Bad Weather

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It took a tornado to uncover the real storm.
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ttt59
ttt59
1,163 Followers

This story is complete fiction. I don't own a lake house and any fictitious sex, between fictitious characters takes place between consenting adults.

"Do you know the difference between a tornado and a divorce in the South? Nothing. Either way, someone is losing a trailer!" Robin Williams

I studied forensic science and have a PhD in molecular biology. Early in my career I did lab work for the FBI and then spent a couple years as a pathologist for a large hospital. However, I grew tired working for, "the man" so upon turning forty, I opened my own shop specializing in DNA analysis.

RHT Labs (Robert Henry Thomas, my full name) provides court admissible DNA testing for government agencies, businesses, attorneys, and private citizens. My love for science came from my mom and my head for business from pops. I'm not insanely wealthy, but I've opened three labs in a large midwestern city and am doing well.

My wife Melissa, (Liz for short) was my college sweetheart. We met the middle of our sophomore year and within a few weeks were exclusive. She studied biology and secondary education. We married six months after graduation during the break at the end of my first semester of grad school. She taught at the local high school. We were madly in love, dining on more than our fair share of Ramen Noodles, and off to a great start.

Four years into our marriage Tracie Lynn came along. Two years later, she was joined by RHT2 or Hank as we called him. Liz enjoyed being a mom but also kept her hand in teaching as a sub for our school district. Eventually, she went back to the classroom full-time when Tracie was in third grade and Hank was in first.

The kids were 12 and 10 when I went private. It was tough for the first year or so. Long hours and going through staff until I found the right combination of people who enjoyed hard work, along with good pay / benefits. They learned quickly they worked for an owner who was tougher on himself than anyone else.

Now at 47, marriage, kids, work and our lake cottage take up most of my world. We bought our place at the lake about ten years ago. It was pretty run down, so we got it for a bargain and didn't mind working together fixing it up. When school let out for the summer Liz and the kids spent 85% of their time there. I cut my work week down to four days June, July and August, so I can enjoy long weekends with our loving crew.

Over the years our marriage has had its ups and downs. Mostly ups but, like any other couple we fight from time to time. We can both be stubborn, but we rarely stay angry at each other more than a couple of hours. Neither of us like being out of sorts with the other, so we're quick to admit where we've been wrong and make amends. No marriage is perfect, but I wouldn't trade mine for the world. Until recently...

Tracie was in her second year at college which meant Hank would also be headed off to school in the fall. All of us were looking forward to the summer lake house because it was clear that our time with just the four of us would not last much longer. Tracie had a boyfriend and while neither Liz nor I thought he was the one, we knew it probably wouldn't be more than a few years before she'd bring that special one home for us to meet. We would welcome an expanding family when it happened, but we were also relishing the time we still had with our small, tightknit crew.

It was late spring, and Liz had spent the last two weekends at the lake getting the house ready to open. This had been her ritual for as long as we'd owned the place. She'd have time to herself which meant attention getting the cottage just as she liked it while still having a couple evenings to sit, read, and sip some wine without interruption from her husband or kids. The three of us at home came up with our own traditions which included an early season baseball game in St. Louis or Chicago.

Each of the last Sunday evenings when Liz returned from what she called, "prep and scrub" weekends she seemed a bit off. Nothing I could put my finger on, but my wife was defiantly out of sorts. On the second Sunday when she returned in the same frame of mind, I asked her if she was OK. She snapped at me, something she rarely does and left the room in a huff. "WTF?" I thought and gave her a wide berth for the next couple of hours.

Before we climbed into bed for the night she apologized for her behavior. "I'm sorry Henry, I shouldn't have been harsh with you earlier, please forgive my rude behavior."

"Of course, Liz," I responded, "I'm sorry if I did something to irritate you, I was just concerned you didn't quite seem yourself."

"I'm good Henry" she replied without looking at me, "I guess I'm just a little worn out from all the work at the lake."

"OK sweetness, how about a back scratch?"

"That would be perfect," she purred. Liz LOVES to have her back scratched.

