When you're an over-sexed eighteen year old kid with raging hormones and the prettiest girlfriend in town you don't pass up an opportunity to get into her pants; even if you don't know what you're doing.
The exhilaration of feeling like a MAN after you've taken her cherry is like King Kong beating his chest while hanging from the top of the Empire State Building with his woman worshiping at his feet.
Of course, when you're an over-sexed eighteen year old with raging hormones you don't realize how fragile that exhilaration can be until it is shattered by two little words ... I'm pregnant.
Yup, there's nothing like a dose of reality to deflate your over-sexed ego. Just yesterday you looked in the mirror and saw a virile, masculine young man ready to take on the world; today, in that same mirror, you see a scared little boy with more responsibilities than he can imagine, a job that pays little more than minimum wage, and a set of angry parents who are about to disown you.
Both Carolyn's folks and his own determined abortion was the only thing to do; the two fathers got together and decided they would share in the cost; of course no one asked the kids what they wanted to do.
"John," Carolyn cried softly, "I don't want to kill our baby."
"Then we won't," he responded, "We're legal age, they can't make you have an abortion; we'll get married."
"John, would you; would you really marry me?" she asked with the first smile of the night.
"Yes, of course; I'm not going to run away from my responsibilities," he told her.
She bowed her head and her face turned to sadness again. "But you don't love me; you're only doing it because of the baby."
John sighed and looked down in deep thought; after a few seconds he spoke. "Carolyn, you're the first real girlfriend I ever had. I'm not even sure I know what true love is, but I do feel something for you, something I've never felt for anyone else. I'm going to work hard to be a good husband and father. I want to do this, Carolyn; really. I'm sorry I don't have a ring for you and I'm afraid this is not very romantic, but Carolyn, this time I'm asking; will you marry me?"
"John, that was the most romantic thing I've ever heard anyone say, and the answer is yes; yes I will marry you."
John and Carolyn walked hand in hand into the living room where their parents had already determined their fate. "Everyone," John announced, "Carolyn is not having an abortion; I'm going to marry her and we're keeping the baby."
Well, all hell broke loose. Their moms and dads started yelling and threatening to throw them both out of the house ... and that's just what they did.
That's the way life started out for Carolyn and John. Hell, they'd only been dating for about five months so they really didn't even know one another that well, but true to his word, John and Carolyn were married three days later in front of the JP.
John worked at Paul Halley's Chevrolet dealership as the new and used car porter; basically he just cleaned and polished all the cars on the lot. Since he had been living at home, he had a little money saved up; enough to get a room in a flop house for him and his new bride, but that little bit of money wasn't going to last long so he got a second job working at night in a detail shop. This was where the dealership sent the used cars right after they were traded in. They were experts at making old used cars look and smell brand new again.
John worked hard; quickly he learned to use a high speed buffer to make the dull, weather-beaten finish of any vehicle shine so bright he could see himself; he learned all the tricks of the trade and soon became one of the shop's best detailers.
Carolyn tried getting work too, but she wanted to be honest with people and told them at the outset that she was pregnant and would need a maternity leave in about seven months. It was obviously the kiss of death as far as getting the job.
After she started to show, she gave up looking for work and concentrated on taking care of the finances. She scrimped and saved every penny she could. Life was hard but they were getting by ... just barely.
Mr. Halley, the owner of the dealership, was a pretty nice guy in addition to being an excellent business man. One day, during a courtesy call, Terry, John's boss from the detail shop, made the mistake of bragging about what a great job John was doing. Mr. Halley saw the opportunity to help out one of his employees and save some money at the same time.
He called John into his office. "John," he started after the pleasantries were out of the way, "how much do they pay you at the detail shop?"
"Nine dollars and hour," he replied.
"And how long does it take you to do a car?"
"Well that depends on how bad it is; I guess the average time would be about three hours."
"Ah huh; so they pay you approximately thirty dollars a car; sound about right?"
