Dinner at the Perryville Pt. 02

I did a quick look at her mom and dad. Her dad was staring at Wainwright with admiration that bordered on hero worship. Jeremy was obviously the champion he'd always wanted for his daughter. The look on her mom's face was far different. She wasn't looking at the war hero; she was looking at me! I could smell the fear; she really didn't want me to leave. I wondered, "Was it because of Ryan or because of who I was?"

Jeremy was a good "Joe" about his speech. He could've gone on forever, but he kept things short and suitably bland. We didn't get a lot of blood and guts; he talked about his "buddies" and all their hard work and loyalty. I had to give him credit; there were children in the audience. I guessed he wasn't a bad sort after all... yeah sure.

I thought about my son, and was glad Ryan wasn't with us. He's an alert kid and would've caught the "why I never got married" line, plus I didn't want to explain why I never joined up. What could I have said? I never joined up because I'd never thought of it? I know I should've. If I'd joined the National Guard college would've been a lot less expensive.

The old guy got back up, "I see by my watch and by our disc jockey, also a veteran, it's time to start the music," he waved his right arm around and shouted, "So maestro - take it away!"

The D.J. flipped his switch, or whatever it was they did, and out came the noise. He started out with the old Lee Greenwood, "Proud to be an American". Come on what else would anyone suspect.

I watched as the modest sized dance floor in front of the dais filled up with a variety of old codgers and younger hard ons. Marjory looked at me expectantly so I took her hand. As we walked out I wondered what should the steps be for this particular song. I didn't have to worry. Just as we hit the floor "Guess Who" swooped in. "You don't mind Cullen. After all you've been married to her for fifteen years," he seamlessly moved between me and Marjory and spun her away.

I stepped back and started for the bathroom, too many sodas. I did cast one quick look back. Good ole Jeremy was smiling and laughing. Marjory was watching me. I shrugged in her direction, and turned for the bathroom, excuse me latrine.

When I got back the D.J. had some kind of disco thing on, sounded like the Bee Gees. I thought, "Weren't they all dead?" Marjory and "Audie Murphy" were seated at our table. Marjory's mom and dad had moved to another table. I sat down next to Jeremy. Marjory was on his other side.

Marjory looked at me imploringly, "Can we have our dance now?"

I said, "Sure." We got up and took to the floor. The D.J. must've been told something; suddenly he switched to another tune, a slow number, well sort of slow, something on one of Miranda Lambert's tracks called "Easy Living". Her mom and Marjory both knew Miranda, even in spite of her 'out-of-marriage' antics was still one of my favorite singers. There I was with my soon to be ex-wife dancing to a tune about real love. How about it!

The song kicked in, 'The weatherman says rain today... We'll saddle up and...'

Then Marjory kicked in, "I'm upset Cullen."

"What now," I asked?

"Its Jeremy"

"No, what about Jeremy," I asked?

"Cullen."

"Jesus Marjory spit it out."

"He thinks we're already divorced. He thinks I'm ready to jump in the sack with him."

I went from impatient with Marjory to instantly pissed, and I wasn't even sure what about,

"Did he make a pass at you," I asked?

She stopped moving and looked up at me, "You mean between telling me about all the heroic things he's done? Yes, he did."

"No shit," I said. Then I said, "You going to take him up on it?"

The song was still playing but neither of us heard the words. Marjory looked up at me. Her face transmogrified from expectant and appealing to something like twisted terror. Hell we'd just come through shark week. She looked like some twenty foot Great White Shark had just bitten off her leg. "Cullen," she wailed. It had to be a wail; I couldn't think of another way to describe her voice.

She threw my arms from her shoulders and screeched, "No!" Then blubbering like a baby she jumped back and away; almost falling down, she slipped, tottered, and ran for the ladies room.

I just stood there. I didn't know; what was I supposed to do? I looked around. Damn, everybody was staring at me. I caught Marjory's mom's eye. She looked white as a sheet. I was afraid she might be having a heart attack. I moved as quickly as I could and got beside her.

She asked, "What happened?"

"Jeremy thought that we were already divorced. He made a pass. I asked her if she planned on accepting."

My mother-in-law aged ten years. She slumped and whispered, "He didn't. You didn't." She turned and walked back to our table.

Well shit! I'm just a surveyor with an unfaithful wife; what was I supposed to do? I went toward the ladies room, er. Latrine. There were other women there so I waited, and waited, and waited. Then finally I hammered on the door, "Marjory you better come out. Other women are waiting for you."

