Fall and Rise

Disclaimers

If you find any errors, please remember they are there for a purpose. I am striving to include something for everyone, and some people are always looking for mistakes.

This is a story. It is not a story about what you would do in this situation, or even what you think should be done. There would be no point in writing a story where everyone's reaction is the same. This overlooks the individuality of the characters and what they, as created by the author, would do. That may not align with what you would do. Please try to keep that in mind when reading.

All those engaging in sex are 18 years of age or older.

Word Count: 19,757

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FALL AND RISE

Divided he fell. United he rose.

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"Girls ready yet?" I gruffly asked my ex-wife as I stood at her door, what used to be our door, to pick up my 13 and 12-year-old daughters for my visitation weekend.

"Almost. How are you, Sam?" queried my ex-wife, Pauline, sounding almost genuinely concerned.

"I only get 2 weekends a month. Please make sure they're ready on time," I growled in reply, ignoring her question.

"I try to, Sam, but you know how it is with them. You're welcome to keep them a few extra minutes to make up the time. So, you're doing okay?"

"I'll wait in the car," I barked while turning and walking toward my car.

"Sam..." I heard as I walked away.

I didn't turn around. We had this conversation all the time, with her trying to placate her guilty conscience and me ignoring her attempts to do so.

It was about another 5 minutes before Karen (age 13) and Wendy (age 12) came bounding out of the house with the small bag of things they brought with them when they came to my apartment for the weekend. They jumped into my car with a chorus of 'sorry daddy' and the anger I felt flowed away.

As much as I hated to admit it, Pauline was right. Getting girls this age anywhere on time was like herding cats, and I had never been able to stay mad at them anyway.

Since I only had them for a couple of days at a time, I tried to make those two days special, taking the "Disneyland Dad' approach. I just didn't want my precious time eaten up with daily life.

After their routine of bringing me up to date on everything they had done over the last couple of weeks, I prepared to hit them with the big news. They had been pestering me for the new Nintendo game system and I was finally at a place financially where I could make it happen. I had been highly anticipating the excitement I would hear and feel, and looking forward to making the purchase together, but when I gave them the good news I was disappointed.

"Oh, that's okay, daddy," said Karen. "Daddy Dave already took us to get one, and a bunch of games, too."

I moved instantly from disappointment to outrage! Daddy Dave! Daddy Fucking Dave! If I thought I was at the end of my rope before, it seems I just found an extra couple of inches.

Perhaps I should explain.

Dave was -- emphasis on was -- my best friend since high school. He was just a regular guy who happened to have more luck in business than he did in love. He wasn't a player, or a womanizer, or whatever the correct term is these days. He just hadn't met the right woman. We met a few of the women he dated, and some of them were very nice, but even I could tell none of them were a good fit.

Even though he was no blood relation, my kids took to calling him Uncle Dave and that was fine with us. Pauline's best friend was Aunt Daphne as well. They were as close as siblings can be and we thought nothing of it. I trusted them all like they were family.

I swear I hadn't the faintest idea anything was wrong. Nothing had changed in our marriage. Our sex life was great, our interactions were pleasant and easy-flowing, and we still spent a lot of time together. I found out one night when I came home on a Friday. Pauline let me know the kids were staying with friends for the weekend, and my first thought was that she had arranged a romantic weekend for us.

Nope.

I sat there stunned as Pauline informed me that she and Dave had fallen in love and that I was going to be served with divorce papers tomorrow. She claimed they had never had sex, well not full intercourse, which I didn't believe but also realized at this point it didn't really matter. She would be staying with Dave that night and asked me to find someplace else to stay starting the next day. I told her to go to Hell and that I wasn't going anywhere.

I was wrong.

What she didn't tell me was that there was a court order evicting me from the house. There weren't any allegations of abuse or anything like that; her lawyer had simply asked the judge to award her temporary custody of the children and the home until there could be a hearing, effectively kicking me out, and he ordered it.