"Yeah, I never worked it out before but that would be about it," John responded not knowing where Mr. Halley was going with all his questions.
"Do you know how much they charge me?"
John shook his head no.
"Buck and a quarter a car," he reported. John had been around long enough to know that was dealership slang for a hundred and twenty five dollars. "Terry tells me you're one of his best detailers."
John was a little humbled by the praise. "So I was thinking ... I'd like to make you an offer; how about if you detailed cars just for me, and I paid you seven-five bucks per car. That's over twice what you're making now and it's a savings of fifty bucks a car for me."
"Oh wow, I'd love to but I don't have any place to work; I don't have the equipment I'd need either. It's a great offer, Mr. Halley, thanks but I can't do it; I don't have the money to get started."
"What would it take," he asked.
"Gee, I don't know, let's see; well the first thing I'd have to do is rent a shop of course; I'd need a high speed buffer with a bunch of different cutting and polishing pads, several gallons of water based rubbing compound, some different polishes and glazes; then there's several different cleaners for inside the car, carpet shampoo and things like that," he thought for a moment, "I guess that's about it. Sometimes they have to dye some carpeting but they usually buy that as they need it."
"How much would all that cost," asked Mr. Halley.
"Ah, I'm not sure, probably a few hundred dollars though; certainly a lot more than I have."
"Okay, here's my proposal; the cleanup area in the back, where you're working now isn't very big, I know that; but if I knocked down the wall between that and the storage area adjacent to it that would give you a lot more space; I figure you could get another four cars in there at least. That would give you plenty of room to work. In addition, I will front you whatever money you need to get started ... within reason of course."
John's brain was already spinning trying to determine how much he could make.
"Now," continued Mr. Halley, "I figure I'm already saving fifty bucks per car, you throw in another twenty until the start-up loan is paid for. In other words; let's say I give you seven hundred dollars to get started; you do each car for fifty bucks until the loan is paid off; that's only ten cars; after that you get seventy-five for every car you do."
"What about my other job, my porter job?"
"You keep that, I still need you there. You'd do this at night, just like you do now. I'll change the locks on the back door and give you the keys; it'll be your own shop, you can come and go as you like."
"Mr. Halley this sounds almost too good to be true, and I don't mean to sound unappreciative, but can I give you an answer tomorrow; I really don't want to do anything like this without discussing with Carolyn first," John told him.
Mr. Halley smiled, "Absolutely, take as long as you need, the offer stays on the table; just let me know."
That night Carolyn was almost as ecstatic as John. "Will he put all that in writing?" she asked.
"Ah, probably, but I trust him, Carolyn; he's always been fair with me."
"John, I'm sure he has been but please get everything in writing first; we can't afford something to go wrong."
John promised he would make sure everything was written down before saying yes. The next day he told Mr. Halley he would take his offer but he had to have it all in writing. Mr. Halley smiled and slid a sheet of paper in front of him.
"What's this?" John asked.
"Just what you asked for; it's a contract spelling out everything we talked about yesterday. I'm a business man, John; I don't make a move unless it's in writing. Was the contract your idea or your wife's?" he asked.
"Ah, well it was actually Carolyn's, Sir."
"It sounds like she has a good head on her shoulders, John; I'd like to meet her sometime."
"Sure, maybe I can bring her by the dealership sometime," responded John.
Mr. Halley grinned. "As you can see, I wrote that agreement myself so there's no legalese in there; it's pretty straight forward but if you have a family lawyer or somebody you'd like to take a look before you sign it, that's fine."
John was already reading the document. "No Sir, it's exactly like you offered, when can we get started?" he asked while signing.
"You start figuring out what you need and how much it'll cost; I'll have my maintenance guys start knocking that wall down this weekend."
And so started John and Carolyn's long hard climb from the rat hole in which they lived. It wasn't easy by any means. The amount of trade-ins the dealership took in each week varied so John never knew how much he was going to make on a regular basis; as a result, Carolyn wanted to hold off until the baby was born before moving to a nicer place; she knew the baby would have needs and also knew they would have hospital bills to pay off.
