Just Too Happily Married

She'd stopped. She was sniffling, but I wasn't sure she heard me. I told her my hidden thoughts, "I'm sorry Barb. I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you. But honestly I look back. I wasn't enough for me either."

I'd really stopped talking to Barb. This was for me, "I'll be forty soon. My first twenty years I spent growing up. The last twenty I've done all things everybody said I should do. I suppose that included the flowers and the candy and the just in bed sex. That's over. I'm not 40 yet. I've missed a lot. I'm sorry you found out I wasn't enough. But you're right."

She was gasping for air. Through her tears she started, "Ryan I..."

I wouldn't let her. This wasn't about her anymore, "No Barbara. When this is over, and our year is up I'm going to start over. I'll leave the company. My kids don't need me. You sure don't. You need wild and free. Sorry I don't know where I'll be going or what I'll be doing, but it sure ain't gonna be this anymore!

I turned and looked at Judge Landis, "Judge I want to do the last two sessions. I'll stick it out till next November; then I'm gone."

I closed, "Barb I love you. I'll always love you. What's not to love - you're perfect. But I don't want perfect anymore. I don't know what I want. I do know I want different. Who knows what the future will bring? I'm keeping all; I mean all my options open. I'm telling you after next November if I never see you or Derek or Elaine again it'll be all right because I know I did my best. Next stop for this train is for me. I owe this to you; I'll love you forever for it."

She was crying like a baby. I stood up, "Judge I'll be going now," and I left.

~~v~~

I couldn't make it to November. I finished the last sessions. About Easter time I stopped in to see the judge. We worked something out. I closed my retirement and quit my job. The judge let me cash in one of our smaller cash deposits, and I left. I never told Barb or the kids. I just packed a suitcase, called a cab, and disappeared.

My wedding ring? I was supposed to open the pool the end of May; that was one of my 'jobs'. The morning left I went out to the back yard, lifted the pool liner and dropped it in the water. Maybe they'd find it, maybe they won't. Hell, I figured now that I wouldn't be there to open it they probably wouldn't even bother with the pool.

When I'd thrown Barb's ring I'd aimed at a neighbor's yard. Now I remembered how he mows his grass high. I figured by June her rings will be buried deep in the dirt. How appropriate.

Where was I going to go? Well I was too old to be a cowboy. But I always liked to fish and swim, and though my fingers weren't nearly so nimble I could still play the guitar, a little anyway.

Where would a guy like me go? I went to Key West, Florida; the last place anybody would look for someone like me. I started to let my hair grow out. I grew a big mustache; no little beard though, I remembered my dad talking Woody Hayes and the 'high speed blow jobs?'

I got a job at a bar. They made me work for free at first, but I was reliable and they started to pay me. I played the guitar at night, that not so good, but most people were too drunk or too high to notice. I owned three pairs of pants; a pair of brown jeans, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of tan jeans. OK, I had some cut offs too. I wore flip flops and tennis shoes. I swore I'd never wear a button up shirt, a sport coat, or a tie again. I stuck with raggedy Tee shirts and loved it.

Oh every now and then I thought about the kids and Barb. I'd miss them too, but I'd do some shooters and those thoughts would disappear. I found out there were other women. For an old guy I got pretty popular. I made new friends. I had 'gay' friends. Some of my prettiest girlfriends weren't anatomically girls. I didn't do the 'you know' though. But they accepted me, and I felt good.

I tried scuba diving. I went fishing. I helped out around some of the piers. Some of the men who had boats let me pitch in sometimes. I was good with numbers and helped some of them out at tax time. I was getting on with my life.

~~v~~

It was another Monday when my life got confusing...again.

I'd been emailing my sisters. I never Skyped, and I never told them were I was, at least I didn't think so. I thought I was incognito. Every now and then they gave me some news. I never asked; they volunteered. I found out, like my lawyer and friends said Barb's company found a reason and dumped after about a year. The kids were sort of in and out of school; well that was on them.

