Promises, Promises Pt. 03

"You startled me. I called you when I got in the front door. What kind of psycho has a shower before supper?" I suspected what the true answer was and wondered what kind of bullshit she would give in its place.

Penny slid the door open and put her hands on her hips, facing me. It was distracting to say the least, and she knew it. "The kind of psycho who comes home from work, makes a special supper, and discovers her husband left a blocked toilet when he finished his business in the morning."

Oops; the last part was true. My embarrassment took the edge off my anger. Penny wasn't finished, though.

"The kind of psycho who mops up the floor after the filthy toilet overflows. The kind of psycho who then unblocks the toilet, who washes and sanitizes the whole damned bathroom. Who doesn't want to spend the evening doused in her husband's fecal bacteria."

Okay, my anger had been completely erased by shame. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize... I forgot to—"

"Yeah, bullshit, or should I say Larry-shit. You know exactly what you did. You rationalized it, telling yourself you'd clean up the mess when you got home, but knowing I'd get here before you. I hope you enjoyed yourself, or at least had a productive day while I spent the afternoon shoveling your shit."

"Okay, let's not lay it on too thick." Now I felt even worse. Penny was cleaning up my mess while I was talking to a lawyer about divorcing her. "I got a few things out of the way. I presume you did more than just clean up after me today. Did you have a productive day?" Maybe I could distract her. And what was the special supper about?

Penny shone, like a lightbulb that had just been switched on by my question. "Do you remember me talking about Swati Lakshmisingh? I met her at a conference in New Delhi last year. She has a biological regulation laboratory that's been running some procedures I suggested."

I didn't know my wife's conference had been in New Delhi. Penny was trembling with excitement. She had more she needed to tell me.

"And?"

"We may have found a way to inhibit the ability of certain tumor cells to process energy."

"What does that mean?"

"We could slow, maybe even shut down a whole bunch of cancers! Imagine how rich we'll be. Never mind that: think of all the lives we'll save."

I was floored. My wife was on the verge of winning a major battle in the war against a deadly disease, and then she cleaned up my poopy toilet. Her indiscretion with Sabini seemed kind of trivial in context. If only it had been an indiscretion, rather than a well-planned betrayal. Still, Penny's two accomplishments were enough to extinguish my anger, at least for now.

"You're amazing! I'm so proud of you." I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a steamy kiss. My hands dropped to her ass as I pressed my groin against hers.

"Proud enough to drop the divorce plans?"

I released her and stumbled backwards. "Who... how do you know about that?"

"I'm beautiful, I'm brilliant, and I have undisclosed super-powers." She smiled as she made this declaration.

"Are you Wonder-Woman or Supergirl?"

She shook her head. "Neither. I'm Impulse-Woman. Everything catches my attention. My super-power is my ability to quickly classify, file away or respond to things. Your noisy photographer in the park was the tip-off that I was being followed." She took a step forward and pushed me back onto our bed. "Well, what's it going to be big boy? What's your punishment for triggering me into fucking Sabini?"

I shot up. "You admit it? You blame me for it?"

She shoved me right back down. "You owe me double. One, for cleaning up your shit. Two, as a reward for what my New Delhi friend and I did." She practically jumped on my chest, pinning me to the bed. "I was just going to go for a walk with Sabini. When I spotted Hollister—"

"Who?"

"Jeremy Hollister, your photographer buddy." She reached an arm behind her and started rubbing the front of my pants.

"You remember him?" I was astonished. "It's been at least a couple of years since we've seen him, and that was what, at some party with a hundred other people? I had to look up his last name and number before I could call him."

"I told you, I have super-powers. Anyway, it was easy to figure out why he was there. That really pissed me off, so I decided to give you a show. Once we started I really enjoyed it, so we went farther; too far."

"So it's my fault, for provoking you?" We both felt my body starting to respond to her ministrations.

"Yup. I'm going to punish you now: first for provoking me, but mostly for the blocked toilet."

"And what about your punishment for going too far, as you put it?"

"We'll talk about it after this." She turned around and slid up, placing her freshly showered pussy right over my mouth. "Start your penance."

How could I refuse? I was guilty. But then she might use this as a sign I had acquiesced to her infidelity. Well, maybe... I hesitated.

