January Sucks

"Just tell him that, if he doesn't come around and you guys divorce, you'll end up getting the house and half his stuff, his relationship with the kids will be damaged -- perhaps permanently, he'll have to pay a big chunk of his pay to you as spousal maintenance and child support, he'll be living in a little apartment with no life, while he'll be paying for you to live a great life and screwing Marc at the same time. It may be the 21^st Century, but the courts still favor wives, especially if young children are involved."

"But I don't think I could do that to him, Dee. Regardless of what happens with Marc, I don't see how putting more pressure on Jim will help. Besides, he's been so withdrawn the last few days I can't really get a read on him. Marc says that Jim has been trying to get back at him for what he did and he needs me to get Jim to stop. It seems like a better approach would be to try to get things back to normal so Jim won't feel like he needs to pull the temple down around him. Once things have settled down and he and I are on better terms, I'm sure he would back off from whatever he's up to."

"He's your husband so you probably know him better than me. I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt to be a little less accommodating so that he understands what he'll be missing."

"Well Dee, at the moment it feels like it's me that is the one who is missing things. Until things settle down, I can't really figure out if there's any chance of a future with Marc and, at the same time, I don't really have Jim anymore either."

"Stay strong, girlfriend. You told me Friday night that you expected some repercussions and its only been a few days. Emotions are still high and, for whatever he's thinking, Jim is still making time for his family. You just need to help him see what's in his best interest."

With that the two said their goodbyes, Linda to get to work and Dee to do whatever she does with her days.

I was lost in my thoughts the rest of the day. I did my work. I talked to my team members. But in the end, I was thrown completely off my game. I promised Linda that I would come by for dinner and I had no idea how I could even talk with her without revealing how I felt.

But, despite how I felt on the inside, the outside was a different matter entirely. More smiles from the women in the office and backslaps from the men. The contrast was driving me crazy. I tried to stay professional with my team but I'm good friends with Cory Williams, my counterpart with one of the other sales teams. So I wasn't surprised when Cory poked his head in my office at closing time and asked if I was up for getting together with some of "the guys" for a few drinks after work. I knew who he was referring to, as they invited me to these 'get togethers' every week or two -- even though I usually passed on them, preferring to stay home and spend time with my family.

"Sorry, Cory, but I promised Linda that I would have dinner with the family tonight." A look of obvious disappointment crept across his face.

"Sure, Jim. I just thought you might need a little time away from everything." He was right, of course. But, given the revelations about my week, I had the feeling that I was going to be their primary topic of conversation, whether I was there or not.

I started packing my office and decided to text Linda and let her know that I was on my way. But her surprising reply came back almost immediately.

"I don't think tonight is good. I heard about what you did to Marc and his friends this morning. Do you hate me that much that you would hurt people you don't even know? I think we should wait a day or two. Let's talk tomorrow."

Based on what I had heard from her phone call with Dee, I wondered if this was part of some new plan or if she was taking the Asshole's side with me publicizing his douchebaggery. Either way, it seemed a little odd.

Well, that was it. Far from being contrite, between her text and phone call with LaValliere, it was clear she still had strong feelings for the Asshole. And, while I wasn't sure that his feelings for her were genuine, it was clear that he wanted to keep the relationship going -- and I strongly doubted that Linda was capable of saying, "No."

Just then my phone "chirped" again showing that a text had come through from Linda's phone to Marc's.

"10:00." Was all it read.

I was still looking at my phone when Cory walked by my door waving goodbye.

"Hey, wait Cory." I called out. "Is your invitation still good?"

"Sure." He said with a grin.

"Okay. I'll join you, as long as it's not Morrison's." I said and then watched the grin turn into an all-out smile that spread across his face.

"No problem. We were going to All-Star anyway." He said, referring to a sports bar on the newer side of town near the football stadium. "We're going straight over, so I'll see you there."

All-Star was a typical sports bar. A huge rectangular bar surrounded by high-top tables, low tables on the periphery, and large booths against the walls. Dozens of flatscreen televisions cover the vertical surfaces around the restaurant starting above the bar and continuing throughout the place.

