Victor and Isabelle

"We'll need to be talking to him. At least for the moment, he's gonna be our operations guru. Maybe give him an incentive to do his best. A raise usually works in situations like this," he said.

"Victor never believed in raises. His incentives were always bonuses for doin' a good job. Bonuses yes, raises no," she said.

******

"Horowitz didn't go for it?" said Roger.

"No. He said thanks but no thanks or words to that effect," said Isabelle. "Some kind of religious nut, I guess. He's the third since we took over: the third to turn me down for a date that is. So I guess, lover, that my outrageously good looks aren't the asset you thought they'd be. Sorry about that.

"Oh, and he said he'd have to think over his shipping contract with us before he renewed. Just a technicality, he said."

"Jesus, what's the matter with these people your husband did business with. They a bunch of eunuchs or something?"

"Maybe I'm just not the catch you think I am, lover. I'm thirty-eight years old. Not over the hill exactly, but the crest of the hill is definitely in sight," she said, laughing.

"Nonsense, you're the best lookin' chick in this burg. We've just run into a bunch of deadheads, or dead dicks" said Roger.

******

"I hate this place," said Lan. "I wanna talk to dad. He needs to know what's been going on if he doesn't already."

"Yes, and I want for us to talk to him too. But what can we do. Mom said dad was divorcing her because of what she and that man were doing. She said she confessed, and dad lost it and left her. I tried to call him at his office, but Margie said he didn't work there anymore. I guess he quit," said Lisa. "I can't believe that he left us. But mom said..."

"He'll contact us somehow," said Landry. "He has to contact us. Mom won't stop him from talking to us; I'm sure of that." Lisa looked thoughtful.

"We were sure she wouldn't cheat on daddy either, but she did. Right now I'm not taking anything for granted," she said. Landry took on a thoughtful expression too.

"We could call Mr. Wheeler or Eric," said Lan. "Maybe they know how to get hold of daddy."

Lisa looked at her brother and smiled. "You know, big brother, sometimes you do have your thinking cap on," she said.

******

I'd driven by the house to get my stuff and found a UHAUL truck parked out front. There was a note on the front door of the house when I showed up. The note stated that all of my stuff was in the truck and the keys were where I used to keep the extra set of house keys. She'd thought of everything, had my traitorous wife.

I got the keys from under the sill flower pot and checked out the truck. Three large boxes were in the back. I figured I should have been grateful that she'd at least allowed me to have my personal things. Helluva deal.

Fifteen years of marriage boiled down to this. Well fuck 'em. She and I would be talking at some point. I didn't know when, but we would, and I would be getting mine back; there was no fucking doubt about that. Oh no, no fucking doubt what so fucking ever!

I had some money in a personal account that Izzie knew nothing about. It was just a small checking account that I used for the odd emergency: gifts, expenses where I needed cash while traveling. Eventually, I would need the cash for a new apartment that I'd have to move into. Well, at least I had a little money to work with. Except for that two grand and my car, I didn't have a pot to piss in.

Surprise, surprise, my wife it seems had fired me without a compensation package. I did get my final check. It had been delivered to my older brother's house the day after the scene at the company gate. Fred had called my cell to tell me. Fred was my only remaining living relative. After dad and our younger brother had died, Fred and I had become very close, almost protective of each other.

Fred, was an ex marine with a hardon against women in general for the way he had been treated by his ex. Hell, I could relate. Retired military, he spent most evenings at the Buscadero, a country western bar and grill where men with good manners were hard to find and women with virtue rarer still. My kind of place I decided as I sat waiting for a twenty-something serving girl to deliver my glass full of forgetfulness.

"So, you okay?" said Fred taking stool next to mine.

"Hi Fred. Yeah, more or less. Thanks for letting me hang out at your place till I can find a place to land," I said. He shook off my thanks; it had been a foregone conclusion that I would stay at his place, as it would have been the other way 'round had our situations been reversed.

