Like to cook? You become a chef. Have an interest in education? Most likely end up a teacher. Me? I wanted to fly, so I became a pilot. Over the years I finagled myself a pilot license with several ratings, then later a spot with an Air National Guard outfit. Unfortunately none of the big airlines was hiring when my time was up, so I had been with a little regional carrier for about two years now.
Throughout my trials and tribulations the only constant in life was Amy my wife. My lovely Amy came from a broken household of drunken parents. Amy was probably the only kid in school poorer than me. Amy was a gangly freckled faced girl with a nose too big for her face and jug ears that she tried to cover with her long light brown hair. We met in 3rd grade and were never apart after that. It was us two kids from the wrong side of the tracks against everyone else. I recall the day in junior high I told Amy I was going to be a pilot and fly.
Amy never batted an eye "Kevin if you are gonna fly planes, you gotta promise to take me with you!"
And I did, first chance I got we were married. I never grew past 5 foot 6, but Amy shot up to almost 6 foot tall. She was a slender girl, with almost no hips. Even Amy's rack barely qualified as an A cup. She still had her freckles, never growing into her nose or ears, however to me Amy was the most beautiful bride in the world. That never changed after we got hitched at the courthouse.
Amy followed me from bases in Asia to the Pacific and everywhere in between. Amy made a home no matter if it was freezing in Greenland or sweating in Panama. Amy was a true bargain shopper; she could stretch my meager pay -horse trading, making deals on everything from food to furniture. Amy could haggle with anyone.
The only weakness Amy had was for Postcards. My God that woman loved Postcards! No matter where we went Amy had to have a Postcard of that place. In all our moves around the globe Amy carted those boxes of postcards from one end of the earth to the other.
"Kevin" Amy would say when I razzed her about the postcards "I know where I came from, I want to know where I have been. Because I not going to stay anyplace until we make it to the top!"
We used a lot of savings plus my meager employment and bought a 'fix-r-upper" home. It was a lovely big old house with a huge yard, garage, just full of charm and character. Now Regional Airline pilots make less than a manager at McDonalds, my whopping starting pay was just over $25K. I did not care, I had Amy and I got to fly almost every day-what in life could be better?
Amy took a job with a Real Estate Developer to help make ends meet. My life was Amy, flying, fixing up the house and working on a Ford F250 truck I bought for cheap. Amy at first took the bus to work, but soon had a new Camry. Amy said she needed reliable transportation with me being gone so often. Our sex life was great and we christened every space in the house several times, plus the apartment room above the garage, even the back yard on a few warm starry nights. Amy still constantly sent out feelers to every airline from American to Federal Express, but with rising fuel prices and security scares no one was hiring. I was willing to be patient, life was good.
On morning I was awaiting a ride to work with Jose our Chief mechanic. Jose had been a big help with my truck. We had replaced or rebuilt every part from the rear end to the injectors. Jose had escaped Cuba over two decades earlier on a leaky homemade raft with his girlfriend –now wife Maria, at the age of 17. A stint in the service had earned him a trade as an aircraft mechanic. He had a peck of kids and was the proudest papa you ever saw. Today we were riding with his youngest son Angelo a high school freshman.
"Good morning Jose, and young Mister Angelo." I said after buckling up my seat belt. "Jose can we stop by King 1 Developers. I need to drop off this cell phone." I held up my wife's cell phone. Amy left it on the kitchen table this morning. I was surprised she forgot it. Amy was always talking, or messaging on that little pink box, she was never without it.
Angelo like any teenager had earbuds in listening to an MP3 player. Angelo saw the phone in my hand, he pulled out his headphones. "Hey Mr. Kevin that is a neat cell. Can I have a look at it?"
"Knock yourself out Angelo." I said tossing the phone into the back seat at him.
Juan was fussing with the radio when his son Angelo blurted out. "Oh Ho HO someone is going to get lucky today!"
"What do you mean Angelo?" I said twisting around to face him in the back seat.
"Look at this text Mr. Kevin." Angelo said turning Amy's screen toward me.
"ProT L 2Day? ;-O " I read off the screen "What the heck does that mean?"
Angelo suppressed a laugh. "PROTEIN LUNCH TODAY-with the wink and open mouth. The girl is asking this dude if he wants a blow job during lunch."
The color when out of my face.
