Same Old Song and Dance Ch. 02

I didn't have the money to have her put cameras in every room. And trying to bribe one of the motel employees would more than likely have tipped off the people we were trying to get evidence on.

However, the photos and videos that she did get were damning enough. Why would my loving wife be going into a motel room in the middle of the day with three men? Why would she come out, while still pulling her clothes on and head for home like a bat out of hell two hours later?

Why were men that I never met, visiting her in my house? That was the worst because the PI actually got some footage there in my home. It erased all doubt. For months while the information was being gathered, I had been in denial.

I guess, I found a way to be more efficient, as engineers often do. I was combining the classic stages of grief. I combined denial and bargaining into one stage. I guess you could call it "denargaining."

I kept hoping I was wrong and that Terry had simply misunderstood what he had seen. But at the same time, I hoped that if it was true. Let it only be something simple or trivial. Let what Terry saw, just two people mutually fondling each other be as far as it went.

The PI's bill was far less than I expected. She had actually subtracted any revenue she'd generated from selling decks and other home improvements from my costs. And she sold a lot of decks and room additions to lonely men in town.

Her last words to me before she left were that I needed to have a serious talk with my wife. And that if I wanted to stay married to her, I should just turn the entire file over to my lawyer without reading it. She was sure that if I saw it, read the information, listened to the tapes, or watched the videos, that Donna and I were done.

I thought about that. For two days, the file sat in my car. And then on a day that normally wasn't busy ... one of those days that I would normally have stayed home, I went through the entire file as dispassionately as I could.

The file was very professional and also very thorough. By the time I had finished it, there were tears running down my cheeks. The PI with her usual degree of thought made several suggestions. One of them had my heart beating in my chest so hard that I was sure my colleagues in the next office could hear it.

I had to hold things together long enough to get one last bit of information. I gathered what I needed that weekend at a family picnic at our cabin overlooking a nearby lake.

As usual, of late, Lana was with us. But she invited a few other girls and a couple of Terry's friends too. We grilled, and sailed and swam for two days. During that time, I got a chance really to take a look at how things were. I didn't look at how I wanted things to be; I looked at how they were.

I was in love with and broken hearted about a woman who clearly had never been the woman I thought she was. Perhaps I didn't have the reasons why, but Donna had never been faithful to me.

It's a weird trick that our minds play on us, but we tend to look at the things we own or that belong to us in a much more favorable light than those we don't have and probably never will.

When I look at my Mustangs, I tend to idealize them. However, when I look at a Lambo or a Ferrari, I minimize them and rationalize them. When someone asks me why I need my cars to go as fast as they do, my answers are glib or sarcastic. More than once I've told someone that if they don't own one, they'll never understand it.

On the other hand, when you hear that a Ferrari does 0 - 60 a full second faster than my cars, my answer is usually something like, "Yeah but that car cost ten times what my car does just for that second. And who wants to spend ten grand on a brake job."

For years now, I had been doing the same thing to Donna. I was still seeing her as the cute, slim, bubbly, innocent, girl that I had married. But twenty years later, she had morphed into a plain, fat, sleazy, lying, skank.

The only thing good about the years I had wasted on Donna, were our kids. Sherry scared the living shit out of me. She looked and acted so much like Donna did at her age that I began to watch her more closely, wondering if she had already begun cheating on Mark.

Terry, on the other hand, wore his heart in his sleeve. He somehow did not inherit my ability to compartmentalize and move on. The boy had the prettiest girl in town throwing herself at him and jumping through hoops, but he couldn't seem to get past an okay looking waitress, who was probably cut from the same cloth as his whorish mother.

The thing I felt the worst about was that I couldn't tell him that I knew. I had to wait until the time was right. But it would only be a few more days. The relationship between Terry and Donna was scary. Donna was all over herself trying to rebuild the bridges between them. But Terry wasn't having it.

