Swingin' on a Star

"I don't know," I said. "I think it's Ted's fault. He always gives anything I want. He's always telling me how pretty I am and how special I am. I guess I started to take him for granted. I started to believe that I deserved anything that I saw. So when I saw Mickey standing there with that foot-long sausage, that was as fat as a fire hose, I just went crazy."

"How the hell could you get something like that inside of you?" she asked. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Well yeah, but it's kind of like running a marathon. Once it's over you're sore and beaten up, but you feel like you've done something special. Like you've done something that most people could never do," I said.

"So are your orgasms any stronger than the ones you get from Ted?" she asked.

I just looked at her stupidly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. "I just asked you an honest question."

"Uhm ... Except for the first time, and I really think that was just because of the excitement of getting that big motherfucker inside of me ... I uhm ... Well ...uhm ...He doesn't really," I was stuttering stupidly as I tried to find a way to tell her.

She suddenly erupted in laughter. "You gave up Prince Charming ... You gave up the man you've been in love with for all of these years for a fat guy, who can't make you cum!"

I ran back into the room I'd been sleeping in and started crying all over again.

Several hours later, Carol knocked on my door and came into the room. I had fallen asleep while crying my heart out.

"Hey, Charlie Brown, someone's here to see you," she said. "I think it's one of those stupid bimbos from your job. She's carrying a briefcase and trying to look business like. However, from the way she's cracking her gum, you can tell this bitch is straight from a trailer park."

I got up and went into the living room. Alan, my sister Carol's boyfriend, was standing in the kitchen staring at whoever was in the living room with undisguised lust all over his face.

When I stepped into the living room, all the hairs on my neck stood up. I didn't recognize the woman at all. Carol was wrong about almost everything. First the woman who sat there teetering on the edge of Carol's couch as if she was afraid that sitting all the way back would give her cooties, wasn't one of the women I worked with.

Her shoes probably cost more than all of the furniture in Carol's house combined. The briefcase by her feet was the same case that my company's big boss carried. And this woman was too beautiful even to know the location of any trailer park on the planet.

She was clearly all about the business, as she stood up and grabbed her case as soon as she saw me. "Elaine Rosevelt," she asked, looking at me up and down.

"That's me," I said.

"You've been served," she said, handing me a stack of papers and heading for the door.

"Wait a minute, Blondie," I said angrily. "I'm not accepting these."

She turned back to me and cracked her gum several times in rapid-fire succession. "Look Granny," she said. Even as she said it, her stance widened, her knees bent a tiny bit and she tilted that beautiful head a notch.

If we were out on the street, I'd have thought that a change in demeanor like that meant that she was getting ready to try to kick my ass. Her formerly professional and clipped speech pattern also changed.

"That isn't how this works," she continued. The professional, fake warmth in her tone and delivery was gone. This woman was as cold as ice, and her speech patterns showed it. Each word came out of her mouth as if it had been chopped from a block of ice. I swear that I saw that cloud of frozen water vapor you get when you talk on really cold days coming from her mouth with each syllable. But that couldn't have happened because we were inside of a warm building.

"The way this usually works is that you did something STUPID to someone. They in turn decided to take legal action against you. I was then hired to deliver those documents that inform you of that pending legal action. It's my JOB. I don't usually take sides. And I don't usually CARE. I just serve the papers and walk the f ... walk away. Once the papers are in your hands, they're yours. I can't take them back. That's like trying to force the toothpaste; you could probably use some by the way, back into the tube. Are we CLEAR?"

I just nodded with tears forming in the corners of my eyes. She pivoted on one heel and marched towards the door as if we had never spoken.

I looked at the heading on the sheaf of papers and knew what they were. Carol was wrong. Ted, as usual had been telling me the truth. He really was trying to divorce me. Carol and Alan were staring at me from the kitchen.

"That was one tough little bitch," gushed Alan. "And she was hot too."

"You should have beaten her ass," said Carol. "We had your back."

