If Only We'd Known

"Yeah. Must be." and with that the two techs returned to the work at hand, Malcolm's change in routine quickly fading into memory.

~N~

"Okay, Bruce, I've walked the line and from what I can see, we're looking good. We shouldn't need any major repairs. Regular maintenance should get us by until the summer. But, just in case, have the maintenance people order two more straight eight foot sections, one two-way divider, and one right sweep. I think with that, we'll be okay." said Malcolm to his partner and long time friend, Eric Bruce.

"That's good. The less we spend on repairs the more we save, and the sooner we can start modernizing the plant. It's high time we did that anyway. We'll begin next month and I've estimated it'll take a year before we've completed all the upgrades and renovations." said Eric, "We're getting more orders than we can fill with our current capacity. And it really wouldn't do any good to hire more people, since the mechanical side of it is at maximum output already." explained Eric, more to himself than to Malcolm.

"Well, you have a point, Eric, but that means we'll have to hold off going public another year, at least until we've made sure everything is working as it should."

"I understand, but we really don't have a choice. If we can't maintain our current production, and expand our capacity to at least triple our present levels, we aren't going to impress anyone. And our initial offering will float out there without enough takers. Not only do we want to create a demand but we also want the initial price as high as possible." said Eric, as he stood, walked out from behind his desk over to the small counter where a large electric coffee urn sat, and poured himself a cup. Eric liked his coffee black and had ever since he was in the military, where he learned to make do, when -at times- there hadn't been any sugar and cream available.

Malcolm, warily eyeing Eric's coffee, as if it were a cup of poison, said, "Okay, I'll leave the business end up to you, and we'll go with what you've shown me so far."

He'd known Eric since their military days and after all this time, he still hadn't gotten used to seeing him drink his coffee black. It still made him shudder. That particular like of Eric's, among some of his other peculiarities, had convinced Malcolm that Eric was just playing at being civilized. For everyone knew that coffee needed some sugar in it to make it one of the truly great things about civilization.

"Great! Well, I've got another meeting with the bank, and I've got to get the rest of the financial report done before the meeting." said Eric, already back at his desk and typing away.

"Yeah. Better you than me, old friend. I think I'm going to head off to see Jeremy Schneider at his warehouse. He might have some things we can use among all that junk he's accumulated. And he usually doesn't want our first born for his stuff, either." said Malcolm with a wave as he walked out of Eric's office. Whatever Eric might have said in return was lost in the din of the plant's machinery and other noises that were part of the plant's operation.

~N~

He'd talked to Schneider for a bit, seen what he had for sale, and then negotiated as only true southern boys could. Not just by throwing numbers back and forth, but by interlacing each of their offers and counter-offers with tale tales. It was a time consuming, often tedious, negotiation. Lesser men would have giving in half way through, settling for the last best offer, only to discover the item or items were back up to their original price, or worse, they were no longer available for sale.

Neither of the men thought anything of the time it took to haggle out a deal. That's just the way it was, and always had been. So it was just as dusk turned into that romantic violet velvetiness that he arrived home. Jessica's car was in the drive, so she must not have had to work late tonight. Which might be a good thing or a bad thing, but Malcolm wouldn't know until he entered his house and saw what kind of mood his wife was in.

Not that her mood made much difference, since his own mood had soured as soon as he saw her car. He'd been hoping to rest a bit, get some paperwork out of the way, shower and be in bed, asleep, before she arrived home. Well, a man could tell when not to bet on the horses by how his life changed from day to day at home, not that he was a gambling man, but his daddy had been, and he never bet on the horses when Malcolm's mother was in that deceptively good mood.

He entered through the kitchen, as that was the first place he liked to see when coming home. Front doors led to living rooms and sitting rooms, places that near everyone always kept clean and respectable for company, especially unexpected company. The kitchen, on the other hand, was the heart of the house. It shown just how things really were at home, at any given time, and Malcolm enjoyed knowing the true nature of things.

He went upstairs, but she wasn't in their bedroom either, nor any of the other rooms. Standing by the window of one back bedroom, he looked out into his backyard. Jesse wasn't within sight any of the places he could see from his vantage point. 'Oh, well,' he thought, 'I guess it won't be such a bad night after all.'