That left only the light of my heart. Debbie was the one of my kids that I spent the least amount of time with, but felt the closest to. She was the only one of the kids who was interested in running, and she was fast. Debbie at thirteen could keep up with Terry and could actually beat him over longer distances. She also had that thing that a lot of people attributed to me. When we ran we were enjoying ourselves, and it showed. Neither of us looked as if we were in pain when we ran. We smiled, because it was fun to us.

One thing I did learn from Terry though, was that I should probably be prepared for a long dry spell. I had overheard Terry talking to some of his friends, and the subject of sex had come up. Lana intended on going to the alter as a virgin. She also intended to wait until she graduated and went to med school to marry. So someone was in for a long wait before getting between those well sculpted legs. However, from looking at her, I had the feeling that it would be worth it.

But Terry insisted that they were only friends, and they were helping each other get over being cheated on. His intention was to start playing the field back at school. He wanted to find someone totally new. I was sure that my son was making a mistake. He also wisely avoided further confrontations with Jeff.

Jeff was the biggest fool of them all. He began hanging with and fooling around with some of the girls in the trailer park on the edge of town. He'd made sure to tell everyone who would listen that it had been he who'd dumped Lana. He told them that he had no intention of wasting his youth waiting for Lana to have sex with him. He simply didn't date girls who didn't put out.

Before mid-summer had passed, there were rumors that Jeff had gotten two or three of the trailer park's inhabitants pregnant. One of them was a fat forty-year-old woman. Jeff claimed that the forty-year-old had used her eighteen-year-old daughter to get him drunk enough to have sex with her. When he woke up the next morning, with a splitting headache, and lying next to a woman who was old enough to be his mother and weighing almost twice what he did, he had run screaming into the early morning. Several weeks later, she had shown up at his father's car lot, demanding to know where he was and clutching a positive pregnancy test in her claw.

The only person in our town who looked as forlorn as Terry was Kira. She was always alone and she always looked as if the world had simply stopped spinning. My heart went out to her. I made it a point to always be polite to her and always tell her the truth.

She always asked me about Terry. "Physically, he's fine," I always said. "Emotionally, he may never get over you. Maybe, he'll just have to learn to deal with it. You're a tough act to follow, Kira."

"He's got Lana," she would sob. "She's a lot prettier than me."

"To whom," I always asked. "I don't think Terry thinks so. They're only friends."

I wondered too about my future. At 46, I was still young enough, and still had time enough to find someone new to spend the rest of my life with. I was only a little more than halfway through my life. But the thought of finding someone else made me want to vomit. I hated the thought of dating, and church socials, and e-harmony ads. It would be easier to find a new car to love and devote all of my time and money to. Maybe I could be one of those grand fathers who traveled a lot and babysat his grandchildren.

During that time, I was getting my fill of sex. Donna and I were going at it like newlyweds. I was trying things with her that was kinkier than normal for us, but still not too far from there. The sex act itself was different too. I imagined Donna, not as my wife of many years, but as some fat hooker that I had picked up on the street and could use any way I chose, because I was the one paying for it.

I kissed her more when we were just standing around. But they were just pecks or kisses on the cheek as opposed to the full-on romantic kisses that were common between us before. I guess the increased volume made up for the lessening of intensity. During sex, I simply didn't kiss her any more. I was too busy fucking her as hard as I could and slapping her on that fat ass.

I can still remember the shocked look on her face from last week, just after we got done. We were lying there, and she rolled over to me. "I know what's going on, Gregory," she said.

I was guarded and ready for an argument. "What," I asked.

"The last time we fucked that hard was when we were trying to make Debbie," she smirked. "I'm forty-eight years old, Honey. You're trying to get me pregnant again. I think you could have done it too, but I had my tubes tied after Debs was born remember? Is this one of those ... Guy getting older things?"

"One of those what," I said, trying not to laugh.

"You know when you guys get older you start to wonder whether or not you're still virile enough to get a woman pregnant? Some of you guys start to lose your hair, and you do stupid things like getting hair implants or buying a sports car. Some of you have an affair and end up getting some girl pregnant. They call it a midlife crisis. Only in your case, you're trying to get ME pregnant. You've also been a little bit rougher lately and some of the things you've wanted me to do are pretty nasty," she said.