"Larry, you're going to force me to give you a hard time."

Uh-oh.

No, cancel that. She leaned forward, undid my zipper, and took me in her mouth. I could deal with that kind of hard time.

It was almost an hour later that we surfaced from my penance. Penny licked her lips. "The Chicken Tikka Masala is going to get completely dried up. We should go eat."

It was one of my favorites. "How come I didn't smell it when I came home?"

"You were distracted by your anger and frustration. Besides which, I have powers. Remember?"

Yes, I was distracted by anger when I came home. But now she had distracted me with sex and supper. The chicken was super-spicy and delicious, served with basmati rice. The clutching, groping, licking and pounding had been phenomenal as usual. Sex was probably the strongest of Penny's super-powers. But I wasn't without some strengths myself. I put teacups in front of each of us and said "Penny..."

She knew this was coming, and tears started to form. She sighed. "I've severed all connections to funding committees. That was a terrible threat to make. I'm sorry."

I had to metaphorically chain my ass to the kitchen chair, I so wanted to jump up and comfort her. I hardened my heart. "And?"

"I shouldn't have threatened you, period. I shouldn't have gotten interested in fucking a Papuan savage. I shouldn't have fucked a stand-in. I shouldn't fuck anyone but you. I don't need anyone but you."

The tears were streaming down her cheeks. Was this another one of her supposed super-powers? No, most women had that ability.

"But you did fuck a stand-in, twice. One of those 'moral' Negros, as you said to him. Not only did you betray your husband, you tricked your lover. Is that also one of your super-powers, to hurt so many people with one action?"

Penny walked over to the roll of paper towels, tore one off and wiped her face. When she sat back down, there was anger on it. "I'm impulsive. You know that; you encourage it."

"This was no impulse. You started planning it the moment you met him and hid your wedding ring." Penny's anger quickly faded; she looked down towards her teacup. I placed a finger under her chin and raised her head. "Ice cream? We have butterscotch, and I think a bit of chocolate chip also."

She took a deep breath and started to rise. "Butterscotch would be fine. I'll get it. Which do you want?"

"Same."

She didn't just bring the ice cream. She brought a dessert: ice cream sprinkled with chopped peanuts, topped with a maraschino cherry, with maple syrup drizzled over everything. My wife was waging full-scale war on my anger; she knew how much I loved this. Still...

"I've accepted a position in Canberra, Australia."

"I know. Do you want me to come with you?"

What the hell! "You know? I haven't told anyone. How do you know?"

Penny rose and stood behind me, her breasts pressing into the back of my head, her hands gently massaging my shoulders. "I screwed up. I'm in damage-control mode. I'll do anything necessary to keep you. No, scratch that. I'll do anything necessary to make it up to you."

"What's the difference?"

"The first is for my benefit; the second is for yours. Since I'm the culprit, yours should take priority. To answer your question, the head of the History department in Canberra told the head of the history department in Melbourne, who contacted the person in charge of trying to lure us both there. She called me to express her disappointment."

I had to smile. "So much for sneaking away."

Penny slid her hands down to my chest. "I don't actually have super-powers but being a science superstar has its perks. My dear husband, do you want me to come with you to Canberra?"

This was frustrating. I had decided to move to Canberra to get far, far away from her. They have no one in a field similar to my wife's. "Are you offering to give up your work in order to keep me company?"

She stepped back. "What?"

"I picked Canberra in part because they had no interest in your work."

Penny took a couple of steps further back. "Stand up," she said. "Look at me and tell me what you see."

"I see a—"

"Keep it simple. No emotional stuff like 'cheating wife, slut... Just what you see in front of you.'"

"I see you." She stood with her arms folded, feet slightly apart, a blank expression on her face. "I see my wife, Dr. Penny Smith, a—"

"No, that's enough. Do you want to know what every university administrator sees when they look at me?"

I grinned. "A hot body?"

She smirked and shook her head. "Well, maybe after. What they see first is money. Millions and millions of dollars of research funding that is chasing me; that will go wherever I go. Find the poorest, lousiest university in the country, with no science department to speak of. If I took a position there, they would suddenly be a scientific leader. They would have funding; they would have students knocking at the door. Your new employer is pretty advanced in biotechnology and quantum science. Do you think they would hesitate to bring me and my funding into their fold?"

