Found Money

One Friday she came home and told me that she had to go to Chicago for two days the following week.

I asked her about the trip and she said it was a meeting with a potential new client that McClatchy was trying to solicit. I asked her who was all going and she was vague, but stated several people including Harrison.

I knew this part of her job would emerge and I also knew I'd have to get used to it. But at the moment I didn't like the thought of her in a different city, overnight. With Harrison nearby.

The first night she was in Chicago we did speak on the phone, but briefly. That night I woke with the strangest image in the middle of the night. It wasn't a dream but more like the flash of a picture fresh to memory in my brain.

In the image Harrison Locke was on top of Melanie, fucking her. I saw her thighs accepting him, I saw his plunging movement and her rising to meet him. I saw the muscular leanness of his thighs and ass. And I saw the writhing passion in Melanie's face as she accepted his cock.

No, I did not have a raging hard-on with these thoughts. I was disturbed. It just felt so real. Eventually I fell back asleep but unlike other dreams I've had where the image fades, this one stayed vivid.

Once she was back the last thing I was going to do was tell her about the dream, but I did note something seemed off. It was rare we did much together anymore and she was gone all the time.

One night I scheduled a date night and we had dinner at La Provence, a nice French restaurant downtown. I planned the evening, dress nicely and was groomed for the night.

Melanie was pleasant but part of the time she was looking at things on her phone, distracted. When I tried to have any type of a serious discussion about our relationship it went nowhere.

After a nice dinner like this, sex is the natural progression of the evening. And we did have sex, but there was little passion on Melanie's part despite extensive foreplay on my end. It felt like she was doing me a favor.

Over the next few weeks she was home less and less. The evenings out were frequent and it was often after ten PM when she would return.

One night Isaac and I planned on going out to a bar near the old office that we liked. I met him there and we talked about work mostly, but a little about our lives.

"I need to find a girlfriend." Isaac stated. "You're lucky, married to a hot woman like Melanie." He added.

I stared off into space thinking about what Isaac had said. Was I lucky? And what Melanie and I were doing was hardly a normal married life. I barely saw her. Sex was infrequent.

"JD!?" He said, "you zoned out there for a moment. Is everything all right?" He asked.

"Yeah, it's okay I guess." I said. "Just going through a rough patch with Melanie I guess." I added.

"What's going on?" He asked.

And I gave him the whole rundown, all the details. That is all the details except anything about the money. That I dared not mention.

Isaac was a good friend and he listened and encouraged me. I appreciated it.

At home when I wasn't working I continued to work around the house. The French doors were in and the deck was almost done. It looked really good. This work for me was therapeutic. It helped balance out the challenges in my marriage.

A week or so after my drink with Isaac he called me.

"JD," He said. "Can you meet me at Laurelwood in Pioneer Square?" He asked.

When I asked what was up, he just said I needed to be there.

Isaac was waiting outside when I got there.

Isaac told me he had a date from Match and they had met at Laurelwood. The date went nowhere, she was approximately eighty pounds heavier than her Match photo showed, he explained.

Isaac told me he noticed a large group that showed up at the bar. Melanie was part of the group, and she was hanging all over some tall good looking dude. They were still there. They were so involved Melanie didn't even notice Isaac.

Normally I'm not confrontational by nature, but all the marital stress I was under had me on edge. And to hear that Melanie was 'hanging all over some dude', had me pissed.

We walked in. I saw them immediately. It was like a scene from that ridiculous show 'The Bachelor'. All the women beautiful, tan, and sexy. All the guys, buff, two days growth of beards and shiny white teeth. The new Melanie fit right in.

And Isaac was right, Locke had his arm around Melanie and she was tucked right into his side. They looked like a couple.

I walked up to their table, no one even noticed me until I spoke.

"Hi Melanie." I said, maybe a decibel or two louder that normal.

She saw me and was silent for a brief second. She moved away from Locke, but he kept his arm around her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. Her expression far from welcoming.

"Isaac and I decided to get a drink," I said. "And this seems like a nice place. How's the food?" I asked, glancing around at the others in their group for their opinion. My voice slightly louder than it needed to be.

Their entire fun loving party seemed to have sobered up. No one spoke.