She opened the door. She looked like nothing had happened. Peering past me she fluttered her eye lashes, "Oh, I'm sorry ladies."

I glanced back, none of them seemed impressed. "Come on Marjory, your mom's upset." She swaggered past me toward our table.

I got back and sat down. Marjory sat down, Marjory's mom and dad sat down; we all sat there till finally and mercifully someone decided it was time to go.

So we heard the speech, ate some food, drank some beer and sodas, and did a little, very little, dancing. The old guy reclaimed the mike and after offering Wainwright up for after party questions, something I was sure the lecherous bastard wanted to do, he warned us to all be careful going home. Marjory, her mom and dad and me all got up to go, but not before mom asked if we could go someplace else and talk. Marjory and I agreed. We had no choice, they were driving. We went to a nearby Denny's.

++++++++

We were at it again.

At the Denny's Marjory's mom opened with the first salvo, "I've got some good news and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first?"

Marjory, by then fully recovered from her experiences at the 'festival' for Jeremy, jumped right in, "Get the bad news out of the way first."

Her mom sighed, and then, "Your dad's heart's not good, and they're afraid to operate right now because of his anemia. He might go under and not come out. Anyway, we'll have to wait and see."

Marjory asked, "Surgery, what kind?"

"By pass," her mom said.

Marjory was close to tears..., again. I asked, "There's good news?"

"Yeah," her dad said, "we're not moving."

Mom picked it up from there, "We're on a watch so to speak. The people down in Baltimore at Johns Hopkins want to keep a check on him, and with them and the people at Chambersburg General dad will have the best chance."

I said, "Ryan will be glad you're not moving."

Marjory added, "Dad... you need a nurse or anything? I mean full time."

"No," he said, "I'll be all right. I have your mom. She's the best."

Marjory's mom reached over and touched her husband's hand. Marjory did the same.

Me, I had other thoughts. "The son-of-a-bitch could guzzle down a half dozen beers, and then cry about a bad heart?" That got me, but what really got me was how I thought they were playing things. They knew Wainwright was the guest of honor at the dinner tonight. They thought I'd get jealous? Nothing like a rival to keep the wimpy husband on the farm. I looked at Marjory. I bet she was in on the whole thing. I bet the whole thing about Wainwright propositioning her was a put up job. That decided me; I knew what I was going to do. First, like I'd originally planned, I'd find a small apartment and move out, then I'd let Marjory start playing maid to me and more of a full time mommy to Ryan. Second, though I already had a line on the truth, I'd put my still nascent plan into effect to see if anybody had set Severeid on us. If anyone had, then I'd blow Severeid and anyone else involved sky high. Those were old ideas; my newest thing was to step back and watch Marjory. I just knew our 'War Hero'; once he'd fully understood Marjory and I were having problems, he'd start sniffing around. I didn't want it, but I was afraid she'd throw me to the curb a second time anyway so why not with him? If she did, well que sera sera.

I looked at both Marjory's parents and Marjory, "You guys all know you can count on me." Her father pretended not to hear, Marjory evinced no response, but her mom looked relieved. I hated to hurt people. I felt like I was being a phony, but then, weren't they?

++++++++

The ride from Denny's back to our house was completed in somber silence. Marjory's dad drove, his wife rode shotgun. Marjory was behind her father, me behind her mother. I pretended not to notice, but her dad spent as much time peeking at me through the rear-view mirror as he did looking at the road. I wondered, "Was I supposed to say something?"

We got to our house. It was late. I was tired, and I was sure everyone else was too. I supposed Ryan was inside with the babysitter. Marjory's dad, always the gentleman, got out to open his daughter's door. It was then the shit hit the fan.

There was no moon, and it was dark. From out of nowhere, this huge hulking asshole appeared. I watched as I got out of my side of the car. It was fucking Brandon Severeid! What was he doing here? He was big, and he swung a powerful roundhouse into the old man's jaw. Marjory's dad dropped liked a rock!

Marjory stood where she was - stunned.

Marjory's mom was out of her seat and running around to her husband shouting, "Wilmer! Wilmer! That was Marjory's dad's first name. His last name was Wilson. Her mom's name was Betty Jean.

I leapt from my side of the car shouting, "You fucking asshole! You just clobbered an old man who has a bad heart!"

