Quit While You are Ahead

A flash story with no sex.

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*****

Claude François, Paul Anka: "Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention. I did, what I had to do, and saw it through, without exemption."

+ + + +

I met Joyce when I was twenty five. She was a year younger. Although she never gave me details, she was in one serious relationship. Obviously that one didn't work out. As for myself, I've never been much of a ladies man. Even though I lost my virginity in high school, those were hookups for sex only. Devoting my time to getting an education and bettering my career had taken up my time.

My mother-in-law, Marilyn, is a complete know it all. Mommy dearest and I don't get along. Never had. Never will. I'm not from the right side of the tracks, and her daughter should have never eloped with me. What makes it worse is that Marilyn is a very devout church going vigilante. I'm going straight to hell because I won't listen to my mother-in-law. As long as she's not there, I'll take my chances.

Joyce is a whiz with numbers. She has already moved into a lead analyst position at the finance company she works for. Realizing helping with our finances would be a losing battle, I've turned over all of our finances for Joyce to handle. I still do the brokerage research and buy/sell decisions. Being good with numbers doesn't always equate to understanding financial markets.

As for myself, I work for an exchanged listed company in the trademark infringement office. Although not an attorney, my background is heavily laced with business law.

We've talked about children, and the old biological clock is ticking. Joyce turns thirty six next week. Marilyn has become very annoying asking when she can expect her grandchildren.

As tax time approaches, Joyce travels to her parents to help them do their taxes. Marilyn and Darrell, Joyce's father, keep their receipts in a shoebox. They have some limited partnerships which make their returns less than a slam dunk. We live outside of Baltimore, and Joyce doesn't mind the drive.

Thursday morning we got up early, had a steamy romp in the sack, and then enjoyed a nice breakfast at our favorite diner. With a kiss and a hug, she waved goodbye as she drove off towards Philadelphia. With traffic and construction delays, it will take her about three hours.

+ + + +

Thursday night I was just about to turn the television off, when my cell phone chimed. Normally I don't answer phone calls from anyone not in my contacts. This call was from 'Chase Fraud Detection'. Since most of my charge cards are issued by Chase, I decided to see if this was legitimate or another phishing scam.

"Hello."

It was an automated call 'This is a call from Chase regarding your credit card ending in 6942. Please call the number on the back of your credit card. If you cannot find that credit card, call us at 1-800...'

Well shit! I dug out my credit card and called the customer service number on the back. After a minute or two of punching numbers, I was connected with a live agent. She made me jump through hurdles, then voiced their concerns.

"Mr. Norman, can you confirm a hold for a twelve hundred dollar charge at the Hilton Times Square?"

"No way is that legitimate. My wife is in Philadelphia and I'm in Baltimore."

"Very well. How about $123.45 at Gallagher's Steakhouse in midtown Manhattan?"

"Not us. I think you need to cancel that card and send us replacements."

"I can do that, however I have one more for you. I take it that the Ticket Stub purchase for $136.00 is also not yours?"

"That would be correct."

"Very well then. We will continue our investigation. Please refrain from using those cards again. New cards will be mailed to you soon. Is there anything else I can assist you with tonight?"

"No, thank you."

It was a bit upsetting to find out that you've been hacked. How, where, and when were bouncing around in my mind. It was well past bedtime, so there was no hurry to contact Joyce. I'll call her in the morning and let her know what's going on. Hopefully she has her own credit card with her, or enough cash to buy the gas she needs to get home. She can always borrow some money from her parents.

+ + + +

On Friday morning, after Joyce's phone went straight to messages, with every attempt I'd made since waking up, I resorted to calling her parents. If I was lucky, Marilyn would be tied up and Darrell would answer the phone.

My favorite mother-in-law answered her landline. In her nerve grating whiney voice "Hello?"

"Marilyn, this is John. I've been trying to reach Joyce. Is she available?"

"No. She's out running errands for me. Can I give her a message?"

"No, she'll find out soon enough."

There was a little panic in Marilyn's next response "Wha, what, what do you mean?"

That struck me as more than a little odd.

"What does it matter to you Marilyn? Just tell her that the credit card is cancelled and that she may need to borrow money from you to get home."

"OH GAWD YOU KNOW! John, you can't leave her there. Please don't do anything rash. Let her talk to you first. Promise me you'll do that. She loves you John."