"Sheeyiiittt! YOU did," said Alan. "That bitch probably knows Karate. Did you see the way she pushed her shoulders back? Her tits came forward, and all of that blond hair flared out. That was fucking Karate. And did you see those shoes she had on. Those tan alligator pumps with the brass toe pieces and brass spike heels? Those are Karate shoes. Those are the shoes that they wear when they're really going to kick your ass. I can just see the two of you; each one of you would have one of those shoes forced halfway up your asshole ... oh hell no! Not me."

"So what would you have done, Alan?" I asked.

"It's not my problem," he said. "It's not my fight. I'd have recorded the whole thing on video and then got the door for her when she was ready to go."

"Hey, that would have been good. We could have used the video against her in court, right?" I asked.

"Hell no," he spat. "I'd use the video to show my friends some first class ass kicking."

"So you're afraid of some gum chewing little blond twitch," asked Carol angrily.

"Nope," cracked Alan defensively. "I just respect her skills. If I had to take her out, I could do it."

Carol looked at him suspiciously. "How would you do it?" she asked.

"With a baseball bat ... while she was asleep," he mused. "Or better still, with a high powered rifle from three blocks away, you know like American Sniper ... Peeyow!" He pretended to line up an imaginary rifle and made shooting sounds.

Carol just looked at him and shook her head.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked.

"Well, I did things your way," I said. "I gave him some time and some space, and it didn't work. So fuck this. I'm gonna fight it. I'm gonna get my own lawyer and get my husband back. Whether he wants it or not. He stood up in front of our family and friends and vowed to love me forever."

"Didn't you take those same vows and break them?" she asked.

"Shut up Carol ... you're not helping," I said. I went back into my room and this time I wasn't crying. I got on my phone and started looking for a lawyer. It was as if a switch had been flipped in my mind. The one thing powering my every thought was getting my husband back.

The lawyer I hired was a realist. She looked over our assets and spoke to me at length. After perusing everything I put in front of her, she looked up at me and spoke.

"Are you sure you can pay me?" she asked.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"You and your husband together, don't have shit," she spat. "You two are roughly thirty, and you haven't saved a God damned dime. You don't even own your home. You're leasing a condo. That means you have zero equity in it. You two have close to five grand in the bank. Your husband has a great job; yours is so-so. You both have unlimited potential but nothing concrete." She took off her glasses and put them down on the table.

"Look, Honey, this is going to sound rough, but the best thing for you to do is cut your losses. You love the guy. I can see that. But let's face it; you cheated on him. It's up to him, whether or not he takes you back. There is no way you can force him to stay married to you. His offer is a very fair one. You both keep your cars, which since he paid for yours is generous. You both keep your pensions, which since his is worth more kind of sucks for you. But since you're the cheater, and you're both so young any judge will probably go for. He's willing to walk away and give you the condo, which doesn't mean shit since you won't be able to afford it for very long on your own. Honey, no judge is going to give you any more than this," she said.

"You're each going to walk away with about twenty-five hundred bucks and the whole world in front of you. I won't even charge you for the consultation ... since you probably need every dollar you can get. Just walk away, cry him out of your system, and try again. Just don't cheat on the next one."

"But isn't there anything I can do?" I asked. "Can't I force him into counseling or something?"

She put her glasses on and shook her head. "All of that costs money," she said. It'll cost you four hundred dollars to retain me just long enough to file the paperwork to petition the court for counseling. The counseling alone will run you three hundred a session. Seven sessions and you're broke. You'll be homeless and living paycheck to paycheck. Let the guy go. Or better still, save yourself some cash, you need it. Just go and talk to the guy. The worst thing he can do is say that he doesn't want to talk. In that case, you back off and keep trying every so often until he agrees. Then you put in your pitch and take your chances. This way you have just as big a chance at success, and it doesn't cost you shit."

I left her office more pissed off than I'd been when I walked in. But I decided to take her advice. And I decided to do it then.

I drove back to the condo. I was a bit nervous about seeing Ted. As I pulled in front of the house, I noticed that Ted's Jeep wasn't in the driveway. During the winter months, Ted drove a nearly twenty-year-old Jeep to protect his Mustang from the harsh Michigan winters.

