Quirk of the Brain

"How are you this morning, Mr. Miller?"

"Not much change from yesterday, doc. Ready to go home but I guess that's up to you."

"Well partially, but there is a 72-hour hold on you as required by state law that didn't technically start until you and I started our conversation yesterday. So, two more days at least."

"That's fine, doc. At least the food here isn't half-bad."

"It's ALL BAD," they quipped together, sharing a hearty laugh.

"An oldie but a goodie," noted Dr. Lasseter. "But I'm glad to see you making jokes."

"Me too. It's been a while, and by a while I mean months, since I felt like, well, like myself. I used to be quite the jokester, to the point of getting on Dallas' nerves sometimes."

"Have we had any more bad thoughts, gone down any more dark alleys in our mind?

"You know, doc, I haven't. I spent a year being fairly depressed and the last few months being really depressed. I don't feel that anymore. It's been replaced by anger, by frustration, by disappointment. With Diana and Dallas certainly, more Diana, but mostly with myself for not standing up for myself, for making it clear to my wife that what she was doing was not acceptable."

"Do you intend to take that stand now?"

"Absolutely. Though I admit to being tempted to just go for divorce, I have to accept some of the blame for letting her walk over me. But if she's willing to stop seeing Bill then I'm willing to see a counselor and try to rebuild our marriage."

"I can appreciate your determination, Mr. Miller. I rarely see this kind of turnaround so quickly."

"I had lots of time to think about while I was lying here, before you ever came in. I appreciate you giving me the chance to voice it, to tell it to someone. It allowed me to focus my thoughts."

"Excellent, Mr. Miller, just excellent. In that case I'm going to cut things short today. I have a few more patients than yesterday so I can use the time. I will stop by tomorrow for one last chat but I see no reason you won't be able to leave on schedule."

"I look forward to it, doc."

[::::::::::}

Diana and Dallas were there to pick him up when he was released. If he was going to try to rebuild things he needed to start by behaving as if things were going to be rebuilt.

There was still healing to be done. The airbags had been remarkably effective, far more so than Marty had anticipated. The worst of it was the concussion he got that required him to spend a lot of time resting and relaxing in the dark. The television was left off and some gentle music played in the background. His wife and his daughter fawned over him.

All was well for a little over a week, until Diana announced she needed to do some shopping.

"No," Marty calmly said.

"What?" Diana answered, bewildered. "Marty, there are things we need, including some of your therapy creams."

"Make a list for Dallas. She can go."

"Why are you dragging me into this, dad? Besides, I have plans to see Bradley."

"Then you have incentive to finish the shopping quickly, won't you. Diana, a list."

"This is ridiculous, Martin. You can't just come home and upend the way we do things. Dallas has plans and I'm going to the store, and that's final."

"Do you think I'm stupid, Diana?"

"Stupid? No, Marty, of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Do you think I don't realize that these shopping trips are excuses to go see Bill?"

"I have never failed to come home with groceries, Martin. Not once!"

"Yes, and it's made excellent cover. But you're gone way too long, and not only that but I can see it on you. In your eyes when you won't look at me; in your clothes when they don't look quite right; in your make-up, that's always just a little messed up. At least part of the time is spent with Bill, and that's not happening anymore."

The shock on Diana's eyes was obvious, and Dallas suddenly felt a little more respect for her father.

"Marty, please, we've been over this. Now, I will do my best to take more care. It's obvious that I became a little too relaxed about my...meetings. But I am certainly not giving him up. I'm entitled to a sex life and I mean to have one."

"So, our vows meant nothing? Forsaking all others? In sickness and in health? Well, this is the sickness part, and you're not forsaking others. But you'll do so starting now. You'll stop seeing Bill and we will see a counselor to put our marriage back together. Or you won't, and we won't, and I'll call the divorce attorney on Monday."

"You'll do no such thing, Martin Miller! Don't you dare make threats to me! If I could have sex with you, and only you, then I would, but I can't. And it's not my fault. I didn't cause the accident. I wasn't even there. Suddenly, for nothing I had anything to do with, my sex life is gone, and I'm just supposed to accept it? Not going to happen. So, I am going shopping, and I am going to see Bill, and I'm going to get my needs taken care of. If you want to talk about this some more tonight then we can do that, but don't you dare think you can dictate to me what I can and can't do!"

