Chapter 1: Cody

You ever have one of those days? You know the ones I’m talking about. They start off normal but then get worse as the day goes on. That happened to me one Wednesday, a few months ago. I got up, made the coffee, put the frozen biscuits in the oven while my wife, Sue, did her thing in our bathroom. When she finished, she came into the kitchen and started breakfast, bacon and eggs, while I used the bathroom.

When I finished, breakfast was ready and we ate together, talked a little about what we were going to do after work today and a lot about our plans for the weekend. We kissed goodbye and left at the same time for our jobs.

I work in an office downtown sorting out deliveries and writing reports. ‘Paper-pusher’ as my brother calls it. What the fuck, it pays the bills.

Sue works as a receptionist at a lawyer’s office located in the suburbs. Again, it is not real glamorous, but it helps. We have been married just over two years and while we are not getting rich, we are glad we both have good paying jobs, especially in this economy.

About three hours into my workday my boss, Mr. Jenkins, comes into my office with a stack of files. He tells me I should plan on working late today because he wants all this shit finished, a report written and ready for him in the morning.

“Fuck that!” I shouted, my anger rising.

“I’m already overloaded as it is. Why can’t Latresa do it? All she has done since you hired her is sit at her computer chatting with her friends or ordering shit off one of those shopping sites.”

“Now Cody don’t get loud. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, she’s a black woman and she’s special.” I screamed. “She’s a damn incompetent DEI hire and you want me to cover for her. Well fuck that. Give it to her.”

“You’ll do it or find another job!”

Half an hour later I was putting a box with all my personal belongings in the passenger seat of my truck.

I drove home wondering if I should give Jenkins as a reference on my job applications.

I pulled into my driveway and did not bother opening the garage doors. I figure I’ll go in and change clothes, I hate wearing this damn coat and tie. I plan on going to the local greasy spoon and having lunch, getting a paper and start looking for a job.

As I opened the door to the garage I saw it.

Fuck! My day is about to get worse if that is even possible.

There, in Sue’s part of the garage, sat a pale blue corvette. I know that car and who it belongs to. Paul Stubbs, a lawyer at the firm where Sue works. He is the son-in-law of the owner, married with two kids, one of whom is a month old!

Fuck!

The kitchen door is unlocked, so I do not have to use my key. I can hear them in the bedroom, Sue anyway.

“Damn! I love the way you do that! Use your finger! Right there! Fuck! OH GOD! YES!” she is screaming her climax!

There is no doubt in my mind what is going on in MY bedroom. I spot the knife block that was one of our wedding presents sitting on the counter. Less than a minute later that corvette has four flat tires!