Affair of Terror

"I hadn't even thought of that, but now that you mention it..." he left his words hang with a slight chuckle. "No, this has nothing to do with the bombing. if I gave you a guy's name and cell phone number, would you be able to give me his home address?"

"Sorry, Al, we're not allowed to do things like that. What's it all about?"

Al wasn't going to tell him the whole story, but maybe a little bit of it. "The guy came on to my wife in a restaurant. When she told him to fuck-off, he slapped her."

"Bring her down here. I'll have her fill out a complaint and we can pick this guy up."

"She doesn't want to do that, Sergeant. She just wants to let it go."

"Then my advice would be to let it go, Al. If you go to his house and beat the shit out of him, you'll be the one sitting behind bars. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I don't really want to beat the guy up, I just want to shame him by confronting him in front of his wife. I want to let her know he hit Cathy and tell him if it happens again, we WILL prefer charges."

If there was one thing the good sergeant couldn't stand, it was some asshole hitting a woman. "That's all you want to do?" he asked.

"That's it sergeant. I just want his wife to know what he did."

Against his better judgment, he sighed and asked Al for the information. A few minutes later he returned to the phone. "Okay, you didn't get this from me," he said. In addition to Belshaw's home address, Jergins gave him the make, model, and license number of the asshole's car. Al thanked him profusely and offered to take a portrait of him and his family at no charge.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, sergeant, really. My assistant's name is Michelle. Call her at the studio during working hours and she'll get it scheduled for you."

After hanging up, Al's pulse rose along with his blood pressure. He had the address, now he just had to keep from killing the SOB. He thought of waiting a while to cool off again, but in reality, he'd probably get angrier with each passing day. He had the thumb drive in his pocket, why wait?

Again, he was preoccupied with thoughts of mayhem as he walked into the back office.

"Al, are you going to need any special props for the jewelry shoot?"

"Huh?"

"Al, are you sure you're all right? You've been out of it all day. We have a shoot for Kennison's, today at two o'clock, remember? They're bringing four or five new necklaces and bracelets over."

"Ah," he had to think. Kennison's was a steady customer but they were always too cheap to hire models so he had to use the same kind of display props that jewelry stores used in their windows. "No, I think we have everything we need, Michelle, just do me a favor and make sure the display busts are clean." He had another thought as well. "You know, why don't you dress up one of the full-sized mannequins, as well."

"Will do," she said, heading for the prop room.

Once Al was actively involved in the shoot, he was all business again. His concentration was focused on his work. The job took several hours and lasted right through the end of the day. It was almost seven by the time his happy clients left the studio.

Michelle was helping him clean up. She still felt guilty about her boyfriend, and wanted to make sure her boss knew how dedicated she was. "Are you going to upload all that stuff tonight, Al? I'll stick around and keep you company if you want."

"No, Michelle, you can take off. I've got an errand to run, so I'm going to let it go until tomorrow."

He found the address with no problem. It was a fairly modest home on the outskirts of the city. There were two cars in the drive, one of which was the make and model given to him by the sergeant. He checked in his pocket to make sure he still had the thumb drive before walking up the front steps and ringing the bell.

He really did plan on just confronting his nemesis in front of his family, but Belshaw made the mistake of answering the door himself. As soon as Al recognized the bastard he forced his way in, knocking Tony off balance. Mrs. Belshaw appeared from around the corner just as Al's right fist made contact with her husband's jaw. It caught him just right. The prick was out cold before his head hit the carpet.

"TONY!" She ran to his side in a panic and raised his head, rocking him back and forth. Just then a young man rushed in. He appeared to be about twelve. He looked down at his dad cradled in his mother's arms, then up at Al.

"Ma'am, your husband forced himself on my wife in a restaurant men's room. Afterward, he slapped her when she wouldn't comply with his demented demands, then he tried to blackmail her into having sex with him and some buddy of his. If you don't believe me, play this," he said, throwing the thumb drive down next to her. "It's a recording of your husband threatening my wife."

The woman stopped rocking and looked down at the small storage device like it was a snake. "That... that can't be," she argued.

The kid spoke up for the first time. "My dad would never do that," he yelled.

"The proof is lying right there," Al countered, pointing at the thumb drive. "All you have to do is plug it into your computer and listen to it."

"I'm calling the cops," the kid announced.

"Go ahead," Al replied, "but I have witnesses to the assault as well as that soundtrack." He was bluffing but did so convincingly. "My wife will prefer charges and that piece of scum will be in a cell right next to mine... and for a lot longer." He looked back at the wife. "I mean it. My wife doesn't want to go through a trial, but she will if she has to. When he wakes up, you tell him if he bothers either me or my wife ever again, I'll make sure he spends the next twenty years behind bars." With those parting words, Al turned and left.

On the drive home, he started to shake. He took a couple of deep breaths but it didn't help. He pulled into a parking lot, turned into an empty space, and cut the engine. He leaned back and closed his eyes trying to regain control of his body.

