tagLoving WivesJust Get Over It

Just Get Over It


It was Saturday afternoon and I had just gone outside and picked up the mail from the mail box. There was an envelope among the bills I didn't recognize. The return address was from a company called, "Heritage4You", and was addressed to my ten year old son Jimmy. I went inside and laid the bills, advertisements and junk mail on a table. I picked up the strange envelope and went out back.

Jimmy was in the backyard kicking a soccer ball with one of the neighborhood kids. He's on a soccer team now and he's constantly playing soccer. The kid's a fanatic about it. I signed him up on a team when he was seven and he loved it. Before he joined the league I could have cared less about soccer. I never played the game. But many of his friends were playing and he wanted to join a team. I attend all his games now and have come to appreciate the sport. Football's my sport of choice though even if I never played it. The truth is I wasn't very athletic in school.

I watched him working the ball with his foot, bouncing it in the air a few times and then effortlessly flicking it to his buddy. I have to admit he is getting good and seems born to play the game. His coach even suggested I get him into a soccer summer camp to enhance his ability. I had some money saved up and Megan and I were thinking about it.

I called him over.

"What's up Dad?" He said as he ran over smiling and sweaty.

"You know what this is Jimmy?" I asked showing him the envelope.

He seemed to recognize it. "Let me see." He said ripping it open. He took out a three page document and said, "Its a gag gift that Mrs Cooper gave us at Robbie's birthday party."

"A gag gift?"

"Yeah. Some test to see where your family's from."

Robbie Cooper was one of our neighbors down the street. He quickly scanned the top page then handed it back to me. He didn't seem very interested.

"Is that all Dad?" He asked, anxious to get back to his friend.

"Hold on. She gave you a test?"

"Yeah. It was pretty stupid. We spit in a tube and then she sealed it. We were all laughing about it. I forgot about it but I guess she sent it in."

It was obviously the results of a DNA test you take and then send away in the mail. I read over the results.

"So Mrs Cooper gave you this?"

"Yeah. She got one for Robbie and said she thought it'd be fun to give them to all the kids at the party."

I looked at it for a few moments and said, "You sure this is your test?"

"I think so. My name's at the top. Mrs Cooper said it is."

I scowled. Jimmy's name is at the top. But the ethnicity is all wrong. From what I knew Megan and I are mostly Irish, with a little English and Scottish mixed in. This shows Jimmy's part Irish, English and Scottish, but he's also part Spanish, North African, a small percentage of other European areas and a bit of Middle Eastern.

I wondered if they got his results mixed up with another kid.

"You say Mrs Cooper gave you the test?"

"Yep. She said she would mail it in and we'd get the result in a few weeks.

Jimmy saw the perplexed look on my face. He asked, "Is everything all right Dad? It was just for fun ya know."

"Uh...sure. I know. Let me hang on to this. I'll give it back to you later."

"Okay Dad." He said and ran back outside to play.

What the heck! This can't be right. I went to the address book my wife keeps on the desk, found the Cooper's phone number and called their house.


"Hello Gwen. This is Sean Mahoney. Jimmy's Dad, from down the street."

"Oh hi Sean."

"Thanks for inviting Jimmy to Robbie's birthday party a few weeks ago."

"Of course. Jimmy's a nice boy, very well behaved. I'm glad he could come."

"Listen, we got the results back from Jimmy's DNA test. Did you give him this test at the party?"

"Oh yes. I'm glad the results got back so quick. I thought it would be fun for the kids to find out their heritage. They weren't expensive, so I ordered half a dozen for his friends so they could all have some fun with it."

"And you gave him the test. I mean, he didn't do it himself, right?"

"That's right. I helped all the boys with the test and mailed them in. Is everything all right Sean?"

"Uh...yeah...fine." I muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. "Well okay, thanks for the test. Tell Robbie happy birthday for me."

"Okay. I will. Good bye Sean."

"Good bye."

I looked at the test again. How could this be? We don't have any Spanish or North African blood in either my family or Megan's. At least I didn't think so.

Suddenly a bad thought hit me. I hated to think it could be true. I called Megan's sister Rita anyway, praying I was wrong.

"Hi Rita. Sean here."

"Oh hi Sean. What can I do for you?"