I noticed Cory sitting at a high-top table as soon as I entered the restaurant. When he saw me, he began waiving to get my attention. Sitting with him were three other friends from work. Matthew and Sarah both worked on Cory's sales team while Jacob worked in our contracting department. Of the four, Matthew and Cory were single while Jacob had just gotten back from his honeymoon and Sarah was married and, like me, had two young children, but both girls.

Everyone was strangely quiet when I sat down, as if everyone was waiting for me to signal the direction the evening would take. All I had to do was smile and Cory suddenly broke out in laughter, bringing all of us along with him.

"Damn, Jim." He said. "We haven't had excitement like this at work since..." he paused. "Well, for ever!" Laughter broke out around the table again.

The waitress took my drink order and soon we were diving into my situation. All four of them had heard me on the radio, at least the last time, so they knew the basics of my story. Since this was a social setting, I tried to keep my explanation light by stressing any potentially humorous moments -- and, yes, the "Sucks to be you!" comment got a good laugh.

The bar was filling up and, since alcohol is such a great social lubricant, I concluded that coming here had been a good idea. I had gone through my beer a little more quickly than I expected and was ready to order a second when I looked up into the smiling face of what I thought was our waitress. But instead, I found myself looking into the bluest eyes I had ever seen.

"Hi, my name is Ashley, are you Jim Lewis?"

I had never seen this beautiful woman before and was surprised that she knew my name. Tall and blond, looking like a combination of runway model and girl next door, Ashley seemed eager to make a connection.

"Yes. Have we met?"

"Oh no, but you've changed my life." I was confused but she quickly cleared that up for me. "Until two days ago I was Marc LaValliere's fiancé." The complexity of what she said snapped me to attention. And then she continued.

"Marc and I had been dating for over a year. We were even talking about getting married after he signed his new contract. And then all of this happened." She said, waving her arms around in a broad gesture. I looked into her eyes and immediately saw the hurt her smile was masking.

We talked briefly, and I was eager to continue, but it was clear that talking with her standing beside our table was an impediment to the kind of discussion that the subject merited. Then, with another burst of enthusiasm, Ashley solved our problem.

"Hey, I'm here with a bunch of my girlfriends and we've got a big table over by the window." She said nodding toward the other side of the bar. "Why don't you guys come and join us?"

The looks on Cory's and Matthew's faces told me that it wouldn't take much to convince these single guys to join a table of women, but it was clear that the others were waiting for me to decide. So I spoke up.

"Sure, Ashley. That sounds like fun." I called our waitress over and arranged to move our tab to our new area of the restaurant.

You could immediately tell that the single guys, and even Jacob, were pleased with the new scenery. Sitting at the table were three amazingly attractive young women. Ashley began by introducing the girls. There was Jessica, who was Black, Alexis, who was Hispanic, and Nicole, who was Asian; a veritable United Nations all at one table.

"If you haven't guessed, we're all cheerleaders. In fact, that's how I met Marc." Ashley explained. "We aren't supposed to socialize with players, but Marc and I kept our relationship quiet. And besides, the team didn't want to create a problem with one of their star players." Her friends all nodded knowingly.

And then Cory reciprocated, obviously cherishing his good luck. One by one he introduced our group but, before he got to me, Ashley interrupted and said to her friends, "And this is Jim Lewis." Gesturing to me. Surprisingly, looks of recognition crossed the faces of all three women at the mention of my name. I supposed that I had already been the subject of their conversation.

The ladies shuffled the seating to accommodate our group with Ashley being careful to seat me next to her. I noticed that there was an empty seat to her left and Alexis deftly shooed Cory away when he started to sit in it. In minutes the conversation took off and, as conversations often do in groups of this size, there followed a constant shifting, dividing and then melding of people and topics but, oddly, deferring any serious discussion of the subject that prompted our meeting: her ex-boyfriend's relationship with my wife.