Even with the money he was now making it looked as if they would never get out from under their finances.
John watched with affection as his, now very pregnant wife, maneuvered herself into one of their two chairs. "I'm thinking of hiring another guy," he told her just as she was about to open a romance paperback; they had no TV.
"Honey, how can you afford to do that; won't it cut into your profits terribly?"
"Not if I start taking in cars from other dealerships. He could train with me at night for a couple of weeks; then, when he's ready, I'd put him on days. He could be detailing cars while I'm doing my job for the dealership. I already talked it over with Mr. Halley; he said he didn't care as long as I promised to do his cars personally."
Carolyn looked at her young husband and smiled; just seven months prior he was a boy who bravely took on the awesome responsibility of a wife and child; since then he had grown into a man, a man with whom she was extremely proud.
"Honey, I have all the confidence in the world in you," she told him reaching over and taking his hand, "if this is something you want to do, go for it."
One month later little Sari was born. John looked at her cradled in her mother's arms with tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Honey, you're crying," Carolyn said softly, "Is anything wrong?" She'd never seen him cry before, even in their darkest hours.
He slowly shook his head; "No, dear; I was just thinking back to the night I proposed; I told you I wasn't sure what true love was; I do now," he said with a big grin, "Carolyn, I love you and Sari with all my heart and soul."
She smiled and wiped the moisture from his face; "I've loved you from the moment I first saw you," she told him. John bent down over the guard rail of the hospital bed and kissed them both.
That was twenty-four years ago. Sari is now happily married with a child of her own. John and Carolyn's other child, Sean, is a twenty-one year old junior in college who is working toward his degree in business administration; someday he will step into his father's shoes and run the string of detail shops his dad had built from the ground up.
Unfortunately, none of the grandparents ever took an active interest in the children as they grew; it was their decision, not Carolyn and John's who offered them an olive branch on several occasions only to have it refused each time.
Yeah, they might be sitting on easy street now, but the trip was far from being easy; it took sweat and toil, there were stumbling blocks along the way, but that never stopped them, neither of them. They worked together for everything they had. In a few months they would celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary ... time to start winding down and taking life a little slower.
"Honey, let's stop in here first," Carolyn said standing in front of the jewelers at the local mall. "I want to get my rings cleaned quickly."
While they waited Carolyn noticed her loving husband looking at an expensive watch in the case. "Why don't you get it, honey; you need a good watch."
"Nah, it's too much money; I don't need anything that expensive."
"Honey, you work hard; you deserve to treat yourself; if you were going to buy it for me, you wouldn't think twice about the cost," she said trying to reason with him.
"That's because you're the love of my life," he told her with a peck on the cheek. As they left the store with Carolyn's rings sparkling brilliantly, she knew exactly what she was going to get her husband for their anniversary.
Overnight it had rained just enough to give their suburban back yard that fresh cut lawn scent. It was too nice to sit inside so Carolyn served breakfast on the rear deck that overlooked the pool. As was their normal weekend morning routine, they each pored over their favorite section of the Sunday paper.
"Hey, honey," Carolyn said using a higher tone in her voice than normal, "Prospect Community college is offering evening art classes starting next month; I'd love to get back into doing some sketching and a little painting again; if you remember, I was pretty good in my day."
"I remember very well; I still have the sketch that you did of me when we first met."
"What? You do not," she said verbally challenging her husband to back up his claim. John got up and went into the house; a couple minutes later he returned with an old photo album he kept in the closet. He laid it on the table in front of her.
"Look in the back," he said proudly. She couldn't believe it; she had no idea he still had her sketch after all those years. It was slightly yellowed, but other than that, the album had kept it in good condition.
