February Sucks -- Big Time

The following is my take on GeorgeAnderson's epic Sept. 11, 2020 tale, "February Sucks," and is presented here with his permission -- many thanks to GeorgeAnderson for allowing me to do this. If you haven't read his story yet, I encourage you to do so.

When I first read this story, I was already neck-deep in "A Father's Justice" and had another story already lined out. Somewhere between Part 05 and Part 06 of "A Father's Justice," I began receiving emails from readers asking if I would take this on. By the time I finished that series, I had a number of emails requesting my take on the story. I re-read his story, and the others that have been posted by different writers and after giving it some thought, reached out to GeorgeAnderson.

The original premise, of course, remains the same, as does much of the lead-in. The major changes to the story start when the main characters are in the bar and Linda takes off with Marc.

For those who may be wondering, yes, this story includes what I sometimes like to call the "Saddletramp Treatment," generally reserved for cheating spouses. As a somewhat final note, I would like to state categorically that there is no supernatural or otherworldly intervention here, and no nuclear devices were detonated in the writing of this piece.

Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

...

February sucks. Big time. Let me rephrase that -- February would have to IMPROVE to suck big time.

It always does, unless you're one of those fortunate enough to live someplace that doesn't have much in the way of a winter. Every February sucks, but that particular February just seemed to out-suck all the rest.

I considered that as I sat on the balcony of my condo, sipping a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette. It's a nasty habit, I know, and one I gave up a long time ago when money was really tight. But money's not much of a problem now, and the truth of the matter is, I simply don't care much anymore.

I don't smoke around the kids, though. I don't want them picking up my bad habits, nor do I want to expose them to second-hand smoke. But they're with their grandparents this weekend, so I have some free time to sit and think.

The Worst February Ever in the entire History of Mankind started with two weeks when we literally didn't see the sun. Grey skies, high temperatures in the 20s and an occasional inch or two of snow. Everyone was looking forward to Valentine's Day as if it was their hope of salvation. It fell on Thursday that year, and so many people were taking the next day off that the editorial writers were saying we might as well shut the whole city down on February 15th.

My wife, Linda, and I had big plans for Valentine's Day, just like everyone else. Like everyone else, we awoke to two inches of new snow, with more falling rapidly. By mid-afternoon we were both sent home from work while we could still get somewhere: the whole city was shutting down. By the time we should have been getting dressed for our night on the town, all the roads were closed to non-essential traffic so we changed into our cozy sweats instead.

The great Valentine's Day date, the dinner-movie-dancing one that was supposed to make up for the previous two weeks of unrelieved beastliness, was frozen pizza and "Frozen" with the kids. The only dancing we did that night was dancing Emma and Timmy, ages six and four, respectively, up to their bedrooms amid protests of "You know there won't be any school tomorrow."

After the kids were asleep, I handed Linda a glass of wine, sighing as I did so.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I said. "This isn't how it was supposed to turn out."

"It's okay, Jim. It isn't your fault, and it was fun looking forward to what you had planned for us. Besides, if nothing else, I got a new party dress out of it," she said in response.

"Which I haven't seen yet," I told her.

"You know the rule. You don't see it until you take me out in it," she said, her eyebrows raised. I looked at her, trying to imagine what she had bought, and how she would look in it. Everything she wears not only looks great on her, it reflects who she is. She started making her own clothes in middle school, and still does from time to time.

She makes many of Emma's dress-up clothes, too. Anyone lucky enough to see her when she's dressed up would think she's the most attractive woman in the room, but would have trouble figuring out why, because there would be hotter women there. I looked at the diamond ring I'd placed on her finger almost ten years before, as it flashed in the firelight.

"Thank you for saying yes, Linda. I love you." I raised my glass. "To us."

"I love you, too. To us," she responded with a smile. We sat for a moment, comfortably silent.

"Linda, I'm sorry I've been a bear these last few days," I said. "It's nothing you or the kids have done, and you deserve better from me. It's just this damn February, and this..."

