Pancakes and Shopping Trips

Pancakes and Shopping Trips ....... And ne'er the two shall meet

We had a Saturday morning ritual in our house. My wife went shopping and I cooked pancakes.

She hated them and I didn't so I cooked them on Saturday mornings when I could relax and enjoy them while she was shopping.

It was almost 11:00 and I was standing at the stove cooking when the heart attack struck and I fell to the ground. I was down long enough for the pancakes to burn and set off the smoke alarm, which in turn alerted my neighbor who in turn found me and called 911.

When I awakened the next day in the hospital, I was connected to a myriad of wires and tubes. I had survive "The Widowmaker".

I was told that if you're fortunate enough to survive a heart attack of that type, recovery is slower than with other types of attacks. I was also told that it was common to have mental health side effects. For example, onemay experience anger, irritability, fear, insomnia, feelings of guilt, and hopelessness as well as other feelings and emotions.

Depression was a major problem for me.

When they finally released me, I was happy to be going home. Our den, which was on the first floor of our house, had been converted into a room for me. My wife, JT, and I used it as a den, but it was really an extra bedroom with its own full bath.

My name is Benjamin Fredericks. We called my wife JT, but he name was Joanie Teresa Fredericks, nee Wilkerson and we had been married six years at the time of my heart attack. I am the manager of one of the branches of a major bank. I started working there as a loan officer right after graduating from college, and had worked my way up. If the bank had a fast track for promotions and assignments, I must have been on it because I was named branch manager several years before most others.

I met JT when she came in to apply for a loan for a house she wanted to buy. She was in real estate and ran across a house that was a very good deal, so she decided to buy it for herself.

Both JT and I were, and still are, pretty average in the looks department. We differed, however, in personalities. While I tended to be businesslike and somewhat formal, she was gregarious and fun loving. I stress the fun loving because she definitely enjoyed life. not that I didn't, but our definitions of fun differed somewhat. My idea was a nice quiet evening at home, while her definition was a nice, loud boisterous evening surrounded by friends, food, and drinks.

I enjoyed the occasional party, but JT made a fine art out of it.

Over the years, we'd managed to strike a balance and both of us were pleased with our lives. That all changed with the heart attack.

I had been in the hospital almost a month and home a week when JT came in and started making sexual overtures. She reached under my sheet and started playing with my dick.

"When is he going to be ready to play?" she asked.

"I don't know. Soon I hope," I said. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," JT said.

That became a daily thing with us. While she was gone during the day, I would play with myself trying to get hard, but try as I might I couldn't.

She would sometimes pull the sheet off me and take me in her mouth trying to help me. She would also stand naked in front of me and play with herself. All to no avail.

We even tried the little blue pill, but it also failed.

It had been almost four months and physically I was fine. I could go outside and walk and exercise without any problems. I had even gotten used to the almost totally plant-based diet JT and the Doctors had me on, but best of all, since I could now climb stairs, I had moved back into our bedroom. By doing that, both JT and I thought that my ED problem would go away, but it didn't.

On more than one occasion, I had asked each of my physicians what my problem might be and was basically told by all of them, "beat's the shit out of me." Medically, everything that could be done had been done. All that was left was my mind.

I even attended sessions with a psychologist to no avail and the longer it went, it seemed the worse it got if that were possible.

My stress level stayed up. I was concerned about my mental state, but I was also concerned about JT. She was very sexual and I knew that she was impatient with my lack of ability to perform. We had tried different things like me eating her pussy or fingering her trying to get her off, but nothing worked. I recommended getting a vibrator, but she declined saying, "I need a dick, not a piece of plastic." I knew she meant it. She hadn't gone that long without being fucked since she turned 18. Her first two boyfriends took care of her until I came along, then it was my turn and I was failing.

We talked almost daily about my problem. We had both talked to counselors and tried everything they recommended, but nothing worked. One day I realized that not only had she stopped talking about sex, but she had stopped trying to get me hard.