John sat with a satisfied grin as his wife stood and walked behind him bending down and draping her arms over his shoulders; she leaned in with her head and gently kissed him on the cheek. "You have a very exciting night ahead of you," she whispered.
"Actually, after breakfast I don't have anything planned for the rest of the day," he said ending his statement with an evil, Snidely Whiplash, laugh.
"You're on," she replied.
"So? Are you going to sign up?"
"Sign ... oh yeah, you got me so hot I almost forgot what started us talking; yeah, I'd like to if you don't mind," she said sitting back down to finish her breakfast.
"Mind; why would I mind you taking art lessons?"
"Well, the lessons run from seven to nine on Tuesday nights. I'll have to leave around six-thirty and wouldn't be home until nine-thirty or ten," she told him.
"Honey, I think I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself for a few hours," he responded.
"Okay; I'll sign up tomorrow," she said getting excited, "Thank you, honey; when I'm done with the classes I'll do your portrait again," she said with a smile.
"How about a nude," he joked.
"I don't know if I can sketch anything that small," she laughed.
John faked a surprised look. "I'm going to make you take that back," he jokingly thundered while quickly standing up. She screamed and laughed at the same time as he picked her right up, out of the chair, and carried her inside.
Carolyn looked lovingly into her husband's eyes as he laid her down on the bed. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down, joining their lips with the same passion they had when they first started out together; it never faded, not even a little bit.
She moaned and squirmed with hedonistic pleasures under John's expertise as he slowly worked his way through every hill and valley of her body. She was wild, climaxing for the second time already as her hero's tongue sent her into a frenzy with its manipulation of her swollen clit.
"Oooh, love me, honey," she whimpered.
Taking his cue from years of experience, he joyfully slipped into his baby and made love.
Carolyn cuddled into the nook of her husband's shoulder. "Okay, you win," she said while still panting, "I take back what I said about it being little."
As the time for Carolyn's art classes grew nearer, her excitement grew as well. John could hear the enthusiasm in her voice as his wife described her creative passions over the phone to her best friend, Linda.
A few days before her classes started, John wanted to show his interest and asked to see what art supplies she bought. She gleefully spread everything out on the coffee table and showed him the tools with which she would produce one masterpiece after another.
"That's quite a lot of stuff you have, honey, what are you going to carry it in?" he asked.
It was obvious from the look on her face she hadn't thought of that. "I don't know, I guess I can just throw everything into a shopping bag."
"What?" he said surprising her, "And have everyone in town think I'm married to a bag lady; not likely," he said pulling his gift from the hall closet. "Wouldn't this be better than a shopping bag?"
In his hands was beautiful leather, zippered carrying case specifically designed to, not only carry her supplies, but protect her art work as well.
"Oh, honey," she said putting her hands to her mouth, "It's gorgeous."
"And it has your initials right down here in the corner," he said pointing to the two gold letters inlayed into the cover, "Just in case someone else has one just like it," he joked. "Here," he said handing it to her, "Make sure everything fits."
She took it from him and carefully arranged everything in its proper place. When she was done she sat on her husband's lap; she looped her arms around his neck and gave him a very appreciative kiss. "Just for that, I may have to give you some more nookie tonight; think you can handle it, big boy?" she asked grinning from ear to ear.
"There's only one way to find out," he responded with a wide grin of his own.
For the first four weeks Carolyn couldn't wait to show her loving husband what they had done in class. They practiced size, shape, and perspectives; they studied light and shadow, as well as the proportional relevance of one object to another.
There were sketches of wooden blocks, bowls of fruit, and potted plants; one particular drawing of a human hand was extremely good. She was very talented and John always told her so as he praised the various charcoal, pencil, and watercolor sketches she brought home.
It was after the fifth week that John noticed a distinctive change in Carolyn's attitude. Normally, as soon as she walked through the door, she would lay her carrying case on the couch just long enough for a kiss then unzip it and gleefully show him the various sketches they had done in class. That night; however, she went directly upstairs without saying a word then came down a couple minutes later minus her case.