Finally Locke spoke. "Melanie." Was all he said. But the meaning was clear. Take care of this.... interruption.

She grabbed my arm and pulled me away from their group.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. "We are in the middle of a client meeting. This is important!" She added with emphasis.

"You and good old Harrison seem awfully chummy," I replied.

"Oh get over it," she replied in an urgent whisper. "Now, I'll be home later, we need to finish up." And with that, she went back to the group.

Isaac and I left. As I was driving home the words from an old ELO song began running through my head. 'You want to stay out with your fancy friends I'm telling you it's gotta be the end,'

I couldn't get the song out of my head.That seemed to be the perfect way to sum up what we had observed tonight. Melanie was now part of the in-crowd. She acted like I was embarrassing her by showing up. Well fuck her, I thought. She was supposed to be my wife.

This lead to several days of marital silence where we never actually discussed the events at Laurelwood.

She would come home later and later. I was now almost always in bed by the time she got home. She was barely living at our house anymore. And needless to say, there was no sex.

A week or so later my cousin Mike Fairchild invited me out for a drink at The Norsemen, Thursday night. That morning, unusually, Melanie and I had breakfast together. I told her I was getting a beer that night with Mike. She noted this but didn't seem to care.

Mike and I talked about sports, family, my job, his job until finally he asked me what was going on. He could tell I wasn't quite myself.

"It's Melanie." I told him. "She's got a new position at work and she's spending a lot of time with her boss, who by the way is handsome, confident and successful." I added.

Mike had never been a real Melanie fan, I knew that, but to his credit there was nothing even remotely like 'I told you so' in his comments.

After our second beer Mike said he had an early day, I told him I would finish my beer and head out shortly. I guess I just wasn't in any type of hurry to get home.

As I sat and thought about my situation I had a third beer, for some reason they were going down easy tonight. After my fourth I called an Uber. It showed 20 minutes till pickup, so uncharacteristically I had one more.

The Uber pulled up and I kind of chugged the remaining third of the beer. I wasn't drunk, but I was definitely buzzed. My plan was to walk the couple of miles back to The Norsemen to pick up my car in the morning.

I was a little surprised to see Melanie's car at our home, it wasn't even nine PM. I also saw a black Range Rover parked directly in front of my house at the curb.

What I was more surprised to see was Harrison Locke in my living room.

Suddenly, and it was probably fueled by the alcohol, I was pissed. It was one thing for Melanie and Locke to be together all day and evening working ostensibly. It was quite another thing to have him sitting in my living room.

I think I surprised them.

"JD, I thought you were going to be out tonight," Melanie said standing up quickly.

Locke stood up and offered me his hand to shake I ignored him and stared at Melanie.

"What the fuck's he doing here in my house?" I pointed my thumb towards Locke and asked.

"JD, don't be an ass." She said. "Harrison is my boss and a friend. We were just discussing some business." She added.

At that point I was not only angry, I was half drunk. And they could probably figure that out by the way I was walking and talking. I moved to get past them and to my office. I knew in the mood I was in it would best to be in a different room, I just wanted to be alone.

I'm sure there was a bit of a stagger as I headed to my office.

Harrison, nobly, trying to steady me, reached for my arm. In my anger I shrugged his arm away and he stumbled to one knee.

For the moment I was kind of proud I knocked the big man down. And then Melanie reached for me.

"JD," she cried.

I didn't want her anywhere near me either at this point. I shrugged my left arm catching Melanie off balance. I suppose I was a little too emphatic shrugging Melanie off. She was probably surprised by my actions too. I didn't normally act this aggressively.

But the combination of my emphatic shrug, her surprise and her being off balance, sent her flying back. Her head caught the corner of the side table. She fell, stunned.

I was surprised at first, frozen, and then I moved to go to her, to comfort her. I had never approached Melanie aggressively before. Or any other woman for that matter. That wasn't my nature, but the beer and the emotion created a perfect storm. Her forehead was now bleeding.

As I tried to get to her, half drunk and off balance, two large muscular arms bear hugged me from behind. I was pinned.

"Call 911," Locke told Melanie.

