In Cold Blood
Copyright© 2017 by Jedd Clampett
Chapter 2: Back to the Nightmare!
Oh damn! I woke up. I’d only been dreaming. I was alone in my house. Oh Jesus, now I remember; my parents and brother had come and gone, I’d tried to eat, I’d gone in to lie down and watch some TV. I took one of those pills, and must have drifted off.
What a dream, but it was only a dream. I checked the clock – 4:00 a.m. What day was it, Tuesday? No Wednesday. I rolled over to the side of the bed. Oh crap I had a morning trip; shouldn’t be a problem. I got up and got dressed, so I’d do the trip, kind of a partial tour and fishing thing, and then see what I needed to do about my wife, or ex-wife or whatever she was.
I had to stop for some breakfast first. Lisa-Ann was carrying dishes back and forth. I waved. She frowned. I took an empty seat and pulled her apron string when she walked by. She stopped to retie it. I whispered, “Break any dishes yet?”
She whispered back, “Fuck you asshole.”
I smiled.
When she came back I ordered two scrambled eggs, two pieces of toast, and a cup of coffee to go. Less than a minute later she was back with two raw eggs, two pieces of untoasted bread and a cup of black coffee. I put the lid on the coffee, scrunched up the check, dropped a nickel on the table, and left.
A few hours later halfway out in the bay I got a call from my lawyer, “Hello Larry?”
“Yes, this is he.”
“Your wife’s hired a lawyer; said he’d be faxing her proposals to us later today. Want to drop by and see what she’s got?”
“Sure, 5:00 p.m. sound OK?”
“No tomorrow morning. Give me some time to look everything over, besides I’ve got other clients lined up this afternoon.”
“I suppose its tomorrow then. See you.”
The next morning I got to my lawyers a little before 7:00. He was waiting, “Here Larry, look at what her lawyer sent over, and tell me what you think.”
I read through what’d been sent. It was short and brutal, no emotion, no nothing. She agreed to the separation the way it was worded, but she wanted a face to face; with and the without our lawyers present, and she wanted it by early next week! That was when she said she’d share her proposals in detail. Mr. Bradley told me he was amenable to the set up, but I needed to know that schedules had to be drastically modified to get everything ready so quickly. He explained there would be additional costs. That was when I found out I’d be paying her lawyer’s fees as well as my own. I told him to go ahead.
The next morning I was on my boat again when my lawyer called. Everything was set. Monday morning, 8:00 in her lawyer’s office. She’d have her proposals, and we’d bring ours. This was going fast!
Monday, Monday...
Before I got there I’d worked up what I thought was fair and shared it with Mr. Bradley; plus I’d emailed my oldest brother telling him to expect to be deposed, maybe even summoned to court. My lawyer had sent Terry Reinhold and Johnny registered letters telling them the same thing. I thought I knew all there was I needed to know. I was ready, but on the sly, court costs notwithstanding I hoped we’d end up in court. It would be beautiful to force good ole Rich and Johnny to appear for something like this.
Rich’s friends and fellow officers might laugh it off, but then they might start wondering about their wives. Not that it would affect his career, but it would be good to see the bastard testify. One thing for certain; he was no brother of mine, not anymore. A second thing; he might be the oldest, but I was the leanest and meanest. His pretty uniform would cut no slack with me. Fuck, when I was in the National Guard I remembered there were the chicken shits and there were men, and since Iraq the military had been handing out medals like they were candy. Rich had a Bronze Star, no ‘V’ though. McCreary had a ‘Star’ too, never saw it, but I bet it had that ‘V’. Yeah I wondered how many papers Rich had to staple to get his. I might be stapling his face with my fists. I wouldn’t be doing it for Susan though; no that treat would be for me.
Not so good for Johnny and Terry; they both were married. Johnny’s wife thought the sun rose and set around him. Court or not I’d make sure she knew. Johnny had kids; I’d make sure they’d know too. “Daddy is it true you did a bad thing with Aunt Susan?”
Monday morning, just days after my restaurant surprise, and we were convened in Sheldon Converse’s office up in Chesapeake City. Mr. Bradley and I arrived. Susan and her lawyer were waiting. We took seats across from each other at a long rectangular table. I thought Susan looked tired. I knew I was.
Her lawyer started, “My client has a prepared statement she’d like to read.”
I nodded.
