Yakima Ch. 01-02

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An ugly surprise by the wife leads to a turbulent future.
6.9k words
4.61
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Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 08/03/2017
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coaster2
coaster2
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Author's Notes: There is no such position as "Works Manager" in Yakima. However, for the purposes of simplification, I've created it for this story.

I hope you enjoy it.

*****

Chapter 1 Recognition

"Some you win, some you lose, and some are rained out," I kidded my son Matt as we walked to my car in the parking lot. He'd just finished his Babe Ruth ball game, losing 7-3 after a crushing rally by the other team in the seventh inning. Matt had made an error in the outfield and had but a single hit to show for the game. Naturally, he was unhappy.

"Yeah, thanks, Dad," he grumbled, not meaning it. "If I'd have caught that ball, it might have been different. Maybe we'd have won,"

"And maybe the score would have been 6-3 for them. It only let in one run of the four they scored. You can't blame yourself for all the problems. Cheer up, Matt. It's only a game and you know you aren't going to win them all."

I was giving him the same pep talk my father used to give me when we lost. It wasn't any more effective on me then than it was on my son now. We walked slowly to our car and a post-game pit stop at the Dairy Freeze. It was a hot, sunny afternoon in July, and I was as ready for an ice cream as anyone.

Our car was parked facing the road, a well-traveled artery on the north edge of Yakima. I took the reflecting sun screen from the inside of the windshield and folded it, throwing it into the back seat along with my straw hat. Even with the screen, it was still well over a hundred degrees in the car and it was going to be a couple of minutes before the air conditioner kicked in with any effect.

I waited for an opening, then backed my aging Malibu into the exit lane and began moving toward the entrance to the road. I sat there looking for a break in the traffic before venturing out onto West Tieton Dr. When I pulled out to turn right, eastbound, I caught a glimpse of a car speeding toward me in the curb lane. I stabbed the brakes to avoid a collision and the fancy silver car flashed by me, missing my front end by little more than a foot. In the front passenger window I saw the head of a woman. It was just a glimpse, but the shiny black hair registered. I didn't have time to digest what I saw; the car was long gone by then.

"Idiot," I muttered.

Checking once again, I ventured out onto the street, turning right again at the stoplight and headed toward our interim destination.

"Who do you play next?" I asked Matt.

"The Wildcats. They suck. We should beat them easy."

"Don't get overconfident," I warned. "Any team can have a good or a bad day, and upsets are common."

"Yeah ... that's what Coach says too."

The jumbo ice cream cone had his primary attention. I wondered about the wisdom of letting him have this size only an hour or so before dinner. On the other hand, he had an appetite that would frighten most people. Somehow, he burned off all those calories and remained trim and fit. His sister, who barely ate enough to keep a rabbit alive, could lose a few pounds, I thought. However, her mother kept saying they would come off as she matured. After all, she was only thirteen.

Matt was almost sixteen at the time. He tried out for his high school team as a freshman, but didn't make it. Babe Ruth was the automatic answer. He loved the game and loved to play, hating it whenever the coach replaced him, regardless of the reason. They'd lost today's game and Matt was down on himself for making an error. I tried to cheer him up, but he took his mistakes very seriously and vowed to make up for them. This particular day in this particular game, it didn't happen.

Like me, he was tall, lean, and sandy-haired. Blue-eyed like everyone in the family. Our hair coloring was the opposite of his mother Clarissa and his sister Jessica. They featured heads of coal-black hair, making their blue eyes stand out even more. It was the feature that first attracted me to Clarissa, or "Reese," when I learned her nickname.

We have been married for over seventeen years. Seventeen good years. My name is Graham Rideout and I work for the City of Yakima. I have a good job that affords us a nice home in a safe, middle-class neighborhood. While I nurse my eight-year-old Chev, Clarissa was driving a nearly-new Ford Explorer. She was adamant that the bigger SUV was safer and made more sense for her as she made her rounds, shopping, driving the kids to and from school, and assorted other needs. The dealer's sales manager, Gordon Winters, assured me that this was an excellent buy. Since she put so few miles on the vehicle, I didn't argue about the fuel mileage compared to my car.