That meant that Ted hadn't gotten back to the condo yet. I parked on the street to avoid blocking him out of the driveway. The last thing I wanted to do was to get him even more pissed off at me.

The house felt weird. It was cold. Ted was probably making the place more to his liking. I was always cold, so I kept the temperature very high in the winter. Ted liked it much colder than I could ever stand. I laughed when I thought about the way we compromised to solve our problem.

I cranked up the temperature until I was comfortable and Ted put up with it. In exchange for his discomfort, I walked around the house in only panties and a T-shirt. I also bent over and stretched a lot. We were both happy with the arrangement.

We shared so many good memories in this place. I knew every crack in the paint and how they happened. Despite the temperature, the ghost of all of those happy times was still there. I had to find a way to make sure they continued. I turned as I heard the sound of the door behind me opening. But when the door opened fully I was disappointed.

It wasn't my husband; it was the troll.

"Hey, Elaine," he said.

"Hi," I said as icily as I could. Then I realized that I needed to grow up and act like an adult. What happened between us wasn't Mickey's fault alone. I bore equal responsibility for our actions and the changes in our lives that resulted from them.

Mickey looked different. I knew that I did too. I looked older and less happy. The glow that Ted always claimed I had was gone. Sadness does that to you. But Mickey's face was different from mine. He just looked beaten or lifeless. He looked as if the weight of life had just worn him down and removed the spark from his soul.

"The pink stickers are things that Ted thinks are yours. The blue ones are things that he thinks are his. It gets more complicated after that. The ones with white stickers are all community property. If it has a blue sticker beside the white one, it's something he wants. There's an itemized list of everything in the place on the table over there. If you don't mind Ted having one of the white stickered items, just pull the white sticker off and leave the blue one. If you want something put a pink sticker on it. There's a pad of stickers on the table next to the list," he said.

"Ted took the bedroom set from the spare bedroom. He said it was his before you guys moved in together. He hasn't taken anything else except for his clothes and personal things."

"I ... I don't understand any of this," I managed to utter.

"I'm so sorry, Elaine," he said. "This is entirely my fault. I should never have included you. My best friend's fucking wife, what was I thinking? I was so full of myself. I didn't think that anyone would get caught. I never did with any of the others. I had to tell them myself, so I could shove it in their faces. Who's the joke now?"

He sat his large body down on my sofa. I felt sorry for him. As bad as it seemed for me, it was weighing on him a lot more heavily.

As he continued to talk, I wasn't even sure he was still talking to me.

"I was always the fuckin' joke ... Always the fat ass. Even now that I'm a grown-ass man. They still pick on me. Everything I try to do is always so God Damned funny. I still remember the prom. I thought it would change everything once they saw Sam. All of those fuckin' jokes about me dating my hand could stop. They couldn't joke about Sam. Do you know what they asked me? Is she your sister or your cousin? She was way too pretty for me. They couldn't joke about Sam. So I was still the joke."

He started laughing then, and I was tempted to leave and come back after Ted got home.

"Sam is the best thing in my life. I can't lose her. Ted is my best friend. He's the only one that ever treats me like a person. Why the hell did I ever even look at you? I got too big for my own fuckin' britches. I was a God. Mickey wasn't a joke anymore. You should have seen the look on their faces when they found out their stupid whore wives went crazy over my junk. I took them all down, one after another. Ted never once hurt me. He was my only real God Damned friend. However, you were just so God Damned pretty. It was only going to be once. But you looked so good with my sperm splashed all over your face. And the sounds you made ... Oh God you were so tight ..."

"Mickey," I said loudly. He turned as if he was surprised that I was still there.

The look in his eyes was pure agony. He looked as if he was being tormented by the devil himself on the lowest level of hell. Whatever he was going through, the jolly, fat, and happy Mickey I knew was no more. In his place sat this pathetic shell of a man.

"What time does Ted usually get home lately," I asked.

"Ted is already at home," he said. "He moved out a few days ago. I told you he left this stuff here for you guys to divide. He's buying a lot of new furniture. He just took the bedroom set because they needed ..." He started sobbing then.