After a few minutes of very platonic grazing her back, my hands began to wander. We're still very physically intimate and active. Sometimes the kids will come down to breakfast and catch us grinning from ear to ear holding hands. Most often it is Tracie that tells us "TMI" or "Please get a room and spare us!" Hank just turns a bit red and giggles.

Usually, when she comes home from being at the lake, she's in the mood. Tonight, when I began to initiate, she didn't even roll over, she just sighed deeply and said, "Thanks for the scratch, babe, but not tonight OK?" I wasn't shocked, I'd been turned down on any number of times, just like any normal husband. But, with our recent schedule, it had been over a week and that did surprise me. Sadly, it would be only too soon I'd learn what was up.

If you live in the Midwest, you live with threat of tornados. Much like earthquakes in California, or hurricanes on the East coast, folks in our part of the country are well aware of twisters and what they can do. In the spring it's never a question of if, it is always a question of when and where. This year it was our turn.

A class three tornado has winds up to 165 mph, class fives can hit velocities of over 200 mph.

It was Monday night after Liz returned from her second clean up trip that a class three hit a half mile from our place. I immediately called our next-door lake neighbors Eric and Bev Parson. Their place was about 100 yards down from us. They were retired and lived at the lake year-round. Eric answered on the second ring.

"Henry, it was a hell of a storm that just came through here."

"You and Bev OK Eric? Anything I can do for you?"

"We're good Henry, thanks for asking. No real damage to anything right around us. I took a quick look at your place and there are a couple of broken windows and lots of branches and shit blown all around the property, but nothing significant. The rain has passed by, so I'll board up your windows in the morning. No need for you to rush down here tonight."

"Thanks Eric, I'm relieved ya'll are OK. I'll be down first thing in the morning. I'll bring a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts for you as a token of my appreciation!"

"Save your money Henry. Bev will just find the damn things and make me throw them out. She can sniff out food she deems unhealthy a mile away. Drives me crazy sometimes!"

"Well maybe I'll just bring a couple and keep em over at my place. I can call when I arrive with a need for a helping hand."

"Well, that might just work Henry, good night, see you in the morning."

I let the office know I wouldn't be in for a couple days. Truth was, they probably got more done without me there. My assistant Shelby told me she wasn't sure how they'd get by without me, but they'd try. Liz offered to take off and help me, but once I explained we'd been spared most of the serious damage, she decided to stay home and work. We were also aware leaving an 18-year-old high school senior alone for a couple of days would be an accident looking for a place to happen.

I headed to the lake and spent the next couple of days picking up and arranging for three new windows to be installed. Eric came over and helped me with a few things and I did the same for him. If there was any consumption of Krispy Kreme's, my lips are sealed.

It was Wednesday afternoon, and all the major pick up / clean-up was complete. Liz had put the trash can out by the mailbox before leaving on Sunday since pick up at the lake was Tuesday. Due to the storm all its contents were still strewn around the yard. The trash bin was blown down the street. Once I rolled it back, I began my final task of refilling it with what had blown all over the lawn.

I was almost done when I spied what looked like a Ziplock bag on the far side of our yard. Upon closer inspection it was indeed a clear plastic bag. Nothing odd about that, but its contents seemed to be discarded clothing. I held it up and saw what appeared to be one of Liz's bathing suits, a blouse, and a pair of panties. When I opened it, my nostrils were assaulted with a combination of odors. Human sweat, and other bodily secretions had been closed tightly for at least three days. Remember, I'm in the DNA business. I recognized the scent was familiar to the aroma in our labs. I held the blouse up. Four of the six buttons were missing. Both the bathing suit and panties looked to have dried semen on them. I could feel my lunch pushing its way back up my throat as I fought to keep it down. I lost.

How could this be? Liz and I had not been together at the lake since Thanksgiving weekend and as I recalled it was a big family weekend, so sex wasn't on the menu. I knew enough to know the contents hadn't been in the bag more than a few days. Almost twenty-five years of marriage built on love and commitment was suddenly shaken at its foundation.

I carried my newfound items to our deck, sat down and forced myself to think. Clearly, Lis would have known I'd not be down at the lake before Tuesday morning when the trash collection came by. There was no need to hide anything since it would be gone long before my first visit of the spring.

