The Reunion

I've read a lot of stories about high school reunions where the wife cheats with an old boyfriend and gets caught, or not. I figured there had to be another outcome that we don't always get to hear. This story is inspired by the question, "What is the old boyfriend like?" I'm thinking that I wasn't very kind in providing the answer, but then I didn't want to be.

This story contains a lot of internal monologue appropriate to a character in this position.

* * * * *

I awoke to a slow, rhythmic sound. "Clock woosh, clock woosh, clock woosh,..." Where was I? What was that smell? The odor of disinfectant filled my nostrils. My mouth was dry. How long have I been here? I struggled to open my eyes, but it was so bright! With a groan, I shut them immediately and concentrated on breathing. I couldn't move and every breath I took felt like a knife passing through my side. I slowly became conscious of pain everywhere like a veil lifting from my mind.

"He's waking up."

Who was that?

"Mr. Davis, can you hear me?"

I nodded, or I think I did.

"Mr. Davis, you're in the hospital. You were brought in last night. The doctor will be in to speak with you as soon as he's available. Just try to relax and don't move any more than you need to."

I tried to raise my hand and, oh crap that hurts! What the hell did they do to my arm? The pain goes all the way up to my shoulder. The stabbing pain makes me breathe even harder and that knife passes through me again. What the hell is going on?

I decided to lie still and just try to breathe slow, shallow breaths.

I guess she left and in time I tried again to open my eyes. The vision in my left eye was a blur, and my right eye was dark. I think a nurse walked by, so that confirmed what they told me. Another glanced in my direction. She must have seen me licking my lips, because she offered me a straw and I took a sip. Oh, yeah, that's good.

I don't know how much time passed. I was trying to avoid anything that caused me pain, but since that included breathing, I wasn't having much success.

A white coat is walking in my direction. "Mr. Davis, I'm Dr. Petel. You were brought in last night by EMS. How are you feeling?"

"How the fuck do you think I'm feeling, you..." At least, that's what I tried to say.

"Don't try to speak, Mr. Davis. Your nose is broken, and your cheekbone has a hairline fracture."

What the hell? He asks me a question and then tells me not to speak?!

"You were in surgery for four hours last night to rebuild your right knee. You also have three broken ribs on your right side and a compound fracture of your right forearm."

"Eye?"

"Yes, your right eye is swollen shut, but the damage is superficial. The swelling should go down in a few days. You did have a mild concussion when they brought you in, so we want you to take it easy for a while. You'll be staying with us until we know you're out of the woods."

"How?"

"Sorry, Mr. Davis. I'm not supposed to answer that question. When you're ready, the police want to talk with you. In the meantime, they don't want us to bias your answers.

"The nurses are here to take care of you. For now, I suggest you just get some rest. You're still in post op, but they'll be moving you to a room soon."

And then he was gone. That was it? What the hell happened to me? I was drinking and hanging with friends. I was dancing with... Oh, yeah, Karen. It was coming back to me. I was dancing with Karen, my old high school girlfriend. She was grinding on my leg and rubbing against me. My god, she was even hotter than when we were in school. Some guy kept trying to cut in. Who was he? It doesn't matter. She kept laughing him off and telling him to let her have some fun for once. Oh, yeah, I remember now. The wimp was her husband.

They moved me to a semi-private room, and I got a little sleep. I wanted them to put me to sleep for a week, but they refused. They said something about the concussion. Could it get any worse?

I don't think I slept long, but there's no way to tell. Time passed slowly when I was awake, and I measured time in breaths. Small, shallow breaths hurt less. My throat was raw. Where's the nurse? It even hurt to swallow.

Who are those people making all that noise? They must be visiting the guy in the other bed. Would they please just shut the hell up?

Breathe easy. Take shallow breaths. Just try to relax.

Where are my visitors? Where's my wife? She should be here. I haven't seen my parents or my sister's family. Do they even know I'm here?

"Mr. Davis?"

I opened my one good eye. He's looking down at me, cheap brown suit, notebook, must be a cop. I nod.

"Mr. Davis, I'm Detective George Abbott. I've been assigned to your case. What can you tell me about last night?"

