February Sucks--The Hermits Take

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Another unhappy ending
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FEBRUARY SUCKS

SWMO HERMIT's ENDING

Copyright© 2024 by J Maness Writing as SWMOHERMIT

I withstood my desire to join the other authors who have added their endings to George Anderson's all-time classic story for years, but today, much to my chagrin, I have succumbed to the muse's pull and jumped on the bandwagon. I hope I have not strayed too far from the intent of Mr.. Anderson when he published his masterpiece. I do not know how many times in my life I've heard someone, usually a man, I admit, say those same words that inspired George. A variation of "I'd fuck him/her in front of my husband/wife in a New York minute, whatever that is. So, here, without further ado, is my take. I don't know what to call this one. It isn't a BTB and certainly isn't RAAC. Other than a bit of retribution, the ending is nearly a real-life one. As most authors have done, I open with a short take (in italics) from Mr. Anderson's tale:

"Jim, Linda loves you. She loves you and the children more than anything else in the world, and she always will, and you know it. But she is spending tonight with Marc."

I stood there with my mouth open, looking stupid as my world ended. Pictures whirled madly through my mind, or what was left of it. Linda at the top of the stairs in her beautiful blue dress. Linda at dinner; Linda at the club; Linda as we fed wings to each other. Linda in Asshole's arms. My anger rose.

"So on what was supposed to be our special night, she left me for some asshole jock." I glared at Dee as I growled the words.

"Jim, she hasn't left you. She'll come home to you tomorrow, and you'll have plenty of other special nights together."

"She didn't even have the guts to tell me to my face that she was leaving me. She just snuck out the back door."

"Jim, listen to me. She hasn't left you..."

"Well, if she hasn't left me, then where the hell is she? She sure isn't with me now, is she?" I was getting loud, and didn't care who heard me.

"Please settle down, people are looking at you. Listen, I know this hurts for you, but it's just tonight. Linda knows, we all know, that you're the only man for her and you always will be. You're the good guy."

"Yeah, and we all know where the good guy finishes, don't we?"

"Jim, it isn't like that. You're making way too big a deal out of this. It's only tonight, then she'll come back to you tomorrow and everything will be just like it was before." I snorted at her. If she really believed that shit, nothing I could say would make any difference anyway.

"So, Friend, what was your role in all this? You didn't really need to go to the restroom, did you? My wife gave you the signal, right? She told you to stall me and keep me out of the way long enough for her and Asshole to make their getaway?"

"Yes, she asked me to do that, because she didn't want you to embarrass yourself by making a scene while Marc was here. She also asked me to make sure you remembered that she loves you, and she will always come home to you."

Yeah, I'd remember exactly how much she loved me tonight, for a long time to come. "More like she didn't want me to embarrass her as she walked away from her husband to spend the night with an asshole jock. I don't suppose it occurred to you, Friend, to remind her that she had a husband and a marriage, and she might lose them over this?"

Dee looked me in the eye. "No, it didn't, because I know she won't lose you over this. You're too good a man to let that happen. I told her how lucky she is. She's lucky because the man that every woman in the room wanted, wanted her; but she's even luckier that she has a husband who loves her enough to get past his hurt feelings and not make this a bigger deal than it should be. You know she'll be willing to do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, to make it up to you."

"What if it isn't possible to make it up to me? What if there is no way to make this right?"

"Jim, I know how much you love Linda, and how much she loves you. This doesn't have to be a big deal. It's just one night, a one-time experience, compared to all the years and all the love you two have together. It isn't a big deal, unless you make it one. I know she'll come home to you, and I know eventually, you'll be fine." Dee spoke gently but confidently. It was all I could do not to grab the stupid woman and shake her until her teeth rattled for spouting such nonsense. She must be living in some sort of alternate universe if that's what she really thought.

"So if Asshole had picked you, as you wanted him to, you'd have done the same thing?"

"I would." She flung her answer into my face.

"Does Dave know that?"

"No, and he doesn't need to, because I don't think it will ever happen," she said softly.

"Maybe I should tell him."

"Jim, please don't. Don't think that way. I know you're hurting, but that won't help. Please come back to the table. Let us take your mind off it for a while. You haven't danced a single dance with me all night, you know." She smiled invitingly at me.

