Strange Car in the Driveway - Dude

Tomorrow, the Buick will make its debut on campus, if all goes well. If things go as well as today, then my revenge on the asshole and the instructor will be complete. That only leaves my wife. I decide to put them aside and call my children. I also decide not to listen to that recording until after my call home, just in case there's something on it that'll cause me to go into a rage.

Vera talks to me for a few minutes after I finish with the kids. She keeps fishing with questions like, "how are you feeling today?" and "when can we talk about all of this?" I deflect, claiming I have too much on my plate with work to talk for at least a few more days. She isn't happy about that, but she doesn't push the issue either.

I settle in for a late dinner - a flat iron steak this time, with baked potato and a bottle of the 'beer of the month.' Then I sit back and play the recording from the first night I'd been gone. I'm certainly glad I called home first.

"Hi Reg," Vera began with a pause and then a sigh. "No, I don't know. He left before I got home; he took some of his things. He's very upset - more than I expected." There's another pause, followed by a giggle.

"Oh my God, Reg! Stop!" She didn't seem too upset by the sound of her voice. "Uh-huh. Trying to cheer me up, are you?"

"Of course I did! And you were right; it made me less nervous, and made our scene more realistic."

"No I didn't! Listen buster, it was just a bit of playing around. I'm glad the stage was pitch black."

Vera was flirting with the prick. I know that tone of voice well. She listened to Reg for a good twenty seconds. Then she seemed to try and regain some sense of decorum.

"Reg, that's not funny. Don't even joke like that. I'll always be appreciative of your help with the scene, and getting an A+, but my family comes first. That will never happen in real life. Got it? Right now, I've got to figure out a way to help my husband understand that I love him, and never meant to humiliate him." Reg must have cut her off.

"Yes, I understand that's what we actually did. But it wasn't real. It was for a grade in a night class."

Then she said, "Yeah, you're right of course. It was real to him. I should have thought about that more, before we did it." Reg was back to talking and she was completely silent.

"NO! Did you not hear me? He'll be back tomorrow or the next day and things will get back to normal. I probably shouldn't have done that. I was just expressing my gratitude for your helping me. Had Penny not canceled at the last minute, it would never have happened."

There was another pause, and I wished so badly that I could hear what the dickhead was saying. Whatever he said, Vera's demeanor changed yet again.

In a low, shaky voice, Vera said, "That's very...kind of you. But he'll return, and then I have to work on making things up to him. Besides, I highly doubt that Penny would appreciate you 'consoling' me."

Vera made excuses, not drawing things out as she sometimes did, and quickly ended the call. The change in her tone from the beginning of the recording to the ending was something. Maybe she was finally realizing what she'd gotten herself into with 'Casanova'. It sounded like she didn't know Reg was no longer married, which was a curious detail, and to me, on the plus side of her ledger. If Vera knew Reg was divorced, and she'd been trying to spin him as a 'safe' married classmate, I believe I would have to end our marriage.

The call told me a few other things, though - bad things. First, Vera had become way too familiar with this bastard. Second, she'd crossed some kind of line during the play itself, and also at Denny's, where she'd invited me to join them. That was at least two occasions, where she'd done more than play-acted for the sake of a vicious prank, but the way she flirted with him - while pretending to worry about me coming home! - told me those might not have been the only ones.

If nothing else, I'm now convinced I need to get that pen recorder from Jake and get the damned thing into her purse. That handbag of hers is a black hole, and she'll never find it there, if I can manage to plant it.

My rage and hurt returns for the rest of the evening. I check my list, then re-check it and drink three more beers. I put seven hundred back in the joint account - not because I'm feeling charitable, but rather, with a divorce suddenly looming more than earlier today, I don't want to look petty in court.

I sleep on and off most of the night.

I'm up early, by five thirty. When the diner down the street from my house opens, I'm one of their first customers of the day. I go through my notes for today and tomorrow, and then I open my email and e-sign the documents from Holt Manufacturing. I look at my watch and see it's already eight ten; I need to get moving.

I park down at the end of my street once again and wait for Vera to return from taking the kids to school. I know her routine well. The first thing she will do is take a shower.

