The Cake is Stale Now

Two weeks after No Cake.

https://www.literotica.com/s/no-cake

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Margie Wolcroft sat in the bed, feeling numb. Not numb, because she was hooked up to an IV, which in turn had a feed for a medication that helped her control pain, but emotionally numb.

She'd never thought she'd feel this way about anyone. It wasn't any single, simple emotion, it was a swirl of things. Sometimes pity was dominant, then regret, then anger, relief, confusion... as she thought different things, she felt differently. But today, to do what she'd just done, she had to be numb.

She held blame, but she had meant well. Emotionally, she felt guilty for the whole thing, and she struggled with that. She'd kept a disastrous secret, but the events that had started all of this... that was someone and something hadn't done, but she was deeply ashamed of now.

"I'll have these filed within the next couple of days," said the nice young lawyer as she placed the manilla envelope of papers Margie had just signed into her briefcase. The notary had already left. "But at this point, your will is done."

Margie nodded to the nice blond woman. The idea of a woman lawyer was still a little novel to her, even after having watched LA Law religiously, later Boston Legal, and she was tickled by it. More so that the woman did such work for people in hospitals. Maybe Bill Shakespeare was wrong?

"Thank you," Margie said. "I appreciate the guidance. I didn't know how to explain things."

"That's all right, ma'am," she answered, smiling as she stood and adjusted her clothes. "Legalese gets everyone. It's part of why I had to go to school."

"Bless you." Margie confirmed.

"Call me if you need something," the lawyer said, putting a little waggle on Margie's foot through the blanket. "I hope this gave you some peace of mind?"

Margie just gave a grimace.

"I'll check on you in a couple of weeks, okay?" the lawyer asked.

"Thank you." Margie said, nodding. "Let the nurse know when you are coming by, I'll try and not be doped up. I hate how my mind works on this stuff..." Margie gestured toward the number of tubes and lines leading to her body.

"I will. You have a good day!" With that, the lawyer left, on her way to see another patient in the long-term ward.

Margie watched the woman head through the door, and sighed. The pain was coming back, the low constant ache and weakness flowing up her. She'd had her pain medication cut a bit, so she could talk to the lawyer as clear-headed as she could hope to be.

She reached over and pushed a button on the side of the bed.

"Yes, can I help you?" came the tinny voice over the bed intercom.

"Yeah, I need to get into my chair. I need some sunshine."

"We'll get someone there as soon as we can," said the voice, followed by the sound of disconnection.

Margie really wanted a cigarette.

++++++

Margie had gone through two cigarettes after she had assured the nice, but bored, orderly she would be okay. She wasn't feeble yet, and her pain was okay. He'd wandered off, probably to play with his phone in private, or get something to eat, she thought.

She was halfway through the pack her friend Cynthia had smuggled in for her. She wasn't going to get any more from Cyn, she'd made that clear. It was funny, she'd wanted a cigarette since her husband had made her quit in 1993, but she'd held off of starting again even after he'd died five years ago.

Once you have stage three stomach cancer and rounding the corner for stage four, you really don't care about how bad things can be for your lungs.

Occasionally, if she knew the right orderly was on duty, she'd arrange to sit outside where the wind would sweep away the smoke of evidence, and enjoy a nail. The orderly knew, but as long as he didn't see it, "no harm, no foul." Margie didn't expect him to have a job here for long, but until then, if she wanted a cigarette she was going to have one.

For the past half hour, Margie sat and thought. What she wanted to do was a waste of time, she knew, but she felt a need to... strike back? She didn't know how to explain it. Give voice to her pain, maybe? But over the last twenty minutes, she'd decided to make a phone call, and damn the charging bulls.

Her hand reached for her purse, and she saw that the tremor was back in her hands. She narrowed her eyes in determination. Into her oversize canvas purse she went, where she kept everything she felt she'd need for a short stroll. After rummaging past the towel, the compact umbrella, two tiny change purses, dog collar, paperback novels, and bag of hard sugar-free candy, she found her phone on the bottom, of course.

A moment of fumbling, as she watched her finger waver in the air over her phone, she found the right entry, and hit the call button. As she listened to it ring, she screwed down her courage, and wished she dared a third cigarette.

"Hello?" came the voice from the other end, the voice of her only daughter.

"Hello Mary." Margie answered in turn, restraining herself from launching into the planned tirade.

