One Wife Too Many

"Forget it," he offered. "We all make mistakes," he added soothingly as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the curb leading to Buffalo gap. Before pulling onto the street, he strained his neck past the oak tree that partially blocked his view. The sight of a silver Lexus barrelling passed him sent shivers of fear roaring along his spine. It was Stacie's father, out for a drive, maybe doing some shopping or buying yet another toy for Marcie. John now realized just how stupid he had been, taking a chance at being seen with this strange black woman, kissing in public.

He waited for the Lexus to round a corner and out of sight. He was grateful for the large century old oak tree that shielded his car from being seen easily. Obviously Stacie's dad hadn't spotted him. Or he would have stopped to ask what was up if he had. It was hours and hours since he'd dropped off Marcie.

"There's even more to you than I first suspected," she said, reaching up with anxious grateful lips that pecked at his cheek stubble yet once again.

"Perhaps one day I'll do something that really pisses you off and then it'll be me that has to apologize."

She was amazed at how easily he had changed from anger to sweetness. Being so forgiving would bode well for any future they had together, cause she knew in her heart of hearts, that despite what she had said about never snooping again, she really was an extremely curious and inquisitive person.

"Piss me off how?"

"Pardon?"

She snuggled closer, nestling into his forgiving shoulder then kissing the sexy light stubble on his cheek. "Piss me off how? You said that perhaps one day you might do something that really pisses me off then it will be your turn to apologize."

"God only knows," he said, adding a shrug. "Hopefully nothing too serious."

"Hopefully not," she agreed. "Tell me again what it is you do for a living?" she asked.

He chuckled as he pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the street, going north and veering off into the far lane so he might be ready for the turn just up ahead. "I'm sure you asked me already a dozen times what I did for a living and I'm sure I told you. It's almost as if you're trying to match up my stories, maybe hoping to catch me in a lie. You still don't think I'm a liar or a player do you? I was hoping we were passed such suspicions."

His words horrified her. She certainly was no longer trying to catch him in a lie. And she was profusely smitten with grief over having upset him and deliriously happy he was so understanding and forgiving, willing to give her another chance and to keep helping her out with her car. "Sorry if I came across like that," she said. "I now honestly think you're the real deal. I only like hearing your voice is all, and also, cause I got carried away staring into your eyes so much, I may not have, at times, heard what you were saying. Also, we talked for so long and discussed so much that I think I forgot half of it. You said you were a writer of sorts, I think?"

"Romance novels," he said.

"A man writing romance novels? How unique."

"Not as unique as you might think."

"I beg to differ," she said. "I can't recall ever seeing a man's name on a romance novel or love story. Erotic novels maybe, but-"

He laughed, interrupting her sentence in mid stride. "We don't use our own names, silly. Women hate men that try to pass themselves off as respectable romance writers. Women writers always take their time, developing characters and working out nifty, catchy storylines. Whereas the male writers just have all this down and dirty sex jumping at you. Women can usually tell the difference after the first few pages, although, if we men copy the women's style hard enough and long enough, we can sometimes fool them, and earn big bucks doing it as well. It's a challenge to be sure, but a fun challenge."

"Oh look, you missed the turnoff."

"So I did. Let me turn around...and...here we are, back on track again."

After only a few yards down the new street, and the rusted sign of one of the few repair shops in the county stared back at them. Old lawn mowers and rusting hulks of cars, scavenged mercilessly over the years for parts, littered the sides of the garage.

He pulled parallel to one of the bays and then got out, almost jogging around to the other side of the car to open the door for her.

His actions, once again, made her feel special and exhilarated. She wasn't used to a guy holding open doors for her.

As she got out of the car, old Mike Fodder moved quickly out of the glass door and limped over to see her.

He clasped her hand and shook it.

"My helper, Ben Tyler towed you in a while back. Well I been lookin' 'er over and even done hooked her up to Old Betsy, that's my analyzer. Imagine my surprise when it told me straight out that this 'ere is a powertrain problem Now the way your engine sits atop prit near everything, the only way to get at it to be sure is to take the darn thing apart. Luckily for you," he said, offering a mood lightening laugh. "That if I do take 'er apart for you, then I also know 'ow ta puts 'er back together agin. Not boastin or anythin' mind you, just explainin' ow things is, is all."

