Strange Car in the Driveway - Dude

"If my devastated husband decides to divorce me, it'll be my fault, one hundred percent. If we find a way forward, it will take a long time for me to earn his forgiveness, and I'll need to spend the greater portion of our lives together making up for what I've done. This is my one-act, real-life assignment to start making amends.

"This car," she continues, sweeping her hand over to that strange vehicle, "is the vehicle Reg borrowed, at my suggestion, to leave in our driveway as a prop." The camera pans slightly and refocuses onto it. It doesn't linger, but it's long enough to see some more of those nasty hashtags.

Vera and the camera return to their prior positions. She gives her remorseful expression a few moments to marinate, and then she shifts gears. She's a little more upbeat; maybe that's not the right word. She's determined. She has a purpose.

"My husband and some of his friends have been using this car as a prop of their own, to right some of our wrongs - Reginald's and mine. He wanted to get it on campus, and play a recording, warning other students - especially married ones - about Reginald and Professor Strausberg. Since he has been unsuccessful up until now, I've enlisted some help from my fellow students, and I am here to issue that warning myself: Reginald Smith didn't threaten me or assault me, but he is a predator. He is a bottom-feeder. He uses Professor Strausberg's class to actively seek out married women, lie to them, and try to get them to cheat on their husbands with him. Professor Strausberg absolutely knows that he's taken her class five times, now. While I have no proof, I definitely think she knows why he keeps coming back too."

Her mission accomplished, Vera's energy wanes again. She gets smaller and casts her eyes downward. It's back to remorse and contrition for the finale.

"Never would I have believed that I could be so ignorant, so selfish, or so cruel," she says. I can see her shaking her head slightly as she does. She looks up at the camera one more time. She takes a deep breath, in and out.

"Obviously I could, because I was. I have a lot of work to do on myself. I need to figure out how to be a better person. I hope I don't have to lose my husband for that to happen, but, well, it turns out I'm not a very good judge of character - especially not of my own.

"Honey, I love you, and I'm sorry," she says. I can practically feel her, recording though it is, making eye contact with me. Hers are wet. Specks of light don't merely reflect, but quiver. "Whether we stay together or not, please don't let my cruelty harden your heart towards anyone else. Find someone better. Love them like you loved me. Live well, and be happy."

The screen on the TV goes dark. There's only silence, combined with a few audible sniffles. All eyes are on me now, and I'm very uncomfortable. I've been blindsided almost as badly as when I came home early to be greeted by that fucking car. Internally, though, my feelings are different.

Then most of the attention seems to shift somewhere to my right, and I turn to see Vera standing next to me. Her eyes are pleading with me in a more honest manner than I've ever seen. I don't want all these people to see me break down. Not here. I turn and walk with purpose into my house, and into the bathroom, locking the door, so I can collect myself.

It takes several minutes to regain control. I splash handfuls of cold water on my eyes and cheeks to control my flush and tears. I know I'll have to face them all again. Why am I acting like a baby? Is it relief? I don't think I'll figure that out tonight. So, with a deep, heavy breath, I walk out and I'm face-to-face with Vera.

She reaches out, not waiting for me to accept her, and hugs me tightly.

"I'm sorry, baby. So sorry, you'll never know. I'm sorry about all this too." She waves her hand towards the back yard.

"Go try to enjoy the party. Those people are all here because they love and support you. I could take lessons. I won't interfere, and I'll stay in the background. The kids have really missed you. You can have them any time you want this week, and I want to remind you that this is your home. I don't have any right to ask, but I'd like for us to talk over the next few days, when you're up to it, so we can decide what life will look like for us moving forward. If you decide to go through with divorce, I won't try to stop you. If that's your plan, I'm hoping I can convince you to put it on hold for a bit, to see if I can show you how much you really mean to me."

I spend the night recalling and sharing about the end of my old job with my friends and family, and bragging a bit about how wonderful the new one is. Surprisingly, very little is said about my problems with Vera. Ray comes over with Sal as most of the original crowd is leaving, and he hands me a beer. "You like your new car, dickhead?" Ray asks, with Sal laughing his ass off.

At some point during a lull, I'd gone out front and studied the totally refurbished Buick. "Yeah," I say. "I don't know how you two pulled that off."

"We used the money from that asshole to redo the interior. Well, we sprung for some too. Rolando and his brother did the body work, and Ray did the paint job himself. Ray also helped Vera get it on campus. Drove right past the rent-a-cop without so much as a look."

"And you're giving it to me?" I ask.

"Damn straight," Sal exclaims. "But if I need to borrow it, no questions asked, okay?"

We all laugh, and then Sal says, "And if you're not claiming your woman, then I'm telling you now I'll be putting on a full-court press. She's one fine chica - not like those cholitas on campus."

Damn, this guy's brazen. At least he's honest.

"I'll be trying to work through it with her, so back off Sal." That earned me a smile from the big, burly bastard.

Vera walks up beside me. "Most everyone has gone home," she says. The kids want to go with my parents, if it's okay with you? They'll just be going to bed anyway at this late hour. You can get them in the morning."

"Yeah," I sigh. "It is late, isn't it?"

"Well, I do have an ulterior motive for sending them," she says with an evil smile. "I was kind of wondering, well, asking, if you could take me for a night drive, in your new... pussy wagon."

I put my arm around Vera. "Of course. I think that little stunt of yours earned you that much. Don't get any ideas, though. I still haven't had my revenge."

"Oh, you've had little, honey," she replies warmly, "but you did teach me a lesson in the process, and it was a lesson I really needed to learn. You could have just walked away, but you tried to get me to understand just how fucked in the head I was. I'd say you succeeded. I just hope you'll let me prove that you did."

"Okay, Vera," I say finally. "Oh, and, by the way: I forgive you."

Epilogue:

Yes, we went for a drive, but we didn't say much. Vera just cuddled up next to me on the bench seat. No, it wasn't like riding off into the sunset, like in some Hollywood romance movie. We didn't make mad, passionate love that night; neither of us was ready for that, and, frankly we were both drained physically and emotionally. We did sleep together - next to each other, I guess you could say.

Vera and I did stay together, and not just for our children. She worked hard to rebuild the trust and respect that had been damaged. She was very patient that first year whenever I had a bad day over our troubles. She kept her word, about everything, and our relationship is now stronger than ever.

Most importantly, she finally understands exactly how she hurt me. She knows that even if there'd been no sleazebag at all - if her 'prank' had been pure fiction, start to finish - that she'd still have crossed a line. Some things you just don't joke about; some things are sacred.

Professor Strausberg retired the following spring. How much Reg's sleaziness or Vera's stunt played a role, we'll never know.

Reg hasn't been seen around our town since his run in with Ray and Sal.. He's probably trying to set up another scam to that same end. Maybe it'll be cooking classes this time around. Pottery, perhaps? As long as he's doing it somewhere far away from my wife, I just can't bring myself to care.

My former company still employs Mrs. Wilkins, but so what? I love my new job, and the pay is incredible.

Vera and I have not only forgiven each other on numerous occasions, but we've also made a game of it - you know, one of those games. The strange car isn't so strange anymore, and is now prominently and proudly on display in my driveway.