Just then, the girls' heads all turned in unison toward the front door. As my eyes followed theirs, I watched a beautiful woman walk in. Even from a distance I could see that, unlike our new friends who were all rather tall, this woman was smaller; more the size of a gymnast. She also appeared a little older, perhaps early 30s, with obvious Mediterranean coloring. Her hair was almost black and surrounded her head like a glorious lion's mane and her dress both concealed and revealed what seemed to be a perfect hourglass figure.

I reflexively stood as she approached our table and was suddenly face to face with the most beautiful woman in the world. I had never imagined beauty like hers could exist. It wasn't just that she was sexy or hot, though she was all of that. She was a work of art. She should have been in some museum to be admired by the ages, except she was far too warm and alive and vital for that. Up until that moment, I'd thought that Linda was always the most attractive woman in the room, as usual. Now, she wasn't. And it wasn't even close.

"Everyone, this is Ellen. She is the Assistant Coach for our squad." Ashley announced. And then, gesturing to me, she said. "And Ellen, this is Jim Lewis."

Ellen looked at me in surprise. I extended my hand and stared into her beautiful golden-brown eyes. There was an initial look of excitement as I had seen in Ashley's, but I also detected a discernable look of sadness in hers.

Then recovering, and with the practiced perkiness of a cheerleader that masked the unspoken emotion in her eyes, she extended her hand and said. "Wow, Jim Lewis. I'm so glad to finally meet you," and smiled as if our meeting was an aspirational event for her.

We all sat down and, after Ellen ordered a drink, we began to speak.

"Okay," I said. "I can certainly understand why Ashley knows who I am. But I can't imagine why I seem to get the same recognition from the rest of you."

Ellen spoke up.

"Jim, you have no idea what a stir you have caused with our whole program. This isn't just about Marc -- it cuts to the core of the whole team. Most professional athletes have been coddled all their lives. From the time they are children they are told that they are special and, as they get older, they find that the rules that apply to everyone else are often bent or even ignored for them. As a result, they develop a sense of entitlement. The feeling that, as long as they perform on the field, everything they do is fine, even when it obviously isn't.

"Take Marc, for example. Everyone knows that cheerleaders are not supposed to socialize with players, and certainly not become romantically involved. But Marc isn't just a star, he's the team's goodwill ambassador to the community. He wanted Ashley, so when the team found out about them, they looked the other way. Ashley fell deeply in love with Marc. She knew about his reputation even before she joined our squad. But Marc was special, so when the rumors began that he had returned to his old ways, she ignored them.

"Jim, your wife wasn't the first woman Marc has picked up like that. In fact, proving that he is the "alpha male" by taking a married woman in front of her husband is one way he proves to himself that he is special. Usually the affair continues for a few weeks until, like a spider, Marc has sucked the life out of his victim and he's ready to move on. Sometimes the husband ignores the relationship, hoping it will end on its own. But often the husband simply turns his back on his wife, and she is left devastated when Marc is finished with her."

"What you did was different: you went directly after Marc. Instead of letting him have his way, you attacked, and did it in a way that used his own hubris and sense of entitlement against him. Now, while he doesn't want to show it, Marc is scared. Instead of seeing him as an asset, the team's management and especially the owner, now see him as a liability; one they would rather do without. And it's not just Marc. The other players are scared too. Now every other player who has leveraged their talent and prominence as cover to treat people poorly has witnessed their own vulnerability -- most of them for the first time in their lives."

"We're not supposed to tell the public, but this afternoon the general manager and coaching staff called a meeting with the entire team to discuss the bad press they've been getting because of Marc -- and they mentioned you by name. Everyone was told that, as long as they wear the uniform, they represent the team. So the team is now implementing a "zero tolerance policy" and begin enforcing the morals clauses of the players' contracts."

"Marc was at the meeting, but it was clear that he was the leper in the locker room. Management didn't want to deal with him, and his own teammates were afraid his disease would rub off on them."

Ellen's words were a revelation, to say the least. I had been so focused on my own problems that I hadn't given much consideration to anyone else. It was no wonder the Asshole had reached out to get Linda's help. But to think that something like this would be the trigger of something on this scale was amazing to me.

