I Never Should Have Taught Her Pt. 02

I Never Should Have Taught Her, pt. 02

Some time back I wrote a story called I Never Should Have Taught Her. I thought it was cute, but some commenters thought I was advocating violence. Well, you can't please everyone.

I had an idea for a very small story, or maybe just a scene in a story, that would never amount to anything and then I thought, "That could be a sequel to the earlier story." So, having learned nothing from the first experience, I'm giving it a second try. Don't be offended. It's just a story.

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Do you ever wonder what makes people the way they are? I mean, we all have our own unique personalities, our likes and dislikes, and those differences make life interesting. Our sense of humor may not be the same. We dress differently, we dance differently, and we eat different food, but most of us are more alike than we are different. We have the same wants and needs, we have similar goals for our lives, and we feel the same pain when you offend us. Then you meet the ones who are something else entirely, the ones who need to feel superior. My wife's boss was one of those.

I came home from work on a Friday, dead tired from a long week, and found my lovely wife, Elizabeth, sitting at the kitchen table with tears streaming down her cheeks. All thoughts of the long day and hard week vanished as I kneeled beside my bride.

We'd been married for six years at that point. Our son, Henry, was a year old and Beth had gone back to work. We wanted to get Henry to the point where he could feed himself, climb into his own child seat, and be a helpful big brother before we thought about a second child.

Now, there is something you need to know about Elizabeth back in those days. From the day I met her, she had an open heart and an innocent, loving way. It's what first drew me to her. She wanted to enjoy everyone she met, and she nurtured others at every opportunity. However, she had a weakness that was very much a part of that open heart: she had a streak of insecurity. She always looked for the best in others, but at the same time it would set her back if others did not find the best in her. She could take direction and complaints when it came with humor and respect, but she was vulnerable to severe criticism. Don't get me wrong; she was a momma bear when it came to Henry, but a bit too insecure when it came to herself. In the years we've been married, she's gotten better and more secure in herself, but there remains that little nugget of self-doubt.

Money was a bit tight back then, but not a daily struggle, and we never lived for money. Beth had changed jobs shortly after returning to work. She wanted to cut back on her hours to spend more time with Henry, but her previous employer wouldn't allow it. I thought that working part time was a great idea. Beth would make some money and feel some independence, plus she got to spend time with other adults, so I figured it was the best of all worlds.

It wasn't long before she started telling me that she was getting odd vibes from some of the women in the office. It seemed that no one enjoyed working there and that was especially true of the women. No one would speak about it, but something wasn't right. She'd been back at work for about six months when I found her sitting at the table in tears.

"Babe, what's the matter? What happened?"

She just shook her head and between the sobs she said, "I don't want to talk about it."

Now, any man who's been married for any amount of time knows that you don't walk away just because your wife says, "I don't want to talk about it." It either means "I'm mad at you!" or "Be patient. I need to talk about it." I didn't think I'd done anything wrong and neither of us are big drinkers, so I just stood, fixed two glasses of iced tea, squeezed some lemon slices into each, and sat back down next to my wife. She took some sips and slowly got herself under control, somewhat.

"It was terrible. I've never been so humiliated or felt so dirty in all my life!"

"Geez, Beth, what happened?! Just tell me. Whatever it is, we can deal with it."

"I got called into Frank's office today as the rest of the staff was leaving for lunch."

Frank is her new boss. I've only met him once, but if ever a man was condescendingly misogynistic, Frank was it. I was trying to thank him, telling him that Beth working part time was great for us, and he made a crack about "I just hope she appreciates it." What a jackass! That comment has stuck in my craw ever since. I knew that sooner or later Frank was going to be a problem, but I never suspected what kind.

Beth was taking short, sharp breaths in between her words. "He called me in... and when I went to sit... he told me to remain standing. Right away I felt very uncomfortable. He was looking at me like he wanted to yell at me... but there was something more. He was just staring at me... and I started to get the creeps."

I was getting angry just listening to her story, but I tried not to let it show. If it did, she would start worrying about me and what I might do, and then she'd hold back, and before you know it, she'd shut down and I'd be no help to her at all. So, I just held her hand and listened.