Now that it was over he was starting to have regrets. He'd had plenty of fights when he was growing up, but they were always in self-defense. Never had he ever attacked anyone like that before. He was also having second thoughts about doing it in front of the family, especially his kid. His wife should know what kind of man she married, but the kid didn't ask to be his son.

He looked around to see where he was. Hugo's, he was sitting in the parking lot of a local bar. Al drank socially but rarely drank alone... still, maybe a beer was just what he needed to settle his nerves.

He really wasn't in the mood for company so he picked the most secluded bar stool he saw and ordered whatever light beer they had on tap. He still had Belshaw's kid on his mind and had just taken his second sip of Miller Lite when he felt his phone buzz. Checking his texts, he saw three messages from Cathy. He hadn't even felt the first two. He had his mind of other things. He checked the last one.

R Y okay? Y haven't responded to my last two texts. I'm getting worried.

He replied. I'm fine. Be home in an hour.

That gave him about thirty minutes to contemplate whether he did the right thing or not. He looked so forlorn he caught the eye of the bartender who wandered over. "You look like somebody just shot your dog."

Al looked up with a snicker. "No, nothing like that. I just decked a guy right in front of his kid."

"I see, and now you're feeling guilty."

"Big-time," admitted Al.

"Did the guy deserve the beat-down?"

"Oh yeah, knowing the circumstances, I don't think anyone would dispute that. I'm just not sure I should have done it in front of his son."

"You know, when I was young, I thought my dad walked on water... until I came home from school one day and heard what sounded like muffled screams coming from my parent's bedroom. I rushed in and saw my dad holding a pillow over my mother's face and punching her through the pillow.

"Do I wish my dad would have been the guy I thought he was? You bet. Do I wish I had gone through life believing he was something he wasn't? No way.

"My mother endured the abuse because of me. Once I knew the truth, I was the one who pushed her to leave him. Two years later she married a man who truly was someone I could look up to.

"Sometimes the truth hurts, but that doesn't mean you should remain ignorant of it. You know what they say, 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.' It was sure true in my case. Maybe not now, but in the long run, I think that kid will someday realize that you did him favor."

Just then, someone from the other end of the bar called for another beer, so the wise bartender left Al to his thoughts. He wasn't sure if the bartender's story was even true, but it sure made him feel better. He took a couple more sips of his Miller, laid a twenty on the counter and headed for the door. "Thanks a lot," he called out with a wave as he left.

Cathy was sitting in the living room watching TV when he walked in. "Where have you been," she pleaded. "I called the studio at seven and you were gone already. Please, tell me you didn't go after Tony."

"Why are you so concerned for Tony? I thought you didn't like him anymore."

"I'm not concerned for him, I'm concerned for you."

"Well, you don't have to be concerned for me either. I can take care of myself."

She sighed with the lack of forthcoming by her husband. "Have you eaten?"

"No."

"We had stuffed pork chops. I'll warm a plate for you," she told him.

She noticed his swollen hand when he sat down to eat. "I knew it," she said. Cathy gently took his hand in hers after he looked at her quizzically. "Should I expect the cops at our door in the next few minutes?"

"I'm not sure," he replied.

Over the next couple of days, they lived more like brother and sister than husband and wife. The possibility of him being arrested hung over their heads like the Sword of Damocles, but they hadn't heard a word until Friday night when Cathy's cellphone rang. Al was sitting right there when she looked at the display.

"I don't recognize the number. I'll let it go to voicemail."

"No, you'd better answer it. It might have something to do with the other night. Put it on speaker. I want to know if it's your asshole lover calling from a different phone."

"Hello," she answered apprehensively.

"Is this Cathy Hodges?" a female voice asked.

"Yes," she cautiously admitted.

"Good, it took me a couple of days to track you down. This is Tony's wife."

Cathy almost cried. Never, did she think she'd have to talk to his wife. She had no idea what to say. How do you apologize for sleeping with someone's spouse, but then the woman wasn't looking for an apology, she wanted to know the truth.

"I want to hear your side of the story. According to my husband, you came on to him. He'd had too many drinks with lunch and succumbed to your advances. Unfortunately, none of that coincides with the tape your husband gave me. He said Tony forced himself on you and assaulted you. That doesn't sound like the man I married, but then neither does that awful tape, so I want to hear the whole story before I kick his worthless ass out of the house."

Cathy held nothing back. She told Mrs. Belshaw how her husband first pinned her against the wall then pulled her into the men's room. She explained how Tony accosted her in the parking lot then slapped her in the restaurant. By the time she described the faked picture and who was in it, Tony's wife had no doubt that she was telling the truth.

"That guy in the picture, does he have an apartment on Southport?"

"Yeah, Tony said his name was Brian. Your husband has a key to the apartment on his key ring." Cathy told her.

"That's good," she replied, "because after I have the locks changed, that's probably where he'll be living for a while. If you want him, honey, you can have him," was the last thing she said before slamming down the receiver.

