Looking Back

"Ken don't," she cried. "You'll kill him." She reached up to stop my arm from descending, and as soon as she made contact with me; it felt as if I had touched something poisonous. I pushed her away from me. She fell back into the hay pile that she'd just been fucking on.

"Don't ever fucking touch me again," I sneered at her. "Where's the other one, Whore?"

"Ken, there's no one else," she said. "I'm so sorry. You have to let me explain..."

"Dylan get your ass out here, or I swear I'll lock you up in here and set the garage on fire," I yelled.

I didn't wait; I turned toward the door and grabbed the can of gas I used for the lawn mower.

"Ken what are you doing?" shouted Maddie. Behind me Will lurched to his feet. He was unsteady on them, but he got out of there. He knew I was serious. I started pouring the gasoline around the floor of the garage as Maddie looked on in horror.

"Ken, Honey, we can talk about this," she said. "It's my fault."

I struck a match and held it up. I was just about to drop it when Dylan came out of his hiding place. Behind us, I heard the sound of Will's truck starting up and driving away.

"I'm sorry Grandpa," said Dylan. I glared at him, my hatred, so thick it was all I could do not to hit him with the two by four I still held.

"I am no longer your grandfather," I told him. "I want you out of my house today!"

"But we're staying for two weeks," he said. "I won't do it again. I'm sorry."

"I don't care what anyone does with this whore," I spat. "I just don't want them doing it in my house ... I'll go wake your parents and tell them why you need to get the fuck out of my sight."

"No ... please don't," he begged.

"Ken, you can't do that," begged Maddie. She tried to stand between me and the door to prevent me from going.

"I got into some trouble at school," said Dylan. "That's part of why Mom and Dad wanted me to come here. We were going to all stay here for the first couple of weeks, and then they would go back to Chicago and ask if I could stay for the rest of the summer..."

"Ken, why tear the whole family apart over this?" begged Maddie. "We can work this out, I swear it."

I turned away from the cowering boy that I had passed my genes down to and turned towards the woman I expected to spend the rest of my life with.

"Why the fuck would I want to work anything out with you?" I asked angrily.

"Because ... we love each other," she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She reached out her hand to me as if she would take me in her arms and comfort me. She had done it so many times over the last forty years that I felt myself reaching back for her reflexively.

And then my rage overtook familiarity, and I reacted. "Bitch if you touch me, I swear I'll hurt you worse than you've ever been hurt in your life," I said. The very evenness of my tone alerted her to how serious I was.

"But Ken," she said as if I had actually struck her. "You ... you don't mean that..."

I turned and walked into the house, leaving her standing there.

* * * * * *

Maddie

As I watched Ken walk away from me towards the house, I felt as if there was a huge lump in my throat that I couldn't seem to swallow. This couldn't be happening. Ken couldn't have meant any of what he'd said.

But then he hadn't really said anything. Had he? He had called me a bitch and a whore, but that was just his anger talking. He told our grandson to leave. Surely he couldn't have meant that.

For the first time in forty years, I had no idea what Ken was thinking or what he would do. His attack on his best friend had left no doubt in my mind that Ken was angrier than I had ever seen him. I needed to go after him and calm him down before he did something that could ruin our family.

"Grandma, you have to do something," whined Dylan behind me. "Dad has already told me that this summer is my last chance. I can't afford to get in trouble again; especially not so soon."

"You should have thought about that before now," I said as I walked away, following Ken.

As usual, his mind was on the practical and the moment. As angry as he'd been, he still needed a shower. That was where I found him. I opened the door and looked at him as I had so many times before. His body was surprisingly firm and muscular for a man of his age. Thanks to his workouts and runs his muscles were still full, and I loved looking at his body.

Suddenly, I realized what I had risked. I forced the thought from my mind. "What do you want for breakfast, Honey?" I asked him as I did most days.

"Get away from me, Whore," he spat as if he didn't care who heard him. He grabbed the shower door and closed it.

"You don't need to be so loud," I said calmly. "And you don't need to close the door. I've spent the last forty years seeing you naked. You don't have anything I haven't seen thousands of times."