After she pulls into our garage, I give it five minutes exactly on my watch, and then pull into the drive. If I mistime it, I've got an excuse prepared about needing some of my other clothes. I can come back tomorrow and try again.

Coming in the front door, I hear the water running. Then I hear footsteps above me, so I know where she is. My first problem is that I don't see her purse anywhere. Damn. I look all over the first-floor, and there's nothing. Oh well, I'll try again tomorrow. I won't risk going into our bedroom with her right there. On a whim, I carefully open the notoriously squeaky garage entrance off the kitchen and look into Vera's car. There's the purse. Bingo.

For all the success Ray and I had the day prior, today's efforts fall flat. I drive my car, following Ray in the Buick as we make our way over to the English and Literature building of the campus. Before we can even get set up, a campus security officer pulls up, asking questions. I tell him I was going to be late for class, but he doesn't buy it.

"You don't have a parking sticker." he says, examining the LED board on the car roof. He points to it. "What's this for?"

"I'm an Uber driver. It helps the customers find me." That was lame, and he doesn't buy it.

"Either park this off campus and walk back to class, or go to Student Services and pay for your pass," he says. At least he sounds like he doesn't really give shit, beyond us leaving. It could have been worse.

This is a bust. I thank the officer, and, after he gets in his patrol car, I tell Ray to take the Buick back to his shop and that I'll call later to regroup. I stayed up until after midnight recording today's message and I really want to use it.

Just before leaving in my own car, I check my text messages, and there's one from Jake.

"Gary, call me."

I hit audio and call. "Hey Jake, what's up?"

"I have some information for you. Anyone ever asks me, I'll deny it. Reg lives in the apartments called..." I hear him flipping pages "... Archipelago, off University Drive, on the other side of campus. You want to write that down, or make a note on your phone. He also frequents a dive bar called the Rusty Nail 3-4 night per week. That's across campus on College Circle. He drives a black 2005 Porsche 011 Carrera. The plate tag is NZY342."

And as God is my witness, the fucking car is pulling into the lot that I'm exiting. It's like slow motion, as I look at the driver, seeing the cock-sucker for the first time, and he sees me and stares back.

"Gary, can you hear me?" Jake asks. "You still there?"

"Yeah," I reply. "That son-of-a-bitch just passed me. What kind of luck is that?" We talk a few more minutes, and then I'm off to regroup with Ray.

I tell Ray about what just happened leaving the school. He looks at me, almost with pity, and says, "Buddy, can I talk and you listen for a bit?"

I nod, and he hands me a Pabst Blue Ribbon from the mini-fridge.

"This is just one man's opinion, understand? I've given this a lot of thought the past couple days, and the reason I've done that, is because you're my friend. People in your situation are caught up in it and rarely think clearly. I want to tell you what I think, and I hope you'll consider it.

"So far, you're ahead. That fucking Buick and some quick thinking just netted you an annual $40k. So what else do we have? We've got this fucker who has the hots for your wife. He can be dealt with in several ways, and the car can assist in that, but not how we approached things today."

"Hold on," I interrupt. "Before you go on, you should hear what Vera has to say. I recorded her talking to the prick that first night." I open up the browser and choose the file, then play it for Ray.

He listens, and his look tells me he's more distraught. Then he asks me to play it again. There's an uncomfortable silence as we both sit there thinking and drinking.

"Okay, Gary, here's a question," he says seriously. "Where is your line in the sand as far as going back to Vera? What are you willing to accept, and not accept?"

"Well, that is the million dollar question, isn't it?" I say while rubbing my temples. "If she's had sex with him, it's over. That's my absolute line. But there's other, I guess, lesser lines. If she's done something, you know, kiss, make out, whatever; if there have been hand jobs or blowjobs, that's probably a deal breaker for me too, depending on how she acts. If she's contrite, if she's regretful, and I can see she's being sincere, then we have a chance. It's not a fifty-fifty chance, but there is one. If she's unremorseful, then it's over. I won't live like that."

Ray stands and grabs two more beers. "So, if she proves her loyalty, and is repentant, you'd give her a chance, then?"

"Ray, what are you saying? Are you sticking up for her?" I'm starting to get angry again.