He shouldn't be so angry at Jesse, but her sister, Claire, was one of the most deceptive and conniving women he'd ever met and Jesse, maybe because it was her sister, had at one time allowed Claire to manipulate her into nearly ending their marriage.

It was when they'd first wed, their very first year of wedded bliss, or so Malcolm had ignorantly thought. Claire was younger than Jessica, by nearly eight years, but even back then, Claire had the willful mind of a woman far older than her years. Which had brought many troubles to her family. But, that one day, was the worst, and it was the last time he'd seen Claire.

They'd been at Jesse's yearly family gathering, and it was the first one Malcolm had attended as Jesse's husband. Sure he'd been to a couple before, as her boyfriend, yet, somehow going as a husband had held richer meaning, and carried more acceptance. So it was with distinct pride as a husband and a certain artificial maturity that he attended the family gathering.

He'd been mingling with Jesse's relatives, mostly the male cousins and uncles, as well as some of the older women relatives. Jesse had left his side early on, to go do her own mingling. Although, he knew of Claire's decidedly less than sparkling reputation, he also thought it was just a phase any young headstrong woman might experience before finding her center and settling down. Then as he was passing by some of the younger female cousins clustered together, he'd overheard their loud whispering. Their words weren't totally clear against the other gabbing going on around him, but he distinctly heard Jesse's name mentioned in a hushed manner. His interest piqued, but feeling calm and on top of the world, he stopped walking and edged a bit closer, keeping his back to them to prevent them from recognizing him easily.

Malcolm need not have worried, the girls were so engrossed in their hushed conversation they didn't think to look around to check who might be listening.

He could easily hear them now, even over the sound of other nearby voices. It was as if his ears and mind were able to focus exclusively on their whispers. But it was just girl talk. Somewhat amused at the girlish nonsensical bantering back and forth he heard, he was about to leave when something else caught his ears.

"I swear, that Claire is nothing but a slut. Can you believe that she would really involve her own sister in her plans?"

"Yeah! I can't believe it. I mean, who gets their married sister to go along with something like that?"

In unison, they all laughingly said,"Claire!" After a moment of mutual amusement someone else spoke up.

"Where are they going to do it?" asked one girl in a awed tone.

"Up by the old oak tree, is what I heard. But, Claire could have been saying that to mislead us, and they might be down by the creek." said another girl in a tone of apparent disgust at Claire's attempted slyness.

"Are they really going to do it?", asked a new voice.

"Yeah. They are. I don't know how Claire talked Jessica into it, but they really are going to do it."

'What the hell are they talking about?' asked Malcolm of himself. "Do what?' No longer amused, Malcolm wondered what sort of mischief Claire had talked Jessica into. Jessica was her own person, but Malcolm knew that Claire could charm the stink off a skunk with just a slight uplift of her well manicured eyebrow. That's just the way of Claire, but whatever she was up to, he didn't want Jessica taking the heat for her sister.

Hearing more than enough, Malcolm looked around, orienting himself. He knew both the places they mentioned, and not just because of his attending the family gatherings over the last four years. He and Jesse had ventured out here on their own more than once and... A unintentional grin spread across his face as he thought of the reason they'd been up here on their own. The land belonged to Jesse's grandfather, but it was open to any and all family members at any time. He and Jesse had used that open invitation many a time.

Trying to dampen his grin, Malcolm moved off to go find his wayward wife and his troublesome sister-in-law.

They weren't at the oak tree, so with impatience hastening his steps, Malcolm began walking to the creek which lazily ran about a mile away from the oak tree.

He was caught up in the walk through nature, his mind at ease and enjoying his thoughts of Jesse and himself, thus he wasn't pay attention to what his ears heard, until he was nearly at the creek.

Then unexpectedly, he heard someone talking.

"Come on, baby, I need you! Give it me! I've been waiting for this the longest."

That was Claire's voice! But...

Who was that with her? It was a male's voice, but inarticulate. Well, it was none of his business what Claire did with whomever she wanted. But, how was Jesse involved?

Not really wanting to spy on his sister-in-law and her lover, Malcolm began to quietly ease back away from them.

Then...

"Jessica, you've got to get with it girl. He isn't going to do anything until you do something first. Your dip-shit husband isn't going to know anything, anyway. Just hurry it up, so we can get back before he notices you're missing."

