Kicker, Fran, and Molly

We danced at the reception. Molly danced with me for a while, then with Jeff. She was crying when she danced with him. I was with Twyla. The four of us had not had any swaps since Jeff and Twyla moved to Virginia. Not even when we moved there. Now, with them married, and listening to their vows of fidelity, I doubted that there would be any more. That was okay with me. I had great sex with Twyla, but I was in love with Molly. I knew that she might want a ring, soon. Twyla threw the bouquet right at her, for a reason. I was conflicted. I needed to be sure - as sure as you can get - that Molly would not stray from the marriage.

The next night, after dinner, we sat down to talk.

I asked her, "Molly, I know that we've been together for a while. I know that you and I have been true to our promise -- no one but Jeff and Twyla. Now that they are not available, I was wondering.....what you might want."

"I want you." She smiled.

"Only me? Me and only me?"

She hesitated. "I know what you're thinking. Well, maybe I do. I've always been a slut, I love football guys. Can I be true to a tennis guy? Right?"

"Yes. That's my true question, and I need an honest answer. I don't want to marry, have kids, and then down the road have all of it blow up."

"Honest answer. Yes. I can be true to you. I have been true to you, all this summer. I....I think....I know it's a chance that I'll slip up. Here's what I promise. Any time I feel like that's a possibility, I'll tell you. I won't sneak around. We can discuss it. I won't go out and get drunk, party. Not without you."

"Okay. What you're saying is that, if you are tempted, I'll know about it. That's good. But if I say no way, then you won't?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I love you. I don't ever want to hurt you."

"I have this to say as well. So far we've been together, but we always had other outlets, other people in our beds. Well, except for the last few months. If we get married, I will...I mean it...I will expect you to be for me and only me. I give you the same promise. Not even Mrs. Brown."

"Done," she said. She kissed me. "When do I get a ring?"

I pulled a small box out of my pocket. "Now." I showed her what I picked out, a small gold band with F & M inscribed in script.

"It's beautiful, Fran. So beautiful."

"Just like you, Molly."

We set the date for a weekend when the team had a bye. Marty would also be in Baltimore, not on the road. A Saturday afternoon wedding at a small park, with an indoor pavilion. Dinner at a hotel, with dancing after. I left the details to Molly, Twyla and their mothers. I had Molly sign a pre-nup, but a generous one. The only thing was if there was infidelity on her part, she would leave with a much lesser amount. If on my part, I agreed not to contest a 50/50 split. I really hoped it would never get used.

It all went off like clockwork. Our wedding vows promised eternal fidelity. We kissed, ate dinner, danced, had a great time. Jeff and Twyla, Marty, Kicker all had fun. Molly danced with all of them, including Twyla -- a fast dance but sexy. Some eyebrows were raised.

We went to the Keys for two weeks. Not full-on season, but nice. I started to learn how to sail. We had a great time.

The guys each had pretty good seasons in their first pro year. Neither team went past the first play off round. But Kicker, who started as just a punter, won the place-kicking job as well. His percentage was in the top three of the league. Marty caught a lot of short passes. So did Jeff. He was being used primarily as an H Back type of receiver. A lot of hits across the middle, though. I worried about that. It seemed to me that all of it might be cumulative.

I bought a gym, really a fitness center, about two miles from our house. I thought of it as a hobby. Kicker and Jeff used it all winter and spring, along with the team facilities. It was good for business to have them working out there. Some of the other team guys came in the spring as well.

I hired a trainer specializing in self-defense. We had a lot of interest in that, and so I got another guy. "Self-defense" was a term that encompassed punching, kicking, throws, counters. One thing -- insurance costs went up. Not enough to spike the profit.

Kicker and Jeff really liked the 'self-defense' class. One of the guys, Charlie, had Kicker kicking a heavy bag, high kicks. I wondered about it. But Kicker said it might increase his range. My programming kept me busy in the mornings, after Molly left for work. But just after lunch I would go to the gym and do 'self-defense.' It was getting me in great shape. I had quickness and was building strength.

Life went on. Twyla got pregnant, a boy. Joseph was born in December, just after Christmas. Poor kid.

Three years passed, with basically the same football situation. In his fourth year Kicker took a hard hit from a blocker on a punt return. His kicking leg was badly broken. I guess that's why NFL teams separate kicking duties. You had to hand it to Kicker, though. He went right after the ball carrier, trying for the saving tackle. He still had his long term contract.