Brandon looked from me to the old man and back to me. "You," he slurred?

"Yeah me," I said.

He said, "I..."

"You what," I said.

"I thought," he stepped backward and stumbled about.

He was half drunk. "You thought wrong," I replied.

The asshole figured it out and took off running.

I spotted his Audi and took off after him. About ten feet from his car I tackled him. He rolled over. I took both my hands, wrapped them in a fist, and brought it down as hard as I could right smack dab on his nose. It exploded like a firecracker on the Fourth of July!

Surprised at what I'd done, I leaped off him and stood back.

He rolled and sat up. Blood was spurting out of his nose like it was an erupting volcano. Crying and holding his nose he wailed, "You broke my nose! You broke my nose!"

Not thinking, I ran up, grabbed his right hand by the wrist. I pulled and swung it around as hard as I could. There was an awful 'pop' as his arm separated from his shoulder. I was delighted! Exultant! If I'd had a football I would've spiked it!

He dropped to the ground again; this time groveling, writhing, crying and incoherently screaming. To me it sounded like the "Hallelujah Chorus", "Rocky", and a million other victory songs I couldn't remember all rolled into one! My brain kept yelling, "I did it! Pay back! Pay back! Pay back!"

By then half the neighbors were out. My next door neighbor Bret Furness wasn't fifteen feet away. He gulped out, "Jesus Cullen!"

"He just hit my father-in-law," I said. I pointed to Marjory's dad who was still on the ground, and hadn't as yet made a sound. I wondered, "Had the mother fucker killed him?" But then he groaned and tried to get up.

Someone had called the police, and around the corner a squad car appeared. Marjory was crying, "Daddy, daddy."

Marjory's mom was holding him whimpering, "Wilmer, my poor Wilmer."

By then Ryan had broken free from his babysitter and had run outside shouting, "Mom, dad! What's going on?"

I told the babysitter, "Take him back inside."

Ryan squealed, "What happened dad?"

I told him, "Go inside. I'll explain later."

He looked scared, but did as he was told.

Mrs. Wilson kept crying, "Oh Wilmer, Wilmer."

Out of their car, the police reached us. The bigger one, a dark complexioned fellow, probably either an Italian or a Mexican asked, "What's going on?" I looked at his badge; it read Petrakis, so I figured he was probably Greek.

Through her tears Marjory pointed to Severeid and responded, "That man attacked my daddy as he was helping me out of the car. Then when he tried to get away my husband chased him down and beat him up."

The second policeman, an older smallish man with a big belly looked like he was comparing me with Severeid. Somewhat in disbelief he asked, "You did that?"

I was coming down and felt like crying myself by then, but I managed to get out, "He attacked Mr. Wilson, my father-in-law."

The big policeman was already on his phone calling in an ambulance and another squad car. The older smaller policeman was still looking at me, "You know Karate, or something?"

I was feeling better, "No," I said, then added, "Shouldn't you be taking names or something?"

The older fat policeman whose name I saw was Wellington said, "Oh yeah. So what's your name?"

I told him, "Cullen Culverson."

He said, "The surveyor? You suppose..."

The big policeman interrupted, "Joe, just get some names, OK?" Then he turned to Marjory, "You're the only one who seems to know anything. Mind telling me what happened?"

So while I went to help Mrs. Wilson Marjory started to fill in the bigger policeman on everything that happened, and was I ever furious! My stupid bitch wife didn't leave anything out. Man, she told her ass! She explained how Severeid and she had been "fooling around", and how I caught them, and how she was afraid I would leave her so she'd gone to Severeid's house hoping to get some sympathy, or help, or something. Anyway she confessed everything to Severeid's wife. I was numb with disbelief; like how could Marjory have been so stupid?

The big Greek policeman turned to me; pointing to Severeid he said, "You did that?"

I said, "Yeah."

The big cop scratched his chin, "He was trying to get away and you tackled him."

I said, "Uh huh."

He reached for the handcuffs at his waist, "Turn around, hands behind your back, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used in court..."

"Christ," I thought, "he was arresting me?" I said, "You're arresting me?"

The policeman said, "He was trying to get away. That's assault and battery, I think."

I thought, "He thinks it's assault and battery. Isn't he supposed to know that? Pointing to Severeid I said, "Aren't you arresting him too?"

The big policeman nodded, "Yeah, sure." He looked at his partner, "handcuff him too."

