But more than likely what I was free of was the day to day grind of being thirty one years old with two kids, no life, no friends, and no prospects.

My body had improved to the point that some of the male agents checked me out when they got a chance. But none of them would ever risk their careers by making a move on me. My therapists were encouraged by my progress in some areas, but stymied in others. I had no ambition and showed no progress in any direction that might make me even semi independent. And my relationship with my kids was deteriorating at an even more rapid rate.

I tried with the kids. I really did. But I simply couldn't relate to them. The boy was bad enough. He walked around every day spouting the same truth and justice rhetoric that I heard from the Marshalls. It was hard to believe that he was only five. But the girl? Just when I finally got the hang of calling her Miley, she decided to change her name again. This time she wanted to be called Meadow.

"Hi Hannah ... I mean Miley," I said one morning. "I ran three miles non-stop yesterday."

"My name isn't Miley anymore," she said angrily. "I changed it months ago. Even Tommy can remember that and he's only five."

"I'm sorry uhm ... Blossom?" I said.

"It's MEADOW!" she said. "Go out and jog. It's just another way for you to avoid being a mother anyway." She put her headphones on and turned away, locking me out of her consciousness.

Five minutes later I was in the car being driven to the park by two Marshalls. While I was in the park running I twisted my ankle and fell heavily to the ground. Before the Marshalls could get to me, another man knelt and helped me up and over to one of the benches that dotted the park. He was older than I am, but he had very kind eyes. He was very attractive and also very sweet.

As we spoke, I got the idea that he was running away from something, just as I was. My ankle wasn't broken. It was only a sprain and a week later, I was back in the park running. During the week that I didn't go to the park, I thought about him. I was looking forward to seeing him again when I returned to the park but he wasn't there the first day. It was actually not until the third day that I saw him.

He waved and came over to speak to me when we were done running. We spoke for a while and I didn't want it to end. But all too quickly he was on his way back to his car. That meeting was repeated several times over the next few weeks, with me always wanting more.

The Marshalls ran a check on him and found out everything about him. He was forty five and married but had left his wife. He had no criminal record and was deemed to be safe. Once he had been cleared, there was a lot of interest in my interest in him. Some of the female Marshalls commented on him. They encourage me to go for it. I was out of practice and inexperienced at male/female relationships so I listened to their suggestions about what I should do.

The next time I saw him at the park, I asked him to go for coffee afterwards. And he hesitated, but for only a second before saying yes. We went to a Starbucks that was right across the street from the park. We passed it often while we each ran. Since it had an outdoor section, my Marshalls could easily watch us without moving from their usual vantage points.

I found out that his name was Ray, and the more we talked, the more I wanted to. At the end of the talk, he asked me out to dinner. I told him that I'd have to make arrangements for someone to watch my kids. What I really needed was time to make sure the Marshalls would allow it.

"You have children?" he asked. I nodded.

"That's great," he said. He gave me his phone number and I promised to call him.

When I got home, I laid down the law to the Marshalls. I told them that I really wanted to go on this date and that I would not take no for an answer. They just looked at me and shook their heads.

The Marshall in charge was a woman named Mary Shannon. Mary had been one of the main instigators in my going after Ray in the first place. "Mary, I want go out on a date like an adult woman," I said. "This might be the start of something good in my life and I..."

Mary was a woman of few words. She held up her hand for me to shut up and I got angrier. "Who's stopping you?" she asked. "Seriously Danica, no one has been looking for you in years. The drug gang that got you into the program has been out of business for the past four years at least. The only reason you are in the program is because you don't seem to be able to function on your own. So please go out on a date with this guy. We did find out why he left his wife. Apparently she cheated on him. He hasn't broken any laws that we can find. And he seems to be a nice guy."

"How did you find out about his wife?" I asked.

"He has a friend that he calls occasionally," she said.

"So in other words, you tapped his phone?" I asked. She nodded.

"Danica, you can go out and do whatever floats your boat. I'd wait a while before introducing him to the kids though. You don't want to scare him off. He's probably a bit gun shy about hooking up with another woman, so you may have to make a lot of the first moves."

She was right. I could tell that Ray liked spending time with me. But at the end of that first date, he was stymied about what to actually do next. I looked up at him and closed my eyes and tilted my head back. He took the hint and took me into his arms for a kiss. That one kiss changed my world. It was the softest, sweetest, gentlest kiss I had ever experienced. And I wanted more. I had never been kissed like that. I opened my mouth and he gently probed my mind with his tongue.

That fucking Joey was all I thought about as I closed the door after Ray left me. I had just discovered another way that Joey had ruined my life, years after he was dead. Joey was the only man I had ever kissed. And I realized now that he had been lacking in skill. Joey only gave me two types of kisses. Perfunctory pecks and full on face mashes. He gave me the pecks most of the time. They meant nothing. It was like he was kissing an acquaintance like they do in Europe. The other kisses were when he was fucking me. The differences in the way that Ray treated me and the way Joey had treated me were light years apart.

Over the next few weeks I dated Ray at least twice a week and sometimes more. He was very reticent about what we did, but I was ready for more. Over time Ray became the main outlet for most of my plans and my fantasies. The first time that we had sex, I could tell that he was wracked with guilt. It only showed how good a guy he was. Who the hell felt guilty about having sex with someone when they themselves had been cheated on?

Ray had the idea that our sex had been a spur of the moment thing, but I had carefully planned it. Over the last few weeks I had been ramping up the intensity of our kisses. I hadn't had actual sex in years and I was as horny as a billy goat. Ray did not disappoint me. I fact I had been pregnant twice but I had never had sex that good in my life. It only served to prove to me that I needed to get out in the world and experience the life that I could have had if Joey hadn't ruined my life.

The next time we saw each other I could tell that Ray wanted to talk. I didn't let our talk become a guilt fest.

"Ray, we had sex. I loved it," I said. "We're going to be doing that a lot. Get over it. Instead of wringing your hands and feeling guilty over betraying a woman who treated you like shit, you should be focusing on the things you liked about what we did."

He turned away from me. I felt like a predator. 'Fuck the movies,' I thought.

"Ray, I think I lost one of my ear rings at your place. They're really special. Could we stop by there on the way to the theater and look for it?"

"Could we stop by afterwards?" he asked. "The movie is going to start in about twenty minutes."

"Ray, you know there are always at least an hour of frigging previews and trailers. We'll make it. And I don't want to miss out on enjoying the movie by wondering about that stupid ear ring." He smiled and nodded. He really was a good guy. I felt almost guilty about what I was planning on doing to him.