Just Once

I must admit that I do enjoy finishing stories that other authors have left unfinished. In some cases, it's me or others that feel that one particular story or another feels incomplete. In this case, my thanks to Kalimaxos for allowing me and others to let our imaginations run wild. Just so you know, this is a BTB type of story. However, no animals, secret lovers, or cheating wives died in the making of this story.

When I finish reading it, I noticed Leslie was at the kitchen island filling her glass again.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I will be," I replied.

She nodded and came back with the bottle and her filled glass. Sitting next to me this time, she refilled my glass and turned to look at me with those doe-like eyes.

"So, Rick? What do we do?"

I stared at Leslie, and she was, without doubt, a very desirable woman. Leslie just oozed sex appeal from every pore. Everything about her screamed out that she wanted to be fucked. But I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my wife had flown off to Columbia with the Doctors Without Borders to fuck Dr. Trey Cardosa. In exchange, Marcie had convinced our neighbor, Leslie Nielsen, to have sex with me for the six weeks she was to be gone.

Leslie and her husband Vincent had a strange sort of relationship. Vincent liked to watch his wife with other men. Their whole situation was totally fucked up. Besides, at that moment, I knew I was in no condition to make any kind of rational decisions.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. "We aren't going to do anything."

"Why?" Leslie asked with the disappointment flooding her face. "Your wife gave you a hall pass for six weeks. Don't you find me attractive?"

"I find you very attractive, Leslie. However, I have a lot of thinking to do and decisions to make. Taking my wife up on her offer goes against everything my parents taught me, everything that the army taught me, and how I've lived my whole life. I need to decide what I'm going to do with my marriage. Let me sleep on it."

"Okay, Rick," Leslie said with a little pout. "Call me tomorrow. I really hope you take advantage of what your wife has offered you. I really, really want to be with you, and my husband thinks it would be good for both of us."

I was glad to get Leslie out of my house without any fuss. As tantalizing as the thought of having sex with Leslie was, the lifestyle that the Nielsen's lived turned me off. They have convinced themselves that they have this unique and wonderful relationship. However, I'd be surprised if their marriage lasts another five years. In all of this shit storm that I was now in, there was one thing I was certain of, I was not going to take my neighbor up on her offer, and I'd leave her a message to that effect tomorrow.

I grabbed a beer and sat at my desk in our den. I needed to think and come up with a plan going forward. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do about my marriage. But one thing for sure, I wasn't going to let my wife's sex trip to Columbia be anything like she envisioned. It definitely wasn't going to be the romantic getaway she had planned.

I finally put the pieces of my plan together. It wasn't perfect, but I thought it would accomplish what needed to be done. As an Army intelligence officer, I had made many contacts and had many favors owed to me. Tonight, I was going to use some of those contacts and favors. It took about an hour to make out a list of things that I wanted to accomplish. Then I picked up the phone and started making phone calls. Since Columbia was an hour behind me, I didn't inconvenience too many people.

I made one other call, and that was to Diedre. I had kept in touch with her over the years because of our closeness in the army. Marcie had intimated that Deidre had told her that we had cheated together. That just didn't sound like the soldier I had served with.

Deidre's phone rang four times before she picked up. "Hello."

"Hey, Deidre, it's Rick. How are you doing?"

"Rick," Deidre's voice rose in excitement. "I'm doing great. How are you?"

"Right now, not so good," I responded. "I'm having a serious problem with Marcie. Do you mind if I ask you about the time that you visited her when you got back from overseas?"

"Not at all," Deidre answered. "Like I told you, I stopped by to let her know that you were safe and hadn't been hurt in that skirmish. Rumors of the ambush had spread, and I wanted her to know that you were okay."

"Deidre," I said after taking a breath, "I want you to be straight with me. Marcie claims that you made it sound like we were sleeping together."

"Rick, I would never do something like that to you," Deidre said with some heat. "But your wife wasn't pleased to see me and made some comment about how close we were. I didn't want to upset her, so I just left."

"That sounds more like you, Deidre," I said kindly.

We talked for another fifteen minutes before I let her go. One thing I did learn was that Deidre had finally found Mr. Right and was getting married.