Here's when the stupid thing happened. I guess someone found something out. One afternoon I was wiping down the bar and up walked this woman; brown hair, blue eyes, snow-white teeth. She said, "Buy a girl a drink?"

It was Barb; somehow she'd found me. She told me she'd hired a private investigator. I didn't believe it but didn't call her on it.

Well I'd made a down payment on a little cottage on the cheap. Barb started following me around. She found out where I lived.

Barb kept hanging around the bar. Some of the drunks...well...she was pretty...and then me. After a while the other men stopped hitting on her.

She kept showing up at the places where I went at night. I played a lot of chess at one of taverns in the late afternoons. She always hung around me, touching and kissing on me. She looked and acted like the girl I'd met years before only now she was even prettier and more attentive.

I knew what she was doing, and I let her. Don't really know why, but secretly I was delighted. I played it cool. We weren't married, and I planned to keep things that way. She moved in. We started playing house all over again.

Here's a funny thing that happened. One night we were out. I got a little tipsy. When we got inside the house I went to pick her up to throw her on the bed like she said that 'boy' had done. She burst into tears and started crying no, no. I want you, not that! So I put her down and we made our 'old fashioned' kind of love.

What can I say? I'd always loved her. I found out she wanted 'different' too. She stopped using makeup. She wanted to do something 'she'd' dreamed of. She took up pottery. I'll say this; the girl didn't have a lick of talent, not a lick. Still she kept trying. She found a nice lady who owned a gift shop. Barb got her to put her 'junk' out on consignment. Of course, nobody bought the shit.

Well you know me. Some people never change. Barb's back and forth to the old lady, "Did anybody buy anything?"

So what did I do? I earned tips. Nobody knew how much. I started talking tourists into buying her worthless shit. She'd have a pot out for $19.95. I'd talk a tourist into buying it by giving him the cost of the pot plus another $20.00 after purchase.

Barb came home all excited, "Look Ry! Somebody bought one of my pieces!"

I'd say something like, "Gee that's great Barb. I knew it would happen."

Now I'm buying the stuff regularly. I get them, put them in a bag, and throw them away. I don't think she'll ever know. I guess it just goes to show some people never really change. Hard to believe; I'm still taking care of her, and God I am so fucking happy!

The end...well I guess.

A Postscript:

Could there be a sequel or sequels to this story? I suppose there might be one or two unanswered questions; plot holes as it were.

For one I don't think we got to meet Barbara. She was an adulterous conniver who deliberately took advantage of her trusting husband. Sure we got the answers Ryan wanted, but did they ever really offer any insight into Barbara? Having written this I was left with the feeling she remained just as big an enigma at the end as when the story started. Did Barbara get the bum's rush here? Were there personal complications, emotional or psychological factors at work we know nothing about? Is she even entitled to a hearing?

A second thing that might bother some readers; it bothered me. That was the old judge. Do old retired judges ever get involved counseling people in their divorces? I know a few have; this judge's involvement with Ryan and Barbara is a fictionalized version of a real life event. The question I ask though is why? Why would some irascible octogenarian ever involve himself in a case like this? What would impel him to it? Would he even have the energy? We certainly saw he was no professional counselor; he seemed to be taking sides. What was that old coot doing anyway?

Again ask yourself the old judge had a granddaughter. This was western Maryland, a region only recently inundated by the 'modern urban-suburban world'. To be sure the signs of change are scattered all over western Maryland, the West Virginia panhandle, and western Pennsylvania, but it hasn't been that long ago when a well-respected old man like Judge Landis might have easily been able to 'meddle' in the affairs of a deeply troubled couple. We see a failure here, but it wasn't because he hadn't tried. Did he have a story?

*****

Alas, I hoped you enjoyed the story. I hope all of you leave a comment, you too Harry, maybe especially you. And of course vote, but please, make it on the merits of the story.

Thank you,

Jedd Clampett