"You won't be seeing it anymore," he said. Then with what appeared to be a great effort on his part, he calmed down, got a towel, and wrapped it around himself. He opened the door and stepped out.

"What do you want Madeline?" he asked in a tone far calmer than his eyes told me he was.

"I think we need to talk about ... well you know," I said. "But maybe we should wait a while. I think that you need time to calm down. I need time to explain things to you, and we really don't want to wreck the kids' visit. We only get to see them once or twice a year. So maybe we should wait until they're gone, okay?"

"I don't want to talk to you," he said. "I don't want to calm down. I don't give a fuck about what you have to say. And lying to the kids or pretending to be civil around them is just another form of lying. Maybe you've gotten so used to lying and hiding things that you don't really know what the truth is anymore. But sooner or later, the kids are going to know about this. Sooner or later everyone is going to know about it."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"The kids are going to want to know why we split up," he said. Suddenly, my heart was beating faster than it should, and I found myself growing faint. I staggered and then caught myself by grabbing the wall next to me.

Ken didn't even pause. For the first time in over forty years, I got the impression that he didn't care about my health or well-being. "I'm pretty sure that Chelsea is wondering what the hell happened to Will. I busted him up pretty badly. I might have to go to jail if he decides to press charges. I actually hope he does try. I'll tell everyone who asks me, what was going on and why I beat his ass. I'm pretty sure that Chelsea will throw him out. You know that their place has been in her family for generations. He has no claim on it. He'll be out on his ass before nightfall."

"Ken you'll ruin their marriage," I said. "You know they have kids. And Will has a business to consider. In a small town like this one, he'd probably lose at least half of his customers. He's been your best friend since the two of you were in middle school. Why do you want to ruin his life?"

"He ruined mine first," he spat. "And while you're so busy worrying about everyone else's kids and families and jobs and feelings. Did you ever consider mine? What about my feelings? What about our son and his family?"

"Ken, I'm sorry if I hurt you," I said. "That was never my intention. I love you more than..."

"If you EVER say that again, I'll slap the teeth out of your head," he spat. The look on his face was completely serious. Ken had gone from completely calm to irate in a millisecond. His hatred and anger were coming off of him in waves. I realized then how badly I had hurt him. I also realized my mistake.

I had for most of my life taken Ken's love, and the fact that we would always be together for granted. I never considered that I might lose that love, or that he would doubt for a second the fact that I loved him more than anything else on earth. Things were getting worse by the second.

I needed to do something to calm him down before he went out and ruined a lot of lives in his pain.

What I needed to do was to make things as normal as possible to give him time to work through his anger. I left the bathroom and went downstairs to start making breakfast. It was nearly seven by then, and Matt and Kate would be getting up soon. I wanted to keep them in the dark about everything that had happened.

As it was, I met Kate on my way downstairs.

"Hi Mom," she said. Looking at her, I could see why my husband had a crush on her. My daughter in law is beautiful. But her beauty isn't so much outward. Kate is one of the sweetest people I've ever met. Matt must've done something extremely great in one of his previous lives to end up with a woman like her.

"You're up early, Sweetheart," I said.

"Yet, I've still failed in one of my goals, " she smiled. Kate had the type of smile that can light up a room.

"What have you decided were your goals?" I asked. "You're on vacation, remember?"

"I wanted to discover the secret of how you make those delicious pancakes so easily," she said. "But my first goal was to get my fat butt out of bed and go to run with Dad."

I laughed at that. If Kate's butt was fat, the rest of us had no shot. Her ass was round and perky. It was as close to perfect as you could get.

"Honey, I'm sure that dad would love to have you run with him. But you might want to warn him first, so he can get out of his normal mode. He goes out there, and runs like he's getting ready for a race. You probably don't want to run like that until you've done it a few times."

She smiled then. I could see the wheels turning in her head. She was thinking that she could easily keep up with a man in his sixties. The poor thing had no idea.

"I had the weirdest dream, Mom," she said. "I dreamed that Dylan was in trouble, and I couldn't get back to sleep."

While I was still reeling from what she'd just said, she continued.