"Just wondering when we're going to see you again."

"Good gracious Sean, you make it sound like I'm a stranger." She laughed. "I was just over at your house two weeks ago for dinner. I saw Megan on Tuesday when we went shopping."

"Oh, that's right. Well, you're welcome anytime."

"I know that."

"So how have you been? Doing okay lately?"

"Yes. Just fine and dandy." She chirped. After a moment she asked, "Is that all you wanted to know?"

I blurted out, "You ever see Reggie anymore?"

"Reggie...?" She snorted. She was quiet for a moment then snapped, "He's not my favorite subject Sean. I thought you knew that."

"Oh right."

"He's been out of my life for years and I have no interest in having him around again. Ever! I thought you knew that."

"I know he's an asshole and treated you like shit. So you're still keeping him at arms length I guess. You know where he's at now?"

"I have no idea. He can go to hell for all I care."

"I guess you're right. Where's he from anyway? I always thought he looked a little Spanish or something."

What she said next hit me like a punch in the gut.

"Maybe a little." She agreed. "His Mom's born here but you're right, she does look a little Spanish. His Father's an immigrant from Tunisia or is it Algeria? Something like that I'm not sure. Whatever, I don't care. What's this all about anyway?"

"Nothing. Just making conversation." I replied with a catch in my throat. I covered the phone so she couldn't hear how choked up I was. When I didn't respond right away Rita asked, "Sean...you still there?"

"Yeah. Sorry, just had to cough." I cleared my throat and muttered, "Just wanted to call and say hi and see if you're mad at me or something."

"Mad at you? You idiot. I might be upset with you or my dumb ass sister. But I'll never stop loving my sweet little nephew and my beautiful little niece. I'll always love them."

"I know. You're a great Aunt and we all love you too. I'll speak to you later Rita and don't be a stranger."

"Never happen Sean. See you."

I suddenly had a bad feeling in my stomach. But there was no way! Megan would never cheat on me, especially with that shit head Reggie. She didn't like him even before he and Rita split up. He was a slime ball and everyone in our family knew it. He fooled around on Rita right up until he got caught in their bed with a neighbor's wife. Poor Rita was a basket case up until their divorce.

I looked out the window at my son kicking the ball with his friend. He had really shot up in height this year. His short cropped hair was coarse and black as coal. He was also getting a nice tan. I always envied how easily his skin accepted the sun, going from white to tan without getting burned.

Unlike Jimmy I never tan. If I'm out in the sun too long, I go to lobster red in no time before it peels off with weird freckles and looks like crap. Megan's the same. She never lays out in the sun which is great because I love her pale, white, pleasingly plump body. I tell her to never worry about getting tan. We always take plenty of sun block whenever we go to the pool or the beach.

I hated to consider it, but a seed of doubt was planted. I began to consider my son's looks and had to admit there were differences to Megan and I. The most notable was his height. Even at ten years old it was clear that Jimmy would be lean and tall. He had an amazing growth spurt last year and now is taller than any kid in his class. He's also getting more athletic by the day.

On the other hand Megan and I are not that tall, slim, or athletic. Megan was what you might consider a sexy, fun loving Amazon when I first met her. She was in her last year of College, built thick and succulent with pale white skin and a cute round face. She never told me too many details, but I heard from various sources that she spent a lot of her time at school chasing Frat boys and attending drinking parties. It was lucky for me she did, because that's how I met her. She and I still go out to bars, drink too much on occasion, dance and have a blast.

I'm just under six foot tall, four inches taller than my chunky wife. I weigh 200 pounds and am in decent shape. I work out a bit and jog around the park near our house once in a while. I never participated in organized sports, I was never good enough to be on a team, and you'd never consider me very athletic. I'm pretty average looking, certainly no stud, but not ugly either. I did well in school and got good grades. I like to work with my hands so I'm now working in the field of robotics, for a small robotics company in town.

Everyone in the family knew the soiled reputation of Rita's ex-husband. I thought Reggie Sora was an arrogant bastard when Rita first introduced him to me. He's obviously good looking and he knows it. Even Megan mentioned how attractive he was. But he was such a conceited blow hard she couldn't stand him. Later we found out good old Reggie was a relentless skirt chaser and a serial cheater. Now that I was seeing my son in a new perspective there was a resemblance. Maybe Megan HAD fallen for his slick line of bull shit.