When I finally finished talking to Deidre, it was after midnight. I had put in place everything that I could think to do, so I went to bed. I wish I could have gotten a good night's sleep, but that was impossible. I tossed and turned, trying to figure out why Marcie was doing this. More important than that, I was trying to decide whether my wife and I could overcome her affair. Was I willing to throw away a twenty-four-year marriage?

I think I finally fell asleep about three in the morning, but the morning sun, plus my tortured mind, wouldn't let me sleep past six. So, I got up, had some breakfast, and put on my running shoes. Many mornings, I began the day with a six- or seven-mile run. Today, I was already out seven miles before I realized I needed to turn around. However, I was able to do a lot of quality processing.

My mind was still churning as I jogged down our cul-de-sac. I was almost home when I saw Jacob Tanner sitting on the curb in front of his house crying. He was the nine-year-old son of our neighbor, Kimberly Tanner. I slowed and stopped in front of the boy. He didn't even notice me, so I knew something was really bothering him. Jacob and his mother Kimberly had lived on our street for the past five years after Kimberly's husband, David, had died in a car accident.

David and Kimberly had bought the house a week before he died. They had sold their old house and closed on the new one. Kimberly had no choice; she had to move in. It was a struggle for her for a couple years to hold everything together. At one time, she was working three jobs to make ends meet. But finally, she landed a job as an administrative assistant for an Edward Jones agent. After that, Kimberly didn't have to struggle financially.

Marcie never liked Kimberly, and I could never totally figure out why. The only thing that I was aware of was that my wife felt Kimberly wasn't keeping her house maintained the way everyone else in the neighborhood did. Marcie complained that Kimberly was depressing the property values of the entire neighborhood. I tried to tell my wife to cut Kimberly some slack because she was struggling financially. That didn't go over well, so I stayed out of it.

I know that Marcie and Kimberly had had words two or three times about what I don't know. But Marcie just seemed to dislike the single mother. I remembered one big blowout where Marcie called Kimberly a "sneaky bitch." The two women kept their distance from each other after that. Still, Kimberly was always pleasant to me. But to keep the peace, I kept my distance also.

Jacob still hadn't noticed me as I sat on the curb about ten feet away. I studied him for a minute. He was all boy, and I frequently saw Jacob playing one sport or another with the other boys in the neighborhood. He was also a cute little kid with sandy-colored hair, freckles, and ears that stood out a little too much.

"Hey, Jacob, what's the matter?" I finally asked softly.

I guess the boy was startled when I spoke to him. He jerked slightly. Then Jacob looked at me with eyes that were so sad that it brought a lump to my throat.

"What's the matter, buddy?" I tried to coax him to talk to me. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He shook his head. "No, my mom got a call from the athletic club, and my baseball team is being disbanded because we don't have a coach."

"What do you mean, you don't have a coach?"

"None of the parents were able to coach the team," Jacob said as he wiped his nose with his sleeve. "And without a coach, we can't have a team. That means I won't be able to play little league."

I thought about that for about thirty seconds. All the years that my kids were growing up, I never got a chance to coach either of them, mostly because I didn't know when I'd be home. But I was retired now from the army with a civilian security job, which allowed me very flexible hours. The idea of coaching a little league team suddenly had a lot of appeal to me.

"Tell me, Jacob, are parents the only ones who can coach?"

"No, because my friend Billy's team is being coached by his uncle, and my friend Paul's team is being coached by his brother's friend."

"Do you think they'd let me coach?" I asked.

Jacob's eyes got big. "Would you really do it?"

"Yeah," I said with a big smile, "if they will let me. Let's go ask your mom."

Since it was still early, Kimberly was in the final stages of getting ready for work when I knocked on their door.

"Mr. Weston," Kimberly said pleasantly. "What do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning?"

"Well, Jacob was just telling me that they are disbanding his baseball team because they don't have a coach. If it's acceptable, I'd be willing to coach the team."

I think that my request was pretty close to the last thing that Kimberly expected me to want to talk to her about. While I watched her process my request, I studied Jacob's mother for perhaps the first time. The few times I had been in the proximity of Kimberly, Marcie had been somewhere nearby, so I didn't look too closely. Besides, I had no interest in my neighbor. Now I realized that Kimberly was very pretty, if a tad overweight. Still, the extra few pounds didn't diminish the woman's attractiveness.