The only reason I could think of for that was that she no longer needed or wanted sex from me. It was not a large leap, considering my depression, for me to assume that she was getting it from someone else.

I had been back to work about a month and I was never so happy to be anyplace. I was hoping the work would take my mind off my two biggest problems, my ED and JT's possible cheating, thereby helping me to overcome it but it didn't work.

It was weighing pretty heavy on my mind and I she and I should talk about it. My depression was not getting better.

One evening she came home, said hello and walked right past me and upstairs. She never stopped to give me a hug or a kiss. I followed her up and into our bedroom. "JT, we should talk," I said. She had started undressing and continued.

"What about?" she asked.

"You know 'what about'. About our non-existent sex like," I said.

"Don't worry about it," she said. She went into the bathroom and closed the door. I went back downstairs.

She never came down the rest of the evening. I went upstairs at 11. She was in bed. I took my shower and got into bed. She didn't move.

The next morning I woke up and she was gone. I searched the house, but both she and her car were missing. I shaved and dressed for work. In my heart I knew she got tired of needing sex and went out and found some. My body was broken when I had my heart attack, but knowing in my heart that she was cheating broke my soul.

At work that day, I tried to think of reasons to forgive her, but came up empty. I loved her and would never allow her to spend the rest of her life living with me and never having sex. Had she talked to me before doing it, I would have told her that we could divorce and she could do whatever she wanted.

As it was, she made the wrong choice. Divorce first, then fuck somebody was okay. The reverse was not.

I talked to the bank's computer wizard. I told him my situation and what my idea was and he provided me with everything I needed.

One night after a solo dinner of a BLT, which I knew I shouldn't have, I was in the living room watching TV. I was in my recliner and sipping on a beer. I heard her come in from the garage into the kitchen. I sat and waited.

She came in and sat in her recliner. As soon as she sat, I hit the record button for the camera my IT guy at the bank had loaned me. I picked up the TV remote and hit the "off" button. I looked at JT. "Who is he?"

She knew exactly what I was talking about and made no effort to avoid it. "He's a guy I met at lunch one day. He sat at my table and we started talking."

"How long have you been fucking him?"

"A month."

"How often?"

"As often as we can get together. Usually three times a week."

"Is he married?"

"No."

"So you go to his place?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"I'm not sure. We're very comfortable together and I miss him when we're not together."

"How does he feel?"

"He wants me to move in with him."

"Are you going to?"

"I'm considering it."

"What's stopping you?"

"Again, I'm not sure." There was a pause before she spoke again. "So where does that leave us," she asked.

"You tell me. I loved you up until about a minute ago when you admitted committing adultery. When did you stop loving me?"

"Who said I didn't love you?"

"You're fucking another man, you miss him when you're not with him, and you are considering moving in with him. That certainly doesn't sound like you love me." She looked away from me. It was a long time before I spoke . "If you had your choice right this minute, would you stay here or go to him?"

"Right this minute?"

"Yes."

"I'd go with him."

"Why don't you?"

"He isn't home. He's playing poker."

"What time will he be home?"

"Around 11."

"What's his name?"

She looked at me. "Why?"

"Just wondering. It will come out in court, anyway."

"Court? Why?"

"In the divorce."

"What divorce?"

"You don't honestly think that I'm going to stay married to you, do you?"

"Why not?"

"Because you're sleeping with another man, that's why not."

"It isn't my fault you can't take care of my needs. Someone has to."

It was quiet for a while longer before I stopped recording, reached for the remote and turned the TV back on. I'd heard enough.

JT sat there for just a couple of minutes looking like she wanted to say something but didn't. Finally she stood and went upstairs. It was midnight when I went up. I wondered if she would be fucking him if she had gone to his house at 11.

She was in bed, reading. I took my shower, put on my pajamas, an headed for the guest room.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I can't sleep here."

"Why not? You're my husband."

"That I am, but now you're somebody else's woman."

"I wouldn't be if you were still a man." She said and went back to her book. Between that remark and the last thing she said just before coming upstairs I was absolutely cut to the quick. Words have meanings, and there is nothing she could have said that could hurt me worse and my depression took another nosedive.