Unlike me, Reggie Soro was tall, dark and good looking. He towered over me by almost half a foot and was blessed with a chiseled hard body like a male model. He was quite a good athlete in school, a local sports hero I heard, and he still played organized sports. I'm sure that's what attracted Rita to him in the first place. He's a slick talking salesman, selling used cars for a living.

I particularly didn't appreciate the impolite way he teased my wife. There were lots of pointed jokes about her weight and other impolite subjects. To my surprise Megan didn't immediately shut him down like I expected. She just tried to deflect his criticism and made it seem like a joke.

We did go to their wedding. Megan was a bridesmaid and I was an usher. The wedidng was nice, but Reggie made an ass out of himself at the reception. He got drunk and was hitting on so many women, Rita's Dad had to say something. I wanted to tell him off. But since he was marrying Rita I acted friendly to keep relations pleasant. It was difficult because he's a low class buffoon, with a loud booming voice and an annoyingly loud laugh. He would dominate whatever conversation was going on around him whether he knew anything about it or not. Nothing could shut him up.

"Sean!" Megan cried behind me and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

My wife entered the room and laughed when she saw I was startled.

"What's the matter honey." She giggled. "Did I scare you?"

"No...just...yeah I guess."

She set the bag of groceries down. Then came over, hugged me and kissed my cheek as she pressed her generous body against my back.

"Hey lover." She sighed, "I was thinking about you while I was shopping."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." She wrapped her arms around my waist and whispered. "I was thinking how I'd like to take you upstairs, throw you on our bed and ravage my handsome husband today, like you did to me Thursday night."

"That sounds...pretty daring..." I chuckled, "...with the kids around."

"Yeah. Too bad." She sighed with amusement. "But if you're good, maybe I'll let you ravage me again tonight. That is if you're up for it."

"I guess we'll have to wait and see."

She laughed and slapped me on the butt. "You coy bastard." She giggled. "Okay. We'll see. Just don't forget."

She was smiling as she went over to the table and began unloading the groceries from the bag.

"Be a Dear honey." She said sweetly. "Please go get the rest of the groceries out of the car while I fix some lunch?"


"And don't forget about tonight." She reminded me with a smirk.

"I won't."

This was typical behavior from my loving wife. Over the eleven plus years of marriage, we've enjoyed many expressions of affection like this. Its why the idea of her cheating on me was so preposterous. I'm crazy about her plump sexy body. She can turn me on with a suggestive look, a warm kiss or a tender whisper. I welcome her taking the initiative toward sex and love how assertive she is in our relationship. How can she be so loving if she's cheating on me? It doesn't make sense.

Megan has always been very sexually expressive. She was so emphatic about her desires today I nearly forgot about Jimmy's DNA results sitting on the counter. I'm glad she didn't notice it. I slipped the DNA results into the desk drawer on the way out of the kitchen and went outside.

Once outside, my thoughts were a million miles away.

I was an only child. My mother suffered complications during child birth and was unable to conceive after I was born. It didn't seem to be a problem though, at least not for me. I had the full attention of both parents back then. Mom stayed home and took care of me and the house while Dad went to work. When he got off, he and I would play catch or throw the football around. Later we'd eat dinner then watch TV as a family He'd take us to the park to play and we'd go swimming at the lake in the summer.

Unfortunately he smoked like a chimney and died from an aggressive form of cancer at a relatively young age. He was older than my mother, but still pretty young to die like that. The odds just caught up with him. It was sad to lose him, but at seven I didn't realize how much. My Mom took it extremely hard.

We lived in an apartment and after Dad died we weren't well off at all. Mom didn't work and in her depression after Dad's death, she wasn't able to take care of an apartment, pay the bills and handle a young son by herself. We moved in with my Aunt Betty, who was a spinster her whole life. As Mom's depression got worse, my Aunt would try to take care of her. I knew Mom had problems and tried to keep out of their way.

