The Fickle Finger of Fate

I now have a cushion strapped to my pretty derriere. It's so sore from the caning it got over That Damn Dog. One... I'll never buy a dog, and Two... I'll never forget that lesson...ever. That said, here is Chapter Two...of a Three part series. That's one more than one and one less than three, which btw will be the final chapter... Three that is, not this one...Ohhh hell, just don't use a cane anymore....Please.

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Lennard dropped his gaze to the little clear Perspex box sitting on his table with two wedding bands set in resin. "I understand your reluctance James. You love the woman and you don't want to judge her unfairly, but at its worst, it's called denial mate! Colour it anyway you want, it still looks the same. Okay I agree that I'm probably not the best person for you to be talking to on this subject, but you have to do something and pretty damn quickly, if it's not already too late. How about going for shock value?"

Continuation ...

And that's what I did! I dropped the folder on the table in front of Kelly. "Open the folder and read what's inside; when I get out of the shower we'll talk." See, I wear the pants in my family, always have and always will!

I never got to finish my shower. "What's this shit Jim?" Kelly's ear piercing shrill came through the glass partition.

"I said we'll talk it over when I'm finished washing."

"No Jim, you get your bloody arse out here right now and tell me what's got into you." She ranted.

Okay, so she tells me which ones! Ohhh don't give me that look! I doubt there's a husband out there that hasn't heard the old criticism, 'You're not wearing that are you?' You're an idiot if you think that's a question. It's not a question mate, it's a statement, which is, 'I'm in control here, and you better take notice!'

Now if you're an average logical but clueless male, the answer is staring her in the face, "I've got them on woman, what do you think?"

Bad move mate. You're not talking to another guy here and you're staring at a lonely night and another draw if you walk out that door with them on. Now I know I said that I learned not to throw the match early on in the marriage, but this one is an exception to that rule. I don't go for odds on, that's crazy. Bet big, minimal return, as I said, crazy. Ya got to go for the long odds, fifty cents down for fifty buckaroos plus your stake. The pants deal is shit and keeping the missus happy is paramount here.

I'll give you a hint, change the pants, and hope like hell she's in a loving mood later that night and you might just end up with a reverse draw. No guarantees though; it all hinges on why she confronted you about the pants in the first place, then it could quite conceivably be a two nil loss to you. But hey, you didn't lose much but a lousy pair of comfortable pants.

But that's not the reason why I sighed, and shut the water off.

What? Why did I capitulate then? Ohhh, my Uncle watches bloody Gridiron and he's tried to teach me some of the rules. Poor bugger him! According to my Uncle, what I just did was drop back, open the field and go for the long pass to the wide receiver. I think you gridiron fans would know what I'm on about here, the rest you; tuff titties! And I now realise why I get side tracked all the time; I'm trying to relate my thinking on life's mysteries and the married woman, so sit back, suck it up, and it might just help you draw the next match and maybe even win one or two. Now back to the confrontation.

I grabbed my towel off the hook. "You read the forms? It means just what it says at the top of page one. Prenuptial agreement! It's the one we signed before we got married, but I've just added a codicil." 'This is me dropping back'

"I damn well read it! We don't need a bloody codicil to an already stupid prenuptial!" She's angry again. "What we need is for you to get your head, out of your arse and apologise to me this minute!"

"Getting angry and swearing at me isn't going to help the situation Kelly. Go down stairs and open a bottle of wine and we'll sit down and talk this out like mature adults, so just give me a little peace and quiet to get dressed." I can be calm when needs be, on the outside, on the inside I wanted to kill something! 'My Quarterback is dancing on the spot, waiting nervously for the Wide Receiver to make ground.'

Kelly turned and stormed out of the bedroom. "Open your own god damn bottle of wine. I'm too angry to be talking to you now. I'm going out to cool down, so don't wait up." Okay, I got clobbered, and my throw ended up short.

I walked out and flopped down on my back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, much as my quarterback was doing right now. Get my own dinner; get my own wine? I don't even like fucking wine. I'm a beer man. I was trying to be nice, and where'd it get me? "How about, I get my own damn life instead?" I shouted down from the bedroom. Fuck, I hope she didn't hear that. 'My Wide Receiver missed the damn ball, game over and no nookie tonight. Damn, I hate Gridiron, give me Rugby League any day!'

