SWIB 05.5: Trading Up

I originally entitled this story SWIB 05, Too. That title was rejected as too similar. (One of my ideas which apparently was too clever, by half). Since I introduced the first title in SWIB 05, I decided on this compromise -

SWIB 05 and 05, too are about one husband talking another's wife into trading up. As SWIB 05 revealed, the wandering hubby's sales pitch was far less than sincere. SWIB 05, Too is the story of Dan Collins, the husband of the wife convinced to trade up. The BTB crowd should be happy by the end, too.

Both 5 and 5, Too are told in time sequence. However, the stories are independent, events which occurred in one story may not be repeated in the other story. I have tried, in 5 Too, to make clear where it fits in the other story, where required. Telling two stories independently which occur on the same timeline is complex enough.

The basic characters are the same: Anne and Mike Walters and Elizabeth (Betty) and Dan Collins. Mike, a serial philanderer, is trying to make Betty his most recent. She resisted and he upped the stakes until she waivered.

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I don't know where to start, really. My name is Dan Collins. As this tale starts, I have been married to Elizabeth (Betty) nee Daniels Collins for five years. We are both from the same small town in rural Ohio. Both of us are the first in our family to have graduated from college. Both of us are the only ones in our family to have left our hometown in search of a better life in the big city.

We were twenty-one and freshly out of college when we married. We'd known one another our whole lives. We had a stormy beginning if you count third grade as our point of beginning. Betty decided I was her boyfriend. I decided she had cooties. She tried to kiss me - I all but cried rape. I embarrassed her. I was on her shit list for quite a while after that.

Both of our families were poor, at least relatively poor. She had a brother and sister. I had a brother and two sisters. College was not in the cards unless we paid/borrowed our own way. For whatever reason, at an early age, both of us decided we wanted out of small-town life. We wanted a college degree and a chance to make our mark in the world.

There were a couple of scholarships available, in our town which were awarded to outstanding students. There were also National Merit awards and other sources. Both of us spent most of our high school years assuring we got scholarships, and we both did.

That's how our romance started. Kids in high school do high school things. They go from being children to near-adults. Moving toward adult activities without any of that pesky judgement. Everyone we knew was being a highschooler, we were dedicated to being students. Neither of us dated much, so we were not on anyone's A (or B or C) list. When there was an event, I asked Betty.

We were thrown together as the two poor kids aspiring to be more. But our romance turned into so much more. Being a serious student doesn't impact hormones. So, when our bodies wanted to learn about becoming adults, we were always together.

We had such common interests and goals. I guess if you polled one hundred high school kids, on a Friday night, not too many of them would be excited about how well they had done on the physics exam. None would talk about reading Nathaniel Hawthorne or Charlotte Bronte - but we did. Our interests were the same, our plans the same. Falling in love was easy.

Our families got along well. Remarkably similar kinds of people. By the time we were juniors, everyone knew we would marry.

Fate dealt us a bad blow. She got a partial scholarship to the University of Cincinnati; I got a similar scholarship to Youngstown State. We were from South-East Ohio she went to school in South-West Ohio, and I was in North-East Ohio. Before we left for college, we gave each other our virginity. Then, we were on our separate ways.

Many young romances break up with that kind of distance. But for us, college was much like high school. We were students first and had little time for anything or anyone else.

Each time we got together; our romance grew. Oh, how I loved her. She was pretty, smart, and funny - what a sense of humor. We loved a lot and when we weren't loving, we were laughing. We planned our future.

Unfortunately, life doesn't highly regard the plans of 20-year-olds.

We weren't offered our "best" job in the same city. We decided we'd take my offer since she had an acceptable offer in that city as well. I got lucky. The first assignment I had was remarkably successful and I was offered a promotion and transfer to Charlotte. Betty was glad to go, her job was not what she wanted.

The move was good and bad. I was making 50% more, she was making nothing. She needed to work, and we needed the money. But we weren't desperate, she didn't need to settle as she had with her first job.