"Powertrain?" Cassie said timidly. "What is that, like a starter or an alternator?"

"No ma'am. Powertrain runs the show. Yours is prit near dead as a door nail."

Cassie began to formulate a sweat across her brow. "Surely you can fix it? How much? How long?"

"Well now, I won't lie to you," he asserted. "Wouldn't do me much good to lie either, on account of I'm a Christian and all liars, according to the good book is gonna end up in the lake of fire. But even if I was ta lie, ya know, jus' 'a make things a far sight easy 'pon ya, sooner or later I'd have ta come clean. Whew, 'avin' said all that," he declared, pausing to pop a fresh wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth without even spitting out the old one, making his right cheek all puffy and swollen. "Think yer lookin' at, well, at least three thousand on the upside, but could be as much as four thousand or more once I git 'er all apart. They, as you know, don't make this model sport's car no more, and the parts is crazy expensive, and dat's even if ya kin gits 'em, but I know a guy up in Albuquerque, dat's New Mexico way, what's real good at findin' such hard ta find parts. But the powertrain I gotta order, and like I say, on dis model, dats why the price is so darn high, double a regular vehicle. I'll need a few days, but as for price, since you done grew up in dis 'ere town-"

"You recognize me?"

He nodded then pointed a finger at her nose. "Your Mable's child. The resemblance is prit near uncanny, the first black family in this county going back, wow, eighty years I suspect?"

"That's right. I'm surprised you recognized me."

"Naw, not so surprisin' really. You done graduated the same year my grandson Toby did. Yer in his old high school year book, right next ta 'im."

Cassie laughed. "Short, fat freckled faced boy with flaming red hair, am I right?"

"Dat would be the one."

"Wow, it certainly brings back memories. Why he used to put dead frog parts down my dress neckline in science dissection class and scare the bejabbers out of me."

"Boys will be boys," Mike replied. He then looked at John, and squinted his eyes as in deep in thought.

"You, I also know, 'xcept yer a might harder to place. "Don't think ya grew up in dese 'ere parts but ya all knows a family out 'ere, can't says as 'ow I remember, oh yeah, some fourth of July day picnic, I think?"

Mike let his words just dangle in mid-air so that John might simply fill in the blanks.

Cassie looked upon the man she was starting to fall for and fully expected him to fill in those blanks.

John was suddenly in a full blown panic. He had been to Stacie's parent's house for Fourth of July parties and so obviously Mike had been at one or more of them. If Mike should remember who he was and that he was married to Stacie then all would be lost. John had also so very foolishly allowed his mind to go completely blank. Mike's words had shocked him so much, he could no longer remember so much as even one word about what he had said to Cassie concerning why he had come Tuscola, and whether or not he had any roots there. His mother had always warned him that telling one lie simply meant you had to keep on telling many more lies later on to keep covering your tracks, only now, he couldn't even remember what the hell those tracks were. What had he said to Cassie about why he was in the small town of Tuscola in the first place? He decided to switch strategies, and put everyone's minds back onto the problem that was looming front and center. And that was Cassie's car repairs.

"Getting back to her car," John managed. "Are you certain it's the powertrain?"

"As sure as dat's a wasp nest what's always buzzing round our house 'n scarin' the stuffin' out of our dog Jasper."

"You remember Jasper, don't ya?" Mike said to Cassie. "Big German Sheppard, light black, almost silvery."

"Can't say I recall it," she said, suddenly worried over just how much money she had in the bank to cover such costly repairs. She wondered if Mike might give her some credit. She had stalled talking about it cause she didn't want John to hear. She still had her pride.

"Back to the car," John begged, almost in a whine, anxious to get the hell out of there before Mike's senile memory could possibly be jogged into coughing up the missing Fourth of July pieces.

"I'll need a deposit of sorts. Maybe a thousand. My guys 's good, real good, but they don't work cheap. The balance of two thousand when it's finished three or four days from now. But, as I said, cause yer prit near family 'n all, knock off five hundred, so yer only owing after deposit fifteen hundred. The fellas up by Houston way can manage a powertrain for dis vehicle, but as I say, very expensive for dis 'ere model. If ah run inta any more problems along the way, I'll need a number where I kin reach ya."

Cassie pulled out a business card for her antique shop in Dallas and slipped it into his hand. A sign saying "no credit allowed" screamed at her from the outside sign over his garage.