What the fuck? What in the hell is she talking about? I stalled trying to make some sense out of her statements. I was a little slow on the uptake, but it finally bit me in the ass. My mother in law is covering for Joyce. My heart was racing now. I disconnected the call.

Within thirty seconds, I was on the phone with the Hilton Times Square front desk. They didn't balk when I asked to be connected to Joyce Norman's room.

A man answered the phone "Hello?"

My heart immediately started to ache "Is Mrs. Norman available?"

"May I ask what this pertains to?"

"It's about her credit card."

"Again? Hold on."

Confirming my marriage was over, Joyce picked up the handset "This is Joyce."

"Hey ex, your mom told me I might find you here. She said to wait for you to explain things before I did anything rash. Better hurry with that explanation as I need to treat that rash."

There was a shriek, the sound of a handset bouncing around, and then a loud thump. For a few seconds it was dead quiet.

The man picked up the handset "What in the hell did you tell her? She's out cold on the floor."

"She recognized my voice as being that of her husband. Tell her I'm shipping her crap to her parents. You better never quit looking over your shoulder shithead."

When there wasn't a response forthcoming, I ended the call. Did I have a strategy? None. Would I find out anything or have I just blown any chance of getting at the truth? No doubt, I've obviously been played, so does it really matter?

I needed to wrap my head around this. This does mean she's having an affair, doesn't it? My heart ached at that thought. What else could it possibly be? Not wanting to make mistakes, with my current projects, I took the remainder of Friday off.

Normally I'd bring home some folders to review over the weekend. Today, I not only left with empty hands, but an empty heart as well.

Dropping by the office supply store, on the way home, I picked up a package with a half dozen shipping boxes. Other than about ten pairs of shoes, and her heavier winter coats, I packed the boxes with all of Joyce's clothing. I didn't bother with her bathroom supplies and I didn't want to risk shipping her jewelry.

After my trip to the office supply store, to ship the boxes, I hurried home to a house that now echoed.

+ + + +

Once home, I logged into our bank accounts and changed the PIN and password. I handle all of our brokerage account transactions, but I changed that password too. If she puts her thinking cap on she can guess the new password 'shesa2facedSLUT'. A minimum of eight characters with at least one uppercase, one lowercase, and a number. That works.

One might think that I'd hear from Joyce first. I know I did, but it was Marilyn's phone number buzzing my cell phone.

"Hello Marilyn. Long time. How have you been? Darrell doing alright?"

"You asshole. Why did you tell Joyce that I told you where she was?"

"My bad. All you FUCKING hypocrites seem to blend together. Fine Christian woman you turn out to be. I think you just punched your ticket to hell. Maybe I should drop by your church on Sunday and let your fellow bible thumpers weigh in on your conduct."

"John, I told her not to go. I begged her to stay with me, but she went anyway."

"And did you call me? Did you want me to try to stop her? Not looking that way, now is it?"

"I'm sorry John. This was so unlike Joyce, I guess I kind of locked up."

I had to keep Marilyn talking as she thinks I know a lot more than I do "So why now? What made her abandon her marriage vows this time?"

"She still loves you John. I think her curiosity overrode her common sense. Derrick dumped her before he joined the service. They had talked about getting engaged, but then he proposed to another girl. His marriage to that lady didn't last, and I guess they've been in touch with each other for the last two months."

My gut was reeling. Tossed aside for what? Someone who didn't want her. The irony wasn't lost on me, and I started chuckling.

"John, are you laughing?"

"I am. I'm in Joyce's shoes now. Once upon a time she was cast aside by someone who wanted someone else. Now I find that she's cast me aside to be with someone else."

"I know that's not true John. She was so distraught, that she collapsed and was taken to the hospital. They are calling it a panic attack. When I talked to her, just before I called you, she said she is afraid to talk to you. Divorce is the last thing she wants."

"Well, unlucky her. She gets the last thing she wanted. Joyce left to be with her lover, and now I'm leaving her with that lover. He obviously doesn't have any money or she wouldn't have had to pay for the room, meals, and theatre tickets."

"Please John. Don't do anything without thinking it through. The two of you can get past this, I know it."

"You keep thinking that Marilyn. Any other surprises you want to come clean on?"