One of my branch's customers was a divorce attorney. I wasn't sure what his office hours were but I called him. His message said that his office was scheduled to open for another half hour, but I left my name and phone number.

He recognized my name and called. "Come right up. O have a few minutes." his office was on the seventh floor of our building so I went straight up. I came right to the point.

"My wife has been having an affair for the last month. She says she started it because since my heart attack I have been unable to get an erection."

"Do you have any proof of the affair?" he asked. I took out the video I had made the evening before. He put it in his player and we watched it together. Watching her face as she casually talked about fucking another man was heart breaking. It was worse than I remembered it being. "Well, that's pretty cut and dried. Do you have any children," he asked.

"No."

"That makes things easier. What do you want me to do?"

"Get me a divorce."

"You're positive?"

"Yes."

"Okay. When do you want her served?"

"As soon as possible and I want the reason to be adultery." There was a short pause before I continued. "After our conversation last night, she is probably doing the same thing I am today, so I'd like to get my licks in first."

Just before I left to go home, he called to tell me everything was ready. It was then I gave him my idea. He thought if she cooperated it would be perfect, so we set it in motion. It hinged on her coming home then leaving to be with her lover.

She wasn't home when I got there so I assumed she was with her poker playing boyfriend and my plan would have to wait. I took out a frozen lasagna dinner which was left-over from my pre-heart attack days and put it in the microwave. While it was heating, I poured a glass of wine.

I had eaten about half of the lasagna when she came home. She put her purse and keys on the kitchen island like she always did. Then She leaned back against the island, crossed her ankles and arms and stood there. I keopt eating.

I finished, poured more wine, and went to the living room and sat where I always sat. I reached for the video control and pressed Record. She came in a couple of minutes later and sat.

"How was your day?" she asked.

I laughed. "Like you give a shit."

"I do. We're still married and we still live together." I thought back to just a couple of minutes ago in the kitchen. Before my heart attack and even the first several months after, the first thing we would have done was to hug and kiss each other and really mean it.

The pose she struck in the kitchen was one of defiance and defense. "We're still together," she'd said. Bullshit, I thought to myself.

What did your boyfriend say when you told him I knew about the two of you?"

"Nothing much. He was curious how you took it."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him as well as could be expected."

"So, what else is new?"

"I'm going to his house tonight. We figure since you know about us, there's no reason to hide."

"Why aren't you there now?"

"I needed some clothes for work tomorrow."

"Well, don't let me stop you." I turned off the recording device and turned on the TV and tried to ignore her.

She sat there for a few minutes. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but it didn't come out. She stood and went upstairs. About twenty minutes later she came downstairs with a small bag and some clothes on hangers.

"When would you like me home?" she asked.

I laughed my ass off. "Home? This stopped being home the minute you agreed to fuck him. Stay gone as long as you want."

"Ben, don't be like that. If you ever get your dick back, things might be different." She walked out.

Thirty minutes later my phone rang. "We have it Mr. Fredericks." the voice said.

"Great. Wait an hour or so and serve her there. Make sure was have the address and any other information about him we can get.."

"Will do."

" And call me when she's been served."

He laughed. "Will do."

Almost exactly an hour later he called back. "It's done and I've never had so much fun in my life. I have it on video if you would like to see it."

I laughed out loud. "I'd love to."

"Okay. I'm not far from you, if you want me to stop by now."

"Come on down." I almost yelled.

His video showed a man about my age opening the door with a towel around his waist and he was pissed. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I need to speak with Mrs. Fredericks, please."

"There's no Mrs. Fredericks here."

"Yes, sir, there is and if you don't let her speak to me, I'll get the police to make you." He told me that part was a lie.

"It'd all right, Freddy," I heard my wife say. Then she came into view naked from the waist up and not the least bit shy about showing her tits to a total stranger; something I would never in a million years, expect to see her do. "I'm Mrs. Fredericks. What do you want?"

