Daydream Believer: Consequences

Whew! What a time with this one. The characters seemed to never shut up! Based upon reader input this is final installment of the Daydream Believer line. Or is it? What do you, the readers think? Should I end it as is or go out with a bang? Yep, here is where you can comment. All constructive comments are welcome. If you need anything more feel free write me on the feedback line.

Dedicated to: HDK, Patricia51, The Troubadour, and all the folks who have given me positive feedback on my meager efforts. Thanks.

To LadyC: Editor with the patience of a Job. Kudos and always many, many thanks.

Lastly, to Liz, who always thought I could write. I hope you can see this and are proud.

Daydream Believer – Consequences By Chagrined

My name is Eldon MacDonald. Everyone just calls me 'Mac'. When last time I relayed how I came home to find my loving wife of 15 years locking loins with my best friend, Steve. I learned how this had been transpiring for some years with me languishing in ignorance. Compounding the problem was the revelation that my youngest son wasn't mine, biologically, but Steve's. Without thought, I reacted in what seemed to be the most appropriate manner, I applied the "board of education" to my best friends "seat of higher learning". After the resulting arrest and incarceration, I decided to do some self examination and investigation. Steve's ex wife informed me that the affair had been going strong for several years. She also let me in on Steve's medical problems. Lastly, she told me that my wife, Jeanne, still loved me and that there was still a marriage if I wanted it. After much thought, I decided that the best thing to do was to call Steve, Jeanne and I together. It is here I rejoin the story.

The next few days were busy paying on dues. The kids were due back from Kelli and Paul's, Jeanne was due to come out of the hospital, I was due back at work. There was a lot to be done. But first I had some sober thinking to do. I spent at least two hours per day thinking and sorting out my feeling. I felt I had been betrayed by two of the most important people in my life. I felt anger, hurt and loss. I felt booed, screwed, and tattooed. I also felt a sense of possibility. I wanted the divorce; of that there was absolutely no doubt. My heart told me that I would not be able to trust Jeanne again. Steve was history no matter what decision I reached regarding my marriage. I would have my closure with him!

But there was the matter of the children. Diane rightly brought up the fact that no matter what, they had to be factored into the decision.

Gradually, over time I reached my decision. The day before Jeanne was released I moved my things from our bedroom into the guest room. The kids were back by then and asked why I was moving and I was able to make up a great story about how for the next few days Mom would need to recuperate and that our room would be her recovery room. I was rather proud of that but I also knew the kids knew that something was wrong. Kids possess more of a sense of reality than we could ever suspect.

The next day I went and picked Jeanne up from the hospital. Steve would be in for another day and would probably be out of commission for another week. This gave me the breathing space and time I needed. When I arrived, Jeanne leaned up expecting a kiss. Obviously she thought that by my allowing her back in the house all was forgiven. I gave her a peck on the cheek for the benefit of the nurses as we wheeled her out to the car. She got in the passenger side as I held the door. Jeanne said her goodbyes and thanks for all the kindness during her stay and we rolled off toward hoe. It was the first time we had been alone and in close proximity in over a week.

"Mac, we are going to have to talk about this sooner or later", she began.

I turned the corner to P Street. "Yes, we are but not yet. Wait until we get home and I will explain things."

Jeanne pursed her lips. "So, are you filing for a divorce? I won't blame you, if you do. I don't want you to, but I can't blame you if you do."

I looked over at her, irritated. "Is your hearing damaged? I said I would explain things when we get home."

Jeanne bit her lower lip. I could tell she was fighting back tears. "Mac, I love you. I have loved you ever since we met. I...."

I cut her off in mid-lament. "Jeanne, one last time; we will talk a bit when we get home! Now, please, shut the hell up!"

But she wouldn't listen. "Do the kids know? Do they hate me?"

I sighed. "Jeanne, Kelli and Paul took them for awhile after the, shall we say incident. They think that Mom and Uncle Steve had a bad accident involving a fall. They know something's but they have been told very little. They will be told, however."