But who? Our house was far enough away from Parson's that you could come and go without being detected. I also recalled how I felt Liz was off when she returned from both weekends. Was that because she was coming home after being with... him?

How long had she been unfaithful? Was it someone who lived here, or did they just meet here? Someone with whom she worked? A neighbor? Was he clean? Could I have STD's? My head was spinning, and I was having trouble breathing. I fought for composure, but it was tough. I was in no shape to go home.

After an hour I had an immediate solution. I called Liz to tell her there was more to do here and I'd already had a few beers. It would be better if I stayed put for the night and headed back to town early in the morning. The lake house was only an hour away so I could be up at six and be in the office by my normal 8 AM.

"I'm glad there isn't too much damage," Liz said when I'd informed her of my plan. "I just wish you were coming home tonight. I wanted to make up for my lack of enthusiasm on Sunday."

"Sorry Liz, but I'll see you at some point tomorrow."

"Bye sweetie, I love you."

"Good night, Liz." I couldn't bring myself to tell her I loved her. I had a couple or five bourbons and eventually drifted off to an uneasy sleep until 5 AM.

On my way home I made some decisions as well as some phone calls. I'd do the DNA lab work myself, so I needed to get straight to the lab and get it started before anyone else arrived. Secondly, I called my lawyer, Tom Kinkade and filled him in. Finally, I called a friend I'd worked with back in my FBI days who had also gone into the private sector and told him what I needed.

By the end of the day, I had two of three things done. Tom and I had met for a couple of hours over lunch. Bad news, no matter what, she'd get 50% of everything in a divorce. Even with the kids older and perhaps choosing to live with me, she'd do just fine financially.

"How warped is our system" I thought. "Betray your vows to the people you profess to love and get rewarded financially."

Secondly, my friend was able to pull some strings and have state of the art, impossible to detect surveillance equipment installed at the lake house. Not that it would help much in a divorce, but I wanted evidence of her infidelity. No way I was going to let her play the victim with our friends and family. I'd go full-bore social media if necessary. Liz would probably land on her feet financially, but she'd not leave this marriage with her reputation intact.

My third project was the DNA identification process. Obviously, Liz's results were easy to determine. But finding an unknown person took more time. No sooner than the end of work tomorrow if I was lucky.

I arrived home, hugged the kids and gave Liz a brief peck on the cheek. Everyone was interested in my last 24 hours. I'd taken pictures with my phone, so everyone gathered around and looked over my shoulder as I narrated the story. Even with her duplicity, it was clear Liz was concerned about our second home. She had just as many amazing memories as the rest of us and we'd been together a long time. I kept talking on even keel, trying to keep my composure. She was so close looking at my phone that her scent filled my nostrils. Normally, that would begin to arouse me sooner or later. Tonight, her aroma just made me sad.

I had intentionally taken a picture of the trash scattered over the yard. Before returning I edited the picture and made the Ziplock bag just a bit bigger in the frame. Even amid my pain I decided a little mind gamesmanship was in order. "I mean, look at all that trash. You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I had to pick up and re-bag" I narrated, pausing a second or two longer on this picture. I felt Liz go a bit stiff for the briefest instant.

Later that night as we climbed into bed Liz reached for me. I think she felt me stiffen when she draped her arm across me and move in by my side.

"Are you OK Henry? What's wrong honey?"

Normally, I'd turn, and we'd talk almost nose to nose. Tonight, I just stayed facing away from her.

"Just tired," I lied. "All the work at the lake house, then a couple of drinks too many last night, an early morning and a long day."

"Thank you for taking care of all that Henry. I know it was a lot. I probably should have gone with you and helped."

"It's OK Liz, but I do think you ought to go down next week after you finish school on Monday and make sure the windows were put in correctly and everything is up to your standards. I think we'd all be relieved to know you are there, looking things over with our family's best interest in mind."

"Of course, Henry, I was thinking that as well. I'll head down after school. Our last day is a half day so I might be able to be back by Tuesday night."

"No rush Liz, just want to make sure everything is how you like it. You're most important."

If she caught the several inuendo's I tossed out she didn't let on.