I try to explain. "I got jumped! I was minding my own business..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Davis. I can't understand what you're saying."

"Detective, he's not ready. All the swelling is keeping him from speaking and the pain meds have him groggy. You should come back tomorrow."

"Thanks, nurse. Mr. Davis, I'll be back when you're ready to speak." The suit turned and walked out.

What the fu...! I'm ready! Find the guy!

My side is hurting again, and my leg has started to throb. "Nurse! Nurse! My leg."

"Mr. Davis, is your leg hurting? Your pain medication is probably wearing off. I'll get you something." She comes back with two pills and some water with a straw. "Just lie there and try to be calm. Don't move any more than you need to. You'll feel better tomorrow." She's gone before I can ask her where my wife is.

I slept fitfully that night and the next day they have me on my feet with a walker. That's what they do now. When you have knee surgery, they want you up and walking right away. I walked to the far end of the hall and back. Then they ice my knee and four hours later they have me do it again. I'm taking Oxycontin as fast as they'll give them to me and popping ibuprofen and acetaminophen in between like Tic Tacs.

I'm lying in my bed when the suit returns. "Mr. Davis, you may not remember me. I'm Detective George Abbott and I'm here to talk with you about what happened." He paused for a moment as I nodded and then he continued. "How much of it do you remember?"

I shrugged. "I remember the evening and leaving the party. I was walking across the parking lot when I got hit from behind. I vaguely remember going down, but that's about it."

"Do you remember what happened before that?"

"It was our tenth high school reunion. I drove down from Chicago where I live now. It was a blowout. The committee decorated the gym and we finally got to have all those drinks we couldn't get when we were in school there." I thought that would get him, but Detective Abbott didn't even crack a smile. "I was catching up with my buddies, meeting some of the wives, all the usual stuff. My old girlfriend, Karen, was there with her wimpy husband. She ran over as soon as she saw me and dragged me out on the dance floor. Damn, she was even sexier than when we were in school. One song and it was like we were back in school. She melted into me like she always did and before long she was dry humping my leg. I mean, damn, she always was a stone-cold fox, but that night she was out of control." Okay, I was bragging a little, but it was true, and I was just getting to the good stuff.

"Do you remember anything else?"

"Her wimpy husband kept trying to break in and she kept laughing him off. At one point she said, 'Just go away and let me have some fun!' Damn, she could be cold, but she was hot for me. We found a table, grabbed some drinks, and talked. She kept rubbing my leg under the table until hubby finally dragged her back to their table. That didn't last long and either she would come to me, or I would go to her. I took her away from her husband's table three or four times. One more round on the dance floor and it was settled. I took off for the men's room and ducked down the stairs to the men's locker room. Five minutes later she joined me. Damn, she was a hot fuck in school, but she was on fire that night! She was screaming like a wild woman and with all that tile on the floor and walls it's a wonder they didn't hear us upstairs. Just when I thought we were done, she started up again.

"We finally ducked out of the locker room and headed upstairs separately. The reunion was breaking up, so I headed for my car. At some point as I crossed the parking lot, I got hit from behind. I remember hitting the ground, but that's about all I remember. Then I woke up here."

I glanced past the detective and noticed a nurse standing not far behind him. She seemed to be listening in. I guess she doesn't have a life of her own. Who cares?

Detective Abbott was nodding and taking a few notes, but I got the feeling he wasn't taking this seriously. "Anything you want to add?"

"No. That's all I remember."

"Okay, then. I have your statement. I'll get back to you in a few days if I need anything further."

"That's it? Can't you at least tell me something of what happened to me?"

"Well, we don't have much to go on. Apparently, there were some people in the parking lot, but nobody will admit to seeing anything."

"What? Nobody? What about my friends?"

"As near as we can tell, Mr. Davis, nobody is willing to admit to being your friend. Some people admit to seeing you at the reunion, but nobody saw you leave, and nobody saw the assault."

"That's crazy. There must have been at least twenty people in the parking lot."

"What can I say, Mr. Davis? Nobody admits to seeing anything."

"Well, what do you think happened?"

"Off the record, we think that Karen Jefferson's husband, Bill, beat your ass."

"The wimp?"

