February Sucks: Forewarned

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When Valentine day is ruined Jim finds foxes after his chick.
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February Sucks: Forewarned

By greenday0418

This my second contribution to George Anderson's February Sucks. Don't jump ahead as it is completely different than my first try; most of the story takes place before Feb. 29th. No one dies or gets beat up, but the main characters are all there, as well as the two unnamed couples getting names. I changed the timeline from the 'Frozen' era to the 'Shrek' era, mostly because there was less technology to keep track of back then. I also added sex, hot, steamy, sex from memories of my past. Many thanks to Randi for reading it and editing it. Original can be read Here

*****

The three day weekend was wonderful for our two kids, Emma (six) and Tommy (four). We played in the snow, played board games, ate frozen pizza, and watched 'Shrek' ten times. We built a fort under the dining room table and I read stories to them each night before bedtime. Reality set in my brain Sunday night as I was trying to go to sleep.

We played in the snow, Friday, but Linda's feet froze the first time we went outside and she never went out again. We played board games, but she had to be reminded it was her turn and she was always the first one to lose. When we were supposed to be eating cardboard frozen pizza, she was eating salads. The kids sat next to me when 'Shrek' was on, and I said the lines Eddie Murphy had as Donkey. Meanwhile, she was staring into space and thinking about, what? Who has been reading bedtime stories to them, I did it? What the fuck? How long had she been like this? When Linda went upstairs, I asked Emma, "How long has mommy been so quiet?

"Without turning her head she answered, "Christmas."

Why didn't I notice that?

*****

Feb. 18th

Monday morning, after normalcy returned, I went to work on time. Emma and Tommy went to school. Tommy called daycare school, and my wife did what? She straightened up the house and cooked dinner. After dinner, she asked if we could talk.

DA DA DA DUM. Beethoven's Fifth. Danger Will Robinson.

She seemed very nervous. "Dee called today. She has a wonderful idea. We missed Valentines' Day, but this year is Leap Year and the extra day of horribleness is next Friday. What if we all got together and had dinner, then drinks and dancing at a good club, and then get rooms at a hotel for the night? We could leave the kids with your mom or share a sitter for the night. That way we could get a little bit crazy and not worry about driving home, and we can end this horrid month right."

"What about getting from the club back to the hotel? Wouldn't we have to drive?" I'm a big believer in Murphy's Law, so I'm always the guy who asks what can go wrong with a plan, especially Dee's plans. I know it's not fun, but I can't help it. I'm always like that, and it's reinforced by the job I do.

"That's the best part, Jim. Do you remember the Madison Hotel that's downtown? We've eaten at their restaurant; it's Mediterranean themed, and the food was fantastic. We could reserve a block of rooms there. There's a dance club a block away, called the Top-Hat Lounge. Some of Dan's co-workers swear by it. They'll have a live band Friday night, and there's no cover if you ate 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 did have to think about it. The hair on my neck was tingling and I was in shock. How did we get from a general plan for a night out to a plan where every question was answered, in 30 seconds? Was this idea related to my misgivings of our three day weekend?

I stood up and got a beer out of the frig, popped the tab, and drained half of it in one swallow. I stared out into the dark abyss, outside my kitchen window.

"Well, is it all right?"

"Is what all right?"

"Friday night; next week; out with the gang?"

"I said I'd think about it. What's the rush? It's eleven days from now."

"I told Dee I would call her back."

"Why? Does it take eleven days to get ready for one night out?"

Her eyes opened wide, then narrowed, and she was making funny noises in her throat. Her lips were clamped together so tightly they disappeared. She raised her right foot and stamped down on the wood floor like she was crushing a bug. Then with a hair flip, she was up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door shut.

Wandering into the garage, I looked at the LED on the double line phone that was installed last summer. I did this so I could take calls in the garage without hogging her phone, yes, the house phone is hers. Anyway, the house line LED was lit up. I lifted up the handset, covered the mouthpiece with the palm of my hand, and pushed that button.

"...did he say?" That was Dee.

"He said he would think about it and then got lippy when I asked him again."

"Well do what always works, give him a blow job."

"I can't tonight. I got angry and slammed the bedroom door. He'll know why I am doing it. He won't fall for it."

She's right that I wouldn't fall for it. We've only had sex once since the first of January, and that was very mediocre.