'What in the fuck?' screamed Malcolm in his mind, all thought of anything rational vanishing in an instant haze of anger.

His feet, without conscious thought from his brain, instead of taking a step back, leaped forward into a run.

Crashing through the thick brush that ran along the creek, Malcolm burst forth on a scene that indelibly etched itself forever into his mind.

The first person he saw was Claire, her top off and her small breasts exposed, as she straddled some guy laying on the ground. Her skirt was hitched up around her waist, exposing the pale silky smooth skin of her thighs. Off to the side, a few feet away was Jesse, fully clothed, but sitting on the lap of another guy, also fully clothed. Her arms were locked around his neck and it was obvious she had been kissing him as the color of her lipstick was smeared on his lips and his lower face. In turn his hands were cupping Jesse's ass, still rubbing and gripping each of her ass cheeks through her jeans, even as they all turned to look at him in horrified surprise.

"What in the fuck!?! Goddamn you, you fucking bitch! And you! You sorry motherfucker! I don't know who you are, but I'm going to tear your goddamn fucking dick off and feed it to the fish!"

Everyone saw the red rage on his face and the burning fury in his eyes and never for a moment doubted his enraged yells as less than fact.

~N~

"Jessica! Jessica! Wait! Hold up!" yelled her friend Phyllis, as Jesse walked out of the pharmacy.

Jessica stopped walking and turned toward the shouting woman. Phyllis practically jogged to Jessica and in a breathless gasp said, "I'm so glad I caught you. I was going to call you, but I've been so busy..."

"Hi, Phyllis. Are you okay? Is Henry okay? The kids?" asked Jessica, concern tinging her voice.

"Yes, Henry's fine. Well, you know Henry. Same old Henry. If he isn't at work sitting on his ass, he's at home in front of that damn television, sitting on his ass. The kids are doing okay. Junior just got promoted to assistant manager and they moved him to another store, which will be his own store very soon. And Virginia is in her fifth month, so four more to go and I'll be a grandmother again!" squealed Phyllis with child-like delight.

"Oh. That's all very nice. But, you didn't scream my name half-way across the parking lot to tell me about Henry's ass, or that Junior is a big wig, and that Virginia is popping out another one, did you?"

"Oh, no. I didn't.", Phyllis grinned at Jessica's obvious annoyance. " I just wanted to tell you- Well, that I saw Mal at Brewster's the other night! Now, before you go getting wild thoughts, he was by himself. Sitting there drinking. Alone." explained Phyllis with an expectant look on her beaming face. "Is everything okay between you two lovebirds?"

Jessica stared at her friend for a moment before replying. "Yes, everything is fine. It's kind of you to ask." You evil bitch, added Jessica silently.

"Oh. Okay, I was just wondering because he was also-" began Phyllis.

"I'm sorry, Phyllis, I'm in a hurry. We'll talk later." interrupted Jessica, before Phyllis could complete whatever else she was going to say.

Before Phyllis could reply, Jessica turned and walked away. But even then, Phyllis got in a parting shot, "I heard that Mal talked to Claire. Just thought you should know."

Jesse could hear the glee in Phyllis's voice, which infuriated her to no end.

Jesse and Phyllis had become friends while they were in high school, but as each had come to quickly realize, they were both highly competitive. Although their rivalry remained friendly, there were those times, a contest became so heated they'd have a short period of falling out.

Jesse knew, that to Phyllis, their respective marriages were just one more contest. In an age where divorce was the rule, any couple whose marriage lasted for more than a few years was considered the abnormal. And, fair game for competition. For that same reason everyone in their neighborhood knew that Phyllis would never divorce Henry. No matter what he might do. However, that certainly didn't prevent Phyllis from stepping out every now and then.

Pivoting on her heel, Jesse looked back at Phyllis, and with a flip of her longish hair, said, "Thank you for telling me, dear. I do have to ask though, did Mal see you at Brewster's, sitting alone? You know my husband, true blue to a fault, and he won't put up with folks that run around. Oh, but I'm sure you have no worries when Mal and Henry talk, since I'm sure you were all alone. Just like Mal."

Smiling like the Cheshire cat, Jessica turned away and sauntered off, but not before she saw Phyllis blanch, then the look of worry and anger that crossed her features.