"Mom! Hi!" Mary said, without much joy in her voice. In fact, Margie thought she sounded a little... wet? "How are you doing today?"

"Oh, I have my good times, and my bad ones." Margie replied. "I had some things to do, and I wanted to talk to you, since you won't visit or call me."

"Mom, I'm sorry," Mary pleaded, guilt evident. "It's just, my life is such a mess right now."

"I have no doubt." Margie said after a pause. She had more than a clue what was happening, thanks to Kimmy and Junior.

"I'll try and get there soon, okay?" Mary supplied. "I need to talk to you anyway..."

"I bet you do." Margie said. "I bet you do."

There was silence from Mary's end.

"I have some things to ask you first Mary, and then I need to tell you some things." Margie said, forging ahead. "Can you be patient with your mother?" It wasn't really a question.

"Yes..." was the reply from her daughter.

"Why?" Margie asked. Her tone wasn't one of questioning, she simply wanted to hear the rationale again. Every time she did, it made her angry, but she wanted it. Again. One last time. She needed the anger to get her through this.

"Why what?" deflected Mary.

"Don't." Margie softly said, summoning some of the strength her anger gave her. "Don't play that game with me. Not me. Don't you dare."

"...okay." Mary sighed, resigned to dealing with her mothers anger again. She would have to weather this, she needed help from Margie, very soon.

"I was tired, I guess," Mary started. "The kids were... too much. Kimmy was almost a teen, and she had so much attitude. She questioned everything, and gave me shit constantly. Little Mary was a ball of energy, and I was tired of constantly cleaning up after her... Michael wasn't around as much as I needed, and when he was, he constantly had a drink in his hand..."

Margie kept the phone against her ear, paying attention.

"I didn't mean to start it. I really didn't." Mary explained. "It was the only break I had. Twice a week, I'd go out for groceries, and I'd do a little window shopping. It was nice to be out of the apartment, and not to be a mom for a few hours."

"I remember," Margie supplied.

"I met Kurt at the deli I would visit on my way to the store." Mary explained, again. She felt she was always explaining this to her mother. "He thought I worked there, and tried to give me his order as I passed by." Margie could hear the smile in Mary's voice at the memory.

"He was different from Mike." Mary went on. "Kurt was so positive, and his personality... he always made people gravitate toward him, he was so likeable."

Margie noted the "was."

"He was some assistant to a vice-president in Q-Mec, he traveled and talked to people all over the Middle East." Mary said. "He was so different from Mike... Mike was just a truck driver, y'know?"

Here comes the comparison, Margie noted.

"Mike was gone, fourteen hours a day, slept for six, and when he was there and awake, there was always a beer in his hand. He paid attention to the girls, and he helped Kimmy with her homework, which I was never good at..."

Margie recalled how Mary got through school solidly in the middle.

"... but he never had time for me." Mary lamented. "I was so sick of that life."

Margie heard Mary sigh.

"I was going to get back to work," Mary said. "Junior was going to be in school for longer hours, and I wanted out of the house. Anything. It was too much time being in that tiny box, with screaming kids, and their music, and the attitude from Kimmy, and..."

Margie tuned this part out. She knew it.

"... but Kurt... Kurt was different. Bright. Happy." Mary ended with. "He made ~me~ happy. I really needed to be happy."

"But you didn't tell him." Margie accused, evenly, stating a fact she knew.

"No." Mary said, her voice low. "I let Kurt think I was a out-of-work waitress. He never saw my ring... the first time, I had on my mittens. After that... I took the ring off."

Margie's eyes narrowed at this.

"I didn't mean to sleep with him." Mary stated. "He was just so... nice! He never pushed me, he never told me I had to do this or that, I never had to pick up the kids, I never had to take the kids somewhere, I never had to pick up after... anyway... Kurt was different. Something I needed."

Margie listened.

"Kurt waited for me, at that deli, once I told him when I'd be there. He waited for me. Here he was, this important man, who had money, and could pick anyone... and he was waiting for me!" Mary explained. "If I said I would be at the Deli on Thursday around two, he would be there! If I'd said I'd be there at three a.m. on Sunday, he would have been there for me! For me! I know it!"

"That kind of attention, it gets to you." Mary said, calming down, "I needed that attention. Not as "Mommy," not as "Mary, wife of truck-driver Mike," not as the woman picking up her kid from school... just me... Mary."