She tried to keep the conversation going but I wouldn't answer. Finally I pulled by the house and got out her small case. She was a lot stronger than she pretended so I didn't help her into the townhouse. The kids ran and greeted her. As they kissed and fused I smiled, stepped around the mob and went back and took the case back to my wife's bedroom. I was putting her stuff away when she walked in.

"Mac, what happened to our wedding picture over the mantle?" she asked taking a seat on the bed.

Wordlessly, I turned from what I was doing and looked at her.

"She nodded and said, "Oh. Is it in the basement?"

"No, it is ashes in the compost heap," I said resuming my task at hand and not looking up.

"Mac! That picture was priceless to us! It was the best picture from our wedding. I loved that! Not to mention what it cost Steve to have it done."

I just turned and looked at her. She looked around with a puzzled expression. "Mac, where is your alarm clock?"

I turned said, "Okay, this is the way it is going to go. First, this is now your room." Jeanne started to speak. "Just shut up and listen," I barked. She looked down and nodded.

I went on. "For the next few days we are going to go through the motions of a married couple. The kids know we have to sleep apart so you can get rest. That will take care of things for the interim. When Steve gets out of the hospital next week, we are all going to had a little meeting of the minds about this situation"

Jeanne shook her head. "No, I was a fool. I know he was your friend and that what we did was wrong. I love you. I was stupid but Steve pushed things and I let it get out of hand. I don't want to have any thing to do with Steve again."

"Well, that's just too damn bad, Jeanne, but you should have done something about that 10 years ago, don't you think? I know about Zachary. Steve and you will be here next week or I can just finish packing my shit right now."

I had often read about it but had never really believed that the color could leave a person's face; I was wrong. With the revelation that I knew about Zachary Jeanne's face had actually turned ashen.

"Mac, I don't know what to say."

"Good, don't say anything! Not until we have Steve here. In the meantime, I suggest you start making some decisions about what you want for your marriage, your life and your future." I turned and left the room hearing her sobs fade behind me.

I won't go into all the posturing, pleadings, and door slamming which followed for the next week. It is sufficient to say that things were tense. We both were able to be civil to one another; Jeanne was even able to laugh once or twice. She had mended quickly and expressed and interest in our getting together for a little "hide the salami" as she called it. I remember pursing my lips and shaking my head no. I knew that she figured if she could lure me into the sack she could assume all was forgiven. The next day she came again playfully trying to bite my neck. Again I showed profound disinterest. This was becoming somewhat enjoyable for me. For once I had her jumping through hoops for a little action! On that Saturday she brought out her big guns. She came to the den wearing a short red teddy I had always found irresistible in the past. To her surprise and mine, when she donned it this time I had no reaction. Hers was immediate. Upon seeing my ambivalence she began to cry and ran to her room slamming the door. I, on the other hand, shrugged and went back to my computer game.

I had arm twisted Steve into coming over for a meeting on the following Wednesday. The day finally arrived. I gave the kids twenty five dollars each with strict instructions to go to the movies and not return for at least 2 hours.

We met in the living room. Steve was sheepish and if he noticed that the picture was missing from over the mantle, he made no mention of it. Being a good host I ushered them to their seats, bid them to sit, and poured Starbucks French Roast coffee. There was no reason to be totally uncivilized.

We sat and stared at one another for about thirty seconds before Steve said, "Mac, bro. I am so sorry. I know how it must have looked. But I want you to know this was the only time anything like this has ever happened. Jeanne loves you. I love you. You're like my brother!"

I held up my hand. "How many times have you screwed John's wife. Steve?" I asked innocently.

Steve frowned. "What?"

"You said I was like your brother. The only brother you have that I know of is John. I just wanted to know how many times you screwed Gretchen, his wife." I said.

"Never!" Steve sputtered.

"Then I am not like your brother, am I?" I reached down beside me and pulled out the cricket bat. Steve flinched and started to get up. Jeanne gasped and moved back; giving room should I decide to start swinging. "Steve, you are a cunt hair from having me use this on your head. So use what little sense you have and for the rest of the time you are here, unless I ask you for an answer, shut...the...fuck...up!"