"I know, Jim," she said softly. "I'm sorry, too; I've been just as bad. I think the hibernating bears have the right idea. We really should be sleeping until spring. We've all been on edge, even the kids. The people at my work are a lot worse than you, though. What about your work?"

"The same."

"Well, look at it this way, Jim. We have each other, we have the kids, we have our home, we know where our next meal is coming from..."

"Yeah, Wendy's," I said with a chuckle, remembering our first date so long ago. It was a running joke between us. I had met her in college. My parents had to cut off my support in order to pay my dad's medical bills, and I refused to take out a loan, so after tuition and books I literally had no money.

Linda was somewhat little better off, and had offered to treat me or go Dutch, but I wasn't having any of that, so I saved up to take her someplace nice. She had told me I was silly and said the object was to spend time together and get to know each other, and we could do that just as easily at Wendy's. So that's where we went, and the rest is history. We've moved up in class since then, but we still get Wendy's now and then for old times' sake.

"Seriously, though," I said. "How do people get through times like this if they don't have love?"

"Sometimes they don't." Linda shuddered. A high school boyfriend of hers had killed himself with booze and pills on Valentine's Day night a couple of years before.

"Well, we do, and we will," I said. I put down my glass and took both of her hands in mine. "Happy Valentine's Day, my beloved wife."

"Happy Valentine's Day, my beloved husband." We gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, then decided we really should move this to the bedroom.

We ended up getting the three-day weekend the editorial writers thought we should have, courtesy of about two feet of snow instead of the predicted eight inches. Everything was closed, but fortunately, hardly anyone lost power, and enough people had snowmobiles that anyone who really had to get somewhere could.

Our kids, of course, were ecstatic. Mom and Dad were both home all day, there was snow to play in and pizza to eat and movies to watch, not to mention no school. What more could they want? Linda and I were pretty happy about the situation, too. There was no pressure to be anywhere or do anything, and we could enjoy our family to our hearts' content.

Food wasn't a worry: Linda and I both grew up around here, so we always made sure we had plenty in advance with some to share, just in case. Emma and Timmy tired themselves out enough that they didn't even make a fuss about going to bed, and slept like logs. That, of course, allowed Linda and me to content our hearts in ways for which we usually had to send the kids out of the house.

There were only a couple of things wrong that weekend, as far as I was concerned. We had hundreds of movies in the house, but the kids would only watch one. Frozen. Over and over and over again. Okay, it's a sweet little story, and has some good songs, but come on! And Linda still wouldn't model the dress for me, or even let me see it.

"Taking me out in it means out, not in," she said, with a flirty little smile.

"What if I promise to take you out of it? Is that close enough?" I asked.

"Nice try, but no cigar," she said, refusing to budge an inch.

The real world returned early Sunday evening when the plows came through our neighborhood. School and work were on for Monday, and there was sighing from all of us as we got ready. Just before bedtime, Emma and Timmy marched into the living room, freshly scrubbed and in their night clothes. Big sister was the spokesperson, of course, standing as straight and tall as she could.

"Mommy, Daddy, this weekend was the best ever! Thank you for playing with us, and watching our movie with us, and all being together for three whole days in a row. We love you." With that, Daddy's girl climbed into my lap and Mommy's boy into Linda's. After giving us the sweetest kid-hugs in the world, they switched parents and did it again. I looked over at Linda and her eyes were as wet as mine.

"We love you, too," I managed to croak out. "We're so glad that you're our kids."

That night, Linda and I made sweet love until we felt like we had merged into one being. We couldn't wipe the smiles off our faces the next morning, and neither could the kids. Suck-laden February settled back in, though, and the three-day weekend became just another memory.

Linda and I had just collapsed against each other in the sofa in the living room after finally getting Emma and Timmy down for the night, when her phone rang. I growled and uttered something, but I don't remember what it was.