Mary paused, Margie thought she was composing herself.

"The first time we had sex, Kurt just... made an offer. "Do you want to take dessert back to my place?" Mary said, somehow sounding both regretful and bubbly at once. Margie didn't understand how Mary did that. "From there, things just... progressed."

Margie knew how these things went. Her husband had been charming also. Well, at least her definition of charming. Mary's "charming" seemed a bit different.

"And Kurt still didn't know you were married?" Margie asked, a tremble of anger in her voice.

"...no." Mary confessed. "I told you, Kurt never knew I was married. I used my Wolcroft name..."

Margie had known that, and it still made her angry every time she thought of it. It was deception, pure and simple to her. Mary had been ashamed, so she'd hidden what she was. Margie never understood how she could be ashamed of being a mother, and married to a man who was trying as hard as he did.

"... how often did you sleep with Kurt?" Margie asked.

"After that first time?" Mary asked. Margie just stayed quiet, waiting for the answer which soon came. "It was maybe two weeks after that first time before I slept with him again. We'd both really wanted to. I... kind of... played hard-to-get... I was feeling guilty..."

Not guilty enough, thought Margie.

"... it was two weeks." Mary sighed. "Then we waited another week after that second time."

Margie stayed quiet.

"Then, it was all the time." Mary went on. "We just... started meeting at his apartment."

"So you slipped out for a couple of hours, here and there, over a week's time?" Margie asked for confirmation.

"Pretty much." Mary always answered this question. "Often two times, sometimes three, sometimes none."

"Go on." Margie prompted.

"That's... pretty much it." Mary said.

"No, it's not." Margie said, trying not to let the snarl into her voice. She mostly succeeded. "What started the end?"

"... I missed my period." Mary hated confessing this part again. "It was five weeks, then six weeks. I was sometimes irregular, so..."

Margie waited.

"... but at seven weeks, I went and bought a pee test." Mary forged ahead. "It was positive. All the pee tests were positive." Mary had taken four of the tests, over a two-day span.

"I didn't know... whose it was." Mary confirmed. "Not knowing was... it made things at home... it was... I was scared. I didn't know what to do! It took me days to work up the courage to tell Mike I was pregnant again. I didn't tell him it may be Kurts..."

"...it sticks in my mind. That conversation." Margie could hear the sadness in Mary's voice now. "He was quiet, and I could see him thinking about the costs of having another child. He was working on how to make it work, and we were already in the red, from medical bills and keeping the kids moving forward... and all he said was "I love you, honey. We'll find a way. Do you think it's another girl or a boy?"

Margie could see that.

She could also see how hiding what may be another mans child from your husband wasn't for the faint of heart. Unfortunately, Mary could hide that from Mike.

"When did you decide to leave?" Margie asked.

"I still don't think I really decided... I just did it."

Margie waited again. Mary would say it.

"Kurt was leaving for the Middle East again." Mary spoke. "He'd told me it was coming, his six-month training period was ending, and his boss wanted him back on the job. Kurt speaks four languages, you know."

Margie didn't much care if he spoke Martian.

"Kurt suddenly asked me... "Do you want to go with me?" He was heading to Kuwait." Mary said. "My passport was okay, from when we'd gone to Canada that time. That was the first thought that went through my head after he asked... that I could go."

Margie was grinding her teeth. Not even a thought about the girls at home.

"I swear, I didn't think much past that." Mary said, guilt prominent in her voice. "I know how wrong that is. I knew how wrong it was later that day. I knew... I know..."

Yet you kept on, goin' on, thought Margie.

"I said yes." Mary had forced some strength back into her voice now. "I said yes, I got out of his bed, and told him I'd be back, and we could go."

"I know how wrong that sounds..." Mary confessed. "But I really wasn't thinking. The whole thing... it was what I wanted. I wanted to be away from my tiny boxed-in life, stuck in that apartment, doing the same frustrating things, over and over, with Mike just an occasional presence in the early morning and late at night... It was a way out."

Silence again, and Margie waited.

"...and I wouldn't have to explain about the baby in my womb." Mary said, a strange tone in her voice. "I thought I could somehow... get Kurt to go along with it. Make it his, if it wasn't. I thought then it might be. Mike and I... I was always so tired around Mike... we hadn't..."