"I just had this feeling that Dylan was facing down a big, mean old bear," she said. "Dylan was terrified and the bear was angry. It seemed so real."

"Did you go check on him to make sure he was okay?" I asked.

"Yep, he was in the kitchen," she smiled. "All that boy does is eat. I had to tell him to go back to his room and wait for breakfast."

Kate and I had been in the kitchen for less than five minutes when Ken came down. He walked into the kitchen and hugged Kate. He told her he loved her and told her to tell Matt the same thing. He wasn't dressed for work, so I was worried. I worried even more when he didn't say a single word to me.

A few moments later, I heard the hellacious roar of Ken's Mustang. I'm not sure if Ken's anger was forcing him to drive more aggressively, or if the car, as Ken and many of his Mustang loving friends claimed, reflected his mood. If the latter was true, my husband was angrier than he had ever been in life.

I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I was extremely turned on. How many sixty plus women could claim that a man loved her so much that he got insanely angry at the thought of her with someone else? How many sixty plus women could claim that their husband had beaten someone nearly to death over her?

On the other hand, I was afraid. This situation, though minor to me, had the potential to damage my family. It all depended on how I handled Ken. Thus far, my efforts at reasoning with him had failed miserably. A different tactic was called for.

Breakfast was subdued that morning. I made excuses by telling Matt and Kate that Ken had a meeting with a supplier who had come into town at the last minute. I told them that it might be a long meeting if the supplier was really unhappy. They seemed to buy it, especially Kate.

Dylan, on the other hand, seemed uncharacteristically subdued. He kept his face down and ate. Most of the time he just pushed his food around his plate. Finally, he asked to be excused and went back to his room.

"Don't worry Dilly," said Kate. "Your grandpa just had to work today. You'll have plenty of time with him." She just shook her head.

"That boy loves his grand dad," she said. "Oh ... he loves you too, Mom. But it would take something big to come between the two of them. It's a pretty special relationship. I wish he'd had half of that connection with MY dad before he passed away."

It was funny, Kate had a very sunny personality. As beautiful as she was on the outside, it paled against her inner beauty. She was little Mary sunshine, but her words, though meant to be reassuring, hurt me deeply. They only underscored another thing that had been ruined by my actions. Even if I did manage to hold things together, the relationship between my grandson and my husband would never be the same. No matter how you slice it. I had damaged my family with my selfishness.

After breakfast, Matt offered to take Dylan fishing. Dylan reluctantly agreed. Kate opted to tag along. I noticed that she took her iPad with her.

Surprisingly, they were back after only a couple of hours. The previous day, Ken and Dylan were gone the entire day.

"What happened?" I asked, "Aren't the fish biting?"

"Dylan didn't feel like fishing," said Ken. That set the tone for the rest of the day. When dinner time rolled around, and I hadn't heard from Ken, I got frantic. I had no idea what to say to the kids about why he wasn't there.

I called him. The phone seemed like it rang a hundred times before he answered it.

"What?" he asked. The tone of his voice told me that I was the last person on earth he wanted to talk to, and it hurt.

"When are you coming home?" I asked.

"Who said I was coming home?" he asked. My blooded went cold.

"Ken do we have to ruin Matt's vacation?" I asked. "Can't we just wait and deal with this when he's gone?"

"You're the one who caused all of this," he said. "Why didn't you think about that when you were sneaking guys into my garage and fucking them?"

"Ken we need to talk," I said. "Can you please come home?"

"Why would I want to come home? Besides, I'm working on giving you what you asked for," he said. "I'll probably be here for another hour. Is your grandson still there?"

"Yes, but Ken, you have to give me some time to get him out of here, I..." I began.

"I don't Have to give you anything," he said. "For forty years, I gave you everything you asked for. I gave you my heart, my body, my mind and all of my love and look at what it got me. "

The most terrifying part about the conversation was that he was no longer angry. If he had still been just venting his anger, I probably wouldn't have worried as much. But Ken was very calm, and he was speaking very casually. It was as if he had thought it all through and was simply telling me the facts he had derived from some sort of analysis or experiment.

