The Trojan Lasagna Ch. 03 - Dessert

Since this was Rosalie's first offense, the prosecutor and Rosalie's court-appointed defense attorney worked out a plea bargain for possession. Ordinarily this was a third-degree felony punishable by 5 years of prison time and $5,000 in fines, but they recommended $3,000 in fines, plus 3 years of home confinement with an ankle monitor.

One night after having dinner with Terry and Janine, I was cruising on I-69 North to Indianapolis listening to the Ford's AM radio. (Mom had given me back my old Ford Galaxie after she married Joe; since my name was on the Ford's title, it was the car Terry brought over to Dorothy's for me.) As usual, the radio was tuned to Chicago's WLS; Your Love by the Outfield was playing.

"...so many things that I want to say,

You know I like my girls a little bit older."

That lyric stung for obvious reasons. And as if I weren't already feeling isolated, the next song played was Dave Mason's We Just Disagree.

"I'm going back to a place that's far away

How 'bout you, have you got a place to stay?

Why should I care when I'm just trying to get along?

We were friends, but now it's the end of our love song..."

Now fully depressed, I made a mental note to myself to use some of my settlement money and buy a car with one of those new CD players that were so popular. The Galaxie's AM radio just wasn't cutting it anymore. Shit!

~~~~~~~~~~

On a conference call with the Reynolds and Franklin team, there was mixed news, starting with the fact the restraining order keeping me from seeing Addy had finally been lifted. For me, it was too late.

Howard Reynolds, the firm's senior partner and family law attorney, had sent an agreement to Donna's attorney for legal separation; this spelled out shared custody specifics, with me picking up Addy every Friday night and bringing her to Indianapolis, then getting her back to Donna in Fairburn on Sunday night.

As for the wrongful discharge suit, Halway Brothers maintained that Indiana was an "at-will employment" state, allowing employers to terminate employees at any time for no reason. They offered no settlement, especially since the rights of a young man legally didn't mean doodly-squat in Indiana.

The only good news that came of that was the partner that Dave Bankston, who'd initially interviewed me at Halway Brothers, had resigned to join the firm of Midwestern Financial Advisors.

Since Dave was building his own support team, he asked me to join him when he heard the news of Halway Brothers giving me a raw deal. I gladly accepted, and was now employed again. However slightly, things were looking up.

As for the lawsuit with the city of Fairburn, the City Attorney had countered our $750,000 counter with an offer of $600,000, which we accepted after learning Officer Foley had been demoted and resigned as a result. I had now been awarded $650,000 in settlements, which, even after taxes, would leave a nice college fund for Addy.

Since we'd settled with the city of Fairburn, Reynolds and Franklin advised me not to file a civil suit against Officer D. Foley himself despite my wishes to destroy him. With the overwhelming evidence we'd probably win hands down, but if any damages were awarded, they said he'd probably declare bankruptcy the next day and we'd never see a dime of it.

Basically, with the lawyers' fees it would take, even a win would be a loss. It sucked, but it made sense.

With all the lawsuit stuff behind me, newly separated and about to start a new job, I decided to cheer myself up by being an irresponsible bachelor. As soon as the settlement money hit my bank account I went to the Pontiac dealer, traded in the Galaxie, and dropped $12,000 on a new 1989 Trans Am 5-speed, V8 convertible. And yes, I made damned sure it came equipped with a CD player.

The first day I had it, despite it being December I dropped the top (turning the heater to full blast) and took a drive through the countryside. Driving the big machine was fun at first, but gradually I felt sad that I was by myself without Donna to enjoy it with me. Shaking off my maudlin mood, I opened up the center console and pulled out a music sampler CD the dealership had given me, sliding it into the disc slot.

The very first song that played was Never Tear Us Apart by INXS, and the speakers did a great job of blasting out the tune despite the wind noise.

"You were standing,

I was there,

Two worlds collided,

And they could never tear us apart..."

I ejected the damned thing and threw it into the convertible's chilly slipstream. Shit!

~~~~~~~~~~

My first day at Midwestern Financial Advisors, I noticed there was a preponderance of women working there. These were not Midwestern girl-next-door types, they were hard-nosed pantsuit-wearing B-school grad women, most of them were traders paid on commission. Judging by the number of Jaguar, BMW and Mercedes cars in the parking lot, they did pretty well for themselves.