A week passed, then a month, then three, she was getting anxious, and I feared she was looking for anything. I decided I'd try a different tact. "Sweetie, I am making a lot more money now. Being in the HQ, I am liable to be promoted again before too long. Why don't we move our plans up a few years? You stop taking the pill and we'll see if we can't bring some more Collins into this world."

"Dan, we can't. There is no money yet for a house down-payment and we don't want to raise our children in an apartment."

She was right, unfortunately. I was in an outstanding position for potential advancement but making too little to support a wife and child. Betty needed to find work and now was nearly two years out of college, unemployed, and having never really held a job for which she was trained.

"Something will turn up. I am being pickier this time." The words came easily to her, but I knew she was not an optimist, nor was she patient. Something needed to break and break our way, fast.

I kept encouraging her to go with what life was giving us. She was going to find something better. Our life was still exciting. Maybe, thinking about it, my life was still exciting. My job was becoming larger and larger. I was working on a new method to store energy created by solar, or wind for that matter. We couldn't get the development done, fast enough. My workdays got longer and that meant more time alone for poor Betty.

Two people can agree the best logical move is to favor the career of one of them. Sound logic doesn't help when you sit at home alone, with a meal you'd rather not have prepared, in the first place, and hubby is late, again.

One day, I came dragging in about eight o'clock. The apartment smelled wonderful. I couldn't tell what she'd cooked, but from the aromas, it was to be a feast. She ran to me and almost knocked me down.

"I have wonderful news. Wonderful!"

"You found something?"

"Not just something. I am to be the assistant to Mike Walters, the CEO of Home Excellence."

"Wow." I paused, "wow! what does that mean?"

"Dan, it is the craziest thing. They had an opening in their sales department. I interviewed with some woman, and we were getting along all right - though, I was not too impressed with the job. Suddenly, this man walks in and introduces himself. Mike Walters, himself."

"So, what is this Mr. Walters like?"

"Well - he's about ten years older, I'd guess, handsome, but what is impressive about him is he has this energy."

"Energy?"

"Let me tell this. Mike asked what we were doing and Doris, who was interviewing me, told him the job she was interviewing me for. He got curious and wanted to know what my qualifications were. She handed him my resume."

"He just took over?"

"Da-yan," she has a way of stretching my name into two distinct syllables when she grows impatient, recently, that was too often. "In a flash, he asked if I would be interested in working for him, for more money. Doris didn't wait for my answer. She merely asked if he needed her and didn't wait for that answer, either. She walked out of the room."

She looked toward the kitchen, "Oh, I have a bottle of Cabernet open. We are having boeuf bourguignon at eight thirty."

We had a glass of wine in hand, and she continued, "Mike said he had an assistant, who mostly did secretarial work for him. But he had envisioned a role which would require someone who could help him put his deals together. We would keep his current assistant, but she would become my assistant."

"He is bringing you into his company right at the top?"

"Yes!"

"Betty, that is amazing. This is just what we were hoping for."

Dinner was great that night. Dessert was better. It was served in bed and served in three separate courses. We awoke with a new attitude and celebrated a little more. Who could blame newlyweds for being a little late?

Life was great. Betty was soon making more than I was. I thought we could bank all her money, but she was spending a lot on new clothes - to fit her new station in life. None-the-less, we'd have a significant down-payment, maybe as high as 40 or 50%, in two years. Our dreams were coming true.

Betty told me Mike could go a little overboard in his relationship with her. She also told me not to worry, I was her guy. I had full faith in her and I watched what money and power can do. Her appearance changed: hair, makeup, clothing, shoes, and accessories. My wife is a natural beauty and now she is as glamourous as any woman, anywhere. She loved it and seemed to stay grounded.

As time passed, we could see our way to a family, but it was complicated. We wanted our children to have more than we had. It was logical to wait another few months, then a little more. Occasionally I asked about Mike and got a hearty laugh. "No, he seems to have stopped. I guess some people can take no, for an answer."

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Our time together suffered a little, but we were so excited when we were together, we didn't really notice. One day we were both due home early. I saw a brand-new Lexus in her parking place. I walked in and asked, "Whose car?"