Right after dinner, Ken got home. Matt and Kate ran to see him as soon as he came into the house. Dylan had already gone up to his room, complaining of not feeling well. I think I knew why he didn't feel well.

Ken sat down and spoke to Matt and Kate for a couple of hours. They talked about everything under the sun. I could tell that Ken was enjoying it. Kate asked about the picture we had on the mantle of Ken in a hospital gown with Matt on his knee.

Matt had been so young that he didn't remember the details. He just remembered that his dad had been a hero.

I remembered it though. And Ken had been a hero. A congenital defect ran in Ken's family. It tended to skip a generation and sometimes two, but when it struck, it was almost always fatal. Ken's brother had it. Ken had donated his bone marrow to his brother Ben in hopes of curing him.

The bone marrow transplant had been somewhat successful. It had given Ben another twenty or so years of life before the disease, a form of cancer, struck back with a vengeance.

As I watched Ken talking to Matt and Kate, I realized that I just had to be patient. Ken would always do what was best for the people he loved. He would eventually forgive both Dylan and me. It was just the way he was made.

Maybe an hour after that, Matt and Kate went to their room, and Ken came into ours. He was still dressed and barely even glanced at me.

"I just need to get a few things," he said. "I'll sleep in the..."

"We need to have a talk," I said forcefully. I had decided that the best way to handle him was to be direct and authoritative. The way I used to deal with school boys who couldn't share the toys, back when I was a school teacher.

Ken just looked at me. "Ken, we've been married for over forty years," I said. "We've been through good times and bad, but we've always been able to work out our problems. This isn't going to be any different. You stormed off this morning without even giving us the chance to talk about what happened. I think I deserve that much at least. You're supposed to be the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. We're married for God's sake. I think I deserve more than that."

"And I think I deserve more than to be married to the town whore," he spat. At least, he kept his voice down this time. "How long have you been fucking my friends? How many of them are there?"

"Ken, you have to give me a chance to explain this," I said. "It really isn't what you think."

He sat down on the edge of the bed as far away from me as he could get. "I'm not contagious," I said. "You can't get a disease from me. Only yesterday you loved touching me."

His not wanting to touch me or be near me hurt me badly.

"Yesterday, I didn't know I was married to a slut," he spat. "Yesterday, I didn't know my best friend was stabbing me in the back. Wait until I have my talk with Chelsea."

"I thought you were going to let me explain," I said calmly. He just sat back on the bed, edging even further away from me.

"Go ahead, I don't have all night," he said.

"Ken, you were the first and until this all started, only person I had sex with. When we first started, it was scary, and I never told you this but it kind of hurt. I actually only did it because you loved it so much, and I loved you, so I put up with it. It took a while, but it became pleasurable for me too. There were times when my desire for it spiked or ebbed, but I always enjoyed the feelings of being close to you.

It all changed when I hit my late forties or early fifties. Ken, I got to the point where I pretty much hated sex. You were great. You never pushed me or tired to force me. And you never complained. Slowly, things started to go back to normal and that's when the problems began. It had gotten to the point where I knew all of your moves. I could literally predict how you would touch me and where. It just became routine. I guess in a way it was boring, and I wanted more from sex than that. There was also the fact that you were getting older, and I just wanted it more.

Ken there were nights when you would give me everything you had, don't get me wrong, you did a good job; I came, but I just wanted more. I was becoming frustrated, and I didn't know how to tell you. I love you more than anything on the planet, so I didn't want to hurt your feelings. I just needed more.

I ran into Will and found out that he was having the opposite situation with Chelsea. She and I are the same age, but we're almost opposites. She no longer has any desire for sex at all. He told me that he was lucky if he got some twice a year.

One thing led to another and ... well here we are. You should know, Honey; Will isn't in any way better than you are. He's just different. I don't have any feelings for him. He was never going to replace you; we don't even kiss. I know it sounds cliché, but you and I make love. Will and I just fuck.

And Dylan, well Dylan caught us together. He threatened to tell you, unless I gave him some too. And again he was different from Will. He's wilder and younger and gave me the opportunity to try the three-way thing. But Ken you have to know none of this was ever was as important to me as our marriage. It's just a phase I'm going through.