I didn't fight the divorce exactly, but I did try very hard to make a nuisance of myself. Mostly by making outrageous demands like the house, full custody of the children, and child support in the amount of 75% her salary. It dragged things out for a while but eventually I got tired of doing it (the threats of contempt for wasting the court's time helped) and I just signed off.

I owed no alimony since our salaries were similar enough but did have to pay child support, and that was putting a pretty big bite in my budget. I lived very moderately to ensure I could afford to do some fun things every weekend I had the girls, and was why I had to take the time to save up for the video game system.

I suppose if I had been able to look at things objectively, I might have been able to admit that Pauline had tried to make things as civil as possible given the circumstances, but I didn't respond to that very well. Why shouldn't she be civil, I reasoned? She got everything she wanted, including a new, rich husband, while I struggled to make ends meet and got 4 lousy fucking days with my kids every month.

It was simple economics. Pauline and I had been doing fine in our standard of living between our salaries. Now, you subtract my salary but add Dave's decidedly larger one, plus the child support I was paying, and they were living pretty high on the hog while I just tried to get by.

Pauline and Dave got married barely 2 months after the divorce was final. The hard part was the kids, at least for me. I guess I expected more resistance or something, perhaps a little rebellion or 'you're not my father you can't tell me what to do', but the girls took it all in stride. Dave had been a part of their lives for years so when he moved into the house, and into mommy's bedroom, it barely fazed them. And they almost seemed excited to now have 2 homes to go to "just like their friends".

Pauline and Dave were moving up on their 1-year anniversary and I hadn't spoken one civil word to either of them since, and no words at all that weren't related to the children.

And now my kids were calling the traitorous asshole daddy.

I'm pretty sure I didn't let it affect me during the weekend, but by the time I was dropping the girls off at the house I was seething. I kissed the girls and they ran inside (no doubt to play the new video game system that awaited them) as Pauline opened the door.

"I need to talk to you," I said, and her reaction leads me to believe my tone was menacing.

I turned and stepped away from the house, and Pauline closed the door and followed me.

"What's wrong, Sam?"

"You want to explain this 'Daddy Dave' bullshit to me? They have one daddy: me. So, what the hell is this?"

"Oh, well, the girls wanted something else to call him other than Uncle Dave since, you know, we were married. It was awkward for them to call him 'uncle' when we were out as a family. We thought about trying just 'Dave' but that felt weird, too, so we brainstormed it together and decided on Daddy Dave."

"And just who suggested that one?"

"Well, I think it was me, but the girls thought it was great and went right for it. I mentioned that you might have a problem with it but they were sure you'd be okay. Please don't make this into more than it needs to be, Sam."

"You're not the judge of what this needs to be, okay? You don't have to hear them calling another woman 'mommy'? Especially the asshole that came in and stole your family!"

"He didn't..."

"And what about the fucking video games? You knew God damn well that I wanted to get those for them but Daddy Fucking Dave went out and bought them. What the fuck?"

"He...we just thought they had waited long enough and we weren't sure if...when you'd be able to do it. We just wanted the girls to have the games to play..."

"Yeah, and show me up in the process!"

"Sam, no..."

"Oh sure, let's show you how great 'Daddy Fucking Dave' is and what a loser your real daddy is, huh? Oh sure, I dumped him and married some rich guy and now we have all this money while your loser Daddy tries to make ends meet each month! But we can just dip into petty cash to get you whatever you want!"

"It's nothing like that..."

"I think it's exactly like that. God, you're fucking bitch!"

I turned and stalked back to my car and tore away from the house without ever looking back. I was so angry that I worried what I might do, and a life sentence for killing Daddy Fucking Dave was not on my bucket list.

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Things limped along like that for the next couple of years. If Pauline and Dave were expecting some thaw in our relationship, some mellowing of my anger, they were disappointed. They tried on numerous occasions to talk to me, mostly about my life and how they wished I could get past my anger, but I ignored anything that didn't have to do with my girls.