They made minor chit-chat, said bye-byes, and hung up.

I hung up and raced into the living room, sliding into my recliner. I looked over to see her slowly coming down the stairs. "Are you done with your hissy fit?" I asked.

No answer, just bug eyes again.

"No? I'm going to get my shower." I was up the stairs into our bathroom before she could blink. Under the shower, I lathered up, rinsed, and shampooed my hair. As I rinsed the shampoo off, I felt a cool draft on my back.

She was staring at me from the doorway. "Will you be much longer? I want to get my shower." Was the chill in the air or her tone?

"You used to like showering together; don't you remember?"

She looked down. Was she crying?

I rinsed off, stepped out and grabbed a towel, and walked past her drying my hair.

"I'll lock up and read the kids a story." I finished drying and put my pajamas on. The kids gave them to me last Christmas, the Incredible Hulk.

After checking the doors I read my children a fairy tale. As they were falling asleep, I had a thought. Our two bedrooms, two bathroom starter house was too small now. There was a new sub-division going in closer to where I worked. Emma and Tommy would need separate rooms soon. A new house, 10 miles away, would get Linda out of the influence of Dee, who lived on the opposite end of town. Something to think about.

I returned to our bedroom and saw a light was on downstairs and our bed was empty. I tiptoed halfway down the stairs until I could see her sitting on the couch. Was she sobbing? Knowing I needed a plan, I went to bed and fell asleep.

*****

Feb. 19th

I woke up early like I always did, and was out the door before anyone else was up. It was a good day, for a Tuesday. Tomorrow would be a big day at work. I left five minutes early and got home on time. Dinner was ready, and it was my favorite: pot roast.

After dinner, I went up to the bathroom, took one of her Ambien, and went to the living room to watch TV. I didn't want to talk to her that night. I fell asleep and woke up in the dark, on the couch and covered by a blanket. Standing up I looked at the clock in the kitchen, 11:30.

I went to bed, not sure if Linda was awake or asleep.

*****

Feb. 20th

Wednesday morning and the alarm woke me up. Without a glance towards her, I went into the bathroom and did my morning duties. While dressing, I noticed she was facing me, pretending to be asleep. I went downstairs without a word to her, made coffee, and went to work.

I worked for the Sirius Corporation, a Network Security Enterprise Company. My job title was Administrator, Security and Encryption Development Team. Today, we would be turning on and phasing in a revolutionary concept for network security. If successful, my company would leap past our competition for a mega contract with the DOD, Department of Defense.

We started the program, and it was working. An hour later, and oh my God. Critical errors-0, serious errors-15, non-critical errors-103. These errors would be corrected before the end of the week. I never expected it would work without a major problem.

It was working because of the power rangers, my hand-picked team of 12 men and women between the age of 17 and 22. Men and women, are you kidding me? Boys and girls and I was their father at age 29. They were all geniuses with different strengths. Three of them were certified autistic savants in math and computer science. Two of them had high functioning Asperger's. Big Mark swore he could see the programs floating in the air as he wrote them. He wasn't lying, because he would turn his monitor off when he was programming. He said the light bothered him. Liz was the most valuable employee I had. She could look at a program with a problem and find it, faster than anyone I know.

I left Liz, the oldest one at 22, in charge of the lab and I went to report to the CEO, David Fox. It was 1:05 when I got out of his office, so I went home to talk to my wife.

Her car was gone when I pulled into our driveway. Thinking about the last week, I decided I needed information. I carried a box from my trunk into the house, down to the basement. The box was filled up with odds and ends from the fabrication room trash can at work. Digging down in the box, I found what I was looking for: a state of the art USB Flash Drive recorder. I hooked it to the house line and went back to work.

I stayed at work for a couple of hours, watching my team in the lab. I listened to them interact, as they tested the firewall and other functions of the software. As their voices bounced off the ceiling and the walls, they sounded like a bunch of kids fighting over plastic shovels in a sandbox. Before I left, I put two 16 MB USB flash drives in my pocket. After locking my office door, I admonished them, "You can stay a little late, but don't forget to go home."

When I got home, her van was in the garage. She was on the phone and I signaled that I was going to my office. Instead, I went to the basement and could see the light flashing on the recorder meaning a call or calls had been recorded. I went upstairs to see the children. Emma saw me first, "Daddy. Help me with my letters." She was tracing Q, R, and S. I helped her and then went and played trucks with Tommy.