Without waiting for another word from her husband, Diana walked out her front door, closing it with a window-rattling slam. The silence was deafening. Father and daughter looked at each other, and then Marty went into his bedroom.

For the first time in her life, Dallas Miller worried about the future of her family, of her parent's marriage. Dad had never really stood up to mom, but then there was never anything this serious that came up between them. But, figuring it was between them and there was nothing she could do, she fixed herself up and went to meet Bradley.

[::::::::::}

Diana lay on her back, her legs splayed wide, reveling in the feeling of the man on top of her pounding his cock into her. While she suspected Bill had a little pharmaceutical assistance, she found sex with him to be better than what she'd had with Marty before the accident. Part of her hoped that Marty never got it back because she wasn't sure she could ever give Bill up.

Bill was aggressive. Bill was strong. He didn't make sure what he was doing was okay with her; he just did it. As if to prove the point, at that moment Bill flipped her on to her stomach, pulled her hips into the air, and started fucking her doggie-style. Marty was always so gentle, so considerate, so...Marty.

As Diana was getting pounded hard from behind, in another part of the house her daughter was fending off the octopus hands of her boyfriend, Bradley. Sure, she was lying there topless and stroking his erection, but she had stopped giving him a blow job and was pushing away his hands as he tried to grope her bare breasts and tried to get inside her jeans.

"Dammit Dal, what's the matter?" Bradley finally asked in frustration.

"Sorry, Bradley. I'm just worried about my folks and I can't stay in the mood.

She stood up and put her bra back on, followed by her shirt. Bradley just lay there, like he couldn't believe she wasn't going to get him off. He tried to rally.

"C'mon babe, let's get naked and have some fun. That'll take your mind off them."

"Jeezus, Bradley, don't you ever think of anything else? Shit, we don't do anything anymore but have sex. How about taking me on a date to distract me? How about bowling, or dinner, or mini golf, or anything besides being in your room and being naked!"

"I happen to like being naked and having sex," Bradley retorted. "It's fun, and it feels good. And I don't like bowling or mini golf, so why the hell would I take you there?"

The light finally went on in Dallas' head.

"You're right, you wouldn't. And you don't need to worry about it anymore. I'm going home, and we're through. Find someone else to do nothing with."

Dallas walked out of Bradley's bedroom for the last time, ignoring his pleas of 'Dal, come on'. Bradley was a good-looking guy but she suddenly realized he was just an older teenager. He had no ambition and no desire to grow their relationship. He was just trying to finish college so he could take a job with his dad's company, and she doubted he'd do any more there than draw a paycheck and take up space.

Diana was cumming hard as the front door slammed, which caused her to lose the edge a little bit.

"Damn kid! How many times I got to tell him not to slam the fucking door," Bill uttered in annoyance.

Diana climbed next to Bill and they cuddled up close. As she relaxed, Diana knew she didn't love Bill, or even like him all that much. And Bradley was a lazy slob. But Bill could fuck, boy could he fuck, and if Bradley inherited even a little bit of that then she understood the appeal the young man had for Dallas.

[::::::::::}

It was getting dusky outside as Dallas walked back into the family home. She found her dad relaxing in his bedroom. There was a faint glow, which she realized was coming from the bathroom, where the light was on and the door was cracked. She realized her dad wanted a little light but none of the fixtures in the room would go that low.

"Dad."

He had his back to her and didn't turn over, but he did answer.

"Dallas."

"I'm sorry."

That caught his attention, so he carefully sat up in bed and turned to find a gently weeping daughter in the doorway.

"Sorry for what?"

He had stopped calling her all the little endearing words he used to use when he found out she had helped her mother find a lover, and was hesitant to do so now even though she was in tears. He couldn't help but think this was as setup.

Dallas walked closer, until she was right at the foot of the bed.

"I'm sorry for what I did. I...I was just trying to help mom, you know? She was so upset at what you were going through and that you couldn't..."

Their eyes met just briefly.