"What's the matter?" he inquired as she started to kiss him.
"Nothing," she answered, "why?"
"Well let's see your work, what did you do in class?"
"Oh, John, it's the same old stuff we do every week," she said, "I know you have to be getting tired of seeing it over and over."
"That's not true, honey, I love your sketches; you're very good."
"Maybe later," she responded, "I'm tired; I think I'll hit the sack right after the news tonight; you don't mind do you?"
"No, of course not," he said watching her very closely, "Are you sure nothing's wrong?" he asked again.
"I'm sure, honey, just tired," she said finally giving him his kiss with a smile.
They sat, cuddled together on the couch as they watched the news. As soon as it was over she kissed him on the cheek, said good night, and went to bed leaving John with the distinct feeling that something was wrong, she was keeping something from him, something that would keep him awake almost all night wondering about.
The following day turned out to be one of those days where anything that can go wrong, did. John was heading north on I-94 when he called home.
"Hi, honey; how is your day going?" he asked emphasizing the word, 'your.'
Carolyn could tell from the sound of his voice that her hard working husband was having problems. "Well, something tells me my day is going better than yours," she replied, "What's wrong honey?"
"I'm headed up to the Milwaukee shop. They were power spraying the undercarriage of a car and the damn lift jam; now they can't get it back down. They've got a repair guy coming out but the manager can't stick around and wait for him. It's his wife's birthday and they have reservations for dinner, so I said I'd go up and wait for the repair guy. Sorry hon, I'm just calling to say I'll be late getting home; it'll probably be eight or nine."
"Okay, well, actually I was about to call you. Linda wants to go out and see some chick-flick at the show. Her hubby doesn't want to see it so she called and asked if I'd go with her; would you mind, honey?"
"No, of course not; you go out and have fun."
"I'll fix you something that you can heat up in the microwave when you get home," she told him.
"Ah, don't bother with that, honey; I'll stop off someplace on my way home. You just go and have a good time."
"Okay, darling, I will. I love you," she said.
"I love you too, doll; I'll see you when you get home," he told her as he hung up.
When John walked into the shop his manager expressed his gratitude for making the trip up there. He hadn't been married that long and he couldn't even imagine missing his wife's birthday.
"Since I'm here, why don't you take the rest of the day off," he told his employee, "That should get you some brownie points." Again his manager thanked him and left leaving John to wait for the repairman.
It was almost seven o'clock by the time the lift was fixed. He found a nice little restaurant for dinner, so it was almost ten by the time he walked in the door. John looked around but Carolyn wasn't home yet; he didn't really expect her to be anyway, it would have just been nice to get a hug and kiss after the rough day.
John went upstairs to grab a shower. As he was pulling a clean shirt from the closet he noticed his wife's carrying case. 'Should I?' he thought. He really did appreciate her work and she did say she'd show it to him later. John didn't see any harm in taking a peek.
He laid it on the bed and opened the zipper. 'Ah, let's see, this is nice, ' he said to himself while looking at a bowl of fruit done in pen and ink, and..."What the hell ... No wonder she didn't want to show me what they did in class last night." he literally said out loud.
Laying in the case, staring up at him was a beautiful charcoal sketch of a NAKED MAN!
"Shit," he said talking to himself again, "the fucker's not even wearing a jock strap." He studied the drawing closer. 'I wonder if her proportions are correct, ' he thought, 'if they are this guy's hung like a horse.'
He felt just a twinge of jealousy as he thought about his lovely wife staring at the guy's horse cock for two hours. "What kind of guy even does this?" he audibly asked himself again.
"Shit, you can see by his face the guy's proud of his equipment. I'll bet he's some kind of gigolo ... sure, what could be better for a guy like this, than to advertise what he's got to a whole group of gawking females. The fucker's probably got them hanging all over him by the end of class; he could have his pick."