We have a two car detached garage that I had purchased as a kit. With the help of a couple of our neighbors, we assembled it without difficulty and it provided shelter for both vehicles from the elements, particularly the sun. The community spirit was something I really like about where we lived. We have good neighbors, and it is a pleasure to help them out when I can. They, in turn, happily reciprocate.

As we trudged into the house, we were greeted by Reese's voice commanding that we shower and change clothes before anything else. It was no surprise and Matt headed for the main bathroom while I made toward our bedroom. There was plenty of hot water for both of us, so I didn't hesitate to turn on the ensuite shower. I noticed that it had been used recently as I set about removing almost two hours of sweat and dust. The ball park was a hard-scrabble affair with more dirt than grass. I was hankering for a cold beer and slipped on a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and flip-flops when I finished my shower.

"Hi, how was your afternoon?" I asked as I moved to the fridge.

"Pretty quiet," she answered nonchalantly. "I sat on the back porch until the sun came around and it got too hot."

"Where's Jess?"

"Over at Mindy's, as usual."

I popped the cap on my bottle of beer and stepped outside to see what the porch was like. We had invested in a large awning that was supposed to keep the sun off, but it was only partially effective. I agreed with Reese, it was too hot and would be for another two hours at this time of year. I could hear the hum of our air conditioner and, in all likelihood, it would remain on almost constantly in this heat. I tried to remember what it was like without that wonderful machine, but I guess I suppressed the memories of those long, hot nights of little sleep and less comfort.

"We doing anything tonight?" There was usually something going on in the neighborhood on a Saturday night.

"The Carstairs invited us to drop over after eight o'clock. Their porch faces east and doesn't get as hot as ours."

"Should we take something?"

"Some cold beer would probably be welcome," Reese said.

"I'll go down to the mini-mart and pick up a dozen," I volunteered, grabbing my wallet and keys.

"You might as well get a couple of snacks. They won't go to waste," she suggested.

"Sure. Be right back."

As I backed out of the garage, I noticed that the Explorer's tailpipe seemed to be down below its normal location. I stopped and got out of the car and moved to the back of the SUV. I touched the pipe and found I could easily move it. It looked like the bracket had broken and that needed to be checked out soon before the tailpipe broke as well. I walked back into the house and found my wife still in the kitchen.

"Reese, your exhaust pipe bracket is broken. You need to get that fixed soon before the whole tailpipe comes loose."

"Can't you fix it?" she asked.

"I could, but I don't want to. It's a job for the dealer. Besides, that should still be part of the warranty."

"Oh ... okay, I'll phone Kimble Motors on Monday morning and see if I can get an early appointment."

~*~

"Can we switch cars tomorrow?" Reese asked on Sunday evening. "You can drop the Ford off at Kimble and get a loaner for the day. They said it would only take an hour or so to fix the tailpipe."

"If it's only an hour, I can walk to work and pick it up at lunch hour. The exercise won't hurt me," I smiled.

That settled the matter, and the next morning I took the Explorer and drove to Kimble Ford. It was only five blocks from my office, and it was going to be another typical sunny summer day. I pulled into the service area and went in to do the paperwork. Ten minutes later, I surrendered the keys and walked out, having been assured it would be ready by noon.

As I walked by the showroom and the row of new cars sitting out front, I saw a car that looked somehow familiar. It was a Lincoln. One of the new, sharp-edged designs that I didn't particularly like. It was silver and I wondered where I might have seen it, but then thought no more about it. It certainly didn't look like something we would find in our neighborhood.

The Explorer was ready by noon as promised. It had been washed (which it didn't need) and vacuumed (which it did need). As expected, I was handed an invoice detailing the work with a zero balance, indicating it was warranty work. I thanked the service manager and headed for where Reese's SUV was parked. When I walked by the location where the Lincoln had been parked, I noticed it was gone. I also noticed lettering on the curb where it was parked: Sales Manager. I guess Gordon Winters was doing well to rate a Lincoln.

It wasn't until I got back to my office that I wondered how Reese got an appointment that quickly at Kimble on Monday morning. Reese must have called right after I let her know about the tailpipe. I couldn't complain. That was great service, considering it was warranty work. I forgot about it as I immersed myself in catching up on the accumulation of stuff that always appeared on Mondays.

I was home at my usual time, just after five. Reese was in the kitchen and gave me a "Hi" without turning away from whatever she was doing at the stove. I gave her a similar reply and headed for the bedroom to change into shorts and a t-shirt. I returned to the kitchen.