All my life I'd had to be self-motivated and independent which eventually gave me confidence, but frankly, these women were like a school of sharks with nail polish; they scared the hell out of me. I still wore my wedding ring and had a picture of Addy on my desk, but for some of them this only made me more appealing.

I wasn't the only one who noticed. One day Christy Alvear, a tall and slim married administrative assistant with five kids, casually remarked in the lunchroom, "Face it, Josh, to those women you're a hot commodity: a man in his twenties who's not afraid of commitment or of carrying a diaper bag."

I shook my head and chuckled in disbelief, "Get real, Christy, I'm nothing special. Besides, I'm married!"

It was Christy's turn to chuckle, "Sorry to tell you buddy, but you're oblivious. Every time you walk through the Sales and Trading bullpen, I can almost smell them ovulating. And yes, they know you're married, but to several of them that just makes you even more of a prize. Believe me, if they thought you were unhappy in your marriage there'd be a competition to take your wife's place."

If anything, this revelation frightened me more. Whenever I was invited for drinks after work, I made it a point to always say no. However, to keep up 'team' appearances, if there were other after-work social activities that didn't revolve around strictly going to bars, like bowling or softball, I joined in. It was a Thursday-night touch football game, however, that changed everything.

On one play I was the receiver. There was a man playing defense, Cleo from Accounts Receivable. Cleo was huge, a former Division 1 player probably 6'2", and close to 250 pounds. I was the designated receiver; when the ball was snapped, I went long. Tapping into a reservoir of speed nobody knew he had, Cleo began chasing me as I ran my route.

Focused on making the catch, I was paying no attention to the giant A/R billing specialist bearing down on me as I pulled in the ball. At 5'8" and maybe 150 pounds, I was an afterthought as Cleo, momentarily forgetting it was touch football, tackled me.

I'd managed to make the catch but once we untangled, I couldn't put weight on my left foot without serious pain. Feeling bad, Cleo drove me to the emergency room; x-rays revealed three broken metatarsals. A little surgery and wearing a cast for a few weeks would fix me right up, and I could still walk short distances using crutches. Because my Trans Am was a stick shift requiring my left foot for the clutch, however, I couldn't drive.

Getting to work wasn't an issue because there were several overly accommodating women from the Sales and Trading team who were more than happy to include me in their carpool; my personal situation, however, was another story.

Not being able to drive meant I couldn't get to Fairburn to pick up Addy for my weekend visitations. Only seeing her on the weekends was bad enough, but my injury had completely closed the door on that. Plus, Christmas was coming in three weeks so I'd miss giving Addy her presents and seeing her under the tree. Realizing this, the hounds of depression began nipping at my heels.

I picked up the phone and called Donna. We'd achieved a truce where we treated each other civilly, not sharing anything personal, only discussing Addy-related topics. I explained how I was injured and unable to drive, and so wouldn't be seeing our daughter until sometime in January, wished her a Merry Christmas, then hung up.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting in my recliner with my left foot in a cast and elevated, I attempted to reflect on my successes -- earning my college degree, getting a great job -- that I'd accomplished without help. Despite my parents' disapproval, I'd gotten everything I wanted, and lived my life the way I wanted to. Except for one thing, of course: my being a father. That wasn't such a great success story.

Yes, I'd become a father, but I was a piss-poor one, ranking right down there with my own loser of a dad. Not only was I doing fatherhood weekends only, but I hadn't become a father alone. It had been a team effort, and now my teammate had turned me away because of a false accusation. That really stung.

I tried to distract myself by watching television, but there was nothing on that could pull me back from falling deeper into my emotional black hole. I was doing a half-assed job as a dad anyway, and my injury prevented me from even doing that! I'd bought a small three foot artificial Christmas tree, but it was mostly bare because decorating it while on crutches while was too frustrating and uncomfortable. So here I sat in a stained sweatshirt and sweatpants, engaged in a self-pity party.

The doorbell rang, but I didn't bother to struggle to my feet and grab my crutches to answer it. Nobody ever came to my apartment unless it was door-to-door religious missionaries, or some assclown selling magazine subscriptions. Fuck that.