"Maybe, but he's walking around and you're not."

"You don't seem too concerned about it. A crime was committed."

"It used to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It used to be a crime to have sex with another man's wife, but that law was taken off the books years ago. Now it's just a vile thing that no decent man with an ounce of self-respect would even consider doing."

I looked him in the eyes. He wasn't even trying to hide his disgust. "Okay. I get it. You're going to sweep it under the rug like it never happened."

"Not at all, Mr. Davis. If anyone comes forward with new evidence, we will certainly look into it. Right now, it's looking like just another unsolved assault. We get a lot of those when too much drinking is involved."

"What if I press charges?"

"You're free to do that, but without evidence it probably won't go anywhere. Even if it does, you should know that juries here take a dim view of men who screw other men's wives. There's a good chance that even with evidence you won't get a verdict you like."

"So you're going to do nothing."

"There's nothing more to do." With that, Detective Abbott turned and walked out of the room.

Typical cop! Where the hell is my family? Where are my friends? Why didn't my friends tell the police what they saw? Damn, I hated this sanctimonious town growing up and I can't wait to get back to Chicago.

That nurse who was listening in on my discussion with the detective is still in the room. "Nurse? Do you have a minute?" She looks annoyed, but she walks over to me. "Has my wife been notified that I'm here?"

"Yes, Mr. Davis. She was contacted when they brought you in. She was here when you came out of surgery along with your parents."

"How come I haven't seen them? Have they been turned away for some reason?"

"No, they were talking with some of your friends when you came out of surgery and then they left." With that, she just turned and walked out of the room.

They left? They just left me here? The next chance I get, I call over another of the nurses. "Excuse me, but I had a cell phone when I came in. Do you know where it is?"

"It should be with the clothes you were wearing." She opens the closet and pulls out a plastic drawstring bag. "Here it is." With that, she hands me my phone and leaves. The phone is dead.

I get a bite of lunch and they take me to rehab. They make me walk there and tell me it's good for my recovery. The pain in my knee is indescribable. In therapy, they force me to bend the knee. They're working to get me at least to a 90-degree bend. I'm getting about 45 and I want to scream with the pain. The therapist is telling me "No pain, no gain", but all I want to do is rip his head off and spit down his neck!

When the rehab session is done, they wheel me back to my room. I guess they figure they've tortured me enough and they give me lunch. Nobody comes here for the food. As I'm lying there, eating my Jell-O, my sister comes into the room. Finally! I have a visitor!

"Sis, am I glad to see you! Where is everybody? Does anyone else know that I'm here?" She never answers me.

"How are you doing?"

"Crappy. My knee is broken, my arm is broken, I've got three broken ribs, and my face is messed up."

"I can see it. What were you doing that got you messed up?"

"Nothing! I was just walking to my car after the reunion."

She ignores my answer. "Mom and dad were worried about you."

"Why aren't they here? The nurse told me they were here when I came out of surgery, but then they left."

"We were all here."

"Why did you all leave? For crap's sake, I've been here almost 24 hours and I haven't seen a friendly face since I got here."

She ignores what I said and just seems to be looking around the room.

"At least you're here. I'm really glad you're here."

"I drew the short straw."

"What?"

"I was with mom and dad along with Janet and her parents and her brother."

"Janet's here? My wife came down from Chicago, but she can't be bothered to see how I'm doing?"

"Bill and his parents were there, too."

"Bill? Who's Bill?" Then it hits me. The detective said that Karen's husband is named Bill.

"Bill Jefferson. I think you met him last night."

What was Jefferson doing meeting with my parents?

"When are mom and dad coming?"

"I don't know if they are. Like I said, I drew the short straw."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means we aren't exactly proud of you right now, little brother. You brought shame on the family."

"Shame? I was jumped from behind! I never had a chance to defend myself!"

My sister leaned over close to my ear and in a whisper, she said, "You fucked another man's wife, you low-life piece of shit! You think mom and dad are proud of you right now? You think they want to show their face at church next Sunday? Do you know what it was like for them to face Bill and his family and admit they raised a low-life coward who skulks around behind another man's back and fucks his wife?"