"I'm ... " I began.

"Don't say you're sorry," she said. "You are doing exactly what I would want you to do. I would much rather have you work your kinks out with me than with some young slut. You aren't losing your hair, and your Mustangs are the only cars you're interested in, so we're fine. I almost wish I could give you another baby. But in a few years, we'd both resent it. When we're in our fifties and sixties, I want us to travel and see the world. In five years, Debbie will be in college, and Terry will be done and working. Who knows, maybe he'll have married Lana. Can you imagine how great his life will be? Our son, a successful engineer, married to a doctor. They'll be rich."

I smiled at the thought. In the end that really is all that most parents want for their kids. We want them to lead full and happy lives.

"Debbie will be in college and calling you constantly for money," she continued. "But we would be able to take weekend trips or even cruises and you could start using up some of that vacation time you have squirreled away. But another baby would only prolong and complicate our lives. So do you really want to spend another eighteen to twenty years before we can start enjoying our time? I don't want to spend the rest of my life with a baby, Greg. I want to spend it with you."

I almost believed her. In a lot of ways she reminded me of Terry's girlfriend Kira. Kira made a mistake too. And she was miserable about it. Terry was miserable too. The difference was that while Terry had immediately severed ties with Kira. There was nothing keeping them together except for the fact that they liked each other. Either one of them could have left the relationship at any time. In a way, they both had. Kira had decided on her own that the relationship wouldn't be an exclusive one when she started sleeping with Jeff. Terry had simply decided that he didn't want to be a part of that type of relationship.

I wish that I had the same type of freedom, but it was good that I didn't. My children had to be protected.

When the news I had been waiting for came in, it sent me into shock. All of my plans suddenly changed. I had imagined that I would have Donna served and move into an apartment that I already rented. I figured that I would have a talk with the kids to explain to them what was going on and in the cases of the older children, why it was happening.

The problem was that I was a human being. I had feelings and emotions that simply overwhelmed me. I was left wondering about my life and even my place in the world. I wasn't even sure who I was or what I was because I certainly wasn't the man I'd been the day before.

I called in sick and stayed home from work. I didn't shave. I didn't even go out to run. I didn't do anything. I just sat out on my deck and stared at the world.

Donna had no idea what was going on. I knew that she was getting antsy. She had no idea, whether to go out on the pretense of some household errand or to try to figure out why I'd stayed home.

I knew that Donna was cheating on me. She had stopped at first, but once she got the idea that Terry wasn't going to rat her out; she went right back to what she'd been doing. By that time, she was back on her usual schedule.

It was just before noon. She was due at the motel on the outskirts of town. She came and sat down beside me.

"Greg, Honey, what's wrong?" she asked. "You've never in over twenty years, called in sick if you weren't really sick."

"I just didn't feel like going today. I'll go back tomorrow," I said. I didn't turn to look at her as she spoke because I wasn't sure, how long I could keep control without hitting her.

It was all going wrong. I intended to confront her at the motel with her lover or lovers and embarrass her and them. I intended to make the whole thing as public as possible. The men that she had been with who were married deserved to lose their marriages and to fare terribly in their divorces, and Donna did too.

But somehow, in the cold light of day, none of it mattered anymore. The drama and confrontation were petty. Embarrassing her and her lovers was petty and childish.

"Greg, Sherry, and Mark are coming over for dinner tonight. They want to have a serious talk. Sherry wants to have a baby. Mark thinks they should wait a few more years until they're financially able to support a child without any problems. He's worried about their health insurance and having some savings in the case of an emergency," she said.

I didn't say anything, and she sat down next to me. "What do you think about it, Greg," she asked.

I was so awash with confusion that I had no idea what to say. I was totally screwed up in a way that I had never been before at any point in my entire life. I felt love. I felt the very deepest, most tender love that I could ever muster. At the same time, my body and mind were burning with a hatred so intense that the devil would have been afraid of me. Besides those two conflicting emotions, I felt a sense of confusion. I had no idea what to say to her.