Her hand began reaching lower on my torso. "How about I make you feel all better, my loving husband?"

Now I must pause here for a moment and say with relative certainty, I've never turned down sex with Liz in my life... ever. She was always the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Her looks, her mind, her personality, were all glorious and if I was breathing, I'd be ready to go sexually.

Tonight, I was fighting to keep the tears from coming. "I'm sorry Liz, I'm absolutely exhausted."

She stopped her caressing, and I could hear a small gasp escape her lips. "Oh, well, of course Henry, you need a good night's sleep. I love you."

"You too" I replied omitting 'love' and hoping it would go unnoticed.

As I lay in the dark, I knew my marriage was most likely over. I couldn't just turn off my love for Liz, but I'd never trust her again. She'd obviously found something missing in our relationship and filled it with another man. She'd lied to me and betrayed our family. She'd never leave the house again when I wouldn't wonder where she was going or who she was meeting. The idea of her at the lake house four days a week without me was a complete nonstarter. Whoever he was, he had been in our lake house with my wife. Probably in our marriage bed where they fucked. No, I couldn't stand for that disrespect.

At 4:30 AM I gave up tossing and turning. Liz was sleeping deeply when I showered, dressed, and left for the office. Unusual for a Saturday, but not unheard of. She called me around 7 AM. I let it go to voicemail. Something, I rarely did. She texted, "Hope you slept better and are on the mend. I love you!!!!!" I didn't respond for an hour. "Sorry, been working on an important last minute order. I guess I'll see you this evening. Still tired." I included a heart shape Emoji. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.

Even though it was Saturday, I called Tom at nine and asked him to begin drawing up divorce papers. Our state allowed for adultery to be a reason for divorce even though it wouldn't matter one bit in court. Still, I wasn't going to go with "irreconcilable differences" horse shit. I told him to have everything ready by next week.

By 3 PM I had the name Kenneth Glen Lester. The name seemed familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place it. The information that came back from a google search did the trick. "Les" had been the clubhouse manager at the lake for the last three years. He was in his early 30's and had done a couple years in prison for breaking and entering when he was twenty. I learned about him from Eric, who said he was a good kid who did some stupid stuff when young but was making the most of his second chance opportunity.

From my limited interactions it seemed Les was always polite when we went to the club for dinner. He ran a good operation and had a friendly spirit with everyone. If anything was wrong Les would make it right. He worked hard and smart from what I could see. Apparently, he'd made quite an impression on my wife since he'd turned her into his slut. I guess she just couldn't resist fucking a guy who was twelve years younger. Must have done wonders for her ego.

I wasn't sure how I was going to navigate the next two days until Liz went down to the lake. My sadness began to turn to anger, and I was afraid I'd blow up at her. The good news was Hank's high school baseball team had a couple of games that weekend so I could attend those in the late afternoon. Liz would probably be at one of them if not both. Being together publicly would be a hell of a lot easier than being together alone at the house.

I could work an hour or two extra in the yard each day without too much suspicion. If Liz asked, I could always say I was doing more now so it wouldn't be piled up when I started going to the lake house in a couple weeks. Bedtime would be another issue but there was no way I was going to have sex with my cheating skank wife. I had no idea what Lester boy may have passed on to her, and no way I wanted sloppy seconds no matter how much time had passed.

It was a tough two days. Liz kept trying to "make it up to me" and my excuses seemed lame even to me. By Sunday night, her frustration had turned to anger. "I hope you get your head out of your ass by the time I get back from the lake house," she hissed at me before pulling all the covers over to her side of the bed. "GOOD NIGHT!"

Monday, I was up and out early without a goodbye. Hank texted me on his way to school that morning.

"Dad, I could hear mom crying earlier this morning. Is she OK?"

"A bit of a challenge right now Hank, but I'm sure she'll be fine."

"OK, love you dad"

"Love you son."

I put my phone down on my desk and shed a couple of tears too. How the fuck did life get this messed up so quickly?

Later, after lunch Liz sent a text.

"Thanks for the warm and loving send off today. You're such a prick right now"

ttt59
ttt59
1,163 Followers
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