Severeid had already been crying; now he really started wailing, "No, you can't arrest me! I can't move my arm. I'll lose my job. Please officer," pointing to Marjory with his good arm he added, "You heard her story. I had a right..."

I yelled, "You dip shit! Fucking my wife gives you the right to almost kill her sickly old father?"

That's when the smaller older policeman, pointed at me and said, "Yeah, you should have hit him."

Severeid said, "I thought it was him. Oh please I can't be arrested for something like this. I'll lose my job. My whole career..."

The big Greek policeman looked from me to Severeid, to Marjory, to Wilmer, to Marjory's mom, and then back at me. He turned to his partner, "What do you think?"

By then an ambulance had arrived and one of two paramedics started helping my father-in-law on a stretcher. Coincident with that someone at the station who'd apparently been listening through the police phones interjected, "You better bring everybody down to the station."

Severeid's nose was still dripping blood. The other paramedic managed to squeeze most of it off. Then he grabbed Severeid's disconnected arm, yanked, and the thing fell back into place.

Severeid kept wailing, "No! Please! Not the station!"

The big Greek policeman said, "The guy with the nose should go to the hospital."

The person at the station replied, "We'll leave everything up to you."

Severeid drew some strength from that. He looked pleadingly at Marjory, "Your dad... please don't let him press charges."

Marjory looked at me, "What do I say?"

"Is asshole there," I pointed to Severeid, "going to press charges against me?"

Severeid shook his head, "Oh no, no."

The big policeman looked at the older policeman, "How do we write this up?"

The older chubby policeman shrugged, "Make it out as an accident report."

I and everyone heard what sounded like a disgusted sigh over the police radio. I started thinking, "This is really fucked up. If everything doesn't go right for Severeid he'll have us all in court."

The big policeman said, "OK, an accident report," and for the next twenty minutes the two policemen took all our information, and somehow managed to make what happened not sound like two assaults. They left. The second squad car left. The ambulances left for the hospital; one with Marjory's dad and her mom, and the other with Severeid. I made sure the Wilson's car was locked, and then followed Marjory into our house. Ryan was waiting inside.

Ryan looked from his mom to me, "Dad, what happened?"

I lied, "Do you remember what happened with you and the girl at school?"

He nodded.

I said, "Kind of the same thing."

He said, "That's why you and mom haven't been... you know?"

I was pretty sure he didn't mean sex so I said, "Yeah, that's why we haven't been talking."

He looked at his mother, "Dad really whipped him didn't he."

Marjory saw I'd covered her adultery with a lie, "He sure did. Aren't you proud of him?"

Ryan got glib; he looked at me sarcastically, "Don't let it happen again."

I smiled, "I won't."

Marjory grabbed Ryan's arm, "Come on Mister. Back to bed with you," and off they went up the stairs. I went into the kitchen, found a glass and the refrigerator, opened a can of Pabst, sat down, poured some in a glass, and had a long draught.

Marjory was back down after a few short minutes. She went to the Fridge, got a beer of her own, popped open the can, and took a long gulp. "What do we do now," she asked?

I took another sip of beer and looked her over. Though that white dress was wrinkled and smudged with dirt she looked damn good, more than just good. With that bra she had on her tits were flopping all around, and the short hemline gave me a terrific shot of inner thigh. I'd had what; rubber chicken and dressing smothered in store bought gravy, combined with a soppy tossed salad, and soggy string beans almandine. Plus I hadn't had hardly anything alcoholic to drink. On the other hand, I had watched Marjory in her slinky little outfit, plus a dozen other under-clothed youngish wives bounce their boobies and shake their booties half the night. Then there was that waitress at Denny's; she was young and her boobs just spilled out from her top. Last, I'd clobbered the guy who'd fucked my wife. In that regard I'd done a man's job. Was I horny? Looking at Marjory I knew what I wanted to do.

I told Marjory, "Go upstairs, and get a shower. Put on that shorty pajama set I bought you for Easter. Don't dry your hair. I'll do that."

Marjory got one of those looks; I guessed it was somewhere between excitement and fear. She certainly knew what was coming, she just didn't know the details. She put her unfinished beer on the counter, and without a word, left to go upstairs. I put my beer down too. Then I reached for the rack where Marjory kept our bigger kitchen appliances, knives, big spoons and such. I found the spatula, gripped it in my hand, "Yes," I thought, "This will do nicely." I went in the living room to give Marjory a few minutes to get ready.