Kicker bought a condo about two miles from our neighborhood. Marty still had his 'farm.' Kicker became somewhat of a celebrity, since he went out clubbing a lot in the off season. He was handsome and well-known. He got his picture in the papers often, dancing with a good-looking woman. They usually came home with him, but never more than once or twice. After the injury, it took him quite a while to get back into the club scene. He was morose, and he hung out at our house, or at Jeff's, a lot.

Marty also had children. He had a harem, on the farm. There were four, then five women there for him. He didn't marry them, but he supported them and their children. One woman, Betsy, was his favorite. She was a little older than the rest, had a ten year old son and functioned like a den mother. I loved our visits to the farm. Lots of kids running around, lots of good-looking women. Betsy especially interested me. If not for my promise to Molly, I would have tried for her. After all, she wasn't married.

Molly got pregnant, on purpose, eighteen months after we moved to Virginia. Blake was born, and Mary quickly followed. Molly took long leave from her work, both times. She started working from home for a while. I almost always worked from home. So the kids had a lot of parenting. When the kids were young, they saw a lot of Kicker, who hung around as he rehabbed. They loved him. He played with them when I was busy. He was almost underfoot. He was good with them.

He recovered, however, and resumed place kicking. Not punting, except in emergencies.

The kids grew up and went to school, sad to say. Molly went back to work. Jeff had some good seasons, one injury riddled one, and then some more decent ones. Twyla had another child, a daughter Jenna. She was a real firecracker, same age as Mary. They were close.

After eight seasons Kicker retired. Or, to be precise, he was cut because his range diminished. He had made some bucks. He still lived in his condo, and entertained. He began hanging out with us in the neighborhood.

Of course, we had lived in this same neighborhood since college. Jeff, Twyla, Molly and I had made friends there. We met parents who had kids the same age as ours. Saw them at soccer games. (Jeff wouldn't allow Joseph (Jojo) to play football. Jojo was a good soccer player, and great at kiddie basketball.)

We had barbeques, dinners, PTA meetings, and other social events. Molly always invited Kicker to these. Often, he would bring a young lady. That made him popular with the neighborhood husbands. He was already popular with the wives.

I was doing a program to integrate some three-dimension graphics with other military programs. It was contracted by the Army. I had a visitor one day, when I was at the house with Kicker. It was a smallish, dark guy, who told me he was with the Israeli government, and showed identification. He wanted to discuss hiring me for a job very similar to the one I was doing for the Army. I was pleasant to him. I introduced him to Kicker. Then I sent him away. I called my contact with the Army, told him about the visit. He told me that he'd send a team around that day. They came a few minutes after Kicker went to the gym. They went over the house with some equipment to check for devices. None. They installed some cameras in the downstairs. If he came back, they wanted pictures. They installed security. I already had that, but theirs was more sophisticated. I made sure that the data was also downloaded to a lap top upstairs. I completed the program for the Army with no further visits, or security incidents. Molly's work was getting much more intense, since she had risen at the company. She was gone from seven a.m. until after six. That meant that I was now the main caretaker for the kids. They were in grade school, and I participated in car pooling for sports. I got to know several of the moms. Some of them came on to me. Many of them were interested in Kicker. He was often at my house or Jeff's, and he would go to the kids' games and do car-pooling. I warned Kicker away from that. It was only trouble, and he had single women to help him out when he needed it. Kicker took my advice, mostly, I believe.

One day I realized that Kicker had become a big part of our family life. On the weekends, he would be around for all the social functions. Jeff and Twyla and their kids as well. Sometimes we'd all go out to Marty's farm, see how many children he had now. All in all, life was peaceful and good.

Molly and I were doing well, sexually. We seemed never to have lost our passion. When she started working more, it slacked off a little, but became more intense. I did notice, a few times, that Kicker and Molly would be touchy feely on the weekends. One day a friend, Dave Jenkins, asked about that.

"What's up with Kicker and Molly? They seem close." He was, I believe, trying to give me a heads up.

"What makes you say that?"

"You know, at your house they're always sort of affectionate. He's a hound, but he doesn't do that with the other women. I just wondered."

"I'll keep it in mind. You know, he's around so much since he stopped playing, he's become a fixture."