"Your Explorer is fixed. No charge," I announced.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, still concentrating on her food preparation.

"I might need you to run an errand for me this weekend," she announced.

"Oh, what kind of errand?"

"I found an antique rocking chair I really like and I bought it. It's in Ellensburg. I wonder if you wouldn't mind driving up and getting it for me. You can take the Explorer. There should be enough room for it."

"Are they open on a Saturday?" I asked.

"Yes ... it's probably their busiest day along with Sunday."

"I don't remember you telling me you bought a rocker?" I said, curious now.

"I'm sure I did. You probably weren't listening ... as usual," she said, shaking her head in that typical female sign of annoyance.

I sighed. It was pointless to argue. "Okay, just get me the address and I'll drive up Saturday morning. Matt has a baseball game in the afternoon. Is the chair paid for?"

"Yes, I paid for it on-line when I bought it."

"Did you buy it sight-unseen?"

"Yes, but the site had very good pictures and it's guaranteed to be as represented."

"Is there a reason you're not coming with me?" I asked, now more curious.

"I've got things to do here. Here's the address," she said, handing me a slip of paper.

"This isn't Ellensburg. It's Kittitas. Are you sure this is right?"

"Of course I'm sure," she snapped, then blushed and turned away. That little display of temper was something new, something that had recently been noticeable.

"Okay, don't get all bent out of shape, I'll handle it," I said, turning away and heading for the family room. I had just signed on for a two hour trip, there and back, counting dealing with the antique store. I intended to inspect her purchase very carefully. I was wondering how she found this antique, but I guessed she found it the usual way, she Googled it.

Chapter 2 The Hard Truth

I left the house a little after ten on Saturday morning. The Explorer had just over a quarter tank of gas, so I stopped at our local service station and filled it, shuddering when I saw the total. Kittitas was at least forty-five minutes from our house and luckily, the road was almost deserted. I arrived at the antique store and went inside to see how I would go about getting the rocking chair.

"Yeah, I've got it set aside over here," the manager said as he led me to the front of the store. It was busy and as I looked around, I noticed he had a good sized inventory for sale.

I looked at Reese's purchase very carefully and saw that it was in good condition with only the usual signs of wear. It was a solid and heavy duty chair, fairly big as rockers go. It took a little fiddling and fussing to get it into the back of the Explorer, but with the manager's help, we got it done.

"Your wife didn't take long to make a decision," the man said. "She walked in, looked it over and bought it. I don't think she was in the store more than fifteen minutes."

"She was here? Why didn't she take the rocker with her?" I asked, now starting to get an uneasy feeling."

"Oh, the fellow she was with couldn't get it into his car. She said you'd be along to pick it up."

"This guy she was with, what was he driving?"

"Uhhm ... don't think I saw it ... don't know," he said thoughtfully.

I nodded, thanked him for his help and turned the Ford back out toward I-90 and the junction to Yakima. I don't remember most of the trip home. I was beginning to piece things together and I didn't like what the puzzle was turning out to be. The question was, what would Reese's explanation be? On the surface of it, I suspected she had gone to Kittitas with someone, bought a rocking chair on a whim, and then sent me there to pick it up.

And there was the story about finding and paying for it online. She did neither. I could feel anger building as I drove and knew I was going to want some answers when I got home. That didn't happen.

"Where's your mother?" I asked Matt when I got home.

He shrugged. "Don't know. Gone somewhere. Said she'd be back in a while."

"When did she leave?" I asked, probably in a more demanding tone than I should have.

Matt looked at me strangely before answering. "Just after you did."

"Did she take my car?" I wondered.

"Nope. Somebody picked her up."

"Do you know who?"

He shook his head. "Must be some rich guy. He was driving a new Lincoln."

Fuck! What the hell was going on? Now I was really starting to steam.

"Can you give me a hand with this rocker your mother bought?"

"Sure."

In no time at all we had the rocker in the house, sitting in the living room, waiting for instructions to find out where Reese expected it to go.

"What time is your ballgame?"

"They called this morning. They've delayed it until four o'clock because of the heat."

"Does your mother know?"

"Nope. She was gone when they called."

I picked up the phone and called Reese's cell. It rang twice before going to voice mail.