"It's Dee, I have to get this," she said. We had a loose circle of five couples we hung out or went out with from time to time. We had all met as married couples, so there were no uncomfortable "back when you were single" moments. We all had the same ideas about fidelity -- that is, you just did it, it simply wasn't negotiable. At least I thought so at the time.

That way when we went out, we could dance with each other's spouses if we wanted some variety, and know we were safe. We were closest to Dee and her husband Dave. She and Linda were almost what you might call "best friends forever." Linda made an "I'll keep this short" gesture as she answered the phone.

I could see Linda getting more excited as she talked with Dee. She was all but glowing when she ended the call and plopped herself into my lap.

"So what was that all about?" I asked. My face couldn't help reflecting her smile.

"Well, my dear husband," she said with a smirk. "I know you think this horrible February has gone on just about long enough."

"You got that right," I said, reaching for my glass of wine. Linda grabbed my wrist to stop me, and firmly placed my hand on her slender waist.

"Well, we've been bemoaning the fact that not only is this the worst February in the history of the human race, we have to put up with an extra day of it," she said.

Something about that didn't reconcile with the smile on her face and I told her so.

"That's because Dee had this wonderful idea," she said. "The extra day of horribleness is on a Friday. What if we all got together, got sitters for the kids, had a really nice dinner, then some dancing at a good club, and then had hotel rooms for the night? That way we could get a little bit crazy and not worry about driving home, and we would end this horrid month right." I liked the idea, but had a couple questions.

"What about getting from the club back to the hotel? Wouldn't we have to drive?" I asked. Smack me if you want, but I'm almost always the guy who asks what can possibly go wrong with a plan.

"That's the best part, Jim," she said, sounding excited. "You know the Madison uptown? We've eaten there, remember? There's a dance club some of Dave's co-workers go to in the next block over. They have a live band coming in on Friday night, and there's no cover if you eat at the Madison! Oh, and Phil and Jane have already asked Mrs. Porter to take their kids overnight, and they say she's fine with ours, too."

"Hmmm, I have to think about this," I said, acting cerebral. I really didn't, but I knew if I acted like there was a concern, she would find a way to convince me. Instead, she grabbed a sofa pillow and bashed me over the head with it.

"Ow! Okay, okay, I've thought about it. Let's do this. But there's one condition," I told her.

"What's that?" Linda was looking at me suspiciously. I took her sweet face between my hands, and looked into her blue eyes.

"You wear the dress you bought for Valentine's Day, that I still haven't seen," I said.

"As you wish, my lord," she said with a smile. "Your wish is my command."

It was blue. The dress, that is. Don't ask me to describe what kind of blue it was because I can't. All I can tell you is that it made her blue eyes look like they would glow in the dark. It was long sleeved and high necked, and the skirt came below her knees, but it was anything but a granny dress.

The bottom of the skirt was flared, and rippled just enough as she walked to attract attention. When she danced, it would flirt all by itself. The smooth fabric made you want to run your hands all over it, as it concealed and displayed the womanly shape underneath. Linda smiled as she slowly processed down the stairs to where I waited for her, dumbstruck and gaping.

"Dear Jim," she said, softly. She closed my mouth with a gentle finger under my chin. I swallowed, but still couldn't speak.

"It's still just me, the same old me as always. You don't have to flatter me, though I admit I love it when you do," she said.

"You don't understand. You don't know just how amazing you look. You..." Words failed me. I took her slim hands in both of mine, bowed and kissed them. I looked up to see her eyes shining and moist, and saw the slightest tremble in her smile. I nodded. She understood.

The ten of us met at the restaurant. It was crowded on a Friday night, but we had reserved a large enough table that all ten of us could eat together. We laughed and talked and enjoyed a great meal, happy in each other's company and glad that February was finally ending. Linda was the most attractive woman in the room, and I must have told her so a half dozen times. I touched her arm or her shoulder or her hand as often as I could find a reasonable excuse. She returned the favor and smiled into my eyes. This was going to be a night to remember.