That was how I lived my early life, basically without either parent. Dad was gone and Mom was too depressed to pay much attention to me. Aunt Betty had a tough time making ends meet. My Aunt had a doctor check out Mom and he gave her medicine when she got too bad. But the fun, easy time I enjoyed before Dad died was over. Life became a dreary, lonely repetition of going to school, eating dinner, watching TV and going to bed. I had a few friends and played with them on the weekends. But basically life after Dad died was not a lot of fun.

I got through high school with decent grades, went to college and met my first wife Cynthia. She was a lovely young coed, the same age as me, attending some of the same classes. We began dating and life was suddenly wonderful again. I took classes all day and spent the rest of the time studying with Cynthia, dating Cynthia and making love with Cynthia. At the young age of 20 we got engaged and she was the love of my life.

A few months before graduation Mom finally died, more from depression and a broken heart than any physical ailment. I went to the funeral with my fiancee, and was surprised how few people attended. After being a shut in for so many years she didn't have many social contacts. Other than Aunt Betty and my Grandma Edith, who was getting old, there were only a dozen or so people there.

Cynthia and I went back to school to finish our education. We both worked part time jobs to afford a small studio apartment. We were great together and so much in love. We had sex everyday, if not more and made plans for when we were out of school and on our own. At graduation I met her parents and they were nice and friendly to me. No one from my family attended, which wasn't a surprise because other than Aunt Betty and old Grandma Edith there wasn't anyone else.

After school Cynthia got a job at an advertising agency, and I worked at a trucking company. They had a supply system they were implementing and needed someone with software knowledge to program their delivery devices. It was a perfect fit for me. Now that we were both making money, we were planning to start a family and Cynthia had gone off the pill. After so many hard years, life had now become beautiful for both of us.

We were together for 3 incredibly wonderful years, when on the way home from her job Cynthia was run over at a stop light by a drunk driver. She was killed in the most senseless accident I could ever imagine. We were going to have a baby and she was pregnant with our first child when she died. The drunk was killed as well and they couldn't save the baby. I was crushed.

I went to her funeral and nearly collapsed on the coffin. Her father had to help me to my feet and led me outside where I threw up. There were dozens of people there watching me stagger away sobbing. I was so distraught I couldn't even attend the burial the next day.

I went through hell for the next six months, quit my job, lost my apartment and was homeless for a while. Cynthia's parents gave me money and tried to get me into therapy. They made appointments but I never showed up. I know they meant well, but just seeing them reminded me of my dead wife. After a couple times I never spoke to them again.

Later I panhandled for liquor money and got food from a church that gave me a hot meal in the afternoon. I spent a lot of time passed out drunk. Aunt Betty somehow got hold of me and told me to come home and live with her and Grandma Edith. But I was so angry at the world I couldn't. I remembered how hard it was for her to take care of my depressed Mom, and didn't want to put her in that situation again.

I bummed around for a while, sleeping in abandoned cars or on porches that weren't in use. But as they say, time heals all things. It didn't heal the hole in my heart. But the longer I was on the street, the hungrier I got and the more ashamed I felt at how I had collapsed so badly. A preacher at the church I was eating supper at began to council me. He got me a job in a super market, stocking shelves at night. That led to another job in a warehouse where, of all things, they used the same automated supply system I used to work on at the trucking company. Once my Boss found out I could program their delivery devices I was hired full time. I saved some cash, got an apartment, and started to crawl out of my dark hole of depression.

I was still drinking quite a bit to forget Cynthia's death. But unlike when I was on the street I now had money and had regained some pride. I also had some guy friends from work I could drink with; drinking buddies if you will. We'd hang out Friday night at clubs, checking out chicks and getting hammered. One guy invited me to a Frat party near a college. I had a great time and they invited me back for another party the next weekend. That's where I met Megan Grady.

There must have been hundreds of people at the Frat house. It was a pretty wild scene, and with all the hot coeds running around I wouldn't have even noticed Megan if we didn't end up next to each other in the beer line. I was no where near drunk and she wasn't either. She was a big girl, overweight but not obese, with a creamy white complexion, shoulder length auburn hair and a colorful tattoo on her shoulder. She had a cute face flushed from alcohol. We were standing next to each other, waiting to fill our cups with beer. I started a conversation and found she was a fun chick, three years younger than me, friendly, with a nice, pretty smile.

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