"Reese, we need to talk. Call me on my cell if I'm not at home. It's important."

"Something wrong, Dad?"

I nodded. "Yeah ... I think so. You had lunch yet?"

"Nope."

"Where's Jess?"

"The usual, at Mindy's."

I could see Matt was a little uncertain now that I'd revealed something wasn't as it should be.

"Come on, let's go to Clyde's and get something to eat." I was trying to control my words, my stomach, and my reaction to what I thought might be happening. Clyde's was a small deli with a few tables and good, home-made food.

"Sure, sounds good," Matt agreed immediately.

I didn't have any appetite, but I forced myself to have a sandwich and a glass of milk. Matt, as usual, had twice the amount any normal human could consume. I could see he was wary, however, wondering just what was wrong and when he was going to find out.

"What's going on, Dad?"

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. "I'll have to wait to talk to your mother to find out."

"She's been acting different lately," Matt offered.

"How?"

"I don't know, exactly. She's jumpy and not like she usually is. You know, in charge like."

"Anything else?" I asked, now curious.

"Sometimes if she's on the phone when I'm around, she'll hang up without saying anything. You know ... like goodbye or whatever."

I was getting that sinking feeling once more. Her behavior sounded suspicious and, combined with the other odd things that were happening, it added up to a bad situation. Was I jumping to conclusions without evidence? It was hard to imagine she would be having an affair, but bits and pieces of information seemed to be pointed that way. I hoped I was wrong, but only a forceful conversation with Reese would likely tell me.

We had to leave for the ball park before three-thirty and Reese still hadn't returned to the house. I didn't know whether to be angry or worried, or both. I called Mindy's parents and let them know that no one would be home and could Jess still stay there until someone called. I got an immediate 'okay' and was relieved of that worry.

I didn't pay much attention to the ballgame that afternoon. Matt had a very good game, with three hits and errorless fielding. His team won 8-2 in a laugher, just as he had predicted. My thoughts were almost constantly on Reese and what she might be up to. It was eating at me and I couldn't put off talking to her even if the children were home at the time. I'm not that good an actor and I needed to get my concerns out no matter what.

When we arrived home, Reese was in the kitchen and had made a cold supper for us. I didn't say anything when we walked in and neither did she. Matt and I both went upstairs to shower before coming back down. When I walked into the kitchen, she looked at me carefully, but said nothing. I took a beer from the fridge and walked out onto the back deck. Try as I might, I had no idea how to start the conversation. Reese took that problem out of my hands. She followed me onto the deck.

"Thanks for getting the rocker," she said, watching me carefully.

I nodded. "You didn't tell me you bought it in person and paid for it at the store. You didn't tell me that someone else had driven you up there, but couldn't fit the chair into his car. In fact, you told me something entirely different. Why? What's going on, Reese?"

"I'm sorry, Graham. I really am. I was hoping you wouldn't find out until I was ready to tell you."

"Tell me what, Reese? That you've been cheating on me? What was it you weren't ready to tell me?" I said in my coldest voice.

"You've probably guessed most of it. I've found someone else. I'm filing for divorce and when it's through, I'll be marrying him."

"Who?"

"Gordon Winters," she said simply.

"Gordon Winters, all-star sleazy car salesman. I thought you were moving up in the world, Reese. Surely you can do better than him," I sneered.

"Gordon is not sleazy and he's in line to take over one of Kimble's dealerships as general manager. He's on his way to the top," she snapped triumphantly.

"Oh, he's a paragon of the community, all right. He breaks up a near eighteen year marriage without the slightest worry about his reputation. And what about your reputation, Reese? Or don't you care."

"Don't do this, Graham. Don't make this dirty. I fell in love with him. I'm sorry if that hurts you, but that's what happened. I didn't set out to get involved, it just happened."

"You just happened to fall into bed with a man other than your husband and forget all about your marriage vows," I snarled.

"He ... he was ... irresistible. I couldn't help myself. I knew it would hurt you, but I couldn't help myself. I fell in love and that's all there is to it," she said, lamely trying to excuse her behavior.

"Well, that's not all there is to it. Have you thought about the children? What do you plan to tell them? What do you plan to tell your parents? How are you going to make it sound anything less than betrayal and deceit? I doubt they will be proud of you."

coaster2
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