Ethan and Marie

"Yeah, he's datin' a nigger woman," he said. All of s sudden he broke out in gales of laughter. "I can't help it," he said. "Him datin' a Jemima, what does that say about his ability to attract women!"

"He attracted me," said Marie, indignantly.

"Exactly," said Howard. Marie fumed.

"Well, I gotta tell yuh, mister, if it weren't for your dick; you wouldn't have attracted this woman for damn sure. And, if you don't straighten up and start acting a little more like—Ethan—you might not be around all that long," she retorted.

"Mercy, mercy," said Howard. "Tell yuh what, let's go dancing tonight. I heard of a country western place that sounds like it'd be fun. Whaddya say?" She looked over at him and seemed mollified.

"All right. But, you better be on your best behavior. Got it," she said.

"Yes, ma'am, yes indeed ma'am," he said. He was trying his best to control his laughter. He did like to dance, and they hadn't been out in a while.

******

The opportunity to lower the boom on his largeness, my cuckolder, my ex-boss and for that matter my ex-love of my life was a while in coming. It was in fact more than full year after the divorce was final in the coming. And of all places it was at the Chili Pepper. Talk about déjà vu.

Chelsea and I had been sitting at our usual table for half an hour when that former love of my life arrived on the arm of her new and improved, larger than me love of "her" life. I nodded in the direction of the door and Chelsea took note. This was going to be interesting. She had never been formally introduced, but she, Chelsea, had been at the divorce hearing and she was there the day of the final decree, so she knew what they looked like. It had been a matter of circumstance that my ex and her lover had not realized who Chelsea was at the time.

Marie was casting around to see if she knew anyone when her gaze fell on me. She smiled; it was clear she was amused by the color of my companion. She nudged her date. He turned. At first he looked surprised; then, he looked as if he had won the lottery. They headed for us.

"Ethan, let's not give them any ammunition, okay," said Chelsea. Mac, our favorite bartender, would not be amused if we messed up the place; he was into peace and love, and well, unbroken furniture.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," said Marie. I just smiled back at her and nodded. I was determined not to let my mouth put my foot in it.

"I see you're expanding your cultural base," said Howard. I remained silent, but my smile faded. I looked over at Chelsea. I could have been wrong, but I had the feeling that she was doing all she could to keep from breaking out laughing; I didn't see what she found that was so funny.

"Well, ta-ta," said Marie, and the two of them wandered off to find a table. We hadn't said a word to either of them.

"Am I wrong," I said, "or were you about to break out laughing at good 'ole Howie baby?"

"Hmm, a little wrong. It's amusing what a complete fool he is. He had no call to come over to us and insult me—or you—bad move on his part. It's how losers like him make themselves feel big. He's not. The fact that your ex is hanging with him brings her down in class too," said Chelsea.

I looked at her realizing for the first time, or maybe not for the first time, but to a greater degree, just how well grounded and self-possessed she was. This girl of mine was no pussy, if that's the right way to describe a woman with so much inner strength.

The dancing started soon after the other two found their table. There was no contest per se, but it was clear that Howie and Marie were trying to out do us. They had no chance. He was too big to ever be a really good dancer, and Marie was clearly not in the best of shape for a long night's exercise. We, on the other hand were.

Chelsea had damn near killed me getting me into shape during the past year. The fact that I was in my late forties cut no ice with her. As far as she was concerned, I was a recruit and I was less than dirt while we were working out. The upshot was that in the final analysis my hands and feet were almost as fast as light, and they never tired. On the upside, the good news was that my dancing skills were mightily enhanced as a result of all of the murderous pain-and-gain she'd put me through.

It was almost ten and I hadn't hardly broken a sweat, and in Chelsea's case there wasn't even a "hardly" involved. Our competitors, however, were sweating a lot and gasping audibly by the end of each dance. It was a mystery to me why they were trying to keep up with us. Well, maybe it was ego; had to be ego, I guessed.

It was after a particularly grueling jitterbug that we happened to have to pass by their table on the way back to our own. No words had been spoken since the opening gambit by the two of them earlier on. That changed now.

It was Marie this time. Her chest was actually heaving. I have to add her that her chest looked real good—well it did!

"Your nigger girl has a lot of stamina," said Marie. I stopped and looked right at her.

"Apologize, Marie, and I mean now," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to say your little piece of fluff, dark fluff," she said.

"Get on back to your table little man," said Howard, backing up his wife.

"Fuck you, asshole," I said. Chelsea was just standing back. She was smiling, but there was not a trace of humor in that smile.

Howard, not to be talked to in such a manner by anybody as small as I was, rose to the bait. "I'm gonna rip you a new anus," he said.

He took a step towards me to shorten the gap between us. I was wearing steel toed cowboy boots. My right boot met his left knee in mid-stride. That was followed by several hooks and a right cross that flattened him and laid him out right then and there. He was semi-conscious.