She leaned over and touched my shoulder. She'd done it so many times over the past twenty-odd years that it was like second nature to her. It was the contact that did it. It was as if her skin touching mine lit a fuse, and my temperature rose beyond my ability to control it.

"Greg, what do you ...?" she began.

"Why the fuck are you asking me?" I screamed. "I think you should ask her God damned FATHER! If you even know who he is!"

The fury of my response shocked her. She was confused and then searched my face for the meaning behind my words.

"Greg you're her father," she said. "What do you ...?"

I got up and went into the house. I went into the office and grabbed my briefcase. I pulled out the reports that I had received the night before.

I slammed them down on the counter in front of her. I didn't say a word. She looked at the reports. At first, she looked at the graphs and the numbers. She clearly didn't understand it. Then the text from the reports explained it all. Her eyes widened in shock.

"This is clearly wrong," she said quietly. "How can I be their mother, if you're not their father? Someone at the lab made a mistake. It happens all the time. Wait, look at this ... They got this one right. You are clearly Debbie's father. We'll get this fixed, Honey. Who else could be our kids' father? The reports don't even say that. This is clearly wrong."

"So, let's say it is wrong and they reverse it," I said. "Wouldn't that mean that I was Sherry and Terry's father and not Debbie's?"

"Uhm ... I don't know how any of this works," she said.

"Maybe one of the men you've been fucking for all of these years is her father. Or maybe one or two of them are Sherry and Terry's fathers," I said.

She just looked at me and burst out in tears. "Greg, we have to talk about this, Honey," she said. "I'm so sorry. It ..."

"Just not sorry enough to quit, right?" I spat. "Back a couple of months ago, when Terry caught you, most people would have viewed it as a warning sign and gave it up. Not you, huh?"

"I couldn't just stop," she said. "I needed time to ..."

"You had a choice and clearly our marriage and our family were not the top priority," I said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she screamed. "Our family is the most important thing in my life. I'm no worse than you, dragging our son out to that God damned garage to work on cars all the time. What about you forcing my baby, our youngest child, to run all of those miles with you. We've both made mistakes Greg. We need to sit down and talk about this ..."

"You know I had intended to do this differently," I said. "I had intended to embarrass you and your lovers in that sleazy motel you go to on Wednesdays. I was going to have a few of their wives with me, like they do in those Internet divorce stories. But, that would have just turned this into a circus. And I just want all of this shit over. Just get your clothes and get the fuck out of my house. You want us to talk? Get a lawyer. My intention was to give you the house, but the fact is that you don't deserve it. I wanted us to have joint custody and for me to have unlimited visitation rights. But I need my lawyer to draw this up differently."

"You have a lawyer?" she sobbed. "How long have you known? That bastard Terry! He told you didn't he?"

"Terry didn't tell me anything. I've known for months. I hired a PI that got me all kinds of information on you and what you've been doing. I know pretty much all of it. I know that you started cheating on me before we were ever married. And now I have proof that you cheated on me while we were married.

I was sure already that we couldn't be together anymore, but finding out that my kids aren't even MY kids is just the icing on the cake. I'm trying very hard to remain in control right now, so just get out," I said.

"Greg, we need to talk," she said. She looked as if all of the air had left her lungs. She appeared to having difficulty breathing. "I do love you. You just don't understand this. I can explain it all."

"GET OUT," I screamed.

"But wh ... where will I go?" she asked.

"You've been sleeping with four or five guys," I said. "I'm sure one of them will put you up for the night."

"I'll go to Tara's," she said. "If you need me or you just want to talk, that's where I'll be."

I sat there on the sofa as she ran up the stairs. I could hear her throwing clothes into a bag and then the sound of her coming back down the stairs. She slowed her steps as she got to the bottom of the stairway. I had my eyes as tightly shut as I could get them. I felt her presence near me and thought that she was going to say good-bye.