"Mickey where is Samantha?" I asked sharply. I figured that maybe Samantha could give me more information than he could. I felt as if I was torturing him even further.

He turned and looked at me, and tears ran down his cheeks. He was trying so hard not to cry that his entire body was trembling.

"Samantha is with HIM, you stupid bitch," he said. "Aren't you listening? She goes over to his new place all the time."

"Mickey, don't get upset," I said, trying to calm him down. "She's just being a friend. She's just helping him to settle into his new apartment."

"He bought a house," he whined. "I can't lose her. She really wants a house."

It was so pathetic that I almost laughed at him, but I held it in.

"Mickey, Samantha loves you. You know that. And she and Ted aren't like us. They're strong enough to resist doing anything bad. She's just helping Ted get his life on track."

"I can't believe I had sex with you," he blurted out. "You're too stupid to breathe.

"Mickey ... What?" I didn't understand him at all. I was too shocked at finding out that my husband had done what I most wanted him too. He knew how badly I wanted to move out of the condo and into a house of our own. Then we could start having kids and truly be a family.

"They're already fucking," he spat. "He's fucking the shit out of her. And she loves it. She goes over there every God damned day ... Some times more than once. And sometimes she spends the night with him. She makes it a point to sit in front of me with her legs spread and his cum leaking out of her. I've known that woman for nine years ... We've been married for eight years. She let HIM fuck her ass. Not me ... HIM."

"Mickey ... Why is she ...? Why are you letting her ...?" I began angrily.

"I can't fucking believe they let you walk around by yourself," he said exasperatedly. "You are honestly the stupidest person I know. When they handed out brains, you must have gone back for a second helping of pretty and missed all of the smarts. Let me explain this to you in really simple terms. I'll talk really slow too ..." He said loudly.

"Mickey, I'm not deaf," I said. "You don't have to yell."

"Do you remember the night about a week or so ago that we all got together to talk. Samantha arranged it all. She had been talking to all of us during the whole time. However, that night we got together to discuss it all and see where we stood. She talked about our different relationships, remember ... And how many of them might be salvageable. It turned out that out of seven combinations, one has blossomed. One more is surviving. Two others are on life support and probably won't make it."

"So the strong one is Ted and Sam, right?" I asked.

He nodded his head. "My marriage is the one that is surviving," he said. "I'm going to do ... To endure whatever I have to do to keep her."

"But you said she's cheating ... They're cheating on us now?" I asked. I started smiling. If Ted and Samantha were having sex, that would make us all even. I didn't like the idea. Samantha, even as big as she was, is simply too pretty to let loose on my husband. However, I could live with it.

"Okay," she said shaking his head. "I'll talk even slower."

"Huh?" I said.

"I saw you smiling, you dumb bitch!" he said. "You don't get it. They aren't cheating. Ted has filed for a divorce. I know you're having trouble believing it, probably because you've always been pretty enough that you invariably got your way, so again, I'm going to talk slowly. Ted does not want you back. You broke his heart, and he is DONE WITH YOU. Therefore, he is not cheating on you, get it?" I nodded and closed my lips firmly. I wasn't giving up on my marriage that easily, but I didn't say anything.

"Sam isn't cheating on me either," he said. "Remember she told us all that she and I were staying together? She said that she forgave me, but I was going to be punished, remember? This is my punishment. I have to live with knowing that she is going out and fucking Ted whenever she wants to."

I looked at him in horror. Even as I thought about it, my shock grew. What Mickey and I had done had been bad. We had both betrayed the people we were sworn to love. But it had only hurt them once they found out about it. Neither of their lives had been affected by what we'd done until it was out in the open at which time it had ceased. Perhaps it was worse for Ted because he had seen us, but what Mickey was enduring strained his psyche.

Without trying, images of Samantha with those huge boobs of hers flopping and those big legs splayed akimbo, moaning while my husband thrust himself into her flashed across my mind, and I was instantly angry. 'I should kill that bitch,' I thought.

But I had no right to.

"How long are they going to ...?" I asked.