I took a moment to study my neighbor. What I found was that Kimberly had medium-length dark brown hair with deep blue eyes. Her breasts were larger than Marcie's, and there was a warm, friendly aura about Kimberly. When I compared her to Marcie, it was like comparing apples and oranges. They were both pretty but in different ways. Marcie was only five foot five with the body of an athlete, slender and muscular. She had larger breasts than you would expect on someone with her build. But, of course, I had paid for them because it was something Marcie wanted, and I knew that she was insecure with her small breasts. Kimberly had a more voluptuous body and was taller, only a couple of inches shorter than me. And I strongly suspected that Kimberly's breasts were real.

One of the big differences I noticed between the two women was that Kimberly was very open and friendly to everyone. As the saying goes, she was exactly what you thought she was. While being a very loving wife most of the time, Marcie did have her occasional moments when she'd get cold and bitchy. I excused those times as my fault for being away so often. Still, I loved her to distraction until this latest incident.

"I don't see why not," Kimberly finally said, which brought me back to the present. "However, I have to get to work and Jacob to school. Let me give you the number to Guy Patterson. He runs the baseball program. I think he is the one you should talk to."

So, I did talk to Guy, and he made me the coach of the Clifton Falcons. I learned that there were eight teams in the league, and they were all Clifton something. There were the Owls, the Cougars, the Tigers, the Bears, the Eagles, the Cobras, and the Otters. The last one, I didn't get, but who cares. Our team colors were red and white, and we had practice from five to six-thirty on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I could also have a third practice on that Friday because we were a week behind. Our first game would be that Saturday. So, we would only have one week of practice.

That morning, I actually went to work with a smile on my face. I had something to look forward to besides a cheating wife. I kind of fudged on my job that morning, spending about an hour or so calling the parents to let them know who I was and when practice would be.

That night when I got home from work, I got my first report from Columbia. It seems that Marcie had come down with food poisoning. The people on the Doctors Without Borders team became somewhat alarmed and took her to the emergency room. There they kept her overnight to be on the safe side. Then she was confined to bed rest for another day. That was my first payback strike at my wife's adultery. Many more were to follow if she didn't call a halt to her affair.

The following day, I went straight from work to practice. All twelve of my players, and at least one parent for each, were waiting for me. I gave a very short speech about wanting to teach the kids baseball fundamentals and sportsmanship. But mostly, I wanted them to have fun. I asked the parents to please not yell anything other than encouragement during the games.

I spent the hour and a half with my young players, mostly assessing their abilities. We warmed up, throwing the ball around. Then we had fielding practice followed by batting practice. I rotated each kid through the various positions, paying special attention when they were on the pitcher's mound. I spent the last twenty-five minutes demonstrating the proper way to field a ground ball and catch a fly. I also explained to the kids that it was important to get their elbow furthest away from the pitcher up and the bat back so their swing would be quick and level.

At the end of the practice, I told the parents that we were working under a little bit of a handicap because we had such a late start. To help build some team spirit, I asked them if they would like to come to my house on Sunday for a cookout. I told them I'd be serving hamburgers and hot dogs and that I had a pool. All but one boy could make it, and those coming told me they would bring everything else.

As I was heading out to my car, Kimberly stopped me.

"I just want to thank you for doing this," she said with true appreciation. "Your wife is very understanding. Even though we don't get along, please tell her I said thank you."

"My wife is in Columbia working with Doctors Without Borders," I responded.

"Oh, well, then thank you then," Kimberly said and started to walk away. She had only taken four steps when she paused and looked back at me. "If your wife is away, that means you have to cook for yourself. Why don't you come over for dinner? We're just going to have spaghetti with meatballs."

At first, I was going to refuse, but then I thought, why not? Fuck Marcie, I wasn't going to deny myself a home-cooked meal because she wanted to fuck some asshole doctor.

"I've got a few things to do at home first," I said with a bright smile. "Would it be alright if I came over in about an hour?"

"That would be perfect."