"Dinner, wash up before you come down." She must be off the phone.

I marched them into their bathroom and we scrubbed up, then down the stairs with both of them talking at the same time. Dinner was fun for me and the kids; Linda was silent, just watching the children and me eat and laugh and eat. She almost seemed a little sad.

Dinner over, I gave orders from Donkey, "All right troops, bath time, pajamas, and..."

"SHREK!"

Thirty five minutes later they were tucked into their beds and 'Shrek' was playing on their VCR player. I went to the top of the stairs and heard nothing. Going down to the kitchen I could see the table wasn't cleared and no sign of her. I walked over to the door from the kitchen to the garage and put my ear against it. I could hear talking but only one voice. She was on the phone. I went back upstairs to watch Shrek, but my head wasn't into the movie.

I tucked them in, Emma with her stuffed Donkey, and Tommy with his stuffed Shrek. Why did I have sad feelings for them?

I closed their door and walked downstairs, passing our closed bedroom door. I went to the basement and switched flash drives. I went up to my home office and logged into my PC. I plugged the flash drive into a USB port and saw there were four .wav files. I put the drive in my pocket and left the extra drive in a drawer.

I looked in the kitchen and she hadn't done any cleanup in there either.

I went upstairs and our bedroom door was locked. Breathe, breathe. Easy Jim, calm down. My hands stopped shaking enough that I could take the key off the top of the door frame and let myself into my bedroom. The bathroom door was closed.

I paused before going into the bathroom, and I could hear her talking to herself. Enough of this shit, and I opened the door.

"Jim. You startled me. How did you get in?" She was in the tub and began washing her face with a washcloth.

I sat on the toilet and stared at her. "I used the key above the door."

She grabbed a towel, stood up, and wrapped the towel around herself. She didn't look at me as she walked to the door but I think she was crying. I stopped her with my arm.

"Lin, are we okay? You seem distant. Is someone bothering you?" For some, unknown reason, when I thought about her, she was Linda. When I spoke out loud, she was Lin.

Her head snapped up and a single tear rolled down her right cheek. "What do you mean? Has someone been talking to you?"

"No, but something is wrong."

She ducked under my arm and left the bathroom.

I locked the door, stripped down, and took a long hot shower. I dried off and went into the bedroom, noticing she was not in bed. I thought I heard her sobbing downstairs. Tomorrow I would have some answers. I pulled on some boxers and went to sleep.

*****

Feb. 21st

The alarm going off dragged me from a world of sweet dreams to a sad world of sorrow and pain. The show must go on. I shaved, brushed my teeth, gargled and dressed for work. In happier days from the past, Linda would have rolled over and said "Good morning". We would have made sexual remarks and she would ask for a kiss. As I was leaving, she would say, "I love you."

That morning, she rolled over and said, "Jim, you know I love you, right?"

"Do you?"

I made coffee and went to the garage. Backing out, I could see the frost on the grass. Another cold dreary February day.

I stopped at IHOP to eat pancakes and think and make a list.

One. Catch up on testing progress.

Two. Make suggestions.

Three. Rub their heads for encouragement.

Four. Listen to recordings.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?"

Huh? Oh, my food. "No thank you."

I finished eating, left enough for the meal and a tip, walked to my car and slowly drove to work.

I walked into the lab at 7:45 and the place stunk. I could smell Chinese food and pizza with everything. Nonfood smells were feminine body spray, big Mark's cologne, and incense. These turkeys stayed all night.

I stopped at an inside phone and dialed my boss, Martin Collier.

"Marty, Jim. It seems my children stayed up all night. I want to send them home but I need the two minibuses to take them."

"It'll take about 45 minutes to get the bus's ready. How is the testing going?"

"I can get a status update before they leave. I'll bring them in tomorrow and then ban them from the lab all weekend. We are three months ahead of schedule right now and I like them better when they're rested and don't stink."

"Sounds good. Marsha will call when the buses are ready."

We hung up. I walked to the center of the room and yelled out, "HELLO! Class attention, please. Roll your chairs over here please."

They did, and they all started to talk.

"No talking: what part of the orders I gave you last night did you have trouble understanding?"