"Anyway, so Lisa called you? A boarding school, how fucking wonderful. Ojai is over a hundred miles away. Nice of good 'ole Izzie to let me know," I said. "The goddamn bitch is really socking it to me. I don't know what I ever did to her to make her want to hurt me like this. I mean my children for cryin' out loud! If she wanted a divorce, fine. I'd have cried a million tears for the loss of the love of my life and then gotten on with things. But the children! They should be neutral territory. Hell, I don't even have a job, and no access to my company's funds. I'm broke, goddamn it! How am I going to be able to get up there to that freakin' boarding school to see my babies on any regular basis," I said. "The divorce papers, the ones she dumped on me, proposed a once a month unsupervised visit with the children at their residence. I thought that meant the house. Hah!"

"Whaddya figure to do," he said.

"Like I said, the divorce agreement she's proposing said I had to see them at their place of residence. I didn't fight it because I thought their place of residence would be the house. But it's not the house. I'll have my lawyer looking into that. As far as I'm concerned the bitch set that one up in bad faith. Hell, what else could you call it, would anyone call it!" I said.

"Don't know about no lawyer stuff, but I will help you see them for the foreseeable future if you will allow," he said.

"Thanks bro. I'm broke, but not that broke. I've got a bit in the bank. I can get up there some way. I have to," I said.

"Vic, a piece of advice," said Fred.

"Yes?" I said.

"Don't grill the kids when you go there. Don't make them choose up. Kids see more than we dumbass adults have the wit to imagine. They'll tell if it's right for them to, and not—well—if not," he said. I nodded; he made sense.

******

Going up to see my kids was a chore. I had to see them, but it was a chore. Plus my brother's words kept ringing in my ears. He was right, but I was not going to be the bad guy in this. Somehow I had to make that clear to my babies; I had to make it right without blaming the dirty doublecrossing whore that their mother was. Okay, I was bitter.

I smiled. I had a random thought. Izzie and I had eaten at a Chinese restaurant that we both liked not too long before all this shit hit the fan. For no reason whatsoever, at least that I can recall, we'd started to talking with the owner: one Lee Shin Liang. The subject was the Chinese calendar. It seems that I was born in the year of the dragon. My wife? In the year of the rat! So fucking fitting. Maybe bitter didn't completely describe my current mental state.

******

We hugged for a full minute before letting each other go. "Whoa up there kids, one at a time."

"We are so glad you came, dad," said Lan. Lisa squealed.

"Daddy we missed you. You and mom...!" she started.

"Lisa, today is about the three of us. Your mom will be up to see you too; I'm sure of that," I said.

"Daddy, you—divorcing mom? How come," said Lisa. Boy this girl of mine didn't let any grass grow under feet, I thought as I recovered from my surprise.

"Whoa again, girl, I am not divorcing your momma; she's divorcing me. Whatever else you may have thought, that one is not the reality. I got papers served on me while I was out of town. It was your mom that started the proceedings. That said..." I said.

Lisa glanced at her brother, "Dad, mom said you'd found out about her...and that you...and that man..." Landry wasn't doing too well at expressing himself.

"Found out what? What man? What?" I said. Lisa took a deep breath and took her time exhaling.

"You didn't know did you dad. I mean about mom?" said Lisa.

"Know what!" I said. I was beginning to lose my patience; I took a deep breath. "If you kids have something to say; please, get to it."

"Dad, Landry and I—we caught mom—we heard them talking—dad, she was with another man. I think he works where she does. She must have been afraid that we'd tell you, so..." said Lisa.

"So, she decided to preempt me, or more accurately, anything I might decide to do if you told me," I said. I was talking mainly to myself.

"Dad, we are so sorry. We told her we didn't want you guys to divorce. We told her that we wouldn't..." said Lisa.

"Wouldn't what? Tell me? Tell me what you'd seen—heard?" Both children looked down. I nodded. The picture was clearing up now. Suddenly I knew that the boarding school thing was a reaction to the concern that I would turn them, the kids, against her.

Still, she must have known, known that the kids and I would be talking sooner or later. But—then—maybe she just figured she was short of options, kinda grasping at straws. The kids far away, made contact harder, and by inference marginally more advantageous to her purposes.

My soon to be ex-wife sure was one mixed up cookie. I suppose the good news for her was that she got everything that had any significant value from our marriage because of the contract that did me out of my business. Bank accounts, the business, the house since it was owned by the company. And oh yes, temporary prime custody of the children, but all that could change; and, I'd be looking into my parental rights real soon. The divorce still had months to run before it was final.