I hadn't had any relationships with women since the end of my marriage, and there were a variety of reasons for that. One, I really had very little spare money. I had received a couple of raises but not enough to make a huge difference. Two, I had a big mistrust of the female gender, so I focused my attentions on one-night stands with women I knew would have no interest in anything long-term. Finally, I was still very angry at what they had done to me, and even I knew I would make a lousy significant other right now. Bitter, angry and poor doesn't make the women come running. Of course, any sort of counseling never entered my mind.

The final straw came on the first weekend in June. School had just let out and I was looking forward to a summer weekend with my girls. Karen was a very mature and responsible 15, while Wendy was a delightful 14. I still reveled in every minute I got to spend with them.

"Girls ready yet?" I asked as Pauline opened the door, repeating the same exchange we'd had for years.

"They're not here, Sam," said Pauline, a look of confusion on her face.

"What do you mean they're not here?" I nearly exploded.

"They were invited to go with the Finley's to the beach for the week. They left this afternoon. They sent you an email a week ago."

"Yeah, and I sent them a response that this was my weekend and I would be here to pick them up. You let them go?"

"Of course. It wasn't for me to stop them from going."

"No, why pass up an opportunity to fuck up my life even more?"

"Now you're just being..."

"Tell them I'll be here to talk to them when they get back," I said as I stalked away yet again.

That whole week was just one big blur. I was so angry and hurt and frustrated and just about any other negative emotion you can think of. I still only got 4 days a month with them, though we did take an occasional day for special occasions, and I didn't want to give any of those up. If I only knew...

I went back to the house the following Friday night, this time to talk to them about leaving town on my weekend against my wishes. I had only actually entered the house a handful of times since the divorce, always at the girls' request. I did so now, not wanting to have this conversation outside.

I stepped through the door and into the living room. Pauline and Dave were standing in the kitchen watching me as I went into the living room. I wondered later if they knew what was coming. The girls were waiting for me and I tried hard to maintain my composure as I sat across from them.

"Mom said you wanted to talk to us about going with the Finley's this week? We sent you an email letting you know we were going," Karen started.

"And I sent an email back that this was my weekend and I expected you to be here and spend it with me."

"Dad, I...I was letting you know we were going. I wasn't asking permission."

"What!" I practically screamed. "You're not even 16 years old. What makes you think you can just make a decision like that without parental approval?"

"I had parental approval, dad. Mom knows the Finley's and said we could go as long as I cleared it with you."

"And you thought an email TELLING me you were going counted as clearing it with me?"

"C'mon, dad. I'm 15 years old. We're not little kids anymore. We're growing up and we want to do things with our friends. I thought you would understand that."

"I hardly see you as it is. Are you telling me you'd rather do these things than spend time with me?"

"Dad, what I'm saying is that we're getting older and we want to be able to hang out with our friends. And it's not like I can tell them to schedule their lives around my dad's custody schedule. Heck, there's something going on pretty much every weekend. Pool parties, trips to the beach, whatever. We're hardly here at the house on weekends anymore, either."

It became clear to me that my daughters were trying to tell me that they would rather hang out with their friends than spend time with me, but were trying to do so without saying those actual words. It was like a knife through my soul, and I had to accept that this part of my life was over. I was suddenly no longer angry, and was being overcome with sadness at losing my girls. I didn't want the girls to know they were killing me so I tried to suck it up.

"Uh, okay, so, what, do you want to just do away with the weekend visits?"

I thought I heard a small gasp from Pauline but the girls didn't react so maybe it was my imagination.

"We're just so busy these days, dad. I'm sure you remember what it was like. It doesn't mean we don't love you."

That was exactly what it felt like. Four lousy days a month and they couldn't even manage that. They had their mom and Daddy Fucking Dave for the rest of the time. There was no longer a place for me. I really hadn't expected my time as a father to end with the girls in their teens, but it had.

"Sure girls, I get it. We'll put an end to the visitation and you guys have fun."

They both leapt to their feet and wrapped me in a hug.

"Thanks dad. I knew you'd understand."

