Out of Focus Pt. 03

First of all, Alicia had to learn about the threat that her own body posed to her in the form of genetically-related cervical cancer down the line. Additionally, since, in this time line, she was still just a sophomore at Scott, she had not yet been set up by her family to marry Asshole Frank Deal-that would not come about until her senior year. I had to make sure that Alicia was not condemned to an abusive situation, even if I could not work out something for her and me.

In any event, I could not sit idly by and let disaster fall on Alicia; the only girl-I now realized-that I had ever truly loved in my life. I had to try something!

****

"What the hell do you want, you little shit?"

I had plopped down with my coffee directly across from Alicia and her books and laptop at the table on the patio of the student coffee bar on campus. I had checked on her schedule in a roundabout way the week before so that I would be able to catch her without the pressure of classes so that I could speak with her.

"Alicia," I began, "I am not here to fight with you."

"Well, I don't have anything to say to you; and I definitely have no desire to be around you at all. So," she started gathering her things, "if you are not going to leave, then I will."

"Sit still and listen to me for a moment," I said, using an irritated tone and a raised voice that I had never used before with anyone; much less, this girl with whom I was still emotionally attached. "I need for you to hear me out. It is literally a matter of life and death!"

Alicia paused and sat back, crossing her arms and giving me a nod to continue, even though she carried a look combining skepticism and disdain.

"During one of Francine's OB/GYN appointments, she learned that she may have a genetic predisposition to certain types of cancers," I told her. I had to lie a tiny bit about its coming from Francine; although I was pretty certain that Alicia would not make an attempt to verify my claim by checking with her sister. Alicia and Francine had basically written each other off after that terrible night when Alicia had caught her sister naked in bed with Alicia's supposed boyfriend-me. "I simply wanted to pass this on to you so that you could mention it to your primary care physician or your gynecologist the next time that you have an appointment. That's all. Will you please do this for me?"

"Why should I do anything for you, you sonofabitch?" Alicia spat at me.

"You shouldn't, I guess," I acknowledged, surprising her a bit. "But, at least, do it for yourself. I kinda get the impression from just about everyone I meet that he or she does not want to die anytime too early in life. May I assume that is true for you as well?"

Alicia looked away from me, but did not say anything. Well, at least I had tried. "I'll be going now," I said to her. "Just remember always, despite what has happened with your sister and all, I still love you."

Alicia did not acknowledge my comment with anything more than a glare. But, it did seem that some of the hard edge was coming off that glare as I stood to leave.

****

It took a couple of weeks after my 'return' to get to the fourth thing on my list. Well, I guess it was a combination of four A and four B, since it involved the same appointment that I had made as soon as I had contacted Alicia about getting a cancer screening.

I hired a PI!

"Let me get this straight," Leon Atwater, the private investigator, asked me. "You want me to watch your wife to see if she is cheating on you. And you want me to build a file on this Deal guy. You think she is cheating on you with him?"

"No, no," I answered. "I think she is cheating, but with someone else; a fellow named Steadman Carstairs. I have other reasons for asking you to build a dossier on Frank Deal."

"You know it's a-gonna cost ya a bit; right?" he asked as he lifted his eyebrows a bit.

"I understand," I responded. "But this is important to me. Both investigations are important to me in the long run."

Yep! I was checking on Francine's activities, especially when she was not with me. That included when she was traveling on business or whenever she went 'out with the girls from work' or for any other activities that did not include me.

But, I was also trying to get a clearer picture of Frank Deal. In that manner, maybe-just maybe-I could keep Alicia from being tied to that asshole. I did NOT want the woman I still loved-and I don't mean my 'loving' wife-married to an abusive bastard!

****

It only took a couple of months to get the reports back from the PI. NO! I could not afford the cost of their time for the whole period. They only charged for the time they actually spent when they were not waiting for something to develop with Carstairs and Deal. And the whole period had involved a considerable amount of waiting between events.