I looked at Chelsea and smiled. No one wanted any part of Chelsea. Everybody stood back while I pulled my dick out and proceeded to spray his largeness as he had once, long ago, sprayed me. His humiliation was total and public.

Marie was crying and looking around trying to find a place to hide; there was no such place. I looked over at her.

"Payback's a bitch, huh?" I said. She just scowled and then howled. She came at me wanting to hit me. Chelsea stepped between us and slapped her. She hit the floor beside her husband.

Chelsea and I returned to our table as though nothing had happened. Every eye in the place was on us, and the buzz was palpable.

Mac came by our table five minutes later. "You ever pee on my floor again, I'll shoot your ass," he said, but, he was smiling.

"Okay, Mac, it was payback. He did it to me years ago. I just couldn't let the opportunity slide," I said. She shook his head and walked off.

Marie got a glass of water for her hurting spouse and got him back into his seat. They talked for a few minutes while he got his sea legs back, and then they left. He was limping noticeably; I was feeling good.

******

It turned out that more in the way of revenge was on the horizon, and from a surprising source. I got a visit at work from a member of the Marine Corps JAG's office.

I was assigning the day's loading duties on the dock when the uniformed man approached me.

"Judge Advocate General's? What do you want with me? I ain't in the Army," I said.

"Marines," he said. "You know a certain sergeant Chelsea Brown?"

"Yeah, so what," I said.

"Well, she asked us to do her a favor; actually it was my boss she asked. You have a place where we could speak privately for a moment?" I motioned him to follow me. The looks I got from the crew were amusing.

******

I was home a little early. I gave my girlfriend a call. "Yeah, now," I said. She arrived ten minutes later.

"Jesus, Chelsea, I had no idea you had this kind of torque. Who in heck is your contact anyway?" I asked, truly impressed with her explanation.

The JAG guy had left an envelope with me that was truly stunning. It seems that, not only had the judge that had presided at my divorce from Marie been screwing her—Marie that is—but, being bi-sexual, he had also been dallying with her lawyer, Mr. Drake esq. And, the envelope Maj. Conners had handed me before he left, contained pictures. Judge Hanlon was dead meat, as was lawyer Drake, and as well was my ex-wife. I didn't actually lick my chops, but close.

"Lieutenant General Stansfield," she said. I remembered that name.

"Isn't he the guy that promoted you to DI," I said. "But, he was a colonel if I remember right."

"You remember rightly. He's been promoted several times," she said. "I asked him to look into this for me. He has a lot of influence in a lot of places. Places neither of us ever want to know about."

"I will get this to my lawyer tomorrow," I said. "This is going to be fun."

The die was cast and several baddies were going down.

******

The knock on my door the next morning was tentative. Answering it, I was amazed to see Marie. She was dressed to the nines standing there looking as beautiful as I had ever seen her look.

"Can I come in, Ethan?" she said. Ironies of Ironies I kinda wanted to hear what she had to say, but I didn't trust her as far as I could throw a lead football with a broken arm. I waved her in.

"I'll be right back," I said. "I was just about to pee. Have a seat." I disappeared for a couple of minutes and returned. "Whatcha need, Marie."

"Ethan, for the longest time, I have been trying to get my courage up to come and talk to you. I—maybe we—need to clear the air. The talks we did have early on were colored by the anger or jealousy or stupidity of those days when our marriage fell apart," she said.

"Not my fault," I said. "I just wasn't willing to share you. It ain't in me."

"Yes, I know that now, and frankly as far as I'm concerned that was your loss. Your jealousy overwhelmed you, I suppose. I understood that. I would have done almost anything to make it right by you. You really had no idea what you were missing," she said. I had to give her credit; she sure as hell wasn't wimping out, flawed as her logic was.

"I was jealous, maybe, Marie, but, I was hurt more by the betrayal," I said. "Finding you fucking him in my house—well—there were just no words, Marie."

"If you had only given me a chance," she said.

"And what would have been my gain?' I said. "What if I had said okay to your little plan. What? A lifetime of sloppy seconds? Twice a week mercy fucks to keep me from going nuts? What?"

"Where did you get that term," she said. "Mercy fucks? I liked having sex with you. You know that. Any fucking would have been fun fucks, not any of this mercy stuff. But to answer your question.

"We would have had threesomes on occasion. I had talked to Howard about it more than once. We might even have included another woman down the line," she said.

"And the sloppy seconds?" I said.

"Yes, you'd have gotten plenty of them; but, and it's a big but, so would he! But, I never got the chance for any of that did I?" she said.

"Let me ask you, Marie. Have you been having threesomes since we broke up? Just curious," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"With judge Hanlon?" I said. Her eyes shot open and she paled.

"How?..."

"So, what now, Marie? What are you here for? Surely you didn't come here merely to tell me that I lost out on a good thing," I said.

"I came here to tell you that I was in the wrong too. I was stupid. You were a jealous fool, but I was a stupid fool if there is such a thing.