"Shit," he said again as he heard his wife's car door close, "she's home." John laid the sketches back in the case just as he had pulled them out and stuck it back in the closet. He was just coming down the stairs, buttoning his shirt when she walked in the door.
"Hey, baby," he said approaching her for the traditional hug and kiss, "I beat you home."
There it was again, he thought as they embraced; she can't possibly still be embarrassed from last night but something is definitely wrong; it's almost as if she felt guilty about something...
"Did you get everything fixed in Milwaukee?" she asked after the kiss.
"Yeah, everything's fine now," he replied.
"Did you eat?" she asked.
"Yup, stopped off on the way home, how about you?"
"Yeah, I had something before I left," she said.
"Honey, you still seem a little on edge to me, are you sure everything is okay?"
"Yes, honey, honest," she answered.
The next morning Carolyn seemed fine at breakfast and continued to be her own sweet, loving self for the next several days and nights; probably just my imagination, he thought to himself ... that was, until the following Tuesday evening when she came home from art class and simply announced she had signed up for a more advance art class on Thursday nights as well.
"You've already signed up; without even saying anything to me first?" he asked surprised that she would do something like that without consulting with him.
"Yeah; why, I thought you were encouraging me with my art," she said using a defensive tone in her voice.
Suddenly the feelings he had before came rushing back with a vengeance; there was more involved here than her simply being embarrassed by some nude model; they'd been together too long, been through too much for him not to detect a change in his wife, no matter how subtle it was. For the first time in their marriage it felt like his wife was hiding something from him.
"That's not the point, we've always discussed things together; when you signed up for this class you asked if I would mind; I said of course not, and I don't mind you taking more courses, but it's not like you to cut me out of the loop and not even say anything first. We have always talked things over before, and I want us to continue discussing things before unilaterally doing something without the other's knowledge."
Carolyn looked at his face; he wasn't pleased, that was obvious; very few times in twenty five years had she seen him like that; with her anyway; she really didn't need an angry, or suspicious husband ... not now.
"Honey, I'm sorry, it'll be the same teacher I have for Tuesday's classes; he will be teaching the advanced course as well; he really likes my work and thinks I have talent. He told me tonight I should sign up for the class but there was only one or two spots left; I had to make a decision. You've been so supportive, I just didn't think you'd mind; are you mad?"
Hell, he never could stay angry with her for more than thirty seconds and her explanation about why she signed up without telling him first sounded credible, so once again he shook off that nagging feeling in his gut.
"No, I'm not mad," he said as she tossed her arms around his neck with a smile, "Do I need to get you another case?" he joked.
"No, honey, this one will do just fine," she said just before forcing her tongue down his throat.
That night Carolyn didn't bother to wait for his advances; she made some of her own. He hardly even hit the mattress before she was all over him. Her soft, moist lips lovingly caressed every erogenous part of his body. She licked and sucked until he cried for mercy; that's when she reached his cock.
By the next morning John had forgotten all about his worries. Over the next few weeks, other than a couple little eccentricities here and there, everything seemed to be normal. Carolyn went to her art classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights, always leaving and coming home about the same time. The only thing that bothered John a little was that she never brought anything home on Thursday nights to show him. She said, because of it being a more advanced class, they would leave their stuff at the school where they could continue working on it each week. That seemed a little strange to him, but he had absolutely no talent at all when it came to art, so what the hell did he know.
"You sure look satisfied with yourself," said Erin.
John sat, leaning back in the comfort of the large, leather chair with his feet propped up on the oak desk and his hands folding on top of his head. He looked at his secretary of the last ten years with a big 'Cheshire Cat' grin. "Yeah, I was just thinking about the trip; it's coming up quickly," he said.
"I envy you," she told him, "two whole weeks in the Virgin Islands, wow. I'll bet Carolyn can hardly wait."
"I haven't told her yet; it's a surprise for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary."