They ran to their rooms to do...whatever. It didn't really matter anymore, did it? In their innocence they had no idea what they had just done to me. My place in their lives was gone. I stood up and began the walk to the front door. Pauline moved to intercept me.

"You okay, Sam?"

I tried to straighten up, get control of myself. I'm pretty sure I failed miserably, but I tried to put on a brave face.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Actually, this will free me up to pursue some opportunities I've been putting off. I've got a buddy in North Carolina that's been trying to get me out there for years."

I headed out the door and I think it took a minute for Pauline to register what I had said. She closed the gap quickly and yanked me by the shoulder to turn me around.

"Wait, Sam, you didn't just say you're moving to North Carolina, did you?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not? You heard them. They don't need me and haven't for years, thanks to you. And now they don't even want me anymore. This is just the end result of the events you set in motion, Pauline. There's nothing here for me anymore, no one that wants me. You dumped me, and now they have, too. You two are their parents now. I'm out of their lives. Congratulations. You won."

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I had to get out of there. I couldn't think of anything more humiliating than breaking down in tears right then, in front of the two people that destroyed my life. I went quickly out the front door and went to my car. I couldn't for the life of me get the key in the slot (no fancy remote door locks for this guy). Maybe it was all the tears that made it harder.

"Sam, wait," I heard behind me, in Dave's voice, and then his hand weighed on my shoulder.

I didn't bother saying a word. I just wheeled around and slugged him in the jaw as hard as I could, and he went down, though not out. God, I had been waiting a long time to do that. Pauline rushed to his side to make sure he was okay as I fumbled through my keys again.

"Sam, don't do this. They're just at that age. They still love you and they still need you, even if they don't realize it right now. If you leave it will devastate them."

"What would you have me do, Pauli, huh? Sit in my shitty 2-bedroom apartment just waiting and hoping my daughters will make time for me? Or, more likely, be their fallback plan if there's nothing else to do that weekend."

"It won't be like that, Sam."

"Sure it will. You heard the same conversation I did. All I've had to look forward to is their visits, and now that's gone."

"You'll break their hearts."

"I doubt that, but even then, at least I won't be the only one anymore."

"Sam..."

"You saw how excited they were to not have to come to my place for the weekends anymore. Frankly I doubt they'll even notice, at least for a while."

"Sam, please don't do this. I never wanted this."

"Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't matter. Maybe I'll see you again someday."

I finally got the car door unlocked and open. Dave had finally climbed to his feet and they both stood there with appropriately sorrowful looks on their faces, though I doubted they meant it. I sat down in my car, pausing before closing the door. I looked at them one last time.

"Take care of my girls."

They both gave a slight nod and watched as I drove away. I wondered if they'd say anything to the girls. I hoped not. I didn't want them spending time with me out of pity or obligation. Apparently, it was time to go our separate ways.

The thing that's so hard about the break-up of a family is the end of the dreams. Pauline and I used to talk all the time about growing old together, having the kids and grandkids come to visit, hosting holidays, and anything else we would think of. The end of my marriage saw the end of many of those dreams, at least for me. But I had still been looking forward to graduations, weddings, and grandkids, and I supposed that was all gone now, too. Maybe I'd reconnect with the girls one day, but I couldn't shake the feeling this was the end.

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I called my buddy, Tim, and he said he had a position ready to go for me. It would be quite a bit more money, though I still intended to pay child support. They didn't really need it, as I've said, but it was the last connection I had to the girls and I wanted to be able to say I had lived up to my responsibilities. Just because I didn't want to subject myself to the pain of living so close and yet being so far away didn't mean I didn't love them and want to do my part for them.

I wasn't entirely truthful when I said Tim has been trying to get me out to North Carolina for years. In actuality, he simply said he'd always have a job for me if I needed one, and it was time to take him up on it.

My apartment lease had a clause that allowed me to break it, with 30-days-notice, if I had a job transfer/change out of the area, so I had Tim fax them the required letter. I had already paid the last month's rent and I just told them to keep the security deposit in lieu of my cleaning the place.