"Hang on," I slurred. "Let me get her some ice. We can work this out." I told them both.

Melanie stumbled to the kitchen, phone in hand, blood now on her face. I struggled to get loose from Locke but he was far too strong.

I continued to plead with him to let me help her but he remained silent with steady pressure pinning me immobile.

Within, what seemed like minutes the cops and an ambulance showed up. This was ridiculous. They were making a mountain out of a molehill.

Melanie, a reddening towel to her forehead, answered the door. The next thing I knew my hands were handcuffed behind my back and a policeman with hand atop my head was maneuvering me into the backseat of his police car.

I sat there wondering how I ended up in this situation. Silent tears ran down my face. I was sad and upset about my marriage and what I had done to Mel. I felt sorry for myself.

I lost track of time. It could have been ten minutes or an hour but eventually the policeman returned.

"Where am I going?" I asked the cop.

"Sir," he answered. "You are going to jail."

I hadn't thought I could feel worse than when I was sitting in the back of a police car, on my street, neighbors peeking out their windows, in front of my house, lights flashing. But now knowing I was going to jail I actually did feel worse. This was a low point in my life.

After several hours of being processed I found myself in a jail cell at the King County Correctional Facility. I was exhausted. I managed to doze off intermittently but I would jolt awake after what seemed like only a few minutes, mentally beating myself up over the situation I was now in.

In what must have been the middle of the night or maybe early in the morning. I had a visitor. My cousin, the assistant district attorney, Mike Fairchild.

"The last time I saw you," he told me through the gloom of the cell, "you looked relaxed and slightly buzzed. What happened?" He asked.

My relief at finally seeing a friendly face was too much. I broke down and wept. I then proceeded to tell Mike what happened after I left The Norsemen.

"Man JD," He said. "They take domestic violence seriously here. There is a mandatory arrest and incarceration even before anything is proven. Yours would probably be classified as a misdemeanor, but still they can order a fine of up to a thousand dollars and a year in jail." He explained.

"A year!?" I asked.

"Look, let me see what I can do." He told me. "Hang in there, I'll be back in a little bit."

Several hours later Mike was back. He somehow had facilitated my release. We went to his condo. Mike wasn't married and no specific girlfriend at the time.

"For now," he said, "you stay here, use the spare bedroom."

"But, I need to talk to Mel," I exclaimed. "I need to apologize. Maybe we can sit down and work out our problems. I need to call her." I told him.

Palms out pointed down he gave me the slow-down gesture.

"Listen JD, for now, don't try to talk to Melanie." He said. "I'm hearing she may follow through on pressing charges." He told me.

"What? No, that can't be right. She's my wife. She wouldn't do that!" I exclaimed.

"That's not all." Mike said. "I'm also hearing there may be a restraining order." He told me.

I buried my face in my hands and just shook my head from side to side. How could things get so negative so fast.

"Look JD, give me a list of things you need from your house. Clothes, laptop, toiletries etc. I'll go get your stuff and for now, you're staying here." Mike told me.

"My house!" I nearly shouted. "She can't keep me out of MY house." I said.

"Actually," Mike replied, "she can. But let's not worry about all that right now. Give me your list, I'll get your stuff, and we'll work on sorting everything else out when we get more information." Mike told me.

He left and I immediately took a shower, put back on my worn clothes from yesterday, and thought.

I was sure if I just had a few minutes to talk with Melanie we could work this all out. I know, of late our relationship had been a little rough, but, she was my wife! We had been through so much together. A minor alcohol fueled stumble wasn't the end of the world.

Mike had told me not to contact Mel, but I convinced myself a simple conversation was all it would take to get back to something more like normal.

Finally, after several hours of an internal debate I called her.

It did not go well.

I was actually slightly surprised she answered.

"Melanie, honey," I said, "I am so sorry you bumped your head. It was just an accident, all my fault. Are you okay?" I asked.

For a few seconds, there was silence, and then she answered.

"Bumped my head!?" She replied. "I had to get stitches. And an accident!? You attacked both me and Harrison." She added.

"Oh Mel," I said placatingly, "it wasn't that bad."

"Listen, I'm busy," she said. "I shouldn't be talking to you anyway." She told me.