Cassie was in a full blown panic. She had, maybe, eight hundred in her savings, another five hundred on her business line of credit account, and maybe four hundred fifty on her master card. All told, even with the one fifty in her purse, a grand total of nineteen hundred dollars. Her heart sank. First of the month was coming up and a part of that she would need for the mortgage payment on her one bedroom condo back in Dallas. She had already tapped her parents for so much help in the past and they were tight as it was, but sometimes they were able to pull rabbits out of a hat.

"Would you take a check for the thousand?"

"Let's say we just put it on my card," John said, sensing her vulnerability, and knowing that Mike was not about to play with potential rubber.

A look of shock, embarrassment and relief washed across her face all at once. He was going to put a thousand on his card for her? But at what cost? Still, she had explained her 'I'm not an easy girl' philosophy to him ad nauseam, and so if he was angling for sexual favors, he was angling in the wrong place. Still, she was between a rock and a hard place, so as long as he remembered that she didn't put out early on in a relationship, then she didn't see the harm. He had been coming across all day as a sweet, generous, caring guy, and so the idea he'd want to help out a potential fiancé in need, didn't seem all that far-fetched, especially when he had expressed a desire to start dating her in earnest.

"Fine by me," Mike said, reaching for his card, "a thousand it is."

"No, no, no," John spat out indignantly. "You said two thousand, five hundred was the total, put it all on it."

Mike's eyes lit up but Cassie's were awash with humiliation and apprehension. "No, John, I...I...couldn't accept it," she blurted out in a panic. "Honestly I wouldn't feel right."

The name John didn't seem to ring a bell with Mike as he glanced at the card, and so he prayed and hoped the full name John Haskin wouldn't ring any bells either."

"Go ahead," he instructed Mike, "put the whole twenty-five on there. If you find anything extra then just add that later to the same number. If they call me to verify, I'll approve it, not to worry."

"Works fer me," Mike said, scampering off to his office, gold card in hand.

Cassie turned and planted a kiss onto his face. "I don't know what to say," she said, trembling.

"Think nothing of it. If and when you get the money, you can pay me back, but otherwise, consider it a gift from someone that cares. We're going to be friends, so what's a few dollars between friends?"

"You call at least twenty-five hundred bucks, a few dollars?"

"Well, I see your point, but you have to understand, I make more than that on some days. So what's a fortune to someone else might be peanuts to me."

She kissed him once more on the cheek.

"Look you stay here. I'm gonna go and talk a little to Mike, then I'll drive you back to Dallas."

"I could catch a bus," she said. "I feel so guilty. You've done so much for me already."

"That's what friends are for," he exclaimed. "Besides, fate has brought us together for a reason. If we are meant to be with each other than we've both got to get used to the idea that what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine. That's how relationship and marriages work."

"That almost sounds like a proposal," she said, "although me accepting something like that would be a month or two away, at least. There is just so much I don't know about you."

"And I about you. But if we can keep on seeing each other, hopefully we can cross every bridge and conquer every island in our path."

"Said like a true romance novelist, really heart touching, although somewhat corny."

"I never said I was a great romance novelist. Just a successful one. For me, it's all about the money and the amount of books people buy, not about the art of writing."

"To go back to the subject of the car," she said. "I need it understood that I intend to pay you back, every penny."

"Well, if it means that much to you, why don't we just say that you'll pay me back a hundred a month for twenty-five months. If you give me a blank check I could instruct my bank to just transfer the hundred each month from your account to mine, and then, before you know it, you would have paid me back.

Her eyes lit up at the prospect. "Something like that would be wonderful, so easy to manage, and in the end, you would get your money back and I wouldn't feel indebted."

She rummaged through her purse, found her check book, then tore off the check on top and handed it to him, adding "thanks," as she did so.

"Of course you are going to let me drive you back to Dallas I hope?"

She giggled. "I hadn't planned on walking, but I could take the bus if it is too much trouble, although honestly, you driving me back would be nice, because it would give us a chance to keep talking and get to know each other so much better."

"Sounds like a great idea," he added. He was about to open his mouth and say something more. She sensed it was bound to be yet another monumental compliment, but he held his peace. She supposed he was trying not to overdo it, although the horse named compliments had already gone through the barn door a long time ago.