"He's staring at me and he says in this very high-handed voice, 'The spread sheet you build for the Jenkins account is full of mistakes. If I'd let it get by, you'd be fired, and I'd be answering questions to the head office.' I didn't know what to say. You know I don't make mistakes often and I always catch them. I proofed that sheet several times, ran sums horizontal and vertical, and it all checked out."

She was shaking her head and I knew she was too upset for this to be the whole story. As I watched, I could see it written on her face: her pain was turning to anger.

"He told me to close the door, so I did. Then he told me, 'You girls just don't take this job seriously, do you?' I swear, my own father never spoke to me that way! He says, 'I try to treat you like professionals, but you just act like a bunch of silly little girls.' You know I take my job very seriously. I thought he knew that, too."

"Beth, I know his type. He's an arrogant, misogynistic ass. You can't let him get to you."

She fought to get control of herself and then she told me what was really going on. "He said, 'If you are going to behave like a little girl, I'll just have to treat you like a little girl. Bend over the desk!'"

"What?!"

"That's what he said. I said, 'No, I'll do no such thing.' Then he says, 'Little girls who can't behave need to be spanked. Now bend over!' Well, I said, 'I will not!' and I stormed out of his office. I got halfway back to my desk and he shouts across the room at me, 'Elizabeth, you get back here this instant!'"

She's shaking and I'm beginning to count all the ways I can kill the SOB. This isn't sexism, it's perversion. That son-of-a-bitch was getting a sexual high off the idea of spanking my wife!

"You remember what you taught me about self-defense?"

Needless to say, I did.

"You taught me how to make a fist and how to throw a punch. Then you taught me that if I was going to hit a man, I should smile at him first, so he doesn't see it coming. You remember that?"

"Yes."

"Then I signed up for that self-defense course in the community center where they taught me how to use my feet and my knees?"

"I remember."

"Do you remember when we saw Patti LaBelle? When she was ready to let it all go, she kicked off her shoes and they went flying across the stage?"

Okay, now I was confused. "Yes."

"Well, I walked back over to him, smiling, looking just as confident as I could. I kicked off my shoes in the best Patti LaBelle imitation I could muster and when I got right up in front of him, I put my hands on his shoulders, and I gave him the biggest smile I could. Then just as he smiled back at me and thought he'd won, I pulled his shoulders toward me, channeled all my anger, and drove my right knee up and buried it in his junk until I heard the thud. I put my arms and back into it like they taught me, and I drove my knee into him so hard that he folded with that sick, stunned look on his smarmy face."

Yes, thank you, God! I wanted to pick my wife up in my arms and kiss her, but she was still too upset for that. I thought, "This is the wife I knew I married!"

"I've never done anything like that before, not for real! I stumbled back, and he fell to his knees. Then he looked up at me with this look of shock and outrage on his face and I thought, 'How dare you even look at me!' I've never been so angry. I turned and drove the blade of my left foot into his nose and felt it go 'Snap!' His head jerked back and hit the wall, and then he crumbled face down on the floor."

Now it was impossible for me not to laugh. I wanted to celebrate! My wife had stood up for herself and put that slimy bastard in his place. I was so proud of her I wanted to burst.

"It's not funny. I think I lost my job."

"I love you! I really do."

"What am I going to do?"

I hesitated to think for just a moment. "That's easy. You are going to go wash your face, put on some comfortable clothes, and we're going out to celebrate."

"We can't afford it if I lost my job."

"Oh, you lost your job alright, but we can afford it."

She started to calm down. "Really? Where are we going?"

"Well, there's that seafood place you like that looks out over the harbor, or the Italian place downtown you like, or the Thai pla..gha..umf.. Sweety, you're choking me!" She had thrown herself at me and wrapped her arms around my neck. She was still crying as she kissed me and snuggled under my ear.

"I love you so much!"

"I love you too, Elizabeth." I couldn't help but chuckle as I said it; but it's true, I really do!

"Are you sure we can afford it?"

Quietly now, I said, "Yes, I'm sure. Now stop worrying and let's go out and have some fun."

She kissed me again and ran down the hall to change and pull herself together, while I got on the phone.

"How's my favorite mother-in-law tonight?" In my mind's eye, I could see her smile.

"Smartass! I'm your only mother-in-law." She was laughing now.

"Would you mind if we brought your grandson over to spend the night? I want to take your daughter out to dinner."