Kelly came home around ten that night as far as I could tell. There was a clatter down stairs as though she was bouncing off everything she could find to fall into, before she slumped on the bed, not so much as removing a stitch clothing. There was no chat or goodnight kiss, not even a grunt and she stunk of rum. She just turned her back on me and went to sleep. well passed out more like it. She was comatose and never budged an inch all night. I know; I hardly slept a wink all night.

I was in the kitchen pouring my first cup of coffee feeling like death warmed up, before heading off to work, when Kelly staggered in. "Ohhh God, I'm dying!"

I almost chuckled; now thinking that 'tired' wasn't so bad this time in the morning. So this is what it looks like from the other side of a hangover. "Morning Kelly; you look like shit darlin, or something the cat dragged in; one of the two!" I knew she couldn't fight this morning, so I felt safe to add, "Can we talk about the agreement this afternoon or not?" I know it was a chicken shit move, but hey, like The Newcastle Song by Bob Hudson tells ya, "Don't you ever let a chance go by!" especially when they're handed to you on a plate like this.

It was obvious that Kelly had a thundering headache from too much drink the night before and only moaned, "I'm certainly not in any condition to be talking about it now." She said this into her folded arms on the table, her hair, normally brushed to a high sheen, this morning looked more like a rat's nest. Half of me felt sorry for her, the other half wanted to punched the air and scream yes!

Instead, I voiced my understanding and headed off to work, thinking that I was pleased the rolls weren't reversed. So far, everything had gone the way Lennard and I thought it might go. Lennard had said that Kelly would buck at first, but if she had nothing to hide and she truly loved me, then she would eventually come round and sign the change to the agreement.

I still felt bad about the it, but conceded that while love made for a cohesive marriage, it wasn't by any means an air tight seal, and other sinister forces could at times of weakness destroy the delicate fabric.

I know, I know, my cynicism is showing. But think about it; if she didn't sign, then it was more evidence that she has already been unfaithful and I wasn't in the slightest bit interested in stopping her affairs. I love Kelly dearly, but if that were the case, then I'd have to look at taking it to the next level and have her followed.

I had a sinking feeling as I drove home, knowing full well that I had the confrontation with my dear wife to contend with. I half expected to see a driveway full of cars and was mildly surprised that it wasn't a parking lot. As the garage door opened, I was even more surprised that Kelly's car was still inside.

Coming in from the garage, I spotted Kelly and surprise number three? Kelly wasn't next door, but in the lounge with two glasses of wine, and the agreement sitting on the coffee table. I took a deep breath and said to myself, "This is show time. Don't wimp out now. Ya backing a hundred to one long shot here baby."

Kelly had the good grace to wait until I got through putting my briefcase away and undoing my tie. "I thought we might need a little relaxer before we get into this." She pointed at the forms on the table.

"You're probably right sweetheart. Let me tell you from the start that I'm certainly not happy about having to do this, but I think once you hear my reasons you'll agree that it won't have a deleterious effect on our marriage."

Kelly sipped her wine and frowned. "I'm not so sure how you can say that, James. It smacks of distrust to say the least. Are you saying that you don't trust me anymore?"

I picked up my wine; I told you I hate wine, didn't I? But took a gulp anyway, and sat on the couch beside her. It did give me pause to think that maybe Kelly was capitulating, and the wine was her show of displeasure at losing this round. "No sweetheart, I'm not saying that at all." I knew in my heart that that was a half-truth. I did trust Kelly but I just wasn't sure how far I could trust her, and it angered me. I never thought that there would come a time that I would be having these thoughts.

"Yes I have concerns that things aren't right between us and I want to make it right. All this is a way for us to take any variable out of the equation."

I took Kelly's hand and held it. "I have an apology to make and I'd appreciate it if you'd hear me out before you try to interrupt." Kelly nodded her consent, but my sceptical side reared its ugly head. I just knew what she was thinking to herself, or was pretty sure I did at any rate. 'Apologies are the only thing I want to hear from you James!' it was written all over her face, but she was keeping it to herself.