Susan took out a small parcel of papers. I could see everything was hand written. The pages looked wrinkled.
She began, “Before I read I want you to understand Larry that regardless of what you might think or what you might’ve found out I love you very much. I also want to make it clear that I think you’ve been a good husband, and an adequate if not good provider. Now I’ll begin...”
She took her paper and began to read.
“First, despite everything I’ve wanted to have your children. If things hadn’t turned out the way they have I think we could’ve started at the end of the current school year. I know I would have enjoyed having your children and being a mom. I think I would have been a good mom, and I know you’re going to be a great dad someday.”
She looked at me, “Guess that’s gone now.”
It was, and I felt bad about it. I muttered, “That’s for sure.”
She took a breath and went on, “Though technically we don’t live in a ‘no fault’ state none of the things I may have done will have any bearing on the outcome of our divorce. That leads me to my main point. I do want a divorce. I’ll tell you why.”
She stifled a nervous burp and looked at her lawyer, “May I have a glass of water?”
While her lawyer filled a glass from a nearby pitcher she went on, “I want to go home. I’ve lived on the Shore with you for several years. With one exception I’ve made a good home for you. I’ve tried to adjust to the cultural norms of this area. I’m sorry; I just can’t do it. I can’t stay here any longer.”
I supposed her infidelity was the ‘one exception’. I listened.
“Here are my proposals. I know they are fair, and with my lawyer’s advice I know they’ll be upheld if you choose to go to court.”
She started with her proposals.
“Proposal one: I have my personal possessions, my clothes, my chinaware, my silver, several things that were mine before we married such as my grandmother’s jewelry and certain articles from other relatives that are dear to me but have no special emotional value for you. I want all these things.”
She pushed a sheet of paper across the table. I looked over the items and saw there was nothing there that wasn’t legitimately hers. I set the paper aside, “OK, next.”
She continued, “Proposal two: I’m entitled to half the value of the house. We should have the dwelling appraised, and you may either buy me out or we can put it up for sale and split the proceeds after all liens have been settled. I know you contributed all the down payment, but from the first day of our marriage I’ve been a full-time homemaker and financial contributor, and that entitles me to a fair disposal of the money we’ll get from the sale of the house.
Proposal three: There are pieces of furniture, tapes, DVDs, paintings, and pictures we both cherish. I suggest we go through the house with colored notecards, blue for you, red for me. You label what you want. I’ll label what I want. If there’s a conflict, rather than negotiate we’ll simply sell the disputed items. Regarding pictures; I want no pictures, no family pictures, no pictures of you or us together. I want this to be a clean break. I won’t be needing them. I don’t want any reminders. The next time I cross the Bay Bridge it will be for the last time. I’ll never come back.
Proposal four: There’s alimony. I’ll expect alimony for three years. That’s fair, and will allow me enough time to restart my life. I’m prepared to submit what I think is a fair amount. You can submit your proposal, and we’ll let a neutral person weigh what’s fair based on our incomes.
Proposal five: You’re on my health care. I’ll be leaving the area. My health care will most likely continue but with higher rates until I can have it wrapped around anything new I get. I’m prepared to let you stay on my plan for as long as my alimony is paid, but you’ll have to pay any difference in costs for your coverage.
Proposal six: Current savings and investments including my pension. I’ll be cashing out my pension. I’ll share what I get fifty-fifty. It won’t be much. I expect all other accounts will be handled the same way.
Proposal seven: Regarding the divorce; we’re parting due to irreconcilable differences. Issues of fidelity and infidelity are not on the table. That is something I will not officially discuss. However, if you agree to all the above terms I’ll stay after this meeting and answer any questions you might have.”
I’d sat and listened without interruption. I looked at my lawyer, “What do I do?”
He leaned forward and whispered, “Considering where we live she’s being fair. I’ll add we could sue for infidelity, and probably win, but do you want to do that? This way, what she’s proposing will be hard for you, but she said she’s not leaving the state so if any problems arise she’ll be nearby. It’s all really a matter of trust.”
“Trust,” I joked. Then more seriously, “You’re saying I don’t have a choice.”
My lawyer replied, “You have choices, and I’m willing to go to the wall with you on any or all of it. But it’s only fair to say, though you’d most likely win on points, her lawyer’s and my fees will wipe out the both of you. Even so; she gets a sympathetic judge and ... you catch my drift. Remember, this is Maryland, even on her terms nothing’s final for at least a year. We talked about that, remember? Face it, she wants out, you want out; you fight and you’ll both lose.”