"Nah, man," he answers quickly. "I'm just trying to organize your head, is all. Look, after reading her letter, I have to say, I believed her. Now, you know I've known you both a long time. That said I'm friends with you, not her. Plus, you know her better. I can see it going down like she said. That recording, well, that sheds new light on things."

We're quiet some more. Then Ray continues. "I can take care of Reg. More accurately, I can help Sal take care of Reg. He has cause, and we're both tight with the cops. I mean, we take out the trash in this town, literally. I think you should go to Denver, get your head around your new job, and then decide what to do. I also think you have to be honest with your wife about the job, and your expectations of her now and going forward. Lay it out for her before you leave. Ask her if she's cheated, and don't hold anything back. If she really loves you, and she's really sorry, you owe it to her to shoot straight. She'll have to decide if she can meet your demands, and meanwhile, you've been given the gift of time and space. You've got the recording devices, so if she lies or is lying, you'll soon discover the truth."

I sit there in Ray's shop until almost four. He has some really good points, and I think I have to agree with most of them. Then it's time to pick up my daughter from soccer practice, and I decide to go home and spend time with all three. Vera will be there too, obviously, but whatever. In a few days, I'll be gone for three weeks. That's a big deal for the kids. It'll be a big deal for me, too, I think, if I ever calm down.

I play with the kids, and they tell me everything that's happened the last few days. Listening to them, it's like I've been gone a month. Shit, a month. I wait for an opening, then, as gently as possible, I tell them I have to go away on business for three weeks, but I'll call them every night. The look on Vera's face is beyond priceless. After dinner, when the kids go up to their rooms to do homework, Vera comes up next to me.

"Gary, we need to talk," she demands. "Right now."

I grab a beer from the fridge, counting them mentally as I do, and we go out on our back deck.

"Okay, Vera. I'm all ears."

"Gary," she begins. "Please, let's not start like that. I know you're still angry. Where are you going and why?"

"Vera, a lot's happened." I wanted to lie and say I was fired from my job, just to rub salt in the wound, but Ray's words from earlier came rushing back. I knew that if I was going to expect honesty from my wife, then I had to reciprocate. Then it hit me that the truth wasn't that far from what I wanted to say.

"I've lost my job."

Vera gasps, and a shocked look comes across her face. "How? Why?" she asks pleadingly.

"You know exactly why," I say with a shrug. "But unlike you, Ver, my boss had an ulterior motive for playing along with your stupid little plot. She's always been jealous, and afraid I'd take her job."

"But she said you were being promoted." She replies, as if I didn't know my own business.

"Wow, people say things that aren't true sometimes, Vera; imagine that," I deadpan. "When she sent me home that day, she made me feel like I'd done something horribly wrong. Then she told me to be in her office bright and early. Until I saw that fucking car in my spot, her behavior was all that was on my mind. I'm pretty sure that after hearing your plan, she laid it on thick and heavy so maybe I'd do something outrageous or illegal, and then I'd be out of her way."

"Oh my God, Gary, I'm so, so sorry!" she cries out. I just let her deal with the revelation.

"What...oh...what are we gonna do for money?" she says, everything now dawning on her. "Is that why you moved money and told me you were handling the bills? What were you doing? What have you done?"

"No, Vera. What I told you was the truth. As far as money to live, I've gotten a new job. That's why I'm going out of town for three weeks. If you must know, it's at a substantial increase, so money won't be an issue - unless, of course, I have to shell out alimony and child support."

"Gary, don't even think that. We just need to talk this through. Let's do it now. We need to fix this, Gareeeee..." she breaks down sobbing and crying. I just let her. I'm glad the kids are too far away to hear her.

After she calms herself, she goes on, "Gary please. I'm begging you, here, to let me in. Forget the apology and all that. Forget about the forgiveness I asked for. I fucked up, honey. I'm sorry. I need you here with me, especially if you're leaving for three weeks. Please baby, let's find a way back." She's hysterical again.

I go over to her and hug her, trying to calm her down. Then I go inside for another beer, a glass of water and tissues. When I come back, she's trying to pull it together. Handing her the water and Kleenex, I trudge forward.

"Ver, listen. There's so much to talk about. The job, for sure. You and I, where we stand, what we can salvage. I can't do all that in one night. I doubt you can either. I have to focus on my new job. I have to pack. I can't afford to be an emotional wreck, and you have to take care of the kids, so neither can you.