I continued, "I think that all this has come about because I stupidly told you about my fantasy. I believe that has made you uneasy, and unsettled in our relationship. For that I am truly sorry and I ask you to forgive me."

I took another long sip of wine. God it tasted like cat's piss and my face must have showed my dislike, because Kelly had that smirkey look to her face. "I think that confession of a threesome made you think that you were in jeopardy of losing me, and that is so far from happening that it's ludicrous sweetheart, but I understand what you must have been thinking. If I went along and allowed you to do this for me, then that would make you a cuckquean!"

Kelly sat blankly staring at me for a minute, and then her face screwed up in confusion. "What's a cuckquean?"

I chuckled at her question. "A cuckquean my dear Kelly is the female version of a cuckold. A woman who lets her husband sleep with other women, while she sits back and watches or maybe joins in, whatever." I could see her start to object and I cut her off. "Before you say it, I am definitely not interested in an open marriage either!"

"I'm hoping this change to the prenuptial will allay your fears, and we can get back to a loving relationship. I miss your tender touch and smiling face, my love."

Okay, so I was laying it a little thick, and it sounded to me like I was, but I was just hoping that to her it sounded heartfelt, which it was. Don't can me over it. I was fighting for my marriage and future family; give me a break.

Kelly face dropped as though she had a moment of sadness. This probably wasn't exactly what she was hoping for I'm sure, but she managed to smile anyway. "You silly sausage, I was never worried about you leaving me sweetie. I just wanted you to experience your fantasy. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it before asking our friends if they would help me to bring it about. That was my mistake and I apologise as well."

My mood lightened and I smiled. "You have nothing to apologise for my dear, it was a nice thought and I appreciate you thinking of me, but as I said before, I could never go through with it for the reasons I stated earlier." OK, I was buttering her up, it was fairly certain I had won this round, so a draw was in the bag, and now I was looking to make it two nil with me winning for a change.

Kelly looked at the forms as though they were about to attack her. "Do you still want to initial this codicil?"

"You read it right? Does it look as though I want to send you to the poor house?"

Kelly chewed her bottom lip. "Well yes and no! I have to admit, it's harder on you than me. I may walk out of the marriage with nothing but the cloths on my back, but you are going to be paying me alimony for the following ten years. What on earth made you put that in?"

Funny, but that's the exact same question I put to Lennard, when we were drawing up this codicil. He said, "It'll smooth the way for her to accept the changes. Are your skirts clean?"

I nodded, "Fuck yeah!"

"Then you don't have a problem then do you?" I had the idea that "smoothing the way' was not what he meant, as I'm sure you'll agree.

"I'm the one who stupidly brought up the threesome crap, and that made it look like I'm the one dissatisfied with the marriage. I'm not, I love being married to you Kelly. I did it so you could see that I'm not trying to corner you into this change to our prenuptial. I'm not being factious or confrontational. I really do believe that we need this to get by this rough patch, and see that it can only reinforce our marriage." Ok, that was another half-truth but I didn't need to be totally brain dead.

Kelly crumbled to my great confusion. I told you about the wine, so this wasn't totally unexpected, but I had thought that she would have to put up more of an argument. Damn, another of life's little mysteries to add the vault in understanding the working of a female mind. "Ok James, if this is what you need to make things right again I'll go along with it, but let me say this! I don't need it and heaven forbid if it comes to a divorce with you as the instigator of its demise, then I'll be throwing this prenuptial into the rubbish bin. I really do think it's unsavoury to say the least."

I gave Kelly a sad but knowing smile. "It may not look it, but I do agree with you on that score." I continued before Kelly could mount another defence. "Life is full of necessary evils I'm afraid. Can you be at our attorney's office tomorrow at say eleven thirty so that he can witness and notarise the document?"

Kelly went into the kitchen to start dinner, while I made a covert inspection of the latest calls made from our home phone. As I had expected, the last four were to her friends, and she must have been either complaining or getting council. Either way, I had no illusions as to what Kelly would do if it came to me cheating in the marriage. While I loved my wife implicitly, I also knew what she was like with anyone who crossed her, and that prenuptial would most definitely be on the divorce table if it came to that.