"I wanted to dance with my wife, but thanks to you and her and Asshole, that doesn't seem to be an option, now does it?" I turned my back on Dee and stalked back to our table.

The talk at the table stopped abruptly when I appeared. The averted eyes told the tale: all of our friends now knew that my wife and Asshole were at that very moment making a cuckold of me.

"Uh, Jim, are you going to be okay?" Dave asked hesitantly after he seated Dee. I wanted to tell him what Dee had said and ask if he would be okay, but I couldn't force the words past my throat. I guess I hadn't gotten over being the good guy yet. I would have to work on that.

"It depends on what you mean by okay." There were a couple of nervous giggles.

"I mean, yeah, that was a shitty thing to do, but you two are going to make it, aren't you? You're not going to divorce Linda over this, are you?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't," I responded coldly. There was a gasp around the table.

"Why are you all acting surprised?" I continued. "We all know how we feel about cheating: once and done. We established that long ago."

"But Jim, it's Marc LaValliere..." Dee interposed.

"So what? I don't care who's fucking her. If it isn't me, that's that."

"Jim, what about your kids? We all know how much you love them, and how much they need you. Think of them before you do anything." Jane's kids were about the same age as mine and were best buds.

"You mean, like my wife is thinking about them right now?"

"Well, that's why you got a sitter, so you wouldn't have to think about your kids." I think Dee meant it to be funny. It fell as flat as it deserved to. "Come on, Jim, it's just one night. It's an opportunity she'll never have again. You wouldn't divorce Linda over one night."

"Why not?" I glared at her. An uncomfortable silence followed.

*****

As long as it had been since Linda left, I was sure she was gone, but I went through the motions of checking in hopes I could stop the train wreck. As angry as I was, it was probably too late to save my marriage, but I still felt I needed to prevent Linda from going with him. I headed toward the restrooms, moving quickly, weaving between the tables and milling people. I left quite a disruption in my wake. I was none too careful in my passage and ran into several of the milling crowd, causing stumbles and sloshed drinks in my path.

Two of the man mountains sitting at the asshole's table met me at the hallway entrance and pushed me deeper into the dimly lit passage. When we were mostly out of sight, one of them slammed me against the wall and said, "That's far enough asshole. You're already too late to catch Marc and your bitch, but none of us need a ruckus, now do we? I want you to take your hurt feelings back to your table and leave this alone. Get me?"

I tried my hardest to escape the asshole, but his body mass and muscles were probably twice mine, and I couldn't even budge his arm when I tried to. I tried to kick his nuts, and he twisted to block the kick, then landed a punch to my stomach and then dropped me to the floor. While I was lying there, he said, "When you can breathe again, shithead, get your ass out of here. If you cause any trouble, that will seem like a love tap from your bitch."

I pushed myself to a sitting position and watched the laughing duo leave me. After a few moments, I pushed myself up and staggered back to my table. When our supposed friends saw me approaching slowly and bent forward, Dee smirked and said, "What hit you, Jim?"

I glared at the table and said, "Some of the asshole's friends tried to convince me to let this insult go." I picked up Linda's purse, opened it and took out her keys, credit cards, and money before I tossed it on the table.

Again, Dee spoke, "Jim, what are you doing? Why are you taking Linda's credit cards and keys? Just take her purse if you're leaving."

"Fuck you," I snarled before I turned and headed for the front door.

Two of the guys stood and tried to intercept me, but at least I was near enough their size to knock them out of my way and continue toward my destination. One of the bouncers got between us and asked, "Is there a problem here?"

"You know there is. These two assholes are trying to keep me from leaving. I'm sure the three of you are large enough together to do that, but do you want to handle the problems that will descend on this place if you do? Keep them off me, and I'll be gone without further disruption."

The bouncer moved slightly to allow me to continue while he held my ex-friends back.

I stumbled into the hotel, and the desk clerk looked worried when she saw me. She asked, "Sir, are you ok?"

Still angry and hurting, I wasn't very polite or diplomatic in answering. I snarled, "NO, I'm not ok. My wife took off to spend the night with that asshole Marc LaValliere," I didn't hardly slow down passing through the lobby. Thankfully, the elevator was open and waiting on a guest when I arrived in front of it. I stepped inside and banged on the button for our floor, hard enough to hurt my thumb.