I'd never seen that look on her face, "It's mine, Dan. Sit down. I need to talk to you."

"What is it?"

"Dan, I'm confused. I don't know another way to explain it. Mike has started after me, again. Now, he says he is in love with me. He can provide for our children better."

I decided I did need to sit. I almost fell into my chair. "Your talking to me tells me you love him, too."

"Dan, he got me an apartment and a car. He says I am confused, and I need time to find myself. I came home thinking he was right, but I can't leave."

An apartment? A car? Find herself? I can't breathe. My vision is narrowing. Who is this woman? This morning we burned up the sheets, we could not get enough of one another. Well, I couldn't get enough of her.

She was saying good-bye.

The bitch. "So go find yourself. I wish you well." I said it calmly. It was important to me to appear calm. She had gone from the pretty girl next door to a glamour queen. Her contribution to our finances now exceeded mine. When I talked about kids, she was aware of so much more they needed - and apparently how to get it.

My calm demeanor put her off. Put her off! Pardon the fuck out of me. "Aren't you going to fight for me?" She said in a small, waif-like voice.

"I already did. I won, too. We took vows to be partners 'til death us do part. Or, in your case, until you got a better deal." I was damned if I was going to show her any emotion. Fuck her. I spent every minute of my life chasing her and she trades me in for a Lexus and a place to park it. I was sad, crushed, totally dispirited for just an instant, then it all left - and I was mad. Stark raving, completely wacko, off-the-rails mad. I had been concerned, for a moment. I'd not let her see me pitiful, crying, or anything like that - but, crazed seemed fair enough.

I practically screamed. "Great! You got a better deal, what do I care. Get the fuck out."

I got up and was walking out of the room. She was saying, "That is cold..." I was out of earshot and missed the rest. I went into our bedroom, there were suitcases on the bed.

I went back, she was still sitting, now crying. "Now that I'm home, I can't leave," I shouted, in my best impersonation of her. "So, what is that shit on the bed?" Get your shit off my bed. Text me when you're out, I'll come back then." I walked to the door, left the apartment, and as far as I was concerned her life.

I am a smart guy. I am loyal to a fault. I am also one gullible fool. I watched it all happen and smiled 'til she got the suitcases out. Well, no more.

I got in my car and drove about a quarter mile, to a strip mall, pulled into their parking lot, shut my engine off. I was beside myself. I tried to get a hold of myself. I discovered there was no emotion in me other than anger and I was so mad it was coming out in tears. I was trembling. I was hyperventilating.

My phone pinged. Maybe she was out. I read the text. "Dan, we can't end like this, please come and talk to me."

I thought for a minute, no reason to talk that I could come up with, "Get the fuck out." was my reply. Some situations call for thoughtfulness, eloquence. This wasn't one of those. My phone pinged, again.

I looked it was several paragraphs of something. See, anger has gotten the best of me. I need to provide some context, "No interest in reading your shit. Get the fuck out." Much better. I could see she was typing something.

I sat, getting madder. "I deleted your texts, did not read, will not read. Get the fuck out."

I am rarely angry. It never helps to lose control of oneself. But now I could not help that I was furious. I started to tear up again and decided I had to do something, right now. Fuck it! And fuck her! I used my phone to find Anne Walters and called her.

She was most gracious. We met just thirty minutes later.

The time with her was bizarre. She gave me the distinct impression she was on my side and wanting to help. But nothing added up. She was going to divorce; I was in a different situation. How was it different? With dinner she bought a $900 bottle of wine. I told her she'd not turn my head with money. She said women were different - like that was supposed to help! She thought there was no real harm done, because according to Mike, the serial fucking homewrecker, he was not fucking my wife. She even tricked him into talking (unbeknownst to him) to me on the speaker phone.

That conversation is the one that did me in. They were two emotionless (and too emotionless) people discussing what to do about the pretty poodle one had acquired, since their building didn't allow pets. I screamed at him. I was now angrier than when I left Betty. He, and she for that matter, remained aloof. I got out of there before my rage put me in prison for life.

