Birth Day Club Ch. 03

"I'll leave when I'm ready to leave." I slipped my wedding ring off and handed it to Karen. "Now I'm leaving."

Karen was wailing like a banshee. "All I was doing was dancing."

I threw the diaper bag at her feet and turned to walk away. But I paused long enough to say, "A wife who is honoring her marriage vow would never come to a place like this. No, this is a bar where adulterers come to destroy marriages."

A number of men and women standing nearby started to back away. I guess I hit a little too c lose to home.

"I told him to stop."

"No, you only told him to stop because people could see you letting him feel up your ass."

Karen turned white. Either she was really stupid or she didn't realize I had heard the entire exchange.

"You didn't haul off and slap his face for assaulting you like a faithful married woman would do. No, you wanted your boyfriend to take you somewhere more private."

"No! No! It wasn't like that...he's not..."

"Stop lying. I heard every word you said. I also have a video from a half hour ago."

Karen gasped. "Please..." she moaned, "Let me explain. My fat ass split the seam on my pants. This wrap dress was the only thing Colleen had that would fit me. Wait, I'll prove I wasn't cheating on you."

Karen unhooked the belt and the dress fell open. She shrugged her shoulders and it fell in a puddle around her ankles. The band stopped playing; the room got as quiet as a tomb.

"Look, I'm wearing granny panties with control top pantyhose over them. And my legs aren't even shaved...and I believe you call this bra the boner buster," she stammered as she made that goofy grin she knew I loved. "I'm fat...I've got stretch marks. Who would want me?"

It's true, Karen looked more like a refugee dressed from discards than a woman on the prowl. But having two babies in eleven months will do that. Her breasts were swollen and wet spots were visible on both bra cups but she definitely wasn't fat. I stared down an asshole who tried to take a picture with his phone.

"Where's her bottle?"

"I didn't bring any."

"I can't believe you took two babies out this late without anything for them to eat. Don't worry, mommy is here for you. "

"You are not turning this shit on me. If you weren't out whoring with a psychopath that would punch a baby you wouldn't need bottles.

The manager was pretty upset and demanded we leave immediately. "I've called the police."

"Good, I want that son-of-a-bitch arrested for assaulting my baby daughter."

At some point Colleen had joined us. Karen was still standing in her underwear when she asked her, "Would you please change my son's diapers."

Liz was still screaming so Karen said, "I have to feed our daughter." She looked at me and pleaded, "Please, don't go." She picked up her dress and set off for the ladies lounge.

I stopped her, "If you want to have any hope of coming out of this still married you will tell the police he sexually assaulted you."

More than one person must have called 9-1-1 because the cops came out in force. Two men in bullet proof vests and helmets practically tore the privacy door off its hinges.

A minute later a couple of paramedics rolled a gurney into the club. The asshole hadn't moved since his brain got rattled. I later found out he had a traumatic brain injury.

Fortunately someone had sent the police a video of the asshole taking a swing at me. It began with the asshole, who turned to be a well known lothario, groping Karen's ass. The music was too loud to hear what she said..

From the angle it was shot it looks like he punched my daughter. The video also included my punch but fortunately ended before I stomped on his balls. I was assured he would be arrested for assault and battery, for openers, when he woke up. The officer said the States Attorney was going to drool when he saws the video.

When the police were finished I told Karen it was best if she went to her mother's house for a few days. "I'll call and let you know when you can come home. The babies are coming with me." She began sobbing but didn't argue. When she told Connie what happened her own mother called her a whore and threw her out. She finally ended up on the couch in the basement at her sister's house.

Epilogue:

On Monday I had tests done on both kids to prove I was their father. I sent Karen a text saying she couldn't come home until I got the results.

My next stop was a lawyer's office. He advertised a ton on late night TV and offered a free consultation. We watched the videos before he gave his opinion. An hour later I was at a different lawyer, followed by a third then a fourth. Each watched the videos then told me the best I could hope for would be shared custody, and that was not a sure thing. And before we got that far there would be a minimum of twenty hours of court mandated counseling; the children would be appointed, at my expense, a guardian ad litum to protect their interests. The whole damn deck is stacked against a father. Each of the four asked for a minimum of $1,000 as a retainer. I said I would get back to them.

Two weeks later I received the answer I was dying for; I was their dad. As promised, I called Karen and said if she was willing to confess everything she could come home. We had one hell of a discussion. She told me a few things that hurt to hear but swore they never had intercourse. She was hard to understand through the sobbing but admitted to giving Robertson a couple of blow jobs.

"A couple blow jobs while you were pregnant. Did you swallow?"

Karen looked at the floor. I could barely hear her say, "Yes,"

"What if you caught a disease that harmed, or even killed, our daughter?"

She wailed like a banshee escaping from a nightmare. Karen spent the next half hour apologizing and begging my forgiveness. Eventually her mouth ran out of words and she collapsed in a heap at my feet. The look on her face reminded me of my mother when a police officer told her dad was murdered in a robbery gone bad; absolute, total surrender to the pain of loss.

The silence was only interrupted by Karen fighting to breathe. I handed her my handkerchief and she blew her nose.

She swore an oath that she learned her lesson and would spend the rest of her life making it up to me. I told her if she lied about anything it was all over. "No, that's everything."

I offered her my hand and said "welcome home."

Did I believe her? Probably not. But it doesn't really matter. I had leveled the playing field with a bulldozer..

You see on Tuesday after the fight Robertson's wife Jennifer, came by the house to apologize and ask how my daughter was. "I'm sorry to bother you Mr. Morrow but your phone number is not published. I Googled your name and found your address. "

I invited her in. We stared at each other for a long time before she spoke. "I'm ashamed to say this wasn't the first time my husband cheated on me but it will be the last; I'm divorcing him. I hope that bastard spends the rest of his life in a wheelchair."

We were interrupted by the babies waking up from their naps. She offered to change their diapers, an offer I never refused. When they were all cleaned up and fed Jennifer fawned over Liz and Brandon. Time slipped by and it was getting dark outside. I invited her to stay for dinner, "Are you okay with pizza?"

Within minutes after tucking the babies in for the night we were making passionate love. I felt guilty for as long as it took me to remember why I had a beautiful twenty five year old stranger in my bed instead of my wife.

Jennifer spent the night. Wow! She was incredible.

In the morning she said she didn't want to go home to an empty house. "Would you mind if I stayed the rest of the week?" Being a gentleman I of course said yes.

I called work and explained about the fight. My boss is an OK guy and let me take vacation days for the rest of the week. I wanted Jennifer to stay longer but she said, "I can't. I'm moving back east to live with my parents. I have a movers coming on Saturday." We put our time to good use for a fitting farewell.

That, and what the lawyers said, made it a lot easier to give my marriage a second chance.

The next time we saw the asshole was at court. He was drooling as a nurse wheeled him into the courtroom.

The States Attorney said they were dropping the charges because "no jury is going to convict a guy who has an intracerebral hemorrhage which caused significant, permanent damage to his brain." In layman's terms, that asshole wouldn't be bothering anyone ever again.

I asked the judge if I could tell Robertson I forgave him for punching my daughter. With his permission secured I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "April fool, asshole. I'm fucking your wife." When I looked into his eyes and saw pure hate I knew there must be a couple of neurons in his brain still getting a spark. Damn, that revenge was sweet.

And oh, before I forget, the video spread through the club like wildfire. Within an hour it went viral. It's a little hard to find these days as they keep taking it down because of child abuse. But if you look hard enough it's still out there.