"Mel....," I started to reply, but she had hung up.

That really didn't go well. She hadn't given me a chance to explain. I really believed that an honest and open conversation between the two of us could sort things out. Maybe at that point we could talk about some kind of counseling.

Mike stopped back by the condo with my clothes, laptop, etc.

"Did you see Mel at the house?" I asked.

He shook his head, no.

"I didn't see anyone, but there was a black Range Rover parked out front." He told me.

Fucking Locke's car. Had to be. Was it there all night? I thought harder about how close Locke and Mel's relationship was?

Twice more I tried to call Melanie that afternoon. Both times it went to voice mail. My need to talk to her, to explain, and to try to make things right again was strong. This was all such a silly blown up misunderstanding.

Mike had a date that night and I found myself alone in his condo. It wasn't late but it was dark out. I decided to just drive by my house. If it looked like Melanie was there, maybe I could just stop for a few minutes.

I had to walk to The Norsemen to get my car from last nights outing. That all seemed so long ago, my life had been turned upside down in the past 24 hours.

I drove slowly in to my neighborhood. Turning the corner I saw the light color of Melanie's car in the driveway. Good, maybe a few words will clear all this up. I was feeling vaguely optimistic for the moment. And then I saw the black Range Rover parked at the curb. Locke.

I crept past the house, shades were down, I saw nothing else. I considered another pass but the last thing I needed was some neighborhood busybody reporting a suspicious vehicle cruising the street.

Down the street was a church and I thought from the southern edge of that parking lot I would have a view of the front of my house. I parked and waited. Nothing happened, but I remained watching.

The events of the previous night, the emotion and lack of sleep caught up with me. One minute I was focused on the black SUV in front of my house, the next minute I was sound asleep.

I awoke with a jolt. I looked back down the street, black car still there. I checked my watch, one forty AM. Okay there could be a number of explanations for his car still there, but I knew the most likely one.

He was fucking my wife. The sexual image from the dream I had was still vivid in my mind. For a brief second I thought of bursting in and confronting them.

Fortunately I realized that was not the correct course of action. I drove back to Mike's.

The next morning Mike was there when I emerged from the spare bedroom.

"Where were you last night?" He asked, staring me in the eye.

"Um, I walked back to the bar to get my car," I told him.

He stared at me over the rim of his coffee cup.

"That's all?" He asked. "You're staying away from Melanie aren't you?"

I nodded that I was. He kept looking at me silently questioning my answer. A short time later he left.

I only tried Melanie twice during the day. Straight to voicemail each time. Fortunately I was able to bury myself in Microtec work throughout the day. Working was therapeutic. It helped keep my mind of my problems.

That night an idea crept into my brain. I knew where the parking garage was for McClatchy. I knew she normally got to work right at eight o'clock AM. I knew if I could just talk to her we could work things out and start on a road back to a better marriage.

The next morning I was waiting in the mezzanine opposite the elevators to her office. Eight-twenty and no sign of Melanie yet. But all of a sudden I see the angular form of Harrison Locke.

"Harrison," I say.

He turns with a practiced welcoming smile and then he realized it was me that greeted him. His open palm retracts and he stops in place, hands on hips.

"What are YOU doing here?" He asks, a half smile mockingly on his face.

"I need to talk to Melanie. The other night was a misunderstanding, an accident." I tell him.

He's slowly shaking his head back and forth negatively.

"Uh uh." He says. "That is not a good idea. My advice to you is to get a lawyer and work things through the proper channels." He adds.

I'm standing there stunned. Lawyer? Why would I need a lawyer I thought.

As I stand in the mezzanine Locke looks at me, appraising, that same half smirk on his face. He seems in no hurry to leave, enjoying my discomfort.

He shakes his head, takes a step towards the elevator and then stops and turns back to me.

"How did a guy like you," he pauses as he looks me up and down, "ever get a woman like Melanie?"

He chuckles briefly on his way to push the up button on the elevator. I just stand there drenched in my humiliation.

The answer to the question of my needing a lawyer is answered quickly that afternoon. By special delivery I was messaged an harassment restraining order. I looked at the document, stunned. Then I read through it.