Chapter 5: John & Argie Franck

"There ain't no pussy alive that will not twitch when they is properly stoked."
~ Diamondmouth

What the hell?" He blurted out on seeing Argie curled into a ball on the floor. Had she had a heart attack?

Argie!" he called out.

'He's home! The bastard's home, now where's that fuckin' knife?" She wondered and then found it under her hip. Rising to her knees, Argie brandished the long-bladed knife at him, causing Franck to take a backward step.

"What the hell?" He stammered, confused by the angry woman before him.

"You son of a bitch!"

"What? What'd I do?"

"You know perfectly well!"

"No, I don't! What the hell's going on?"

"I heard the tape you fuck! I listened to the sex tape and don't deny it, I know your voice!"

"Jesus!" He gasped and thought furiously.

His instincts told him to go with the truth.

"If... if you just put the knife down, I'll try to tell you about the tapes."

"Tapes? You mean there's more than one?"

"Err, yeah, more than one," he said lamely.

Argie threatened him with the knife once again and John took two steps back, keeping maximum distance from her.

"Will you listen, for Christ's sake?" He pleaded.

"I'm listening, you no-good bastard!" Argie huffed. She was finding it difficult to breathe and decided to stab him before she lost consciousness.

John began to talk - stammering at first, then getting to the actual truth of the matter.

"I... I'm a sex addict. You should know that up front."

The shock on Argie's face was apparent and he saw it as he continued.

"The tapes... my shrink, Dr. Gladstone, umm, thought that putting my... "

"Whores and sluts!" Argie finished for him.

"No, no! It wasn't like that... not always..."

"BASTARD!" She screamed and waved the knife recklessly, almost cutting her own arm.

"Be careful with that thing!" He shouted.

"Don't yell at me, you... you bastard!'

"Gladstone told me to put them down on tape. The idea being that listening to myself in the doctor's office might help me see the way to admitting that I'm sexually addicted."

"You're a sex addict?" She huffed, but began to calm down.

"Would you like to comer to my next appointment? She'll be happy to see you. She's broached the possibility to me, but I..."

"A woman! Your shrink is a woman?"

"Yeah..."

Argie fought to compose herself. If John was truly ill she wanted to help him. But if this was some bullshit story he'd concocted to get her to put the knife down, she would cut his dick and balls off like that New Jersey woman did a few years back.

"Let me call her. You talk to her... " he finished weakly, not knowing which direction to take with her.

"Call!" Argie said.

"She may not be available," he added and looked miserable.

Argie felt a twinge of pity for him; then summoned up all the righteousness she could muster for her plight. Married to a sex addict -- my God, what would her friends think?

'My friends, how many of them has he screwed?"

"Do I know any of these... women?" she asked, hating herself for asking, yet feeling a great need to know the truth.

John was dialing Dr. Gladstone's office and the receptionist answered just as his wife asked the volatile question. He held up a hand as if to ward Argie off, then pointed to the phone.

Argie crossed her arms and although fuming, remained quiet, preferring to speak to his so-called therapist.

"John Franck, calling," he said, "I have an emergency..."

"Damn right you've got an emergency," Argie muttered, not caring if the person on the other end heard her.

"Well tell her it's critical..." he said into the phone. Looking at Argie, he shrugged his shoulders and mouthed, "She's with a patient."

"As soon as possible... yes, she has my number... thanks... goodbye."

"Why don't we listen to the other tape while we wait?" Argie said sarcastically.

"I don't think that will help matters any," he said and his shoulders sagged. He couldn't believe how tired he had become in the past few minutes. 'Stress, ' he told himself.

"The tapes, Johnny-boy, play the God damn tapes!"

All right! All right!" he shouted, "I'll play the damn thing!"

"Heard from 'Vinnie" lately?" Argie asked with scathing bluntness.

"Huh, what?" he asked, the blood rushing through his brain at a dizzying speed. He felt his knees buckle, but caught himself and prevented himself from falling.

"You know, 'Vinnie, ' you used to suck his cock, faggot!"

"You're not being fair!" he groaned, his voice cracking with desperation. "I was only a kid!"

"You were fifteen and taking it up the ass! That makes you a fag in my book!" Argie screamed at him as the phone rang.

John leaped to answer it. He would have welcomed anyone at the moment to relieve him of the tremendous burden of facing his irate wife.

"Oh, Dr. Gladstone... Thank you, thank you for calling back so quickly. I... we have a big problem, you see my wife heard the tape..."

"Yes, the first tape and I need for you..."

"Yes... yes... right." John extended the phone to his wife, "Dr. Gladstone..." he managed to croak.

"Hello," Argie said, as coolly as possible.

"Mrs. Franck," Dr. Gladstone said rapidly, "Having heard the tapes... well... I know... it doesn't put your husband in the best possible light."

"That's for sure..." Argie responded coldly.

"But rest assured he has a very serious problem. I cannot discuss it with you... at least not over the phone. I would think John would want you to be aware of the extent of the problem he's facing. If he agrees I can see the two of you, um, one second, let me check my appointments."

Approximately thirty seconds elapsed before Doctor Gladstone spoke again. My calendar is filled for today, but as this is very serious, I can see the two of you this evening... say seven?"

"Seven's good, Doctor. We'll both be there... and Doctor?"

"Yes, Mrs. Franck?"

"I won't tolerate any bullshit. He's been lying his rotten ass off for years, I've about had it with him."

Dr. Gladstone's eyebrow arched at Argie's use of the word "about." That augured well for Franck in that Argie had not quite given up on him. Gladstone followed with: "I hope that in learning the full extent of his problem you'll be more understanding."

Argie hung up without saying goodbye. John knew better than to criticize her behavior.

"What's she look like?" Argie asked as they parked their car in Doctor Gladstone's parking lot.

"You'll see," he replied morosely, knowing her temper would flare on viewing the beauty of his therapist.

"I asked you a simple question, asshole -- what's she look like?" Argie snapped at him, clearly in a foul mood as they approached the Doctor's office.

"She's... a good-looking woman, about 35 or 40. But," he hastened to add, "she's all business."

"Wouldn't fuck you, huh?" Argie spat out at him.

If there had been a hole handy, he would have crawled into it. Instead, he knocked on the doctor's office and heard her call out for them to enter.

Doctor Gladstone had changed to a conservative business suit, dark blue with thin pin-stripes. A white blouse completed her outfit and she had resorted to using the barest amount of makeup possible. She was well aware that Mrs. Franck would consider her a rival to be reckoned with and wanted to dissuade her of the idea as soon as possible.

"Hello, John," Gladstone said, but make no attempt to rise in greeting. Argie pushed past her husband as if to confront the doctor.

Doctor Gladstone rose up at that point and came forward, hand extended in greeting.

"I'm terribly sorry to meet you under these circumstances. I warned John it might happen, and suggested that he discuss his problem with you. But obviously he didn't take my advice."

John bristled at this, for the doctor had never said as much. Sure there had been suggestions of his possibly joining Sex Addicts Anonymous; but he hadn't. Now the idea sounded great and he thought he'd bring it up at the earliest opportunity.

"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Franck?"

"You too, John. Now before we go any further, do I have your permission to reveal your 'secrets' to Mrs. Franck, John?"