"It wasn't my fault. She wanted it. A man can only resist so much!"

By now she had straightened up again. She looked me in the eyes and said, "You're not just a man. You're a married man. And don't give me any of that victim crap. Everyone at the reunion is talking about how you went after her."

"Oh, she wanted it. It wasn't all me."

"Pig! What if she did? You could have shown some class and not embarrassed the whole family."

I wasn't going to win this argument today and I needed someone to help me out. "Okay, maybe I could have behaved better, but it's all water under the bridge now."

Nothing.

"When is Janet coming in? Does she know? How mad is she?"

"Well, she's had a long talk with Bill and some of your former classmates, so take a guess."

"How did they find out?"

My sister shook her head. "Oh, I don't know. Let's see. Karen was screaming her head off in a tile room right under the dance floor, screaming like someone being murdered. A bunch of the men ran down to the basement followed by some of the women and everyone got an eye full of the two of you rutting like animals. Do you know there are cell phone videos from more than one phone? Do you know what it was like for your wife to watch those videos? Do you think our parents enjoyed it? Do you think Janet's parents enjoyed it? You fucked up big time little brother and you're not talking your way out of it this time.

"I'll tell everyone you're doing fine."

And with that, my older sister who had watched over me when I was small and defended me on the playground when the big kids were picking on me, turned and walked out of the room leaving me alone.

The day passes and I spend it popping pain meds with a bag of ice on my knee. I can't even take a crap without calling for a nurse to help me get there. I have another walk down the hall and back, and I eat a dinner that wouldn't pass for food at a kennel. All the while, I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to tell Janet. Those videos are going to be hard to discredit. Eventually I sleep.

The next day the nurse tells me I'll be going home and that I'll need help getting around for a few weeks as I continue my physical therapy. I ask the nurse to call my parents. They'll have to take me in no matter how upset they are. One more trip down the hall and a round of therapy, a big bag of ice, and some pills, and I'm ready to go. The nurse tells me that my parents are waiting for me downstairs and I take a sigh of relief. My relief was premature.

When I got to the doors of the hospital, I was glad to see them waiting for me. Everyone was there including my parents, my sister, and even my wife and her family. I was forgiven! Again, my relief was premature.

My loving wife walked up to my wheelchair, reached behind her, and then slapped me across the face with everything she had. "You bastard!" she yelled, and then she turned and walked out the door followed by her parents.

My mother walked up to me, and I cowered. "You're still my son and I love you, but I'm not ready to see you, yet. We've arranged for you to go to a rehab facility until you can function on your own. Maybe by then we'll be ready to talk with you."

My father just said, "Don't count on it!" and they both walked off to their car.

My wife's brother walked up to me and said, "You know what I do for a living, right?"

I said, "Yeah. You're a lawyer."

He dropped a thick envelope in my lap and said, "You've been served. The packet contains a petition for divorce and a court order to stay away from your home, your wife, and your kids until the matter is adjudicated." By the time I looked up from the envelope in my lap, he was gone as well.

"Sis, what's going on?"

"Remember when I told you that I drew the short straw? Do you understand now what that means? Nobody wanted to come and see how you were doing. We drew straws and I lost." With that, she turned and left.

I thought that was it, but then I noticed one more leaning against the wall. If there was anger and sadness in the eyes of my family, there was hatred and rage in his.

"Hello, Bill. I suppose you've come for your pound of flesh?"

He stood up straight, took a few slow steps toward the door, turned and said, "Prepare yourself, Davis. I plan on taking it one piece at a time." Then he was gone.

I thought there had been times in my life when I was alone, but I didn't know what alone really was until that moment. Everyone who I thought cared about me had turned their back and all for a little pussy on the side. What the hell was the big deal? The wimp was pissed. I get that. But why my own family?

I took a cab to rehab and settled in for two weeks of daily torture. They would release me when I could climb stairs. In all that time, not one person visited me except for my lawyer, and I paid him extra to do that. I tried to reach Karen, but she wasn't taking my calls. I found out later that she was fighting her own divorce as well. My arm, my ribs, and my knee, not to mention my face, told me that Bill wasn't the forgiving kind. I'll give her some time. Maybe she'll come around.