"Vera, look at me." I speak more urgently to get eye contact. "This time apart will be good for us. It will give us both the time to think about our future. Obviously, I'm far more upset about this whole thing than you ever expected. I read your letter, several times. I listened to the end of your play too. The problem I'm having - well, one of many problems - is that after listening to your skit, I don't think I can believe your letter."

Vera starts to defend herself, and I hold up my hand. "Maybe when I get back you can convince me, maybe not. Right now I've got only three days to complete my plans and see my kids, and I'm not going to split that time talking about our problems. You caused all of this, Vera."

Vera's lost in my words, and then she pipes up, "What are you talking about? What plans?"

"My boss fucked me over. You went to see her, and you provided the opportunity. I got her demoted and also got a better job in the process. One down, three to go." I leave that to hang in the air.

"Three to go?" she asks, more perplexed than accusatory.

"Yeah. That whacked-out, fucked up professor of yours, lover-boy, and... you."

In the silence, Vera just stares, her face twisted up and frozen. "Gary," she says softly - defeated, maybe. "Please don't. That's not you, honey. You've never been a vengeful man. All of this is on me. I started it, and then I forced your buy-in via the forgiveness. I never thought...expected this type of reaction. Don't go after other people, Gary. Please. Take it out on me. I don't want you doing something that gets you in trouble, something unlawful, that can't be undone."

"You should have thought about that before," I state frankly. "Everyone has to pay the piper, and the rent's coming due. I do have some things I want you to think about. You listen, and you think, then my first night in Denver, I'll call you for the answers - if you want to provide them, that is. If you answer truthfully, then I'll consider your plea to back off the others."

"Of course, Gary." She sounds sincere, at least. "Whatever you want. I'm feeling like I've damaged you irrevocably. Please honey, don't let this change you. You're scaring me."

"Sorry. I have changed. You can help me get back, Vera. It will only require honesty. So, here goes. I want to know truthfully how many time the two of you have fu...had sex. I want to know every single intimate act that's happened since you started seeing him..."

Vera interrupts. "I'll tell you now..."

I cut her off. "Careful, Vera. I've been a very busy bee. I know much more about all of this than you could ever imagine. Don't just jump in with both feet, before thinking about it. One lie and we're through. That's how close we are. Understand? The final thing I want to know is everything that you've ever told him about us, about me. Oh, yes, one more thing: who's the owner of that iPad?"

Vera stares at me. She's right; she does look like she suddenly doesn't even know me.

"Whose is it, Ver?" I ask again, snapping her back to the conversation.

"It's Reg's."

"Okay," I sigh for effect. "I'll bring it back tomorrow when I come over to see the kids. Make sure you get my gun back from him, and that it's here for me to examine tomorrow as well, or I'll call the police and report it stolen. Legally, it's already been out of my sight too long, so it's my responsibility to say something."

"It is here. I brought it home with me... that night."

I laugh at her. "Yeah, you brought it home the same night you were so worried about me using it. See, that's what I'm talking about, right there. I don't trust you; don't believe you, because at least one of those is a lie. I know you, Vera. There are things you're keeping from me, or at least to yourself. Tell me, why would you steal a man's gun and claim to hide it, if you're so worried about him using it in a rage? Or, why would you bring it back to that man, on the same night he was raging hardest about your little stunt?

"You know what, Vera? Don't answer that. Just go get me the gun so I can pack it for my trip. That's just a small example of how our impending talk is going to go. Now I have to go say good-bye to the kids. I'll be back tomorrow, and I'm spending the night on my sofa so I can see them off to school before heading to Denver."

Vera knows better than to engage in any further conversation tonight. That's the problem when people start down the dark path of lies. It's pretty hard to get off of it.

I drive to the Rusty Nail and park the Buick in a space between two light posts. It's not exactly stealth, but it'll do. Ray, for all he'd said earlier in the day, has the good sense not to try and stop me.

"Here," he said a half hour earlier tossing me the keys. "Be smart, and don't do anything that will take your kid's father away. When you bring it back, use the code, and watch out for my dogs." Ray's pit bulls knew me well, but they'd still go crazy when the gate opened late at night.