"You are a manipulative young man; I'll give you that. Still, for my daughter and grandson, I guess we can do it."

She was playing along. Only my mother-in-law could raise such a loving and innocent woman as my wife.

"What's the occasion?"

"Beth had a bad day at work, and she needs a night out."

"In that case, we can keep Henry all weekend if it helps."

"Thanks, but I think one night will do."

"You taking her dancing?"

"I'm taking her any place she wants to go that doesn't require her to get too dressed up. Tonight is all about comfort and fun."

"Okay, swing past on your way. We'll feed Henry and put him to bed."

"Thanks, mom."

Then, almost as an afterthought, I placed my second call to a college buddy of mine who went into the law. "Jimmy! How's my favorite shyster?"

I heard him chuckle before he answered me. "Why are you calling, Davis, not that I don't like hearing from you? I'm just putting some steaks on the grill."

"Jimmy, just between us, suppose Beth's boss tried to bend her over his desk and spank her today?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Suppose she responded by drop kicking the asshole?"

"God, I love that wife of yours!"

"Can he come after her?"

"Are there witnesses?"

"No."

"Do you think she's his first victim?"

"I don't know, but I met the asshole once and I'll bet she's not."

"Davis, I'm salivating and not because of the steaks! How about I stop over tomorrow, and we talk? We can depose the whole office. If he's done this before, we'll have a class action suit. Hell, we'll own his company and have his balls on a key chain before we're done."

"It's not his company, Jimmy. They have small shops around the country and he's just the manager of the local shop."

"Even better. The higher ups will want to distance themselves from even the slightest whiff of this. He'll be fired and we'll get a big, fat check."

"Sounds good to me, Jimmy. We'll see you tomorrow."

I hung up and thought that maybe I should freshen up, too, before we go out. I wanted to look good for Elizabeth, or at least as good as I could. I don't have much to work with, but I thought I should do my best. I wanted Elizabeth to be as proud of me as I am of her.

We went to her favorite Italian place and then I took my lovely wife dancing. We've been eastern city folks all our lives, but we can still do a passable Cowboy Cha Cha and a little East Coast Swing, so we kicked up our heals until we were exhausted and headed for home. To no one's surprise, or at least not mine, there was a police car sitting in front of the house when we got there. We invited the officers in, and Beth gave her statement. Frank was pressing charges and claiming that Beth just went nuts when he criticized her work, but the officers had interviewed everyone in the office. The women gave a very different view of Frank's behavior in the past and even the men admitted they had heard stories. When Beth got to the part where she broke his nose, the younger officer, a woman as it turns out, couldn't suppress her smile. As they left, I asked if we could get copies of the other statements and we were assured that our lawyer would know how to do it. Frank's career was about to take a turn for the worse.

So the evening started out badly, but it ended well. My wife was feeling better. The police believed her, and it seemed we might have evidence to use against the pervert. We had danced the evening away, and, somehow, I had managed not to step on my lovely wife's feet even once. Our son was with his grandparents, and we had the house and the night to ourselves. Now I may not be the sharpest blade in the drawer, but even I knew what to do next, so I applied myself to my husbandly duties with dedication, patience, and an attention to detail until my lovely Elizabeth was exhausted and peacefully asleep beside me.

There's a lesson in this for those fellows who think that a shy person, especially a woman, can be pushed around: still waters run deep. There are plenty of folks who can navigate the complex, sometimes disturbing, waters of personal and professional relationships, adjusting calmly to each changing circumstance, but there are some of us who are never quite sure that people value us in the same way they value others. We try every day just to get along and do the right thing, and we know our worth, but we never really believe that others see us as we deserve. When you push us too far, when you attack our self-respect, you throw a switch in us and then there's nothing moderate about us. The self-important are always surprised when the quiet ones stand up for themselves.

Did I say I never should have taught her? It's the best thing I ever did. I am so damn proud of her!

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I should probably tell you that there are two grains of biographical truth to this story. It was a friend of mine who taught my fiancé the proper way to throw a punch, but she's never used it except to do her best Jackie Gleason imitation when she wasn't entirely happy with me. And my mother-in-law never called me "smartass". That's my mother's loving nickname for my wife.

Thank you for reading my little story. I know it's just a silly little thing, but it's intended to be a celebration of wives who love their husbands and respect themselves.