"Well, you know what you couldn't. And Bradley's dad had been going through the same thing since Mrs. Coyle died. Bradley says his dad is always talking about how much he misses her, especially the intimacy. I thought they could, you know, take care of each other. I'm sorry to say I never thought about how it would affect you. Is that...is that why you...did what you did that night?"

Marty was surprised by this sudden outpouring from his daughter. This might still be a trick, but he had to take her confession at face value. If he got fooled, hurt, tricked again, then so be it.

"Mostly, I think. I was pretty depressed anyway just because I couldn't...well, you know what I couldn't."

Father and daughter caught each other's eyes again, this time sharing a brief smile.

"But that's over now, Dally. I'm not going to do that again."

"I hope not. I still need you. Are you going to divorce mom?"

"I haven't made any final decisions, sweetheart, but I don't see any other result if she won't stop seeing Bill. But keep that to yourself. She has to change because she wants to, not because she has to."

"Okay dad. I'm going to head upstairs. Oh, I broke up with Bradley tonight?"

Marty tried to keep the smile off his face. He had never particularly liked the boy, but it surprised him because she seemed rather infatuated with him, or had once upon a time.

"Why?" asked Marty, curious at this turn of events.

"Because," Dallas started, then paused to consider. "Because my daddy once told me that he wasn't good enough for me. And I finally realized he was right. I finally realized my daddy was right about a lot of things."

A smile came to Marty's lips as he realized his little girl had grown up a lot today. Dallas walked over to her father and gave him a hug, and realized it was the first hug they had shared in a very long time. Finally, they pulled away, gave each other a smile, then Marty watched Dallas silently leave the room and go upstairs.

No sooner had Marty heard his daughter's bedroom door close than he heard the chirp of Diana remotely locking her car. The good feelings that had just filled him with joy were gone in an instant. He laid back down and closed his eyes.

Moments later Diana entered the bedroom. She had showered at Bill's, and Marty supposed it was better for her to come back freshly showered instead of reeking of sex, though they both would have telegraphed exactly what Diana had been up to.

"Can you help with the groceries, please?"

"There's actually groceries?" Marty quipped as he sat up.

"Yes, Marty. I told you I was getting groceries and I did."

Marty hauled the bags in from the car and emptied them on to the counter. He noticed there were no refrigerated or frozen items; it was all to stock up the pantry. He also found the receipt and the time stamp showed she had checked out of the grocery store nearly 2 hours ago. Shopping first, then off to see Bill, it appeared. Even though Marty knew it was going to happen, the evidence before him still hurt.

The items put away, Marty headed into the bedroom without another word to lie down. He considered whether it was even worthwhile to raise the subject again. There really was no point. Diana had made it clear what she intended to do, so the next issue was his response. Something had to change.

"Did you want to talk some more?" his wife asked in a tone that said it wouldn't do any good.

"No, Diana. You made your position clear."

Diana's countenance and tone softened. She loved her husband and didn't want to lose him. He was still her best friend and the person she most enjoyed spending time with. She really didn't think arranging for her own sexual satisfaction, given the circumstances, should be a problem. And she hoped that Marty would eventually feel the same way.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

"No. I made some fettucine while you were gone."

"You had a salad, I hope. You haven't been very good about vegetables lately."

"No, no salad, but I made some spinach."

Diana nodded her approval then moved to her closet to get dressed. She was considering a return to some intimacy with her husband, something that had sorely been missing, but tonight was not the night. By the time she changed for bed, Marty was asleep. Or at least doing a good job of pretending.

[::::::::::}

The divorce did not go smoothly.

Diana raged when the papers were served. Marty had been kind enough to have them sent to the house, and had made a point of being out with Dallas at the time, after having moved into the guest room, which was upstairs next to Dallas' room.

Diana fought hard against the divorce. She hired a very aggressive attorney and he pulled out all the stops. They even attempted to have him declared mentally incompetent, citing the suicide attempt.

Marty, anticipating she might try something like that, and because he thought it would be a good idea, entered counseling the same week that the papers were served. The psychologist he was seeing was well-respected (and certainly not cheap), and when he testified that Marty was most definitely no longer a suicide risk, the judge accepted that and it became a non-issue.