I knew that I could go after her on the business, now that I knew the real reason, which was not greed per se, as I know realized; but rather the cover up of a sleazy conspiracy. Evidence to which conspiracy the children, who had witnessed the sinners firsthand, had knowledge.

To involve or not to involve the children, that was the question. There could only be one answer to that proposition—no. Short of a question of life and death, I would never put them in the middle of something like this. No, if the lovers were willing to destroy people's lives for money, I was not. Sooner or later they'd screw up and then they'd be payin' up for what they did. Oh yeah. Patience was not one of my virtues, but in this case I planned to be a very Job!

I sighed, there was going to be some tough days ahead, at least for me. I knew she'd see to the welfare of the children; she wasn't that big of an asshole. But for me, it looked like lean times. Fifty-five years old: driving a truck again was not an option. Besides, I didn't have a truck. Try to catch on with someone else? Who'd want an old fart like me. Still, I did have some skills. I knew my way around diesels. A mechanic? Maybe. I knew one guy I probably could approach in that regard.

******

"That bad, Vic?" said Mac Wheeler. "I—"

"You know I wouldn't be asking, Mac, if I had any options. But she pretty much screwed me out of everything with that bogus contract she made me sign. I may not even have any retirement anymore unless my lawyer can break the deal I made with her; she controls everything. Hah! It was to protect her that I signed the damn thing. What a laugh. He told me at the time that I should have included a defense clause in case of a divorce. But, oh no, I had to be the big shot. The trusting jackass of a husband. And the kids..."

"Victor, you're hired, okay. I need a part time specialist," said Mac.

"A specialist?" I said.

"Yeah, someone to help train a couple of newbies I hired last month. Hard to get qualified folks these days. I was going to do some moonlighting on my own to train them, but with you coming on—well—it would only be part time. You know a couple of hundred a week; best I can do, Vic," he said. "But, you can fill your tank—I mean your car—here..." I interrupted him.

"Yeah, at least I still have my car, damn little else, but I do have that," I said.

Mac continued,"...and there's a little cubbyhole back of the big floor that you can shack up in if you want. It's got a small bathroom attached and a half-assed cot in it. I mean if you want."

"Mac, thanks. I'll take you up on the cubby too. I've been shacking with my brother for the past few days, but..." I said.

"Yeah, I understand. You can move in right now if you want," he said.

I was able to stack the three large boxes of my stuff in the corner of the cubby; I could have left them at my brother's, but it was all stuff I'd need sooner or later, so I wanted it with me wherever I landed. The boxes being in there didn't leave me much room to move around, but the place was dry and it was secure.

Laying on the cot, I thought back to all of the happenings. One day I had money, prestige, a loving wife, kids to hug me when I got home each night; the next day nothing. Helluva thing.

I'd needed a job. Well, I'd gotten one, at least for the short term. I needed a place to crash; I had that now: five star accommodations it sure as hell wasn't, but it was free; proving thereby that there was an upside to everything. Now, if I could just find me a shoulder to cry on—preferably a female shoulder.

******

"Yes, have him come in Marge," said Isabelle.

"Good morning, Eric. It is very good to see you. We've met before of course but it has been a while," she said.

"Yes," he said, "it has been a long time. Christmas three years ago as I recall."

"Yes, I believe that that is so.

"Is everything all right? I mean on the job, Eric," she said.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said. "Been kinda spinnin' our wheels waiting' for directions. I mean since the boss—"

"Yes, well that's just it, Eric, I'm the boss now. My husband and I—well—we broke up. But, life goes on; business continues. What I mean, Eric, is that I need a good man to run the day to day operations. I'd like to offer that responsibility to you—with a commensurate increase in pay of course," said Isabelle.

She saw him ease back in his seat. He nodded. "Gonna be strange not having Vic to make the decisions, but I guess, I can do it," he said.

******

"So Eric was able to get the orders shipped all right?" said Roger.

"Yes, but he asked me about next week," Izzie.

"And that would be about what?" said Roger.

"He told me that the trucks have no place to go after Tuesday next; that is apart from some small stuff in town. There's nothing to be shipped during the next while since most of the contracts, at least the large ones from the big companies are up for renewal and except for Horowitz none of them have. Reupped that is. He only did it because of his friendship with Eric. Seems like the three of them: Horowitz, Eric, and Victor used to be tight; I mean when they were all driving," said Isabelle.