Yes, as it turned out, Francine was spending quite a bit of extra time in the company of Steadman Carstairs whenever he was in town. And it appeared that he had been to town at least three times over the past six weeks. And, in those times when he was here, he evidently had spent 'intimate' time with Francine; I had been at home watching Chelsea on those evenings after the nanny had left.

This simply pissed me off on a basic level!

I mean; sure, Francine and I, for all intents and purposes, just existed together as a married couple. Nevertheless, Carstairs had no business interfering in my marriage. After all, regardless of how I felt about Francine, I still had Chelsea to consider. And I knew that my daughter's welfare was best served by being raised in an environment of an intact family-with both her Mommy and her Daddy-and that was me; her REAL Daddy, regardless of who had inseminated Francine with her.

Therefore, I had to shut 'Stud Man' Carstairs down somehow. It still rankled my memory of my 'other' existence in which I had heard Francine refer to her lover by that stupid nickname.

The PI had been really thorough in checking out Carstairs, as the correspondent in the affair with Francine. After all, Leon Atwater was charging me for enough information to build an air-tight case for a countersuit against my wife for adultery, if it came to her trying to divorce me. In doing that, Leon needed to give me details about the guy she was screwing. After all, I would probably be launching an alienation of affection suit against the sonofabitch as part of my countersuit.

I read in Leon's report the account of how Steadman Carstairs had begun dating a girl at Wellesley College shortly after my marriage to Francine, while Carstairs was attending graduate school at Harvard for the MBA program. He had later married the girl after getting her pregnant and being forced to the altar by her Irish-gang-related daddy.

I smiled as I thought about what Carstairs' wife's 'Daa' would think about his son-in-law's running around on his daughter.

"Hey, Leon," I said into my phone, after the niceties of greetings, "do you think you could get a copy of the report on Carstairs and my wife sent to the big guy in Boston without his finding out the source? I would not want this to come back on me."

"You know that this guy is connected up there, don't you?" asked Leon. "And if he gets hold of this report, I pity this Carstairs guy when his father-in-law finds out about his-how should we characterize it-'extracurricular activities' when he is on the road."

"Yeah," I said with a grin, "that would be terrible if something bad were to happen to Carstairs because of his wife's daddy wanting to beat the shit out of him; wouldn't it?" I paused and then said, "See to it; will ya?"

Leon chuckled and said for me to consider it done. I hung up the phone and figured that Steadman Carstairs was facing a bad divorce, at the very least; and a massive ass-whuppin', at most.

As for Frank Deal, I thanked Leon for his report on that ass wipe as well. It seems that Frank had already begun to show his true colors even before he had graduated from Georgia Southern, in Statesboro, just the year before.

Frank Deal had been arrested for possession of cocaine and his family had pulled some strings to keep him from having an adult felony arrest record, but it had been close. He also had been accused, on at least two other occasions, of swinging his fist at his then-girlfriend during instances when he had been drinking heavily at fraternity parties-connecting only once.

I asked Leon to hold onto this report, as I knew that it would not have the desired effect of breaking up the plan that J. Carter Thompson might have to try to play matchmaker with Deal and Alicia until another year or so.

I hung up the phone and smiled to myself as I thought about how things were coming together quite nicely in this time line. I fingered the Nasiib stone on my bracelet-but I did not rub it!

I was feeling quite a bit more decisive in this incarnation of my life, and I found that feeling to be very satisfying. I had already prepared to take Thompson down whenever I felt it might be necessary, or whenever I might feel threatened; or feel that my family was threatened.

I had evidence on my 'loving' wife's infidelity; and had taken steps-hopefully-to remove the intrusion of at least one of her lovers, even if I did know about any others at this time; or from any time before now.

Additionally, I had tried to take care of the one woman in this world for whom I actually carried around a feeling of real love-Alicia. I had warned her about the coming cancer potential. And I had set things in motion to keep her from ending up married to an idiot wife-beater.

I was in that 'place of peace' that some future Mookie guy had described to me in another existence. Life was good!

And then it wasn't!

****

I was in Chattanooga when the call came in from Leon.

I had been in meetings all day, with my cell phone turned off. When I finally turned it on to check messages, I noted six missed calls from Leon.