Phyllis might not pursue a divorce, but that didn't mean that Henry wouldn't. The thought made Jessica smile even wider and profoundly more venomous.

If Jesse could have heard Phyllis whispering under her breath, she might not have been so self-satisfied.

"You fucking bitch. I know what you've been up to and with who. Maybe, just maybe, Mal will know soon too."

~N~

Malcolm was back at Brewster's. He didn't know if Jesse was home, only that if she was, he didn't want to be. Last night's encounter had been almost more than Malcolm's temper could handle.

Something about Jesse's behavior had aroused his suspicions, setting off warning bells in his mind. Her whole attitude had been both utterly strange and vaguely familiar. A questioning thought, Malcolm would have once considered woeful, unexpectedly entered his head.

'Is Jessica cheating?'

The voiceless denial that automatically sprang up was languorous in its rejoinder. Somehow, his subconscious had already connected the dots, while his conscious self was just catching up. Malcolm couldn't cite any specific incident, but the little things, taking together, sure seemed to point to...

'Goddammit! What have you done, Jesse?' screamed Malcolm's mind.

The waitress, carrying a tray filled with empties, stopped in front of him.

"Hi! Here again? Nice to see you again, sweetie! What can I get you?"

His musings interrupted Malcolm noticed it was the same waitress as the night before. A slow smile spread across his face at the sincerity he heard in her voice.

"The same?" said Malcolm, curious to know if she would remember what he'd ordered last night.

"You got it! I'll be back with two beers." she replied laughingly.

Still smiling, Malcolm took a look around the bar, but again, it was early and the bar was relatively quite.

The same men he'd seen yesterday were in the same spot. They'd been talking animatedly when he walked in, but toned it down as he walked past them. There was a couple in one booth, talking quietly. He'd couldn't recall seeing them last night. And a woman sat alone in a booth, but Malcolm couldn't make her out, as it was somewhat darker in that part of the bar.

He walked to the same table as before and sat.

Pondering his situation a bit more as he waited for the waitress to bring his beer, and so lost in thought that Malcolm failed to notice the woman who walked up slowly to his table.

"May I join you, Malcolm?"

Surprised at the unexpected use of his name, Malcolm snapped his head up. Claire!

"What the fuck do you want?"

Sighing, Claire, replied, "Just to talk. That's all, just talk."

"I have nothing to say to you, and I'm pretty sure you don't have anything I want to hear, so just go away, Claire." said Malcolm, harshly.

"I will, once you've heard me out." said Claire defiantly.

"I said no. What part of that don't you understand?" retorted an increasingly frustrated Malcolm.

"Listen, you ignorant pompous Neanderthal, you ran me out of town once, but that was a long time ago, and I don't scare so easily anymore. If you don't hear what I have to say, then-" began Claire heatedly.

"Goddammit! Shit! If it isn't your sister, it's some friend of hers. Now, it's you. What is it with women? All you can do is stir up shit!" loudly exclaimed Malcolm, with his patience expended, his frustration had turned to anger. "Why can't you leave me alone? You did it for over twenty years, what is another twenty years? Huh?"

Claire stared at Malcolm, her hot eyes burning into his with her own anger.

"I was seventeen years old. Seventeen years old, you fucking piece of shit! Ever since you saved their precious daughter, every word out of your mouth was like gospel to my parents ears. Everything you said, was taken and acted on. In the end, I had to leave my home. To live in a girl's home. I wasn't given a choice. I was frightened by how badly everything had blown out of control. So, I never fought back. Well, buddy boy, that scared little girl is long gone. And, also thanks to you, any chance of inheritance was taken away from me. When my parents died, the only thing I received was a copy of their death certificates!"

Her chest heaving with pent up fury, Claire stopped her tirade to draw breath.

Malcolm was taken aback by both Claire's vehemence and what she'd said, so much so, that he was momentarily rendered speechless. He hadn't known her parents had ushered her off somewhere. Malcolm always figured Claire had run away. Jesse had even gone so far as to encourage that perception.

"Another thing! What I do and with whom I do it with is my business! You got that, shit for brains? My business! Not yours! Not anyone else but mine! So don't go getting all righteous and twisted up about my business!"