XXX

The bright neon lights of Dallas were now in view, and since she lived on its outskirts, at just the next upcoming turnoff, he lamented the fact that their time together, at least for the day, was coming to a close.

"When will I see you again?" she whispered grimly, not wanting to part company with him as he veered off the highway ramp leading to the service road and the small ensemble of tree named streets to which her condo belonged, namely, the one called Maple.

After a couple of minutes he noted the sign heralding Maple street then asked her, "right or left?"

"Left," she said, her heart thumping over the sudden thought that she could ask him in for coffee. Only she didn't trust herself. His charm was irresistible, and his ultra-sweet kisses a recipe for disaster in the unplanned sex department. She wasn't about to take any chances that she might get carried away. She was determined to stick to her guns that any lovemaking would only come after at least a full month or two of dating, preferably two months.

"I'd invite you in for coffee, but coffee can lead to so many other things, especially at this late hour."

"You must think I'm far too sexy to resist, so I'll take that as a compliment," he said, pulling into her driveway, the one marked sixty-eight.

She waited for him to turn off the engine, then planted a ferociously sweet kiss onto his mouth, sending shivers of pleasure into both their bodies. She also let her upper body draw close, and he could feel her impressive breasts press against his t-shirt.

As she pulled away, her hand accidentally rested against that same skimpy t-shirt, and she marvelled at how sensual his rippling stomach muscles felt. He was very buff, and very much the hunk. But she hung on to her conviction that, just like he said earlier in the day, good things came to those that waited. If they were indeed still seeing each other when the appropriate time came, then she would explore every nook and cranny of his fabulous body, and take her time making sweet and passionate love to him all night long, but until that reality might come, all she would be left with for now, was the fantasy.

"Thanks for all you have done for me," she said. "You're a really sweet and thoughtful guy."

"Wait till you really get to know me," he boasted coyly. "Anyways, you have my cell number and email and skype addresses."

"And you have mine," she said. "Call me the second you get in and we can chat."

"Does that mean you haven't gotten tired of me yet?"

"No, and if you are who you say you are, I doubt I ever will."

"You still don't trust me?" he whined.

"I do trust you," she said. "I'll admit I was a little apprehensive at first, but now I do trust you, and I really like you too. That much is certain."

XXX

By the time John reached home he was feeling bone tired, yet elated. Cassie was easily one of the sexiest and most gorgeous women he had ever met. And her personality was super sweet. It suddenly dawned on him that he was thrilled by the companionship she afforded him. Things with Stacie had become decidedly stale, but with Cassie they were fresh and exciting. He mulled over the consequences of his nonetheless foolish actions. Sooner or later, if he didn't stop seeing Cassie, then all hell would certainly break loose. Cassie knew everybody in the home town of Stacie's parents, and John was still slated to go up there on holidays and to drop off Marcie for visits.

He gazed from his penthouse balcony up at the stars. He had decided to go to his downtown office to sleep, and not home. Seeing pictures of Marcie and Stacie splashed over the walls would merely remind him that what he was doing was both cruel and wrong. If he was tired of Stacie, then he should just up and tell her, and ask for a divorce. Why put her through the hell of finding out some other way? On the other hand, he could simply stop seeing Cassie, and break the damn relationship off in the bud before it had a chance to blossom into something really dangerous. Still, his own logic was making himself sick. Marriage was supposed to be about commitment. Marriage vows like 'for better or worse,' were supposed to taken seriously, not simply tossed aside whenever one partner 'tired' of the other, or simply didn't feel like trying any longer. And then there was his precious daughter Marcie, who thought the world of him. Where was she supposed to fit in all his adulterous plans? Or was she merely to be a casualty of war, simply to be shunted aside like some toy or plaything he no longer cared about. It was his daughter for heaven's sakes! But even if he did have the courage to just up and ask for a divorce, what about the unfairness of it all to Stacie herself? He had already cheated on her once, and the devastating effect had broken her heart so thoroughly and shattered her mind so savagely that she ended up in an asylum for a while. It was only his constant assurances he would never do it again and the daily visits from her worried, loving parents that eventually snapped her out of it. She was still on shaky ground, and to find him cheating again would most certainly push her off a deep end so badly next time that she would undoubtedly never come out of it.