Margie just kept herself quiet.

"...Anyway, I headed back to the apartment. Mikes apartment. I didn't know... it was... I kept trying to think of ways to make... to let Mike and the girls know... I kept walking, and I couldn't find a way to make it work... I hadn't left yet, and I felt so guilty..."

But not guilty enough to stop having an affair, Margie considered.

"... My feet took me back to the apartment. Once I was there, I just stopped." Mary said. This part was easier for her to relate. "I considered what to do for maybe two seconds once I got in the door and looked around that tiny place, and everything I'd struggled with on the way there crystalized for me."

"I didn't need anything. Kurt had said he'd buy what I need, he knew I was poor anyway, and didn't have much... I never let him know what I ~did~ have at ho... at Mikes apartment. Kurt thought I was this waitress, who was carefree and available... I never corrected him..."

"I didn't need anything from Mike's." Mary went on. "I didn't want anything in that moment, but to be free. Kimmy was at school, and Junior was with the neighbor... but if I was there long, the neighbor would come over, she always knew when we were home... so I wrote the note."

"I don't even remember what I wrote..." Mary stated.

"I know what you wrote." Margie said. "I've seen it."

There was silence over the phone again. Mary didn't know how to respond.

"You told Mike and the girls that you were leaving. That it was too much for you. That you were two months pregnant, and that was too much for you. You told them not to look for you." Margie informed her daughter.

"... yeah, that's right." Mary confirmed.

Margie went silent again. She knew Mary would pick the story up.

"...I grabbed my passport, I wrote the note, took off my ring... and I left." Mary continued. "I threw my phone down the sewer grate. It felt like I was freeing myself."

Margie was again, feeling a swirl of emotions. None of them positive. It helped her think she'd made the right decision, which she would soon tell her daughter.

"Then what?" asked Margie?

"I walked back to Kurts apartment, and said "Here I am!" with a big smile," she said. "We were both so happy. I was free, and with a man I was pretty certain I loved. It turned out, I did love him. Completely."

"Then the next day, we packed his stuff, which wasn't much. We did some shopping for me, drove to the airport, and got on his company jet. I met his boss, and he was nice. Then we left."

"What happened then?" Margie asked. She always asked. Mary never told.

"I don't want to talk about that, Mom." Mary said, a warning in her tone.

"I don't care." Margie said, matching her daughters' tone. "I want to know."

"We had the baby, okay?" Mary said, sounding angry. "Later, we got married. We were happy. Good enough?"

"No, it's not." Margie came back. "I want answers."

"Mom..." Mary sighed. "...maybe later, okay?"

There won't be a later. Probably, Margie thought.

"You owe me answers, Mary Margaret." Margie wasn't happy.

"I know, Mom." Mary confirmed. "I do... just... not now, okay?"

Margie grit her teeth. Then she remembered she had other questions.

"Tell me why you went to Kimmy's wedding."

"After you told me... I was stunned when you told me...All the things I imagined happening to my girls... I know I gave up something precious. Mom, believe me, I regretted it! That part, I regretted! Every day, and I had nobody to talk to about it! Those years, missing all the moments!" Mary was upset as she went on.

You gave them up, Margie thought. You don't get to wonder after that.

"But when you told me, everything came rushing at me..." Mary elaborated. "All that I missed, everything that had happened... I know I walked away... but I miss them, Mom. I miss my babies."

Margie was trembling harder now.

"I decided I had to go."

"How did you get in?" Margie asked.

"I used your name."

"... you what?"

"I beat Kurt, who had invited himself along, to the check-in while he was parking." Mary said, guilt in her voice. "I didn't have your invite, but I convinced the man at the podium I was you."

"Mary..." Margie growled, her tremor now reaching her head.

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry."

Margie was trying to get herself under control, emotionally and physically. If the orderly looked across the yard and saw her shaking like this...

"Why... why did you take Kurt?" Margie asked, tilting her phone so she wouldn't be breathing into it loudly. She was a firm believer in controlling herself around children... and she thought Mary was very, very childish.

"I didn't know Kurt was back, until the day before. I'd told him I was going to a friend's wedding while he was overseas, and he finished early. He wanted to come... because... he wanted to do something with me... Kurt was like that... he always wanted to be with me..." Mary said slowly.

Margie again noted the "was" and "wanted" past tense in how Mary talked.