The fight may have gone on much longer, but just as it seemed Diana was getting ready to dig in her heels Dallas intervened. She made it clear to her mother that they had been wrong, that Diana's needs did not outweigh the vows and promises she had made. Life isn't always fair, and she should have stood by her husband and suffered beside him. Dallas also made it clear that any further resistance would damage their future mother-daughter relationship, possibly permanently.

Facing the loss of both her husband and her daughter, Diana felt she had no choice and dropped her objection to the divorce.

The house was sold. Marty agreed to alimony for a couple of years, knowing a judge would order it anyway. Diana got herself a 2-bedroom apartment not far from her work, and was able to get on full-time 8 months after the divorce was final, but the divorce had left her bitter and angry, especially when Bill let her know they were done. It seemed there were a couple other women he was screwing, and Diana lost her appeal once she was no longer married.

Dallas continued with school as a commuter student, alternating stays with both parents, though as time went on Diana's attitude of playing the victim and continuing to blame Marty for the divorce. If she had heard her mother say, 'If only he had been more understanding' one more time she was going to scream.

And Marty? Well...

[::::::::::}

Marty walked into the dimly lit club around 10:00pm. It was a Friday night and he just wanted to get out of the house. He was just looking for a short-term good-time. He wanted to have a couple drinks and maybe a few dances. He'd been acting so much unlike himself lately and he was trying to change that.

He took a seat at the bar and ordered a rum and cola. As he sipped his drink he scanned the patrons that were with him that evening, spotting a face at the far end of the bar that looked familiar but he couldn't quite place. She had a nearly empty wine glass in front of her. Her hair was a deep brown and long, and the dress was just barely covering her breasts.

Marty fixed his gaze and thought back...back. It was right on the edge of his brain for a couple of minutes when it clicked. A small smile formed on his lips and he picked up his drink, carrying it carefully as he approached the woman. She looked at him just as he got to her.

"Doctor Lasseter?"

She looked him in the eyes and studied his face for a moment but didn't immediately show any recognition, and Marty thought perhaps he had the wrong person.

"I leave Doctor Lasseter at the hospital. Out here in the real world it's Vicki. But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

"It has been awhile, and I'm sure you talk to a lot more patients than I do beautiful psychologists."

"I'm much better with names than faces. Try me."

"Martin Miller."

Vicki pondered the name for a minute and Marty patiently waited for her to admit defeat. He watched her closely and if you asked him later he'd swear he actually saw a light bulb go on in her brain.

"Ah, Mr. Miller. An unfaithful wife and a rather sudden collision with a tree, if I'm not mistaken."

"You're not mistaken, and I'm amazed. We spoke just twice over a year ago, heck almost 2 years ago."

"It's a gift. Care to join me?"

Marty took a seat, signaling to the bartender to refill both of their drinks.

"Thank you."

"It's my pleasure. So, what brings you out tonight. Meeting someone?" Marty asked.

"Trying to," Vicki answered, a sparkle in her eye making her meaning clear.

"Really? I thought I recalled a rather impressive rock on your finger back then."

"You may have. That's a little before my divorce was final. I was wearing my rings while trying to convince my husband, excuse me, ex-husband, that he really didn't have anything in common with a 20-year-old cashier except a willingness to have one of her friends join them in bed. I'm afraid I wasn't successful."

"Oh my. Are they still together?"

"This may come as some surprise to you, Mr. Miller, but after my divorce was finalized I completely lost interest in Wayne's relationship status. I haven't the faintest idea."

"Of course. It was a silly question. And please call me Marty or Martin or even asshole. Anything but Mr. Miller."

"What did your wife call you?"

"Marty."

"Well then, Martin. Would you care to show me to the dance floor?"

"I'd be delighted."

Martin asked the bartender to keep their drinks safely behind the bar, then took Vicki's hand and led her to the floor. It was upbeat number and they got into the groove quickly. That song was followed by another fast song, and then a slower song started. They stayed on the floor the whole time, pulling each other close for the slow song.

Vicki had her hands around Martin's neck while his hands were pressed firmly against her back. Being a guy, Martin immediately noticed the lack of a bra. They looked in each other's eyes for a while before Vicki rested her head on his shoulder.