I did keep an eye, and I noticed that Kicker and Molly were a little too affectionate, even in public. I decided to ask her about it.

"Hey, Molly, I was thinking that Kicker has been hanging around a lot lately. I don't think it's good for him. What do you think?"

"I like him being around. He's a hoot, and the kids like him."

"A guy spoke to me about him last week. He said that you and Kicker seemed real close. He meant sexually."

"I have not had any sort of contact with him that way. No way. I do like him. Maybe people see that. I'll be a little more careful. You know, we have our past between us, and that may come through."

Two years later Molly came to me one evening after the kids were in bed, if not asleep.

"I'm feeling restless," she said. "I promised to talk to you if that happened. A guy at work is coming on to me. And I confess that lately Kicker has seemed more appealing. None of this is your fault. But, I don't want to fuck up. I wonder if monogamy....is realistic."

"What's the guy's name, at work?"

"Why do you want that? Please don't go all he-man on me. He's a salesman for the company, big lot PCR kits. He's very good at sales and he's.....attractive."

"Name?"

"Harry Baxter."

"And you haven't done anything with him?

"Nothing sexual. I went to lunch with him last week. He's definitely trying to get into my panties. He doesn't really hide that."

"And you're bringing it up because.....you're tempted?"

"I guess so. Even though I know what he is, I still.....He's still attractive, and attentive."

"What about Kicker? Is he coming on to you?"

"No more than usual. He's always been kind of open about wanting more from me. He's not obnoxious about it."

"Let me consider the problem. Meanwhile, no outside sex. I mean that. Stay away from Baxter. No lunches, no flirting. Nada."

"Okay. I'm sorry. It's been ten plus years since I had another guy. Maybe I'm just a slut at bottom."

"You kept your promise to talk to me. You also promised to be faithful, if I said no. For now, I'm saying no."

The next day, I went to the computer about Harry Baxter. I found out that he had a long history with married women. I got in touch with another computer nerd guy I knew. I set him the task of delving further into Baxter. It didn't take long to understand that the guy was real bad news. It also didn't take long to understand that he was extremely effective at what he did. That was bedding married women. His name was in several divorce papers. He'd been employed at Molly's firm for about seven months.

I printed out the material about Baxter, and left it on Molly's home computer desk, in a folder. That evening she came in my office late, having read the Baxter dossier.

"All right, Frannie, I see that Baxter is big trouble. He's also been after Mona Bridger. I'll warn her off."

"So, we're all right about Baxter? He's completely cut off?"

"Yes. Creep. Charming, though, and good looking."

"I'm not reassured, somehow, by that answer."

"I will not have anything more to do with him. Period."

"Okay, but what about your general desire for a new cock? Because that's what it right?"

"Yes. Well, in Kicker's case, a new old cock. Don't you ever want other women?"

"Sometimes. Not often. I'm really attracted to Marty's main squeeze, Betsy. But I never came on to her." We let it go at that.

About three days after this conversation, I got a call from the Army contact I had when I did the program for them. He asked if the small Israeli guy had been around again. I told him no. He said that the guy was not Israeli, but Iranian. He told me to beef up security at home. I followed up on that the next day, when Molly and the kids were not home. Outdoor cameras were installed. An alarm system was primed to monitor things indoors. It connected to the main office of the alarm company, for them to monitor. It seems that what I wrote for the Army had assumed some importance, in ways I did not yet understand.

Molly was aware of the changes. I explained about the Army contract. I told her she didn't have anything to worry about. It was just a precaution. I believed that. No one would gain anything by dispatching me, so far as I knew.

Things moved along for some weeks. I made an extra special effort in bed with Molly. She appreciated it. She made that very clear. I appreciated that.

It was a Friday when I got a call from Mona Bridger's husband, Peter. I had met him at her company functions.

"Fran, have you heard of a guy called Harry Baxter?"

"Molly mentioned him a while back. She said he was a hound, and was coming after her and Mona, too. She said she'd warn Mona. What's up?"

"I have information that he, Mona and Molly went out for drinks last night. At Angelo's. Was Molly late?"

"No. Well not real late. Maybe forty-five minutes. How about Mona?"

"An hour. Nothing happened except drinks, flirting. I've been having Mona watched."

"I can ask Molly about it, if you like."

"Please. Let me know how that goes."