Jeanne started to say something but I cut her off with a look. "Let's first get something straight. Some men would want to know when this started. Some want to know how far it went, why it started, how long it lasted, where it was going. I thought long about this and you know what? I don't care! I don't give a rat's ass if it started ten years ago, thirteen or my wedding day. Little Zach is evidence of how far it went. I don't care if it started because of an accident, a moment's unbridled passion, my absence at some critical juncture of our marriage, or just plain treachery. All evidence indicates that while it may not have been leading to wedding bells, it certainly wasn't going to stop if I hadn't come home unexpectedly one day in fifteen years. But it stops right now." I said tapping the bat on the floor to emphasize my point.

I paused and let my words sink in. Jeanne had her arms wrapped around herself in that peculiar way she did when she was distressed. Steve was trying to sink into the chair in which he sat.

I went on. "You hurt me beyond any comprehension. You made me do something I thought myself incapable of until just a few days ago; you made me despise the two people I cared most about in the world."

I turned to Steve. "You and I have been like brothers as you put it for over twenty-five years. We went to junior high, high school and college together. No one celebrated your success more than I when you went to the majors. And when you had to leave I wept right alongside of you."

And as repayment, you fucked my wife, purportedly had a child by her and left me in the dark about the whole thing. You destroyed your own marriage because you were headstrong and spoiled and tried your dammedest to do the same to mine."

With that he looked up sharply. "Where did you hear that?" he hissed.

I nodded to confirm his fears. "Oh, yes, I spoke to Diane. She told me enough and I could guess the rest if I cared that much to try. But, that isn't what we are talking about. We are talking about cold-blooded deliberate betrayal. Betrayal of friendship, betrayal of your own vows and betrayal of a promise you made to me once, remember?"

Steve looked at me puzzled. "What promise?"

"The one where you promised to remember just whose wife Jeanne is and you made it to me on our wedding day." To my side I could hear Jeanne begin to sob. I turned to her. "Our discussion can wait until after Shitbird and I are done here. But your betrayal was the most devastating and hardest to understand.

"But the good news is that I forgive you. I forgive you both. Jeanne, I will not be asking for a divorce," I said.

Jeanne looked up at me incredulous. She rose and threw her arms around me. I held her for a moment and then disengaged myself.

"Mac, I am so happy. I love you." She began.

"Save it," I told her. "You may change your mind before this is over. I said I forgave you. But forgiveness does not preclude wisdom, prudence or consequences for actions. And I am not doing this because I am a great guy. I am doing it because I am not going to waste what remains of my life for the likes of you."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

I reached down next to me and pulled out a folded sheet of legal paper and tossed it to him. He picked it up and opened it.

"What is this?" he asked beginning to examine it.

"That is a request for a court ordered paternity test." I explained.

"A what? Are you crazy?" He stammered.

"Steve, I heard about Zachary. I know that you think he is your son at least biologically. Well, we are going to have a blood test done and find out for sure. If it turns out that you are, then you and my devoted wife here are going to have to tell Zachary when the time is right." I said.

Almost on cue, they both leapt to their feet. Jeanne was the first on race day.

"Mac, what are you thinking? We can't tell a small boy that! He won't understand. Think of the damage you could do!" She gasped.

"On the contrary, think of the damage not telling him could do", I countered. I turned back to Steve. "For years now I suspected that Zach had been your smug little secret. If what I heard the other evening is any indication you trotted him out and waved him around whenever it suited you. But that is over. There is no designated hitter rule here. It is time to stand up to the plate all by yourself."

Steve looked pained. "But why, Mac? Why drag Zach into this?"

"Yes, what good can come from ruining Zach's life?" Jeanne piped in.

"More like saving Zach's life, Jeanne. I didn't start this. I certainly didn't want this, but I will finish it. And I didn't say we had to do it tomorrow or this week or even this year. But he will be told and you two will do it. Let' not forget you two dragged Zachary into it when you forgot a few things. Like that you were my wife, Jeanne and you were my best friend, Steve. Zach needs to live a life built on more than lies. Steve, there are sound reasons for this, not the least is evidenced in your own life. Why did you leave baseball??" I inquired.

Steve looked uneasy. "Medical reasons, you know that."