We met five minutes before the half hour and Kelly gave one last salvo in the fight for supremacy. "I hope this won't take long James. I've got a lot of shopping to get in before the day is over." I hated this tug-of-war, this fight to see who was stronger. I always thought of Kelly as my equal in our marriage, and all this was leaving a sour taste in my mouth. I couldn't understand why she couldn't see that communication and compromise was the key to successful marriage, not this power struggle she seemed to be enjoying.

My eyebrow rose in query. "All this has got me depressed, and I need some retail therapy to help me get over it! I have a fifteen thousand dollar visa card, and I intend to use it to pay for that therapy, and may very well go close to maxing it out. So be ready when the bill comes in from the bank, and don't say I didn't warned you!" She finished with a cheeky, but defiant smile.

Okay, this one's a draw as well, an expensive draw, but draw none the less! I just knew I wasn't going to get out of this with a win, but fifteen grand seemed a little over the top. What is it about women and plastic? If it's not plastic fingernails, it's plastic surgery, then plastic tits, and it all gets wacked onto their plastic cards! I paled at what Kelly had said but nodded. "All for the good of our marriage my dear?" I sighed with little enthusiasm, with the old joke about wives, condoms, and wallets rattling around in my noggin.

Some months went by with me keeping a keen eye on Kelly and her association with what I had now redubbed the felonious four. I noted that while she never actually ended her fellowship with them, she certainly backed a long way off.

I even started to chill with conversing with them on a very loose basis, and I mean, very fucking loose, thinking we had finally got over this hump in our marriage. We saw them at parties, but they tended to keep to themselves, and though Kelly would occasionally go over, and chat, she was never out of my sight. Thing on the home front went from so -- so, to really quite good, if not terrific, with our love life improving dramatically. I'm winning here, big time, so why am I waiting for the other shoe to drop?

What are you looking at me like that for? I understand concept of supply and demand. Kelly could quite conceivably be ramping up the supply in order to corner the market. Yeah, the other shoe, she then cuts supply and the market crashes, namely me. I hate that concept. I hate being on my guard and I mostly hated that this was turning me into my father, the biggest cynic of all!

Lennard called me into his office another two months down the track. "Damn it Lennard! You want to lay off all that junk food. How in hell are we ever going to get that midget throwing contest off the ground for the Christmas party, not to mention you as well if we end up throwing our backs out in the process?"

Lennard sat in his chair and eyed the young twerp standing before him.

And no I'm not a mind reader. If I was, do you think I'd be having so much trouble with my wife? I know that's what he was thinking, because he's called me that on numerous occasions for similar remarks. Throwing his half-eaten jam donut into the box with the others, a shit-eating grin on his stupid dial, he mumbled around what he had in his mouth, "Things must be going well at home James?"

"What makes you think that?" I chipped.

Lennard beamed a million dollar smile, taking great pains in swallowing what he had and clearing his throat. "Because you're back to insulting my vertically challenged status again. I keep telling you, you long streak of pelican shit, I'm not a fucking midget! I damn well missed out on that distinction by two stupid inches."

He said while trying to lick a dab of jam from the corner of his mouth, "For your information I'm four ten in my loafers." He finished with a nonchalant shrug.

I broke up laughing. "Gee boss, maybe it's my six four, but you do look shorter than that! Are they the platform ones?"

"Smartarse! For that you get to go on safari for four glorious days and three lonely nights." Lennard chuckled.

"What? Egad! Damn me and my big mouth. Where?"

"Caxton! Jackson Enterprises are looking for a new solvent that's greenie approved, and your little project fits the bill I think. It might need a little modification to fit their needs, but that's your department. It's your baby and I expect you to put it to bed safe and sound."

"God damn Caxton? That's the arse end of...well, nowhere! I take back everything I have ever said about you Lennard. You are an arsehole. How long did you say I have to be there for, and when do I leave?"

"I know I'm an arsehole James, it's why we get along so well. With all the shit we have to deal with in life, where the hell would we be without them? Four days should see it through, and you leave tomorrow. Just enough time to get home, kiss the little woman on the forehead, and get a couple of bags packed before you're outa here. This business could very well see a tidy little profit if we can pull it off."