When I got home, I called my contacts in Columbia and was pleased to learn that the good Doctor Trey had gotten an irritant in his eyes. Apparently, something carried on the wind. Anyway, it caused the doctor a lot of pain and a trip to the emergency room. The swelling around his eyes concerned the hospital staff, so they kept him overnight. The nearly invisible irritant had been dropped into a fan. And that fan just happened to be blowing on the doctor as he was asking for his key. That was my first strike at the doctor.

Dinner with Kimberly and Jacob was a real treat. Marcie was a good cook, but she preferred to eat out. So, we ate out four or five times a week. During dinner that night, I learned that Jacob was a little chatterbox. He rambled on and on about the practice and the coming games. I had already figured out that Jacob was one of the better players on the team. He could not only hit the ball with power, but he definitely was going to be one of my pitchers.

The next day at work, I got word that Doctor Trey was out of the hospital, but his eyes were still swollen and painful. He hadn't been able to go into the field that day. I also learned that Marcie had been stricken with a severe case of diarrhoea. This puzzled the team because they all had taken medication to ensure that they don't get dysentery. But this wasn't dysentery. It was something cooked up in a laboratory, but it kept Marcie laid up for three days.

So far, Marcie and the good doctor had only had one good day of fucking. The last few days had not been the sexual fantasy my wife thought it was going to be. I mean, how can you be romantic when you're shitting your brains out.

Thursday's practice was a repeat of what we did on Tuesday. I was fine-tuning where I thought the kids would best fit in the lineup and in the field. Again, after the practice, Kimberly invited me to dinner. I, of course, accepted. She served Shepard's pie, which was excellent.

After dinner, I stayed and helped Jacob with his homework. Once he was done, his mother sent him off to bed. Kimberly then asked if I'd like a cup of coffee which I gratefully accepted.

"So, how are you doing with Marcie gone?" Kimberly asked.

I don't know why it hit me so hard, but it did. I couldn't help it when I sighed with sadness, and Kimberly picked up on it right away.

"Rick, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to burden you with my problems," I said, trying to deflect. "It's just that Marcie and I are not in a good place right now."

"I realize it's none of my business, but if you'd like to talk about it, I'm a good listener."

I looked at Kimberly's warm smile and said to myself, "what the heck." I needed to talk to somebody, and I still didn't want to burden the kids. So, I gave my neighbor a shortened version of what was happening to my marriage. I included my wife's insistence that she was entitled to this fling because of her beliefs about my indiscretions. I also explained what Marcie had set up for me with Leslie Nielsen. I was surprised that Kimberly knew all about the Nielsen's lifestyle, which was why she stayed away from them. I ended by reading the letter that Marcie had left for me, which I now carried in my pocket, so I could reread it whenever I wanted.

When I finished, Kimberly's face had turned from concern for me to sadness.

"Rick," she said finally, "I may be overstepping my bounds, but I think your wife is a selfish bitch. She has put a twenty-four-year marriage in jeopardy so that she can roll in the hay with some doctor for six weeks. What a stupid cow."

I chuckled. "No, you haven't overstepped anything. My thinking has been running in this direction since I found out. What I'm really struggling with is that Marcie admitted that she doesn't know if I cheated, but she has convinced herself that she is still entitled to this fling."

"Rick, do you know why Marcie and I don't get along?" Kimberly said after a momentary pause in our conversation.

"No, not really," I admitted.

"I saw you cutting your grass one day, and you didn't have your shirt on. I made the mistake of telling Marcie that I thought she was lucky to have such a hot-looking husband. Well, she took offense and started accusing me of wanting to steal you away. So, what she is doing is so hypocritical."

"You didn't really tell Marcie that about me, did you?" my face was flushing red.

"I offered it as a compliment, but she didn't take it as one."

Kimberly sat there smirking at my discomfort for a moment but then continued. "In her letter, Marcie said that, if you love someone, set them free. And let them come back to you. Well, she's totally wrong. If you love someone, you don't set them free by cheating on them. My husband cheated on me, and that's why we bought this house. He had a very brief affair with his secretary. After a really hard time, we decided to make a fresh start. So, David changed jobs, and we were working on putting our marriage back together. And we were succeeding when David got killed in the car accident. Some days, I still miss him quite a bit even after five years."