This had me curious, as my business with Leon was basically in the wrap-up phase of things. Why could he be calling me now; and so often in one afternoon?

Instead of checking voicemail, I hit the contact dialer on my Smartphone for Leon's number to talk to him directly.

"Thank God! Lou, why don't you keep your phone turned on?" Leon asked, obviously disconcerted.

"Well, Leon, I do have a life, ya know, and that includes my job. Today, my job had me in important meetings all afternoon," I answered, surprised at Leon's obvious agitation.

"Okay. But you need to know something, and it could be urgent. You need to be sure to keep your wife away from that Carstairs guy for the next day or two," Leon said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, suddenly concerned.

"I mean that Southie bastard in Boston got the report you had me send him," Leon revealed to me as I approached my car and hit the key fob to unlock it. "But, evidently, instead of putting the hurt on Carstairs there in Boston, he sent two guys from his previous life-if you know what I mean-to follow Carstairs to Atlanta and deal with him here! My guys in Boston say that they are even flying down on the same plane with Carstairs today; and it is scheduled to get into ATL at about five-thirty!"

Francine! Chelsea!

If Steadman Carstairs were to go to my place-especially since I was not scheduled to be back from Chattanooga for another two days-my wife and daughter could also be in danger if those two Irish gangsters tried to deal with my wife's lover at our condo!

Shit! It was already three-forty-five!

As I peeled out of the parking lot, heading for I-75, I called the PA for my department chief at Thompson Corporation. It was evidently too late for anyone still to be hanging around the office, because the call went to voicemail; so I left a message, telling them that I had to return home for a family emergency.

I tried calling the condo to warn Francine, but either I could not get a cell signal along the way or else the call went to voicemail in those few times when I could get through.

It was already getting dark when I hit the Perimeter on the North Side of Atlanta near the Galleria.

Shit! Traffic at the end of the work day in Atlanta was just as bad as it usually was; but it seemed much worse to me now. I was frantic to get to my condo and try to protect my family-dysfunctional as it may be.

I may not be 'in love' with Francine, but I still loved her in the way of any husband for the woman who bore a child that he had raised as his own; and with whom he had been intimate for almost two years-even if that intimacy had been limited by the wife to plain vanilla sex with condoms the whole time.

I did not want to see her harmed-or worse-and I did not want Chelsea to be anywhere close to that kind of situation!

I did not pull into the parking lot to my condo until after seven-thirty. I was dismayed to see a strange car already there in my space, right next to Francine's. It was obviously a rental; and probably the one being used by Steadman Carstairs.

It took me only a matter of about twenty seconds to park my own car in the space reserved for my most asshole-ish neighbor. Tough shit! I had more pressing matters to deal with.

Instead of rushing in to warn the two cheaters about what might be coming their way, I pulled out my phone to call. Now, I got four bars; if only she would answer instead of letting the machine pick up!

I know; I was supposed to have a bit more courage now than in my previous 'life.' But, on the drive down from Chattanooga, I had decided that, if they were in the act of fucking at my place, I simply did not want to see it. Knowing about it is one thing; seeing it and having that image burned into your brain-especially when you were trying your best to keep the family intact until your child was older-was another thing entirely.

"Hello, Lou," said the matter-of-fact voice of Francine. She must have been upset at my calling her while her 'Stud Man' was with her, but she was trying to stay calm. "What's up?" No 'Honey' or 'Sweetheart;' just, 'What's up?' Man, how this marriage had deteriorated!

"Francine," I said with a force to my voice that I had never used with her, "listen to me and do not argue."

"Louis, don't talk to me that ..." was as far as she got before I unloaded on her.

"God damn it, Frankie," I had not called her that for a long time, as she hated it and only let her father get away with it. "Shut the fuck up and just listen for a change!"

When I heard her say quietly, "Okay, Lou. What has you so excited?" I told her.

"You need to get Chelsea and get in your car and visit your mother ... right now! This minute!" I told her.

"Louis, what are you talking about? I can't just walk out with Chelsea and go to Mother's. I would need to pack a diaper bag and a change of clothes for her and ..."