Cathy had tears in her eyes from embarrassment and shame. Al sat, listening to the whole conversation. "Well, it doesn't look like my visit was in vain, does it. She didn't mention calling the cops, either."

"You're lucky," Cathy responded.

"Funny, I don't feel lucky, not at all."

"I didn't mean that. You know what I meant."

"If he ever tries to contact you again, you let me know." Cathy nodded her head in agreement. "Over the next couple of days, I want you to make a list of what you want from the divorce. We'll go over it on Sunday. If it's reasonable, I'll sit down with a lawyer next week and get the papers drawn up. You should probably get your own lawyer to protect your interests."

"Al, I know I screwed up big time, but don't you love me at all anymore?"

"Cathy, I have loved you from the moment we met. You were perfect in every way. You were beautiful, personable, had a great sense of humor, and above all, you were honest to a fault. Everyone, my parents, my friends, everybody I introduced you to in those early days adored you. You made me the happiest man in the world when you said yes.

"I understand the first time with him wasn't your fault. If it had stopped there, I would never have held it against you, but it didn't stop there. You willingly went back time and time again for more. You knew what you were doing. You knew it was wrong, but you continued.

"I'm sorry, I know you deeply regret what you did, but actions have consequences, Cathy. I don't mean in the form of punishment. I think you'll be doing that to yourself for a long time to come, but I'm simply not the same person I was. The person who loved and trusted you is gone. It's not that I don't still love you, based on all the happy years and good times we had together, I will probably always love you to some extent, but I will always carry the knowledge that you have hurt me more than any other person in my life and I will forever carry that scar in my heart. We would never have the happy marriage we once had. It's best if we part company and go our separate ways. We're both still young enough to make a fresh start with someone else.

A little later that night, Mr. and Mrs. Hodges retired to their respective rooms and cried themselves to sleep.

That Sunday, they sat at the kitchen table to go over Cathy's list. They had no children, and even though she didn't make what he did, she had a good job; as a result, she asked for nothing from his business, nor any financial support. They agreed to sell the house and split the proceeds in half, which would net them between thirty and thirty-five grand apiece. He kept his SUV, she kept her Ford hybrid. Other than that, all she wanted were some things that reminded her of the good times they'd spent together, and her personal items. The one article that she considered non-negotiable was their wedding album. It was testimony to the happiest day of her life. She would cherish it until her dying day.

Cathy didn't bother getting a lawyer. She trusted Al. The attorney who handled everything almost felt guilty for taking his fee. As divorces go, it was the smoothest, most uncontentious he'd ever handled.

When it was all over, both Al and Cathy threw themselves into their work. During the day, it kept them from the loneliness that haunted their nights, and the emptiness of a missing spouse.

While Al didn't date much for well over a year, Cathy threw herself into the dating pool after six months. She felt a strong need to find a good man and atone for her sins by treating him like a king. Unfortunately, she learned, first-hand, of the pain she caused Al when she caught her second husband cheating on her. It broke her spirit when she filed for divorce: it was her second strike.

A few months later, Cathy was in a novelty shop and happened to find a hand-embroidered wall hanging that read, "Those who don't learn from their mistakes are destined to repeat them." She immediately bought it and hung it on her bedroom wall as a constant reminder.

It had been four years since closing the book on Cathy's second failed marriage. She had almost given up on ever finding a man who she could love again, then she met Blaine. He wasn't as handsome as Al, but he was a truly nice man, and she felt a little spark between them from the very start.

When their relationship was becoming serious, she wanted no secrets between them. She showed him the embroidered wall hanging and told him the story of how she lost her first husband. When she finished, he had but one question, "Did you learn from your mistakes?"

She assured him sincerely and without question that she had. Eight months later, they were happily married.

Al struck gold with his second wife. Ashley was everything he thought Cathy was, and more; above all, she was absolutely crazy about him and Al knew without a doubt she'd never cheat. A year and a half into their marriage, they had a son, Adam. A little less than two years later, the stork brought Briteny, Adam's little sister. It was the family Al always wanted. A family that would be nourished with love and respect for one another. He never once doubted Ashley's love because she reminded him of it on a daily basis.

*****

"Are you ready, Dad?"

Al wiped a tear from his eye. "I guess I'm as ready as any father who's about to hand his little girl over to another man, honey."

"I'm far from a little girl anymore, Dad," chuckled the beautiful bride.

"In my eyes, you will always be my little girl, hon."

"Here we go," she said as "The Wedding March," began to play.

An assembly of friends and family watched as the proud pa, pa escorted his daughter down the aisle. As they neared the altar, he glanced at the rest of his family in the front pew and wondered what he ever did in life that allowed him to be so blessed.

With her eyes glued to her husband and daughter, Ashley beamed with pride. Later that year, she and Al would celebrate twenty-five years of a ridiculously happy marriage. Next to his mother sat Adam, his wife, Coral, and their newborn son, Cary. Yes, Al and Ashley were already grandparents.

"Who gives this woman to this man?"

Al smiled with honor, "I do."

And life goes on.

The End.