"Oh, John, I know but that's what, a week from tomorrow? You have to give her time to get ready; that's half the fun. There are friends to tell, shopping trips to go on; didn't you say she's taking art lessons, what about those; she has to tell her teacher she won't be in class. Don't wait until the very last minute to tell her, John, that's not fair."
"Shit, you're probably right; I just wanted to surprise her."
"Well you can still surprise her, just don't do it the day before you leave, that's all."
John stared at her while thinking for a few seconds. "You're right; there's nothing doing today, I think I'll take off early, pick up some flowers on the way home, and surprise her today. I can always buy her something nice to wear on the trip and give her that just before we leave."
He felt like a little kid as John tip toed through the house hiding a dozen yellow roses behind his back and plane tickets in breast pocket. As he quietly moved toward the kitchen he heard his wife's voice; she must be on the phone, he thought.
As he got nearer he thought he heard someone else' voice as well; damn, don't tell me she has company, he thought to himself. He peered around the corner and found the source of the second voice. His wife was stretched out in the chase lounge on the patio with her back to the sliding screen door; next to her was a small table where lay her phone set on speaker.
Like a cat, he snuck up within inches of the screen just waiting for her to finish the call before surprising her with his floral tribute for nearly twenty-five years of devotion.
Now, from where he was standing, he could hear both voices clearly and knew she was talking to her best friend, Linda. Nut's he thought, this could take forever; he started to eavesdrop on their conversation to see if he could tell if they were almost finished talking.
"So, are you meeting your boy-toy at the motel again tonight?" he heard Linda ask.
"Yes, and how many times do I have to tell you, he's not my boy-toy."
"Mmmm, I don't know, if his cock is as big as you say, he sure sounds like a boy-toy to me," he heard Linda say with a giggle.
"That doesn't make him my boy-toy, and believe me, he's all man; if anyone's the boy-toy it's Tony."
"Does he get jealous when you're with Mark?"
"No, are you kidding; he wants me to do them both together."
"Oooh togetherness, kinky," Linda said chuckling again.
"Yeah, he actually had me thinking about it for a while but I just couldn't do it, it's just too kinky for me."
"I have to tell you, Carolyn, for as long as I've known you, you've always been little miss goody two shoes, I never figured you for such a naughty girl ... meeting some young Adonis in motel rooms every week ... tsk, tsk, tsk," Linda teased.
"Will you stop, it isn't funny, Linda; damn, I can't tell you how guilty I feel. I have never lied to John, and I've certainly never gone behind his back like this before. I have to admit, while I'm there, it's fun, I enjoy it, but as fast as I leave that motel room I start to feel ashamed of myself."
He'd heard enough; he would have charged out and confronted her right then and there but he didn't want her to see the tears streaming down his face; he wasn't going to give her that satisfaction.
He quietly slipped out the same way he came in only now, the childlike anticipation of surprising his lovely wife had been replaced with pain and anger. "I knew it, I knew there was something wrong; I fucking knew it!" he said verbally chastising himself as he tossed the flowers in the passenger side of the car and took off down the road.
John had no idea where he was going; all he knew was that he had to get away from the house; from his wife ... or should he start thinking of her as his ex-wife. Suddenly his emotions got the better of him; he felt his whole body start to tremble; he pulled off to the side of the road and burst out bawling like a baby.
John had no idea how long he'd been parked on the side of the road; it could have been ten minutes, an hour, maybe more; he didn't know. As his tears started to subside, he looked through the windshield to get his bearings; not far ahead was a welcoming sign announcing the location of a Holiday Inn.
He couldn't go back to the house; he couldn't face his wife, not yet; he needed a place to think, it was as good as any.
Once again, tears flowed freely down the sides of his face as he lay down staring at the ceiling. All his life he had been able to handle any situation that came up, but this ... this may just break him. He couldn't even imagine living the rest of his life without his partner, but that's what was going to happen; there was no way he would accept her infidelity ... no way at all.