"I—Howard and me—should never of had sex in our house, yours and mine. That was one of the few times, by the way, if it matters," she said.

"It doesn't," I said.

"Well anyway, I wanted to apologize for ruining us. I take full responsibility for the destruction of our marriage. If I could make it right, I would," she said.

"Can I ask why you acted like that toward my girlfriend, Marie. I mean at the Chili Pepper?" I said.

"Hah? You caught me there, big guy," she said. "That night I was the jealous one. I couldn't believe that you were dating a nig—I mean a black girl. She was pretty though; I have to admit that."

"She is that," I said. "Let me ask you another question. You gonna ever give me my due from the divorce settlement." She didn't know it, but she was being given her last chance to save herself.

She smiled. "Gottcha there, didn't I," she said. "I figure you owed me for all the years I had to put up with—well—with everything."

"No, no, since we are being frank, give it to me, all of it," I said.

"Well then, frankly, Ethan, you were only okay in bed, never great. I needed great. So, I feel I am entitled to what I got in the divorce. You shouldn't feel too bad. You got to keep your retirement. I wouldn't have fought for that anyway. You did deserve something after all; you did provide for us," she said. "My lawyer was a pretty clever guy dontcha think." Now I was smiling.

"Neither he nor you were as clever as you think, Marie. And Howie baby is a complete moron. You're all going down, Marie," I said.

She looked wary, concerned. "What are you talking about, Ethan?"

"I'm sorta glad you came by today, Marie. It saved me the trouble of going to your place.

"I have been told to inform you, Marie, that if you testify against his honor, judge Hanlon, that you will get a pass on going to jail for perjury, but you will only get one chance. Just one, then the hammer falls. You shouldn't have lied about me in court. That was flat out perjury," I said.

"I couldn't let Howard go to prison for years, Ethan. Sixty days was bad enough. That is the only reason I lied. You may find this hard to believe but I still loved you then; hell, I still do I guess, at least a little," she said.

"You were so worried about him paying for his crimes. What about what he did to me? What were your thoughts about me when he did those things. Truth please," I said.

"I was sick to my stomach and afraid of what he did to you, Ethan. What he did to you was bad, even evil. He even scared me.

"I felt so sorry for you that I almost left him and begged you to take me back. But—then—I realized that you would get better. In prison, Howard, who I loved too, would rot. So would my heart. I had to weigh the two things, and so I lied," she said.

Finally some logic from her. It was self-serving, and it was an admission of a crime on her part, but at least it made sense. John Stuart Mill would have been proud of her utilitarian thinking.

"I won't be going to jail, Ethan, you can never prove I lied on the stand. And as for judge Hanlon, he's a good man. You have no case against him unless I do testify, and I won't.

"I wanted to clear the air between us today, Ethan. I think I have in a way. At least you know I didn't mean you any harm, that I wanted us to stay together. Heck we could still have a—relationship—if you know what I mean. I mean if you can get beyond your stupid jealousy," she said. "You could even include Chelsea. I know I could talk Howard into it."

"No, no, I don't think so, Marie. But, thanks for dropping by. If you're not in jail do it again sometime," I said. She smirked.

"I'm not going to jail, Ethan. It's over, the divorce, it is what it is, and it'll stay that way," she said.

I handed her a business card. At the same time I pushed rewind on the mini-recorder in my pocket. I stopped it and hit play.

"Ethan, for the longest time, I have been trying to get my courage up to come and talk to you. The talks we did have early on were colored by the anger or jealousy or stupidity of those days when our marriage fell apart," she said.

"Not my fault," I said. "I just wasn't willing to share you. It ain't in me."

"Yes, I know that now, and frankly as far as I'm concerned that was your loss. Your jealousy overwhelmed you..."

"I got it all, Marie," I said. She paled and looked faint. "That card has the number on it that you need to call if you are willing to testify against that asshole judge. Your choice."

"But.."

"It's over, and you lose, Marie. Oh, and Marie, I still wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole. Goodbye."

******

Marie decided that judge Hanlon wasn't such a good guy after all; she testified. The judge didn't get any jail time, but he was disbarred.

Marie has to depend on Howie now since she no longer gets any alimony. And, she has repaid almost all of the four thousand she got from my stake. I was satisfied with that.

Howard got a pass too, but his day would come, oh yeah. He evidently had a whole lot stuff to say about Mr. Drake; stuff the D.A. was most appreciative to receive. Seems Mr. Drake had stuck it to the man, the D.A., a couple of times. Well, payback is a wonderful thing, I guess. He and Marie are still married, how happily is problematical.

As for me, I just wanted to get away from it all. I didn't sue or look to stick it to the judge or any of them. I guess, I'm just a mellow guy, so shoot me in the ass.

Julie keeps me informed. She is a regular guest at our house. She has become a good friend of Chelsea's. Oh, yeah, Chelsea and I got married. We still workout together, dance together, and Julie and her new boyfriend—a Marine by the way—join us on the dance floor regularly.

Life is good.