As the evening progressed, I learned that it was Ashley who had dumped Marc when the story of his infidelity with Linda emerged. Apparently, Ashley had just returned from helping at a weekend cheer camp out of state when the news of the Asshole's affair was made public. I wouldn't suggest that Ashley was shallow, but it now appeared that she was less concerned about what LaValliere had been doing than about people actually knowing what he had been doing. Not to mention that Ashley did not seem as upset about such a recent loss as I would have expected, and Cory was obviously trying to insinuate himself into the void caused by the Asshole's departure -- and Ashley seemed to be playing along.

As the evening evolved, the group slowly started to break up and it eventually dwindled down to Ashley, Cory, Ellen, and me. I had spent most of the evening in a one-on-one conversation with Ellen, who was keen to talk about me and my issues but resisted any self-disclosure when I tried to turn the conversation toward her. Not that she seemed to be hiding anything, I thought that it might have had something to do with not wanting to get personal within earshot of the young ladies who were her charges.

Given the late hour and perhaps sensing that Ashley and Cory were in no hurry to leave, Ellen turned her face away from the others and quietly said,

"Jim, I don't want to intrude on what is obviously a difficult time for you. But I haven't felt this comfortable with anyone in many years. I feel like there is more that needs to be said and it looks like we're not going to get a chance to do that tonight. I was hoping that you would like to get together again so we can finish our conversation." She looked hopefully into my eyes.

"I feel exactly the same way, Ellen. There's so much about this whole thing that I don't understand and we haven't talked much about you. So, yes, I would love to see you again -- and the sooner the better." I smiled.

"What about lunch tomorrow?" She asked.

"That would be great." I said. "Where would you like to go? And would you like me to pick you up?"

Ellen smiled and said, "No, I think it would be better if I met you there. And how about the Madison? It's quiet and I've heard the food is good. Is that okay?"

I had to stifle my surprise. The one thing about my story that only the five couples that went out that night knew was that our evening had begun with dinner at the Madison. It wasn't a place I wanted to re-visit anytime soon, but I loved seeing the look of anticipation on Ellen's face, so I agreed.

"Then tomorrow at 12:30 at the Madison, it is. I'll make the reservation." Ellen said and wished me a good night.

It was a few minutes after 10:00 when I left the bar and headed back to my hotel. Linda's text had been cryptic and the conversation with Ellen had distracted my attention. But throughout the evening my mind kept bouncing back to Linda's text. When 10:00 came and went without any further texts I grew suspicious. I decided to take a longer route to the hotel that would take me by my house, just in case.

Driving cautiously down my street, I looked over at my house as I passed. Nothing seemed out of place. There were no strange cars in the driveway or parked out front. It looked like the kids were down and it appeared that the only light was coming from the living room. That was not especially odd, but I knew that Linda liked to read or watch television in her bed this late at night which meant that there should have been at least a telltale glow from the master bedroom.

I can't really see myself as a stalker, but I decided to investigate just the same. I pulled over a few houses down and quickly walked back to the house. I started around back so that I could take a look at the kitchen and family room but they were both empty and dark. Our living room sits at the front of the house and about two feet above the walkway. Looking in the window would require that I climb several steps which could expose me to the eyes of any curious neighbors as well as anyone in the house.

As I got near the porch, I saw Linda sitting on the loveseat holding a glass of wine. She was talking seriously but calmly to someone on the side of the room closest to the door, but I couldn't tell who. My curiosity was piqued but, whoever it was, it didn't seem that anything untoward was going on. So rather than risk detection I started to back down the steps but, before I got to the bottom, I saw a shadow move on the wall behind the couch. A large shadow. Quietly I moved back up the steps and, leaning away from the porch and toward the window, I saw who it was. It was LaValliere, the Asshole!! Himself! Standing in my living room drinking a glass of my wine!

I was pissed. I was confused. I hadn't received any copies of texts or phone calls. Linda must have spoken to him on her work phone. Damn! And what could I do? If I stormed inside it would be clear what I had been doing. After all, it's a little hard for a peeping tom to claim the moral high ground.