Where The Hell Was She?

"What do you mean?" he asked. I told him I pissed and crapped on his car and Marcy's dress. He laughed at that.

"It just seemed like the thing to do at the time," I said. He smiled and offered his hand.

"Keep in touch, Joe," he said. "You're always welcome in our home."

"Thanks," I said.

The day over, I headed out for a beer and a burger, then came home and racked out on the floor, since everything else was gone. That Sunday, I finished cleaning the place and loaded my truck. I didn't have much -- just my clothes, my television, the stereo I bought in Okinawa and my tools. Once I had everything secured down, I put the top on the bed of the truck.

One more night on the floor and I was gone the next day, after I got my security and cleaning deposit. I still had some time left, so I stopped to visit my folks in Texas for a few days, then went on out to Cherry Point, North Carolina.

I still had well over $2,500 in cash plus the check for the apartment when I got there, so I opened a new account at the credit union and settled in to the barracks. A couple months later or so, I got word from the attorney that the divorce was final. Apparently, Marcy decided not to contest anything and didn't even ask for support.

I celebrated at a bar in town that night, and that's when I met Wendy. She was drinking by herself so I offered to buy her something and she accepted. We got to talking, and it turned out she had just dumped her boyfriend who she caught with another girl. We were both a bit gun-shy and took it slow and easy, but after a few months of dating, we found ourselves falling for each other and one night she cornered me.

"Do you like to eat pussy?" she whispered in my ear as we were dancing. At first, I thought that maybe she was just drunk.

"As a matter of fact, I do," I told her back.

"Then take me home and show me," she said. I looked at her for a moment, then she handed me her panties. "Now, Marine," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, escorting her to my truck. She got in and started unbuttoning her blouse. By the time I got in the truck, she had taken her blouse and bra off and was rubbing her breasts, pulling on her nipples. She smiled and spread her legs to show me her wet pussy. I wasted no time getting her home.

We made mad passionate love for hours. When we were finished, she got up on one elbow and looked me in the eye.

"You know, I'm strictly a one-man woman," she said. "And I won't tolerate cheating."

"I'm strictly a one-woman man," I told her. "And I just divorced a woman who cheated on me." She smiled and wrapped her arms around me.

"Good," she said, kissing me deeply. That night, I proposed and she accepted. We were married at the base chapel a few months later and the rest is history.

...

"So, Joe," I asked. "Did you ever see your ex-wife after that?" He looked at me and took a sip from his beer.

"As a matter of fact, I did," he said. "Her father retired from the Corps about 10 years later and was opening up a gun shop. He invited Wendy and I to come out and celebrate with him and his family, so we did. I was stationed at Camp Pendleton so it wasn't too far for us to drive out. By then, we had three kids, so we all hopped in the SUV and drove over." He took another sip of beer.

"She was there by herself. Turns out she caught John cheating on her with another woman," he said. "She looked horrible. I reckon she must've put on about 100 pounds since the last time I saw her. She saw us together and about stroked out. I introduced her to Wendy and the kids, and I thought she was going to start crying. Then I leaned over and asked, 'Did John ever get all that crap cleaned out of his car?'" He smiled and took a sip from his beer.

"I thought she was going to freak the fuck out," he said. "'Were you the one who did that?' she asked. I told her 'I'm not saying anything' and walked away."

"Did she ever apologize to you or explain why she did it?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Nope," he said. "She never apologized and I really didn't want to hear her bullshit excuse. Besides, what was done was done and no words from her would ever change that."

He handed me a photo of him and Wendy with their children.

"One good thing came out of all that, though," he said.

"What's that?" I asked.

"If Marcy hadn't cheated on me, I never would have met Wendy, and those three beautiful children would never have been born," he said.

"That sounds like four good things to me," I said. He thought for a moment, smiled and touched my beer bottle with his.

"Four good things it is," he said. "And let's not forget six beautiful grandchildren. And counting."