I shouted, "GO AWAY," and tried to distract myself by thinking about which frozen dinner I'd eat tonight. I'd eaten the ones with fried chicken and the tikka masala, which left a Salisbury steak dinner (not my favorite) and a beef pot pie. Then I wondered who exactly was this guy Salisbury, and why was I stupid enough to buy one of his sucky dinners in the first place?

Then I heard the sound of a key in my front door lock, and the door opened. I couldn't believe it when Donna walked in, carrying Addy!

"Donna, what are you doing here? Why didn't you call first?" Donna walked over and placed Addy in my arms.

Taking off her coat, I saw she was wearing a nice holiday outfit, a red silk blouse over a green skirt. I also noticed she wasn't wearing a bra under her red blouse, her nipples making little tents in the silk. Despite myself, I pictured my mouth around them.

"I didn't call," she explained, "because if I did, you would've told me not to come. I'm here because you gave me a spare key for emergencies, and this was an emergency because I knew how sad you'd be if you couldn't see Addy."

I held Addy, kissed her head and whispered, "Momma was right, Daddy really missed you." She was already half-asleep, and soon began her sweet little snore.

In a quiet voice, I told Donna "There's a crib in the bedroom, if you want to put her down there."

Donna nodded, then lifted Addy from my arms and took her into the bedroom.

A minute later, she returned and took a seat on the end of the sofa, next to my recliner. "I'm impressed," she said softly, "a changing table in a bachelor's apartment is not something you expect to see. Plus, that crib is nicer than the one we have at home."

My face suddenly felt warm. "Yeah, since I don't see Addy that often, I want to treat her like a princess when she's with me."

I don't know what prompted me to say what I said next, maybe it was seeing her nipples poking against her blouse, but I added, "You know, when I show my co-workers her picture, they all tell me she's the most beautiful baby in Indiana. I tell them that given how beautiful her mother is, that's no surprise."

Donna's eyes got wide with surprise. "Joshua Lujack, did you actually give me a compliment?"

"No," I denied, maybe a little too quickly, "I was merely stating a fact. Whatever else may have changed between us, my opinion of you being insanely beautiful certainly hasn't."

"So, while we've been separated, despite you working with attractive co-workers, you've never tried the grass in other pastures?" I rolled my eyes at how Donna was euphemistically dancing around the subject. This was bullshit; I was having none of it.

"Cut the crap, Donna," I snapped quietly, so as not to wake Addy. I concentrated my gaze on the pattern of the carpet to avoid looking at my estranged wife.

"I married the smartest and most attractive woman in the fucking tri-state area. None of the women I work with can hold a damned candle to you," I hissed, waving my arm for emphasis. "I find every one of them to be shallow and tiresome. When they start talking about what they did over the weekend, partying and going to clubs, it makes my skin crawl." I shuddered involuntarily as I said those words.

Then I looked into Donna's eyes, now welling with tears. This was the first time I'd had a real conversation with my wife in weeks, and my feelings came pouring out.

"My life with you was perfect until Rosalie came back! She lied about what happened, then you got that restraining order in place before I even woke up in the damned hospital! Because of her lies, her cop brother-in-law beat the shit out of me and I lost a job offer, yet somehow I still end up the bad guy who had a restraining order slapped on me. Even after I was proven to be innocent, you took your sweet-ass time to rescind it. You made it clear I wasn't important to you!"

"Josh, please let me explain," she pleaded, tears running down her face and anointing the silk of her blouse. "You're my husband and I love you, you are important to me!"

Calming a bit, I paused my diatribe. After all, Donna had brought Addy to be with me, even though she didn't have to. "You can try," I growled.

"I may not approve of her life choices, but Rosalie is still my daughter, the same as Addy. I reacted like any good mother would, protecting her child."

"Did you raise your daughter to falsely accuse men of sexual assault?"

"No, Josh, and I'm so sorry that I believed her. No mother wants to believe that her child is capable of doing such horrible things. It wasn't easy for me to accept what my sweet little girl turned into."

Donna moved off the couch, kneeling next to me and taking my right hand in both of hers.

"I made a horrible mistake, Josh. Yes, you're my husband and I should have believed you, but I was only trying to protect my daughter. Please don't divorce me. I failed you, and you have every right to be angry, but if you still feel the way you say you do, can you please find it in your heart to forgive me?"

I now found myself in a quandary, forced to choose between two paths.