God, what's that incessant noise, he thought to himself as he awoke with a start; it was his phone ... shit, he had cried himself to sleep! John looked at the display, it was a little past six o'clock, he should have been home an hour ago; then he remembered why he was not home. He knew by the ring tone it was Carolyn on the other end. He had to answer it.
"Hello," he tried to sound like he hadn't just woken up.
"Honey; my God, are you alright? I've been calling for the last twenty minutes wondering where you are."
He had to think fast; he just wasn't ready to confront her ... not yet. "I'm back in Milwaukee. I tried to call you earlier but the line was busy."
"Oh I'm sorry, I was talking to Linda. When will you be home?"
"I don't know, the lift is stuck again," he said feeling guilty about the lie he just told his wife; what the hell, if she can lie, so can he. "It may be late; are you going to your art class tonight?"
"Yeah, honey; I have to leave in half an hour. I've been holding dinner for you but I'll wrap it up and put it in the fridge before I go; you can heat it up in the microwave."
"Okay, that's fine," he replied.
Carolyn couldn't help but believe something was wrong; she could feel it, even over the phone. "Honey, are you sure you're alright, you sound a little strange; is everything okay at work?"
"Yeah, everything is fine; I'm just aggravated with this damn lift," he told her, lying again.
"Okay; I'll see you then tonight when I get home, honey. I love you," she said waiting for her, 'I love you too, ' but instead his retort was a simple, 'me too, ' before hanging up. That really bothered her. In all their years, when ending a call, she always said she loved him and he always responded with telling her he loved her too, not just, 'me too.'
As she wrapped up the left-overs from dinner and got ready to leave, Carolyn couldn't help but feel a sense of impending danger but shrugged it off as simply her own guilt-ridden conscience talking to her.
John jumped up from the bed and rushed out the door. His plan was simple; he would follow her to their little rendezvous and confront her and her lover at the same time.
He parked down the street from his house, and not a moment too soon, he thought as he saw his wife already backing out of the drive. He watched as she took off in the opposite direction of where her classes were supposed to be held. He didn't want to get too close for fear she would spot him. He watched her car carefully as others weaved in and out their lanes.
Then it happened; she caught a yellow light and got through the intersection just before the three cars that separated them stopped in front of him. Shit! He tried following the tail lights but within seconds she was out of sight. Once traffic started moving again he passed the cars ahead of him and tried to catch up but it was no use, she was gone.
John thought about the direction in which she was heading and tried to put his deductive reasoning skills to good use. Okay, he thought, she was to meet her lover at seven o'clock; that meant the motel was within twenty minutes of their house, but in that area, so close to O'Hare airport, that could be twenty or thirty different motels ... maybe more.
John spent the next two hours driving through the parking lots of every motel he could think of but never found Carolyn's car. Now what, he thought; he needed a new plan. For his own sake, he needed proof, he needed more than just what he had overheard on the phone; for him to end their marriage he would need closure, and that would only come with conclusive evidence of his wife's betrayal.
It was a little after nine. No longer feeling guilty about lying, John pulled out his cell and called her number. He figured she should be leaving her little tryst just about then.
"Hi, honey," she answered a little warily, "I'm on my way home right now," she said quickly.
"I'm not; I'm still stuck up here in Milwaukee and probably will be for another couple of hours. I'm too tired to drive home tonight; I'm going to spend the night up here in a motel."
Carolyn's stomach immediate was tied in knots. "Honey, please tell me what's wrong; we've been together too long; I can tell by your voice, something is wrong, John; what is it?"
He heard the concern in his wife's voice and instantly recognized the danger; if she knew he suspected she could put a stop to the affair, or simply postpone it until things cooled off; he'd never catch her, maybe never know for sure; he had to get himself under control.
"I'm sorry, honey," he said a sweetly as he could, "it's just this damn lift; it looks like I'm going to have to get a new one."
"Are you sure that's all it is, John; please, be honest with me, you'd let me know if anything was wrong, wouldn't you?"