After entering our room, I stopped and looked around, trying to decide what to do next. I didn't want to stay here, but I didn't want to return to our empty house either. Fuck, why did that bitch do this? It was still early, barely eleven p.m., so I turned around and went to the bar.

I found a secluded booth and ordered my favorite drink. When the waitress set it on the table, I chugged it and asked for another before she left. She looked me over carefully before saying, "Yes, Sir. Do you want to run a tab or..."

"Charge them to my room, please. Room 437," I said as I handed her the card I was given when we checked in.

"Yes, Sir," she said when she took the card. Several minutes later, she returned with my new drink and card, placing them both on the table. I sipped the new drink while I thought about my dilemma. I was seething, so angry my teeth continually clenched and were beginning to ache. All I knew for sure at this point was I wanted to make all those assholes pay, and I wanted to keep my kids.

The need for revenge was easy to say but almost impossible to accomplish. I wasn't a crazed killer and had never been a Ranger, Green Beret, or a Seal. All I was, was an ex-sailor who honorably served his country and then returned home, found, and married the love of his life, the bitch that publicly humiliated him and cut his heart out when she blatantly cheated on him with some damn asshole jock. We average working schmuks didn't stand a chance when one of the rich guys or jocks decided they wanted our women.

I don't know how many hare-brained ideas flitted through my mind and were discarded while I sat there drinking. As it got closer to closing time, I noticed that the waitress took longer to check on me and refill my drink when I ordered a new one. She was probably trying to limit me that way because the bar wasn't very busy. I was beginning to get pissed at her because of that and found myself getting short with her when she did return to my booth. I forced myself to cool it with her, and after she brought my last drink, I knocked it back, signed my tab, and left a 30% tip. When I handed the tab back to her, I said, "Sue (That was her name), I'm sorry I've been such an ass tonight. I was here with my wife, and she deserted me at Morrison's to spend the night with that Laviellere asshole. I shouldn't have done it, but I'm afraid I took some of my anger out on you. Please forgive me."

Sue looked shocked and placed her left hand on my forearm while she took the tab with her right. She looked into my eyes and said, "I'm so sorry, sir. Apology accepted. Please, be careful, and don't do anything stupid."

I returned to my room, dropped my clothes wherever they landed and crawled into bed naked like I usually sleep. I didn't know anything else until the maid opening the door to clean the room the next morning awakened me. I apologized and dressed as quickly as I could. She was still in the hallway when I left the room and entered it behind me. The elevator hadn't arrived when the maid rushed from the room carrying Linda's things. She said, Sir, you forgot some of your luggage!"

"No, I didn't," I said. "Those belong to the bitch I was going to spend the night with. She took off on me, and I certainly don't want or need them. You can have them or throw them away, whatever you want."

My head was killing me, and I had a bad case of cottonmouth. I checked out, and thankfully, they didn't charge me for being a few minutes late. From there, I entered the restaurant and stuffed myself on their brunch buffet. While eating, I thought about my problem more, trying to devise a plan. I had to get even and make all those assholes pay. Marc, Linda, and Dee were at the top of the list, but I planned a little pain for the others, too.

I was in and out of my house in less than a half hour. I started for my parent's house but stopped to pick up the kids on the way. After getting them into the car, instead of heading toward home, I turned the other way. Emma asked, "Where are we going, Daddy?"

"I have some errands to run, honey, so you'll spend the afternoon with Grandma and Grandpa."

"Oh, where's Mom," she asked. "Why can't we go home and stay with her?"

Well, crap, I thought. It's starting way too soon. "Honey, I don't know where your mother is. She left the club last night with another man, and I've not seen or heard from her since."

"Oh, Daddy, she did not. Mom wouldn't do something like that. She told us it's not right to run away."

"Well, she did. Now, I don't want to talk about it. We're here. Let's go inside and see your grandparents."

After we got in the house, Mom asked the same question, "Where's Linda?"

I sighed and said, "Kids, why don't you go outside and play with Buster (their dog) while I talk to your grandparents? After they left, I raised my voice and said, "Dad, come to the kitchen, please. I need to talk to you and Mom."