"What medical reasons? Never mind, I'll tell you; high blood pressure and neurological disorders. But before we left Diane told me something else. You were diagnosed with the initial staged of MS, weren't you, Steve?"

Steve was stunned. It is the first time I can honestly say he was at a total loss for words. I reveled in it. Vainly, I looked for a way to make the feeling last longer, stay fresher. Presently he asked, "Did Diane tell you?"

"Yes. Isn't there a hereditary aspect to high blood pressure, Steve?"

"Yes, there is", he answered sheepishly.

Jeanne came to her feet. "You son of a bitch! You knew and never said anything?" I stepped between her and Steve, more to protect her from following my lead and doing something foolish. "You knew. Is MS hereditary, too?"

I shrugged. "I don't know but we need to find out and anyway that is not the issue, Jeanne. But it illustrates why Zach has to know, if it is true that Steve is Zach's biological father. What if Zach would have needed a bone marrow transplant? I could give it too him. But, that is all moot." Here I looked him right face, my eyes boring into his. "Sharing genetic content does not make you his father, Steve. I am his father. When he had the measles, I stayed up all night with him. When he was afraid of the monsters in the closet, I chased them away. Parenthood is not genetic."

Steve looked at the floor. There wasn't much he could say. Jeanne just looked at me and I could see a bit of pride in her eyes. I wished I could do the same.

I took out a second sheet of paper and handed it over to him. "This is a peace writ, sometimes called debt certificate or a restraining order. Either way it goes with Zachary this keeps you from coming within 100 yards of me or my home. If you do, I will have you thrown in jail. I am sick about having to do this but I have a family to protect. Actually, it protects you too because if, after you leave here, I see you again too soon, I don't know what I would do."

Steve gazed at the paper in his hand like it was a snake ready to strike.

I consulted my watch. "It goes into effect in about 10 minutes so if you have anything to say make it quick. After we have the test results back we can decide what to do about seeing Zach. As far as we are concerned, you are dead to me. I never want to see you, hear from you or talk to you again. Do you understand?"

For once he displayed wisdom. He walked over to the door to open it. On his way past me I said his name low and sweet. He turned to face me and never saw it coming I am glad to say. My fist came from down low and swept up in a narrow arc. His head snapped back and his body hit the floor with a loud thud. His eyes glassed over as he shook the stars from his field of vision. I stood over him massaging my knuckles. They would soon begin to swell.

"You can add that to the charges but I really figured I owed you that, Steve."

His eyesight cleared and he struggled to his feet. He looked at me again with genuinely sad eyes. I heard a hushed, "I am so sorry" and with that he left.

He walked out of my home for the last time that day leaving Jeanne and I to face our own demons. Jeanne got up and went to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. I watched her going about the simple task of making coffee just as I had hundreds of times over the past years; the way she held her cup and poured the bitter brew, pushing a stray wisp of bland hair from her face. She added her cream and stirred it. Somehow the whole day had taken on this surreal quality, a veil of disjointed reality. She looked up at me and tried to smile.

"Would you like some", she asked. I shook my head and she padded into the living room and sat down on the loveseat. I took my place across from her. She took a sip of her coffee and looked about the room as if it was for the last time. Good. I wanted her to realize the severity of what she had done.

"So, is this where we divide up the furniture?" she asked quietly.

"We can do, if you want. But I wasn't planning on asking for a divorce just yet", I responded.

Her brows knotted together even as relief came over her face. "You don't want a divorce?"

I shook my head. "I didn't say I didn't want one. I said I wasn't prepared to ask for one."

She looked at me in confusion. "I don't understand."

I walked into the kitchen and pulled down a tumbler from the cabinet and filled it a quarter of the way with White Label, reconsidered, filled it a third, tossed three ice cubes, reconsidered that and withdrew two. Fortified, I returned to the living room. Jeanne's eyes had never left me that entire time.

"A little early for that, isn't it?" she noted.

I took a short swallow. The fiery mixture warmed me. "You are giving me advice now?" I paused. "I said I do want the divorce, Jeanne. This marriage is over. But I am not certain our splitting is the best course of action either. I do want to know one thing though. Why, Jeanne? No psychobabble, no justifications, just a simple why? Why do it and why with Steve?"