We checked into our rooms before we headed over to the club. Neither Linda nor I handle alcohol very well, so I usually drew designated driver duties. I was glad I wouldn't have to do that tonight. Not that I minded; my friends' safety was important to me, but I was looking forward to having Linda to myself as soon as possible. That seemed to be her idea, too. She excused herself to go to our room alone for a few minutes, and had her suggestive little "I'm gonna get you so good" smile on her face when she came back.

"We don't really have to spend very long at the club, do we?" she whispered as we walked. I knew how much Linda enjoyed dancing with our friends, so she might as well have said, "I'd better not have to wait too long before we're alone together, preferably naked." I grinned right back at her.

"Your call, babe," I said. She punched my upper arm lightly, then wrapped her hands around it and hung on.

We had reserved a table for ten at the club, and it was a good thing we had. It seems a lot of other people were busy forgetting February, but they weren't too busy to notice the five women in our group.

"You're attracting a lot of attention, babe," I whispered. "You're clearly the most attractive woman in the room, as usual."

"Oh, you." She looked up at me, lightly pressing a soft breast into my arm. "You know flattery will get you everywhere."

Neither Linda nor I are great dancers, but we don't disgrace ourselves, either. We just don't care that much -- we're out there to enjoy each other, not to provide entertainment for everyone else. So I danced with the love of my life, with occasional breaks for hot wings and a drink. I had gone to replenish the wings. When I came back, Dave was asking Linda to dance. I heard her response.

"I'd love to, Dave, and I would another time, but I want to make tonight special for Jim and me. I'm only dancing with him tonight," she said.

Was I proud? Happy? You'd better believe it. I distributed the wings and whispered into Linda's ear.

"So is it time to leave yet?" I asked.

"Right after you brought a fresh plate of wings? What are you thinking? We'll both need our energy for what I have planned," I said, raising an eyebrow. She gave me that look again, and held my hand under the table.

A few minutes later, the band took a break. In the relative quiet, we could hear loud laughter from another table, and turned to look.

"Hey, isn't that Marc LaValliere?" Phil asked, craning his neck to see around me.

"It is, it is!" Dee squealed excitedly. Marc LaValliere was the star tight end on the Sharks, our city's professional football team. Unlike many others on the team, he made his year-round home here. He had the reputation of being a genuinely good guy, and he was as well known for his community activities as for his exploits on the field. Marc became the main topic of conversation at our table, as the guys talked about his football feats and the women praised his good works and good nature.

"It doesn't hurt that he's a hunk, either," Dee added. Linda and I both knew who he was, but we weren't very interested in anything besides each other just then. We let the conversation wash over us, holding hands under the table.

"Hey, you two, get a room!" Dee said. Linda and I looked at each other. We hadn't even been kissing. Well, not really kissing, anyway. My feeding her wings didn't count. Besides, we'd already gotten a room. We were saved from further embarrassment when the band started again.

"Shall we dance here, or upstairs?" I whispered to Linda. Before she could reply, Jane interrupted.

"Look! He's coming this way!" she exclaimed. Sure enough, LaValliere had left his table and was heading for ours. I was amused by the reaction of the women at our table. Four of them primped and strutted, all but saying "pick me, pick me!" Talk about an embarrassing display. If you think a woman can't strut while she's sitting down, think again. Linda looked down, and held my hand a little tighter.

"Hi, I'm Marc. Would you like to dance?" he asked. He stood behind Linda's left shoulder, holding his hand out to her.

I felt her gasp as she dropped my hand as if it were a hot potato. I watched, dumbstruck, as she turned her back to me without a word, gave Marc her right hand and gracefully rose from her chair without even giving me a second look. I noticed her hand practically disappeared in his large paw. I also noticed the look of rapture on her face. At that moment, I had simply ceased to exist in her mind.

"Hey, man, now my feelings are hurt. I thought she was just dancing with you tonight," Dave said as he needled me.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too," I grumbled.

"Relax, Jim. It's just a dance," Jane said as she tried to soothe me. I tried to believe her, but I couldn't help having a bad feeling about this.