"I don't know." Maybe I'd been misinformed about Australia National University and quantum biology.

"Swati would love me to relocate to New Delhi, but she knows that's not going to happen. Her main sponsor has already offered to set me up in Australia. Larry, just this thing with the tumors is worth mega-millions to us. It will bring tons of money and prestige to any institution. You can't get away from me just by switching schools."

"How do I, then?"

Penny's shoulders drooped. Her face paled as she looked at the table. "Do you... do you really want to get away from me that badly?"

Once again, I had to metaphorically chain my ass to the kitchen chair. I wanted to wrap my arms around Penny, pledge my love to this amazing woman; this impulsive, out-of-control, sexually charged woman. "I don't know what I want; you've confused me. You tore me up when I realized you were serious about sex with a black man."

"Larry, you know—"

"It could have been a red man, a green man, doesn't matter. You wanted sex outside our marriage."

"Larry, I'm so—"

"No... don't say anything now. I love you; of that there's no doubt. You're an incredible person, cleaning up the toilet and all that shit. You're brilliant, you're..." I had to pause to catch my breath, to wipe the tears from my eyes. "Penny, I'm overwhelmed. It's too much for me right now."

She didn't say anything. We sat at the table, facing each other over empty coffee cups and sticky dessert plates. It took ten minutes for her to reach over, pull my hand to her lips, kiss it gently then press it against her cheek. The wetness there wasn't from any super-power, from any acting ability. Her remorse was real; it was deep. I don't know how long we sat there till Penny rose, got ready for bed, then wordlessly went into the spare room to sleep.

She had left for her lab by the time I was getting out of bed the next morning. I got a text from her mid-afternoon. Her brother-in-law was planning a Jamaican-style Thanksgiving weekend. It was still a couple of weeks away, but he wanted to know in advance who would be coming.

I wasn't a big fan of curried goat but loved the Jerk chicken he made. Jerk turkey would be interesting. I thought about it for a few hours, then messaged her "I'll pass."

I had supper at the Faculty Lounge, making small talk with colleagues in other departments. When one of them asked me if it was true that my wife was planning to relocate, I decided I didn't want to finish my coffee, shrugged and left. I would have to apologize for my rudeness next time I saw him.

I heard Penny get home as I climbed into bed. She came into our bedroom, took whatever it was she needed and went to the spare room. Neither of us felt the need to say anything.

And so it continued. We lived together, slept apart, ate apart even when at the table together. Occasionally we exchanged a few words such as 'I thought we had more bourbon,' 'have anything for the cleaner?' or 'I bought more maple syrup.' When we left it was usually without a goodbye; when we returned there was the occasional hello. We lived like roommates sharing a dwelling rather than spouses sharing a home. Neither of us wanted to face the rough choices in front of us. And by "neither of us" I mean me.

And so it went the first week, the second week... the second month, the third. We didn't bother with a Christmas tree; I spent New Year's Eve by myself watching the ball drop on TV. Penny went out for dinner, then came home a bit after midnight, totally sober, modestly dressed and neat. She didn't say and I didn't ask where she had been and with whom.

It was early March. I knew Penny had to decide where she would be the coming year. I still hadn't given her an answer as to whether I wanted her to come with me to Australia. How badly did I want to get away from her? How badly did I want her beside me? Maybe she found another Papuan stand-in during the months we were separated by silence.

Sometimes the decision gets made for you.

It was fate or maybe irony that Ken Sabini called as I was contemplating this very question. He sounded anxious, which immediately put me on edge. Penny and I weren't talking much, but we were still husband and wife. "Mr. Sabini, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"Can we meet for lunch tomorrow? It's somewhat urgent."

"If you have something to say to me about my wife, how about just telling me over the phone."

"Professor Smith, do you remember when you called me and implored that we meet in person? I'm doing the same. Please, give me the same response I gave you."

"This week is kind of busy. Could we do it next week, say Wednesday?"

"It's Monday today. Next Wednesday may be too late. I need at minimum a half hour of your time. Can I come to your office? Tell me a convenient time for you and Dr. Smith, and I'll be there."

"You want my wife at this meeting?"

"She has to be. She's a large part of what concerns me."