"Francine!" I shouted at her to get her just simply to shut up. Then I took a breath and let the moment of truth descend on us both. "There are two men who are probably coming to our condo right at this moment; and they have nothing but bad intentions. Don't ask me how I know; just trust me. These are really bad men. I need for you and Chelsea to leave; right now!"

"What do you mean two men; and coming to our condo? Louis, have you...?" That's as far as she got before I lowered the boom.

"They are not coming to our condo for you or me," I said.

Then I told her with as much ice in my voice as I could muster, "They are coming for Steadman!"

There was a pause of about five seconds with no sound from either end of the phone conversation.

"What ... who ... you mean Steadman Carstairs?" Francine stammered. "But why would ...he lives in Boston. You know that, and ..."

"God damn it, Francine! Regardless what you may think, I am not that dumb!" I told her tersely. "Now you get Chelsea and get your ass out of there before you get hurt as part of the collateral damage. I don't give a shit one way or another what happens to Ass Wipe, there. But I want my wife and daughter safe. Now, get your ass in gear! Do you hear me?"

I thought I heard a sob, but it may have been simply a gulp. Then I heard Francine-for the first time in our married life together say-MEEKLY-"Yes, Louis." Then she hung up.

I had not felt the need to tell her that I was parked downstairs. It really did not matter. I just felt the need to be there and to keep watch, I guess.

And I did watch, as my wife's erstwhile lover bolted from the shadows of the building to his rental and got out of there in a hurry. With that, I breathed a little easier, but did not relax all the way. After all, Francine and Chelsea had still not appeared-my God; why does it take so much time and effort to get an infant or a toddler ready to go some place?

Another dark rental pulled into the lot and parked in my space-the space that Steadman Carstairs had just vacated. Two large men got out of the car and looked around.

Oh, my God! They were here!

They must have lost contact with Carstairs in the rush-hour traffic and had simply come here, based on the information in the report!

Francine! Chelsea! Shit!

I hit the trunk release, pulled the door open, and hurried up and out of the car. Running around to the now-open trunk I looked inside and found the tire iron. Then I turned toward where the two men were now standing in front of their car, conversing before entering my condo.

I hurled the tire iron at the rear wind screen of their rental and watched as it hit with a major 'Smack,' leaving a massive star pattern in the now ruined safety glass.

"Looking for me, you Mick bastards?" I yelled. Maybe in the dark they would believe that Carstairs was their assailant and I could divert them from going into the condo with Francine and Chelsea. Given their mindset, that would not be too hard for them to believe.

I saw them reach inside their coats and produce handguns as they turned toward where I had been standing.

'Had been,' being the operative term, for I was now hot-footing it out of the parking lot!

I glanced over my shoulder once to see them take chase on foot, following the sounds of my footfalls when they could not see me through the landscaping around the condos. I turned to look forward and just tried to continue running.

After about two minutes of running down the sidewalk, with their running steps right behind me, I heard the squeal of tires and the roar of a car engine. Then, I saw Francine's Subaru flash by me. I was between street lights at the time, so I am sure that she would not have seen me, even if she were on the lookout for me-which, in her terror of the moment, I was quite sure that she wasn't.

I turned the corner at the next street and tried to cut through the next set of condos, looking for somewhere that I might use as a hiding place to keep from getting hurt or shot by the two thugs pursuing me.

I settled for a dumpster that I encountered. I pushed the sliding opening closed using friction, since the handle was on the outside; then I settled down in order not to move or make noise.

Wow! Coffee grounds, egg shells, used cat litter, and carrot peels! What a wonderful combination of smells and textures! Nevertheless, I was too busy trying to get my loud and heavy breathing under control to worry about dumpster ambiance.

Then I heard the two guys moving among the dumpsters. I could hear them sliding the openings open as they moved in my direction.

They must have figured that the dumpsters were the only hiding places available and were systematically checking! Okay! Panic Time!

The only recourse open to me was that damned stone ... NO ... I meant that 'blessed' stone, if it could get me out of this mess!