"Now see the next one." Angelo scrolled down "LHSX ky 4 ur 6Y ass. That means LETS HAVE SEX, KY FOR YOUR SEXY ASS. The Dude wants to butt fuck her."
I felt my breakfast coming up.
Angelo continued translating for me. "Next she then texted K O4U VBS TD2M? That is short for- OK ONLY FOR YOU, VERY BIG SMILE & TALK DIRTY TO ME. Wow she's into anal, and hot talk, this is one freaky chick."
To repress my gag reflex I smiled, while Angelo kept reading. "CID A3. Mr. Kevin that's text for CONSIDER IT DONE, ANYPLACE ANYTIME ANYWHERE. Well I guess the dude is down with it"
Juan gave up on the radio saying. "Damn Kids with these cell phones. Maria my wife and I went to all the trouble to learn, and teach them good English. Now all these children talk in frigging code." Juan glanced over at me. "Captain you OK? You are white as a ghost." Jose called all the pilots Captain.
"No Jose, I suddenly feel real sick. Would you mind taking me back home." I tried to sound normal. "Angelo can you tell me who sent these texts, maybe forward them to me?"
"No Problem Mr. Kevin." Angelo pressed a series of buttons on the cell. "They are on the way to you. The sender dude is a Troy 1 KBoss."
Troy Kingston was Amy's boss-head of King 1 Developers. How F'n cliché a secretary screwing her boss, with me the clueless cuckold husband. Dear God it was following a bad script.
"Don't worry Captain." Jose said turning the car around. "I get one of the other guys to take over your run today. You want I take you to the Doctor?"
"No thank you Jose." I tried to keep from hurling in his car. "I just really need to get home, to take care of this."
The ride home seemed to take forever. Angelo kept reading out loud the texts which was making me sicker by the word.
"Mr. Kevin this babe is wild. Listen to this text from last month. D46 2d n 2mor dm al whs ltime." Angelo translated. "DOWN FOR SEX TODAY AND TOMMORROW, DO ME ALL HOLES LONGTIME."
"Angelo!" Jose warned his son. "I will not have talk like that in my car. Give that phone back to the Captain."
"OK." Angelo sighed clicking my wife's cell phone closed. Angelo then handed Amy's phone back to me. "Mr. Kevin who is the Babe? Any chance you could hook me up?"
I put Amy's phone back in my pocket. "Sorry Angelo, I'm not sure who she is, but she is not going to be around here much longer."
I barely made it inside to the entrance downstairs bathroom before I lost all of my morning meal. I splashed cold water on my face, sitting down on the bathroom floor, my back against the tile wall. This bathroom was the first place Amy and I had redone. We had known little about tile work, even less about plumbing, but together we had gotten it done. Our method of celebration after the bathroom remodel completion left a smile on my face for two days.
"Could Amy be cheating?" I thought. Troy Kingston was over fifty-almost two decades older then both Amy and I. He was the kind of guy you think of when you thought of a real estate developer. Twice married, six foot, with a trim build, constant tan, dyed hair with added plugs to fill in the bald spots. A big booming voice, always a handshake, or joke accompanied by a hearty back slap.
"Maybe that was it -just a joke." I hoped feverishly. "It's all a crude flirting joke Amy and Troy were playing." I knew Troy had two kinds of jokes-those he told when in mixed company, and those crude ones Troy told when only men and no minorities around. That had to be it-otherwise why else would Amy be texting and using terms like an empty headed seventeen year old? I mean Amy had all those texts about anal –when I knew from personal experience that was a NO GO zone. Get real -how would a middle age man like Troy even know all these teen text terms?" I grabbed onto this hope like a drowning man holding onto a life jacket.
It made me feel better, my breathing was returning to normal. I would stop by Amy's office on the pretense to take Amy out to her favorite diner and find out what the hell was up. Pushing myself off the floor I saw it was almost 11:30 AM. "How long had I been sitting here?" Feeling like a fool, I hopped into my truck heading off to Amy's office.
As I walked into the offices of King 1 Developers I thought if it was a joke the good chuckle Amy and I would have about this. I would give Troy her boss a ration of shit-but knew he would laugh it off.
I asked the receptionist to call Amy to the front. The Receptionist made a few calls then told me Amy was not available. I told the receptionist I had something to return to Amy. She gave me Amy's cell phone number.
"I got that already." I laughed, holding up Amy's phone. "Just need to get it back to her."
.... There is more of this story ...