"John, we've never liked each other, but Joyce proved me wrong. You're a good man. I don't want to see my baby suffer, so please think about it."

"Marilyn, you had your chance to prove that you thought I was a good man, and you let her go anyway. Worse, you were still trying to cover for her when I called this morning. I see where Joyce gets her two faced skills from. Say hi to Darrell for me."

I disconnected. Although it was late Friday afternoon, I was able to get an appointment with a divorce attorney. She said she had a 7 Pm appointment available, so I was in her office at 6:45 Pm. She warned me that a judge would recommend counseling, as this appeared to be an isolated incident. I told her to file anyway and that I'd sit through whatever the judge ordered.

+ + + +

Twenty four hours ago I was a happily married man. Twelve hours ago I was pissed about a credit card, but still happily married. Here I sit, exactly twenty four hours later, packing suitcases and wondering why I wasn't enough. When my cell phone indicated that Joyce was calling, I almost let it go to messages.

"Hey!"

"John, sorry doesn't begin to explain my actions, but I am so sorry. So, so sorry. The doctors gave me something and told me not to drive. I didn't figure you wanted to drive to New York City and pick me up, so my parents are on their way. I'm afraid to ask, but I have to know. Have you given any thought about what you're going to do?"

"Not only thought, my plan is already in action. Six boxes of your clothes have been shipped to your parents. The bank and brokerage accounts are frozen and I've instructed my attorney to serve you with divorce papers."

After a guttural moan I heard a few sobs "Please don't do that John. I lost my way. I need you. I want you."

"Joyce, tonight is not the time to be looking for sympathy from me. Try me again in a month or two. I'll text you my attorney's phone number. Unless you want to be served at work, you better work something out with her."

Joyce was sobbing too hard to understand. Every once in a while I heard 'I love you', but that failed to sway me. I disconnected without saying anything, mostly because I wanted to call her every hateful thing I could think of.

The last place I wanted to sleep at was our house. After checking into an extended stay place, sleep came slowly, and the dawn wasn't far behind it. My internal clock said 'rise and shine' but my gut was still twisted. Every time I thought of Joyce, I imagined some sleaze ball buried deep in her cunt. My face was flush and my palms were sweaty. Although I did eat breakfast, it didn't taste very good. The coffee, both pots of it, went down a lot easier.

After breakfast, I dropped by the house to resume packing. There was no way I was spending another day here. I'll let Joyce figure out what she wants. I don't want the memories. Not finding Joyce here was a bonus. Perhaps she spent the night at her parents' house. That made more sense as she was drugged up, probably emotionally spent, and driving like that wouldn't have been safe.

+ + + +

As predicted, the judge ordered counseling. I made every roll call, but spoke in one or two word sentences.

Joyce launched her attack "John, we have twelve years together. Are you going to throw it all way because I screwed up?"

"Well Joyce, tell me. What did I do wrong? For you to do what you did, I must have screwed up big time."

Diverting her eyes "You didn't do anything wrong."

"So, even though I didn't do anything wrong, you decided to throw away a twelve year marriage. I, on the other hand, am being unreasonable and am throwing away a twelve year marriage, even though YOU MORE THAN FUCKED UP! Do I have something wrong here?"

As if on cue, Joyce's tears started flowing. We waited in silence. Our fearless marriage counselor sat there like a moron before finally speaking "Joyce, I believe John asked you a question."

Fighting through the sobs "No, but I want you back. Please?"

"Not happening. Going back to your first love tells me that you never gave me your heart. I'll survive and find someone to share my love with. You are out of the picture."

After our third session, the counselor informed the judge that reconciliation was not going to happen. Four months and a few days after we last shared a bed, my divorce was granted.

+ + + +

Epilogue:

Joyce ended up getting a restraining order against Derrick. He couldn't believe that Joyce didn't want to hook up with him, so he began stalking her. Did I miss Joyce? Sure, but not enough to ever reconcile. She still sends cards and notes, but I never respond.

It took a few years, but I found someone. I'm going to be a daddy.

Joyce better hurry if she wants a child. It's got to be killing Marilyn.

Speaking of Marilyn, she has called me a few times. She wants to know if I really think she is going to hell. Her pastor told her that I needed to forgive her. Yanking her chain is way too easy to do. I'll probably join her in hell.