"Jesus," said Roger. "We gotta get some of those contracts renewed or else get some new business to take their place. We need a salesman."

"What's wrong with you doing something to help out here? It was your idea to screw the man over, after all, and that as well as my quitting the firm to run this place," said Izzie. "I can't be in two places at once." She looked frustrated.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Roger.

"Victor used to be able to do both, but I ain't him," said Izzie. "I just can't do thirteen and fourteen hours a day!"

"I'll think of something. I'll think of something," said Roger.

"Yeah, well in the meantime, big guy. Yo have some other business to take care of," she said.

"Here?" I mean here? In the office?"

******

She came to him and they melded to each other obscenely rubbing their pubes together like two sex starved teenagers. She pushed him back and walked over to her desk. She hiked up her skirt and bent herself over it. No words were spoken.

He turned and went to the door and locked it, throwing the dead bolt. Coming back to her, he knelt behind her and began kissing her still panty clad buttocks and pressing his nose into her crack.

"You smell wonderful," he said.

"Of course," she giggled.

He slid her panties down and pulled them off her feet. She spread legs a little wider for him. He continued his kissing, and now licking her crack and anus. She sighed as he worshipped her.

She felt him stop and pull back from her. She heard his zipper being pulled down and the soft sounds his clothes made as he tossed them on the floor.

She felt him move behind her. She didn't notice him spit on his hands and lather his cock. His hands separated the twin globes of her now slickened butt crack. He pressed himself against her anal entrance and pushed, not too hard. He waited, pushed a little more. She grunted. He was inside of her. He began screwing her. She made little squeaky noises that indicated a mixture of small pain and big pleasure.

"Oh my yes, Roger, fuck me. Do me really good," she said. He responded by increasing the tempo of her screwing. She pushed back at him. Moments later she began jerking spasmodically as she came and continued to cum. He stiffened and painted her bowels white with his semen.

He leaned forward and lay across her still bent over form. For her part, she lay still, her senses still alive from her fucking. She loved being butt fucked. It was the one thing that her Victor had always been halfway good at. She thought about that now even with her lover's cock was still buried inside of her.

She felt him pull out. She pushed herself back up, turned and watched him as he retrieved his clothing and began to don them. "That'll have to be enough for the moment," she said. "Thank you. You did well." she giggled. Finished dressing, he smiled back at her, turned, and went out.

******

I settled into my new digs and part time job—that turned out to be almost full time for but little more pay than the original plan called for—and tried to get on with my life. Get on with my life, but thoughts of my ex and her lover were never far from my mind.

I saw her, Isabelle, again but once over the next two years. That once had been the day of the final decree of the divorce. I'd attended, though my lawyer had said I didn't need to, mainly to get a look at my replacement whom I had never yet laid eyes on. I was not disappointed. He was there, looking arrogant. I saw him mouth some words at me, "I've got her now, wimpy, deal with it." I could feel my face darken. I had every intention of dealing with it. Sooner or later the fucking chickens were going to be coming home to roost.

For her part Isabelle only looked over in my direction once. Her wrinkled brow told me she regretted screwing me over, but felt she'd had no choice; yes, I saw all of that in her look. I just shook my head slowly indicating that there would be no forgiveness for the treacherous way she'd done me.

At the end of the proceedings I was single and still all but broke and still bitter and still lonely. It was no surprise to me, but the two conspirators tied the knot a few weeks after the final judgment was in the books.

******

"Mac's gone for the day, Victor?

"Say, could you do me a favor and give me a lift home," said Jennifer. "Mine is into the dealership for its free servicing—it's still pretty new." Jennifer Curtis had been with Mac, as his secretary and all around trouble shooter for some seven years as he'd said.

"Sure bet," I said. "Five o'clock, right?"

"Yes. That would be great, Victor, really," she said.

The ride to Jennifer's house was noisy. It seemed she liked loud country music. We were both rockin' the car as we motored down the street toward her place. Pulling into her carport, we were laughing our heads off. Both of us were doing our level best to ruin Melissa Lambert's "Famous in a Small Town."