I gave them a detailed description of my night, excluding my drinking in the hotel. Dad became angry, and Mom was shocked but loyal to Linda, who she thought of as a daughter. She said, "Jim, you surely don't believe what you just told us. I know Linda wouldn't do anything like that. What really happened? Did you do something to make her angry or what?"

Mom's defense of Linda pissed me off again, and I jumped from my chair. "I told you what happened, Mom. Now, please watch the kids for a while. I need to go see LW."

While I was walking out, Mom followed me and stood at the door. Before I got into the car, she said, "Now, Jim. Don't do anything you'll regret. I know Linda wouldn't do anything wrong. Why don't you go home and apologize, maybe take her out for supper or something." I glared at her before I drove away. I couldn't believe the crap Mom was spouting. I wondered if she believed it or was so shocked that she didn't realize what she was saying.

When I got to LW's, he was gone. I sat in my car until dusk, and he never came home, so I reluctantly picked up the kids and took them home. When we entered the house from the garage, Linda came rushing toward us and said, "Jim, where have you been? I was worried about you."

The kids rushed to her and told her about their day at Gramma's, but I didn't say a thing. I entered my office, locked the door, and turned on the computer. Linda came to the door several times and tried to get in. Each time, I got a variation of "Honey, we need to talk," which I ignored. It looked like, from my research, I would be hosed when I filed for divorce. At least Linda and I made about the same salary, so I probably wouldn't have to pay maintenance for her, just child support and the damn household expenses and mortgage.

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were rough at work because I couldn't concentrate on the job and at home because of Linda. Whenever she got the kids away from us watching TV or after they got in bed, she tried to talk about the weekend and her betrayal. On Wednesday night, she cornered me in the kitchen after the kids were in bed and said, "Jim, stop pouting. I love you. I came back just like I promised. I'm the same old me, just like I always was. You have to get over your snit. We have to talk this out sometime. Why can't you relax and go with the flow? I told you I'm not leaving you. Marc was a golden opportunity I had to take."

"Right," I said. "And I suppose you want me to believe you didn't fuck the asshole and wouldn't again if he came around."

Linda couldn't look me in the eyes but answered, "You know I fucked him, as you so crudely put it, but I love you. I'm married to you, and that's what counts, not a one-night hiccup. It didn't cost you a thing, and I have a wonderful memory to look back on for the rest of my life."

"Fuck You," I snarled as I brushed past her. When I turned the corner out of the kitchen, I saw her bent forward, silently crying. That was when I became sure the marriage was over. I didn't feel anything except pleasure that she was hurting.

At work Thursday, I called LW, and he said he was in his office now. When I asked if I could visit for a while, he said sure, so I headed to his office after work. We sat and chatted briefly before he said, "OK, Jim. You know I enjoy seeing you, but you usually don't come to see me to chat. You look like you have something on your mind. Spill."

"Yeah, you're right," I said. I gave LW as detailed a description of my imploding marriage as I could and asked him if he'd handle my divorce.

LW sat looking over my shoulder at a picture of his mantle and a crackling fire in the fireplace underneath. He put his elbows on his chair arms and steepled his fingers before replying, "I can do that if you're sure you want to, but you need to know that no one wins in a divorce. Not the husband, wife, and especially not the children. I sometimes wonder if even the attorneys win. At least they make money but at what cost to their souls?"

We discussed options and planned as much as possible, and then LW and I adjourned to his club for supper and some drinks. Linda was sleeping when I got home, and I didn't wake her; I just left her on the couch and went to bed in the guest room where I'd been staying.

The following morning, I was making a coffee and microwaving a breakfast sandwich when Linda came into the kitchen in the same clothes she wore the day before. She looked at me sadly and said, "Where were you last night, Jim? I was worried, and you never called. I love you and want to do anything I can to help you get over your problem."

"MY PROBLEM," I yelled, then realized it was my problem, just not in the way she meant.

"You can't, and you know that," I said. "Can you go back in time and not dance with the asshole? Can you unfuck him? No, you can't, and that's the only way to make this right. What you could do to help would be to disappear, get out of my and the kid's lives." Fucking bitch left crying, and, yes, I felt terrible, but I felt good, too. I hated myself for lashing out like I did, but the hurt was so bad I needed to make her hurt, too.

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