Thanks to the Knee Doctor for editing assistance.
It was a usual weekday supper. I didn't have much of an appetite but my two sons were tearing into the macaroni and cheese. Jason, 15, and Josh, 14, never failed to clean their plates. They were both active in sports and typical teenage activities. At the far end of the table, my wife Carla was overseeing the family meal, making sure that everyone had enough of whatever they wanted. It was like a picture that Norman Rockwell would have loved to paint. The boys finished up quickly and headed out for some street hockey, before it got too dark. I was nursing the last of my iced tea trying to get up the nerve to confront my wife. She was standing at the sink washing dishes as I rose from my chair.
"The next time you go to meet your lover, don't wear that red dress. You looked like a twenty dollar hooker going into that motel room."
She never turned around and as I walked out the door, I could hear the crash of a china plate hitting the floor.
I spent the next two hours mowing the grass. It finally got too dark to see any more and I had to quit. I didn't want to go into the house. I did not want to face her. I took more time than usual in cleaning the mower. It was a half of a quart low on oil, so I took care of that. When I went to drop the empty oil container in the trash, I noticed a brown paper bag tightly wadded up and forced into the bottom of the can. Inside were the red dress and a set of red underwear. The panties were stained but I didn't have any reason to save them. I already knew who did the dirty work.
Carla was in bed with the door closed. That was fine, because I didn't want to face her. The whole day started off wrong. I had the feeling Carla was cheating for several months. Since I didn't want it to be so, I tried to ignore it, hoping it would go away. It didn't go away. It just got worse. My wife is a fourth grade school teacher. She usually leaves for school when the boys do. This morning she had a doctor's appointment and wanted to get her eyes examined, so she took a sick day. I leave about the same time. I am a house painter. For the last few weeks I had been working on an apartment complex in Harrisburg, about an hour drive from home. When Carla announced her sick day, I decided to quietly do the same.
I have been painting houses for almost twenty years. I like the work and I am good at it. I was doing it when we got married, and it paid Carla's way through college. I always thought my wife was fine with my choice of work, but for the last few years I noticed her making comments that indicated that this wasn't so. When she introduced me to her friends she never mentioned what I did for a living, in fact, she seemed to go out of her way to avoid it. If someone forced the issue, it came out, but I could tell she wasn't thrilled. It was Okay when I was paying for her college and getting us a home, to raise the boys, but now I felt like I was a liability for her. I hated going to social functions.
Carla was a good teacher, she made more money than I did, and had better benefits. Her union medical benefits covered the entire family. She also had a nice pension building up. All I would have was social security. She kept herself in good shape. Even though she was only five feet one, she was impressive to look at. I guess it was her platinum hair that she wore very short.
I hung around down the street from the house waiting for her to leave. When she came out she had on the pretty little red dress. She looked good in that dress, and I always told her so. It was, however, an odd choice for going to the doctor's.
The doctor did not have an office at the Deska Motel. Carla parked the car and walked right up to room 117, knocked twice and walked in. That was all I needed to see, to confirm my suspicions. The desk clerk was young, and he was more than happy to give me the registration card, in exchange for a hundred dollar bill. I recognized the name, but couldn't put a face to it. Jefferson Gibbons was at a few of the functions Carla dragged me to. He had something to do with the school board or the school district. I couldn't remember which. Jefferson drove a BMW and he left it unlocked. It took me just a minute to get his registration out of the glove box. The car was registered to Jefferson and Darlene Gibbons. They lived at 321 David Drive in Lancaster. That rang a bell. I remembered he was on the Lancaster County School Board. It also appears that he was married.
That was pretty much the highlight of my day. I wandered around for several hours before heading home. Carla was there when I arrived and was as perky as ever. She wasn't wearing the red dress any more.
I didn't sleep at home that night. I slept in the truck behind the warehouse of the company I sub-contracted for. I was still sweaty from the late mowing but I didn't care. I needed coffee badly, and some eggs and toast went well with it. I tried to kill time before heading home. I wanted to make sure Carla was gone.
There wasn't much in the house that I was attached to. I grabbed all of my clothes and stuffed them in trash bags. I got a few papers that I felt I should have, my birth certificate, passport and other stuff like that. I made one quick phone call.
"This is Bob Terrell. We met at a few school functions over the past few years."
"I can't say I remember. What is it that you want?"
"I just wanted to let you know that your husband, Jefferson, spent yesterday afternoon at the Deska Motel in Reading with my wife, Carla."
There was silence on the other end of the phone. I waited for a response, but none came.
"That's all I wanted to say Mrs. Gibbons. Sorry to have to bother you with this, but I couldn't let it pass. Good bye."
Ten minutes later I was on my way to Colorado to see my Uncle Jack. I didn't like leaving the boys, but they were pretty resilient, and Carla could provide better for them than I could. She made more money than I did and was a better parent, except for the infidelity part. I did not leave a note or anything. I am sure she would get the point when she saw that my clothes were gone.
The boys got out of school at 3 PM, so about ten after, I gave Jason a call. He had a cell phone that allowed incoming calls but could only call a few preset numbers out. It seemed to work fine for us.
"Jason. Hi, this is dad. Are you on you way home?"
"Yah. What's up?"
"I just wanted to give you a heads up. I moved out of the house today. I am on my way to Colorado to stay with Uncle Jack for a while. I felt I should let you and Josh know what is going on."
"What the hell are you talking about? Why would you move out?"
"Jason, the easiest and nicest way for me to answer that would be to tell you to ask your mother. As far as I am concerned that would be a cop out on my part. Your mother decided she wanted to trade up. I think she was looking for someone with a better job or position. I am not sure. In any event it turned out that I was not good enough for her anymore. I'm going to stay away for a while so she can figure out what she wants to do. I'll call you every so often, when I can. If I remember correctly, Uncle Jack doesn't get cell phone signals."
"Come on Dad, can't you guys work it out here? Isn't there counseling or something?"
"Not for me son. Look, your mother has a good job and she won't have any trouble taking care of you guys. I'll try and call you sometime this weekend. Oh, and don't tell your mother where I am or that I called you. Take care of Josh, and try and stay cool. Bye."
I was just entering the great state of Illinois.
Uncle Jack lived just north of Raton Pass. It was more like New Mexico than Colorado. I don't know what he did for a living or where he got his money, but he didn't seem to have any problems. He had been married years ago, but caught his wife cheating and kicked her out. When I explained my problem he was sympathetic and understanding. I was invited to stay as long as I liked. He welcomed the company. Jack had a lot of land but it didn't look like it was good for much. It was too rough to farm and too sparse to ranch. In addition to the main house, there were several barns and corrals. He had a lot of horses that I found out later, were all being boarded. Folks would come on the weekends and ride, usually just in the summer. The rest of the year was less than pleasant.
Sunday afternoon, we drove into Trinidad for supper and some essentials I forgot to bring. I was able to get a signal for the phone so I called Jason.
"Son, I just wanted to let you know I got here Okay. How are things at your end?"
"Not good, Dad. I explained everything to Josh and he is really pissed at Mom. He is not talking to her. Mom won't tell us what happened. She claims she doesn't know why you left. I tried a couple times to get her to say something, but she just clams up. Josh and I are leaving her alone as much as we can."
"It sounds like you are handling it pretty well. I am sorry for the mess. Do the best you can. I can't get a signal at the ranch but Jack does have a regular phone. I'll try and call from there. Is there anything I do to help you guys?"
"We'll be Okay, Dad."
.... There is more of this story ...