When Molly got home, on time, I was relieved. I had dropped the kids at my Mom's house earlier. They were here for an overnight, because my sister was visiting.

"Molly," I said, "Have you seen that guy Baxter lately?"

She flushed, "I had hoped to keep you out of that," she said softly. "I'm making an effort on Mona's behalf. She's about to do something that'll screw up her life. She was going out for drinks with Baxter. I invited myself. I should have told you, though."

"Why didn't you?"

"I thought it might cause needless trouble."

"What do you think I should tell her husband? Maybe he should have Baxter whacked."

"Fran! Oh geeze, I hope you were joking."

"I hear he's in the trash hauling business. Harry Baxter might end up dumped."

"Oh my God. Oh." She seemed really distraught. I began to wonder who she would warn, Mona or Baxter. I decided to let it ride and find out.

"Whatever. I was really joking. I don't know enough about him to say that seriously."

That night, for some reason, Molly was particularly ardent. She jumped my bones as soon as I came out of the shower. Not an unpleasant experience. But that added to my nascent suspicions.

The next day I decided to go out to our weekend house, because I had to check on the propane tanks. I was going to stay overnight, come back Sunday morning. The tanks were still okay, half full. I scheduled a delivery for November. I decided to take a bike ride along the paved road, then up a few hills and around an eight-mile loop. It was one of my favorite country workouts.

I was still on the first, paved road mile when I ended up wrapped around a tree.

RECOVERY

Molly and the kids came to see me the day after the police. The kids at first seemed abashed. But they soon saw it was just me underneath the bandages. We had a good talk. They told me about their school, games, and their friends. They said that Kicker was taking my place coaching Blake's soccer team. That seemed fine, after all he could kick. Molly shooed the kids outside after about half an hour.

She said, "You looked like you were getting tired. I needed to speak to you about some things."

"What? Money?"

"Yes. I see that deposits into the account have stopped. I assume you know about the forty thousand or so. I wanted to explain. I lent the money to Kicker. He was in a bind. He said a temporary bind. I had our accountant look over his stuff. He agreed that the shortfall was temporary. So I lent him the money. I thought you wouldn't mind."

"Okay. I don't mind. I take it that he has been a big help to you while I was out of it."

"Yep. He's around every day. What else -- SusieQ is back in his life. She showed up, licking her wounds from a divorce. She and Kicker are close again."

"Does she have kids?"

"A little girl, Frannie -- imagine that. She's eight. Her name is Elise. Her father is in Europe, not coming back. Kicker is getting to know her."

"Sounds okay."

"They're at our house. All three." She looked uncomfortable.

"Why? Kicker has a condo."

"We all just thought that she'd be more comfortable with lots of people, some kids, around. I mean Elise. Not SusieQ."

"Lots of changes since I went down. "

"When do you think you'll get out of this place?"

"I have to go to rehab, they say. Maybe tomorrow, if I can walk today. In fact, here they come now."

A young woman came in with a walker. Molly said goodbye. When the door opened, I saw Kicker outside with my kids. I confess that I wondered what was going on at my house. I did get out of bed. I hurt all over, but I plowed through that pain. Really, I welcomed it. My initial foray took 30 minutes. Linda, my nurse, was very pleased. I believed that all that 'self-defense' practice had strengthened my body such that I could make a come-back.

After a brief rest, I used a cell phone lent to me to order another cell delivered. I also called my nerd buddy, Bing. I asked him to obtain someone to watch my house, and report what was happening there. In an hour, I had my new phone. I activated it, called Bing. He'd already made arrangements, to start immediately.

I slept. I was awakened when a State Police investigator came to speak to me. He had heard that I was headed to rehab. He had some questions about my life before the assault. II informed him that the Army had upped security on me; that my wife had lent Kicker money, that a man named Harry Baxter had pursued my wife prior to the assault. He seemed most interested in the Army material. He brought up a photo of Kicker on his phone. I Id'd him. Then he brought up a photo of Harry Baxter. I had never met Baxter, but had investigated him. I identified him. The investigator told me that the pick-up truck that hit me had been found, driven by a teenager from DC. Someone had left it in Southeast, keys inside. It had been stolen from a farm outside DC, about twenty miles from where it hit me. Tests were being run on the truck, but it was sure that that truck was the one used. The biker had Id'd it.