Betty never mentioned these people are perverts. Maybe the plan was Mike and Betty would Skype us during meals. They'd fuck and we'd drink Lafayette Fairchild, or whatever that swill was (I paused for half-a-beat. The wine was unbelievable, made every other wine I'd ever drunk taste like vinegar. But their price is too high.)

I was confused. She knows her husband is unfaithful, from time to time and that is just okee dokee, as long as it goes undiscovered. She believes bullshit isn't bullshit if you can't see it - but what about the stench?

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Have you ever been betrayed? I saw a science fiction movie once where people were replaced by exact duplicates, which came from some seed pods. While they knew everything the person they replaced knew, they were not friend or family - they were a deadly enemy. Was I suddenly in such a movie?

I decided to go home and get some things. Betty had not called, I presumed she was there, and I would work around her. My phone rang. It was Dad's ringtone (Sixteen Tons, Dad had been a coal miner), I wonder what he wants? I took the call, through my car's speakers. "Hi, Dad, what's up?"

His tone was adversarial, "What do you mean, what's up? You are leaving your wife. That's what's up."

"Who told you? No never mind that." I paused, took a quick breath, and continued, "Dad, I got home early. Betty told me she was leaving me, to go live in an apartment her lover got for her. She was leaving in the car he bought for her. I wasn't our undoing." I started in a matter-of-fact way but by the last sentence was showing my anger.

"Son, you have it wrong..."

"Dad, pardon my interruption, but I was there, and you weren't."

"Daniel," (he never called me Daniel), she didn't leave. She got suitcases out but didn't pack them (she did, too). She faced a crisis but loves you and passed the test."

I paused to think. She would not have called Dad. She called her dad, and he called my dad. Dad would have been a skeptic. "Let me ask you this, when her dad called you, and you were running him through the ringer, how did he convince you?"

"She's scared. She knows she got herself in a mess and is not sure she can get out of it. The only way she figures she can save your marriage is total honesty. I guess this guy she works for is something else. He'd been coming on to her and she just laughed him off - but he was getting to her."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"I asked that. I guess more than any other question, that answer convinced me. She was convinced she didn't tell you because she loved the job, and he was having no effect - she feared you'd make her quit."

"I'd make her quit? I'll need to ask her what power I hold of which I am unaware."

"Daniel, she told her dad that the guy has been trying to seduce her and getting nowhere. Today, he professed to love her. Then, before she could make an argument, he gave her a car and offered her an apartment, telling her to just go to the apartment and see what your freedom leads you to do. No one does that. It threw her."

"So, I was right."

"No, she could not go through with it."

"Dad, I appreciate your concern, I really do. But this is all wrong and I won't stand for it. She has been carrying on, physically, or not, with this guy for months, he gives her a car and a place to live - and she says, so far, it's just been harmless. I call bullshit."

"Son, all I can tell you is you are good together. You have a great future. She made a mistake, it was almost a catastrophic mistake, but she stopped. She loves you. There is no doubt."

"Well, no doubt in your mind. Thanks." We talked about my next visit home and parted with affection. I value his opinion. It's just this time he is wrong.

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I walked in our apartment. Betty came flying toward me. I held up my hand. "I was hoping you'd be gone. Since you are not, I'll just grab a couple of things."

"You can't mean it!"

"I do mean it. You can't say you are confused and moving out and not expect consequences."

"Mike called me. He said he has just been trying to get me in bed. The car and apartment were his last shot."

"I guess what you are telling me, you would only have an emotional affair, while married. Now, you are free to fuck him at will."

"You know I hate that language. You are being so mean. I've done nothing, yet. I admitted I was confused, but I chose you."

"Betty, you had an affair and were ready to leave me. You're having some second thoughts. I appreciate it. But if you had loved me, you'd not have had the affair."

I packed a couple of things and said goodbye. She was crying and did not reply.

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I was in unchartered waters. My wife, her family, my family, and if they are to be given any credibility, Mike and Anne Walters all are telling me I am over-reacting. OVER FUCKING REACTING - ME?