"Well, you said..." was Eddie's excuse. Sasha said, "You didn't tell us not..." "I was in a zone and didn't..." came out of little Marks mouth. "Rabble, Rabble," came from the rest trying to talk at once.

"Quiet!" the buzz stopped. "Well you're here and you stink and there are food remnants everywhere. That is pretty good circumstantial evidence to get a conviction." I paused, looking at each of them. "I understand that the boys here can go days without sleep, showers, and mouthwash. But, you girls, I am embarrassed. You stink as bad as the boys do."

"Status, Liz first, little Mark, Eddie, and Sasha. Begin."

Each spoke in turn, and the pride and affection I felt for them tripled. When they finished, I took a deep breath.

"This new direction in Network Security was my idea. The completed package will put Sirius, ahead of our competition for the DOD contracts. The development and programming have been done by you 12, and I am very, very proud of what you have accomplished."

The phone rang and I answered. "Hello."

"Jim. This is Marsha. The buses are ready."

"All right. Everybody up. Grab your coats, purses, pouches, ditty bags, and follow me. You're going home. I want you to shower, sleep, eat, and sleep some more. Be here tomorrow, at 8 AM. If you drove yesterday, take a cab. Okay? Let's move it."

There were grumbles and moans, and the word "but" was said 50 times. Finally, we trooped to the foyer and the two minibuses were parked outside the front door. I stood at the door shaking hands and hugging each of them. When they were driving away, I went back to my office.

I made some coffee, got comfortable, and put the flash drive in a USB port on my PC. After it loaded, I clicked on the first file.

"Hello?" A woman's voice.

"Jane, this is Linda. I just got back from Dee's."

"Has clueless agreed to our plan yet?"

"No, and you need to stop calling him names. We're barely talking as it is."

"Sensitive, aren't we. Friday is only nine days away. I reserved a block of rooms at the Madison and a table for 14 for dinner there. And I reserved a table for ten at the Top-Hat Lounge."

"I'm still not sure about this. Jim has never talked about swapping."

"All men are afraid of it until it happens. When he is loosened up and finds himself in bed with Elly, he'll forget who he's married to. Elly is bringing her twin sister Annie to help."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want a new husband; I guess I want to have sex with Marc again, at least I think so. As I remember him in high school, he wasn't a very good lover. Jim is a fantastic lover and he rings my bell every time. But sometimes I want to be thrown down and fucked hard like a whore."

"Don't worry. When I cuckolded Phil, it took a while for him to get used to it, but you see how loving he is now. I even let him..." "Beep, beep, beep"

"Jane, I have another call. Talk to you later. Bye." Click.

Swapping? Did I miss something at one of our summer cookouts? And Linda wants to be treated like a whore? Sounds interesting, but she never gave me a hint.

File #2

"Hello?" Linda's voice.

"Hey, babe. Has douche bag caved in yet?"

"Marc, don't call my husband names."

"Whatever, did he agree yet? I haven't had any of that prime pussy of yours since prom night."

"Why do you have to be so crude?"

"Well, get it done or I'll have to find another babe to fill my dance card." Click.

Mind-blowing. Two phone calls had torn apart the solid base of my marriage.

I cupped my head in my hands and rubbed my wet eyes.

Why couldn't she talk to me? That damn cunt Jane. Elly, that's Eric's wife, is hot and I have stared at her around their backyard pool. Elly has a twin sister?

Two more calls left.

File #3

"Hello?"

"Linda. This is Dee. Is he home yet?"

"No, usually 5:30. I'm cooking dinner now."

"Are you going to talk tonight?"

"I'll try, we're barely talking at all."

"Well, suck his dick."

"We haven't had sex but once this year."

"You need..."

"He's home."

"And?"

"Walked past me to go into his office. I don't know Dee. Why did I let you talk me into this?"

"Quit the crying. You deserve this. We, women, deserve a little strange after putting up with our husbands all these years."

"I have to finish dinner. Bye." That was quick.

File #4.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sis, Dee called me, said you needed some support."

"Hi, Tracy. How are you?"

"So, so. I had a college football player last night, rode him like I stole him, and then hung him up wet. Boy was good for half an hour and then he couldn't get it up. They don't make them like they used to. You remember Art, my first husband?"