Down the first path, I proceed with a divorce and share limited custody of my daughter. This would also entail living by myself while enduring hours of tedious 'get to know you' dating discussions and tenuous sex, as well as forking over no end of cash for things like Van Halen concert tickets and gifts for a woman that may ultimately decide she liked another guy better, most likely someone as vapid as herself.

Following the other path would mean totally abandoning the bachelor lifestyle to spend as much time as possible with my daughter, as well as sharing interests and enjoying deep conversations with a white-haired sexual dynamo who always left me physically depleted, yet desiring more.

It was a tough choice -- NOT!

Grabbing the recliner handle, I returned the footrest into the chair's base so I was now seated upright. Gently clearing my throat, I told Donna, "I'll forgive you, but only under three conditions."

"Anything, Josh, I swear!"

"First, I want you to unbutton your blouse all the way so I can put my hands on those amazing tits of yours. Second, I want you to sit in my lap and really kiss me like you missed me."

"And third?"

"Third, if I get an erection after the first two conditions are met, I expect you to ride it until you cum."

"What about you cumming?"

"If you meet the conditions I've laid out, that will be a given."

Donna stood up and began unbuttoning her blouse as requested, then slid into my lap. I put my arms around her and pulled her in close, kissed her neck just under her jaw. She smelled wonderful, and my cock got hard even before I slipped a hand up to fondle her breasts. She pressed her lips to mine, gasping as my fingertips began teasing a nipple.

"I've missed you so much," I whispered in between kisses, "I never stopped thinking about you. You're my wife and the mother of my perfect child. Even after you threw me out, I never stopped wanting you back."

I would have confessed even more, but Donna covered my mouth with hers and made it impossible. Sliding my hand under the hem of her skirt, I pushed it up, exposing her thighs and white silk panties. Slipping her panties off, I began planting kisses on her now-exposed breasts, and moved her blouse off her shoulders so her belly was exposed. To my eyes, the faded stretchmarks from her two pregnancies just made her look even sexier.

As we continued making out like a couple of kids, I felt Donna push my sweatpants down to my knees, exposing my hardness. I groaned into her mouth as I felt her stroking me with her hand. Suddenly, she got up and repositioned herself with her back towards me, then lowered herself onto my rigid cock. She was plenty wet, and it slid in easily.

I grasped her hips with my hands, urging her on, "That's it, baby, ride me! Yeah, come on that cock!" (To someone not there in person, it might sound like cheesy dialogue from a Vivid Video porn film, but watching my wife's sweet ass bouncing on my dick, believe me, it made perfect sense!)

Following my instructions to the letter, Donna came hard and fast, crying out and stiffening as her orgasm made her spasm in pleasure. Moments later, shuddering and crying out, my balls released their pent-up load and I shot jets of my cum deep into her wonderful womb.

After a few minutes of recovery, we managed to untangle ourselves out of our sweaty heap and quietly move to my bed. As we settled in, Donna kissed me and whispered, "You're a better husband than I am a wife, I really don't deserve you." I'd just shot a huge amount of cum in this woman, so I wasn't about to argue the point. I just thanked her, returned the kiss, and held her close to me.

I was too excited and happy to fall asleep because my wife and my daughter were with me, so I just lay there and listened to the wonderful sounds of their breathing. Eventually I dozed off, blissfully unaware of what the morning would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~

My new Panasonic RC-X210 clock radio went off. I'd set it for 'wake to music', so the strains of Rod Stewart's Maggie May floated out:

"The morning sun, when it's in your face

Really shows your age

That don't worry me none

In my eyes, you're everything..."

Donna was still fast asleep, and in the morning light, hers was the face of an angel. I wanted to cover it with kisses, but she was a toddler's mother, deserving of her rest. Swinging my legs out of bed, I reached for my crutches and went into the kitchen to prepare Addy's morning bottle, to hold her over until Donna could give her baby food.

Donna woke up shortly and made some coffee, eggs and toast for me, then changed Addy and fed her a jar of apple-zucchini-peach puree.

Me being me, I was already planning what my logistics would be like once I moved back home. I was talking through it aloud as Addy finished her breakfast. "Driving into Indianapolis every day will be a problem. I may have to resign from my job. I don't want to be apart from you, and I refuse to be a part-time dad anymore."