I pondered what this meant. Were they going to announce that she's pregnant with his child, and it was time for me to leave? I tried to think of other possibilities but drew a blank. The only way to find out was to go. "Let me see what I can arrange and get back to you."

I texted Penny, curious to know if she was aware of the planned get-together. "We have 2 meet someone tomorrow, best @my office. When U available?"

The reply was as I expected: "Who, why?"

I didn't want to get chatty or have to pick up the phone and talk to her, God forbid. "Impt. What time good 4U?"

Then our usual conversation: silence.

Two hours later my phone chirped. "2pm Ur office."

Damn, I had an undergraduate exam scheduled then. I called the department office, arranged an invigilator, and called Sabini to confirm. I wanted to get an indication of what we were meeting about, wondering if it was time to get a divorce attorney. He replied that we were going to discuss the local implications of my research. That intrigued me. It also rang a little alarm bell in a corner of my mind. My work was on violence, often dealing with political movements that lost sight of their purpose, getting subsumed by rage. That paradigm could certainly be applied to many of the so-called activists of the right and left in our city. But why did he insist that Penny be there? Her research had nothing to do with mine.

Penny got to my office a few minutes before two. "Who?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Are you divorcing me?"

I was trying to formulate a polite, non-committal response when we heard the knock on the door. Penny let out a sob when Ken walked into the room. He shook my hand, then nodded at her. "Dr. Smith."

She tried to smile. "Mr. Sabini, this is a surprise."

I had an octagonal antique oak coffee table in my office, and we sat around it.

"We all have some history together," he started. "We have to put that to the side for the moment."

"I owe you an apology, Ken..."

"Not now, Dr. Smith, Professor Smith." He turned to me. "We've talked about the rising tensions in Portland, on the left and right. I've explained how my club, the Rough Men wants to lower tensions, keep innocent people from getting hurt."

"A daunting task; to keep idiots from inflicting their stupidity on others," I said.

"You and Penny are targets."

"What are you talking about?"

"We regularly monitor online chatter from Antifa and Aryan Nations. Some self-described anti-fascists have decided that your theories about history and violence constitute apologetics for imperialism and racism. According to their warped little minds, allowing you a platform advances imperialism, racism, exploitation... all the Marxist tropes you could advance."

"How do they plan to stop me from speaking? I'm a tenured professor. No one can shut me up, no matter what I say."

Ken turned to Penny. "They plan to seduce the bimbo, as they call her, that you're married to. They want to use that to pressure you to leave academia."

"Are they dangerous?" Penny asked.

"Stupid people with a cause can be very dangerous," Ken said.

"How can they call my wife a bimbo? She's probably one of the smartest people in the state!" I was more offended than frightened.

Penny turned to me with a smile, the first real smile she had given since we began living apart together. "One of the smartest?"

I returned the smile. "Probably the smartest..." She reached over and gave my hand a squeeze.

Sabini leaned forward. "There's no question that they're fools. But they can be dangerous fools. You can't just sit back and wait. They want you gone; they want your work gone."

This was difficult for me to digest. "Who are these bizarre people?"

"A rag-tag jumble of losers. Mostly liberal arts students, a few self-described artists, and..." Ken raised his eyes to me, "Henry Mirling."

I jumped up. "He was the Chairman of the History Department before me! He's a respected scholar."

Penny shifted in her seat. "Honey, remember when he made a pass at me? You laughed it off, saying no one takes him seriously. The Graduate Secretary said that he was terminated as Chairman because he was destroying the Department. Didn't you say he promised to pay you back for taking his position?"

I sat back down. "That's true. He is a pompous fool. Maybe that's how he fits in with Antifa. Anyways, it's not a problem. Penny and I are relocating to Australia next year. If we announce it quickly before they pull any stunts, they'll have nothing to protest or demand." Penny took a sharp breath when I said the words "Penny and I are relocating..."

Sabini looked from me to Penny and back. "Congratulations. That's quite a move. I'm relieved that the incident with Penny and me didn't destroy your marriage."

Penny took his hand in hers. "Ken, my sweet Ken, I did terrible things to you. I lied to you, seduced you, used you for my own pleasure to satisfy my impulses. And then afterwards, after you offered your heart to me, I said terrible things. Things meant to destroy any longing you might have for me."