"Mrs. Joanne Fredericks?"

"Yes."

He handed her the envelope. "You've been served."

"What do you mean? Served with what?"

"I assume they are divorce papers, ma'am. Great tits by the way."

It was then that she apparently realized her boobs were exposed and tried to cover herself.

He and I laughed for a couple more minutes before he laughed with a promise to get me a copy of the video. I wasn't the least bit sleepy, so I opened a mother beer and sat there chuckling at the memory . I half expected her to come barging in that night but she didn't.

The next day at work, I had the most relaxed day I had since the day before my heart attack. Everybody kept asking me why I was so happy. I couldn't tell them because I didn't know myself. I loved my wife; or at least I did until I learned about Freddy, but the night before I had started down the road to divorce court. Why should that make me happy? It shouldn't, but apparently it did.

She was waiting for me when I got home and she had dinner ready.

"What's this all about?" I asked.

"I thought you might be hungry."

"I stopped and had a couple of pieces of chicken."

"You know you aren't supposed to eat that stuff. You'll have another heart attack."

"And that would concern you how?"

"You're still my husband."

"Despite all evidence to the contrary."

There was silence as she put food on a plate, then sat and picked at it with a fork. "Do you really want a divorce, Ben?"

"No. What I really want is my wife back."

"You can have her."

"But only if you can continue fucking Freddy or somebody else. Right?"

"I can't spend the rest of my life being celibate, Ben."

"And I can't spend the rest on MY life watching you go out the door knowing that you're going to fuck someone else, or sit here when you bring someone home to fuck in our bed."

Life got really fucked up after that. I had a plan in mind and it didn't involve moving out of the house: at least not until I was ready. I knew she would get the house in the divorce, but I wasn't going to leave until I had to. I kept expecting to be served with a restraining order, but I never was and I went to bed every night assuming she was going to Freddy's, but she never did. By the same token, she never made any effort to get close to me. Every morning, it seemed like we were on our old, regular schedule. Breakfast was ready so I sat and ate with her. Most evenings I fixed dinner and we ate together.

It went on like that for two weeks. We never talked about the divorce and she never went out at night. On Saturday mornings I made my pancakes, but I don't think she went shopping: More than likely she went to Freddy's.

My attorney called to tell me we had an appointment with JT and her attorney the following week.

Our week continued as usual, each of us knowing about the appointment, but neither of us mentioning it. When it was time, my attorney and I were ushered into th conference room of her attorney's office complex. He had already told me that her attorney was good and he was also bloodthirsty. I told him I couldn't give a shit less. "Let's do this."

Her guy started with a demand that we change the reason from adultery to irreconcilable differences.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you have no proof of adultery."

"She told me she did it, how often, and where."

"Then it becomes he said, she said."

"What if I have a video of her saying it?"

He looked at JT and she shook her head. "We think you're lying."

I looked at her. "Have you ever known me to lie? Ever?"

"There's always a first time," she said, "and I think this is it."

My attorney opened his computer, slipped in the video and turned it so they could see the screen. Then we both sat back in our chairs. I had recorded it the night I asked her who she was sleeping with.

"Seen enough?" My attorney asked.

The two of them just looked at me. "There's one more," I said.

My attorney turned his computer around, ejected the first disc and replaced it with the second disc and turned it back around. This was the one the sever made when he served her and it showed Freddy in his towel and JT's tits. She went pale at that one.

Her attorney regrouped. "you can bring those into court if you want to, Mr. Fredericks, and embarrass your wife, but then we will be forced to give the reason for her to seek sexual release elsewhere. Then both of you will be embarrassed. Is that what you want?"

I didn't have a chance to say anything because my attorney pooped up.

"Let me ask you a question, counselor. When we get in front of a judge, who do you think is going to get more sympathy? A man recovering from an almost fatal heart attack, or a woman who deserts her sick husband because she wants to get laid?"

"That's enough for me. I'm out of here." I said as I got up, walked out, and went to work.