I looked at my lawyer, at the paperwork she’d slid across, and then at Susan. I wondered what had happened. What had gone wrong? Had it been me? It couldn’t just be the area; it had to be something more, but I knew there was no going back. Not now.
“Susan,” I said.
She looked at me. I could tell she was scared.
“About the house. I did a lot of work. I think 60-40.”
She nodded, “OK, 60-40.”
Then I asked, “What about my boat? That’s mine. I need it to make a living.”
She seemed to fidget with her fingers. She looked down to her lap, “Yes, I see,” she looked at her lawyer, “Um, the boat’s yours free and clear. I don’t want it.”
For some reason that hurt more than if she’d wanted to get half. It was like the boat was me, and she was saying, even after the time we’d been together she just didn’t want me. A few days ago I’d been a happy man. I had a home, and a wife. Now I had a boat. Hell, after this I didn’t even want that. I said, “OK, but will you stay a few minutes?”
She nodded.
I said to our lawyers, “Do we sign anything?”
Her lawyer said, “I’ll work up the final details, and see your lawyer gets a copy tomorrow. There might be some bureaucratic resistance from the state. People in Annapolis like to see counseling. Even so it’ll take months for the divorce to be official, but this just about does it.”
We all stood up. Susan’s lawyer looked at her, “You’ll be all right?”
She nodded.
Glancing at me he said to her, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
She looked at me, then him, and smiled, “That won’t be necessary.”
She was right too. Other than seeing an attractive woman; she’d become nothing to me. That’s what shit like this will do.
So Susan and I stayed. She sat on her side of the table. I sat on mine. I felt good actually. Earlier that morning Lisa had given me a Xanax.
With the chemical help I did a pretty good job staying calm; not from fear or a possible upsurge in anger or any sense of betrayal. No, the anger would always be there, and the betrayal was all too far out in the open to matter. Other than a need to find out why, there was nothing left for me. I asked her, “Can you tell me why, and can you tell me when it started?”
She put her hands on her lap where I couldn’t see them. That usually meant she was scared and nervous, but her eyes told another story.
She began, “Don’t interrupt. I don’t want to fight. If you start a fight I’ll leave.”
I nodded. I didn’t want to fight; I wanted to escape.
“First I want to say Larry that no matter what you hear, I do love you. I’ve loved you since we were in college. I’ll start there. You remember Dwayne the basketball player at our school?”
I nodded.
“You remember how he pushed you down, and how I helped you up?”
I nodded again.
“I’d been fucking him for days. In fact he’d fucked me not more than an hour before you picked me up.”
My stomach groaned.
“In fact he wasn’t the only one. I fucked a lot of guys that year. You didn’t know it, but they knew, and they knew who you were. We used to laugh about it. They’d make fun of you behind your back, and sometimes right to your face. You didn’t know. I thought it was funny. I used to laugh too. I used to laugh and you thought I was laughing about something you said.”
I said, “Could you excuse me just one second?”
She looked at me as I reached over for a trash can and threw up. It was just oatmeal. Keeping the can at my side I said, “Sorry, what you said, I know it shouldn’t have been, but it was unexpected.”
She watched me, and for a second I saw my wife, the warm sweet person I thought I’d once known, but just as quickly that person disappeared, “Larry I could say I’m sorry, and in a way I guess I am, but really I’m not.”
I knew I should cry or at least feel something, but for some reason I didn’t feel much of anything except maybe sadness, that and a profound desire to get up and leave. Though I didn’t leave and didn’t understand the confusion about her being sorry but she’s not being sorry I replied, “OK, I think I get it.”
She said, “You graduated and went back home. I honestly never expected we’d get married. I loved you. I thought about you a lot, almost all the time, but there were the school parties, the picnics, the trips to New York. You never knew about any of that, and there was always a guy.”
I thought, ‘What a fool I was.’
She kept talking, “Then you asked me to marry you. I thought, well we’d get married and I’d go straight, but I needed to sew a few more wild oats. I had to travel. I want you to know wherever I went and whatever I did I always wore the jewelry you gave me. I don’t know why; remember that sweet necklace, and later the ring, they were kind of reassuring. They reminded me that I had a man back home waiting for me, a man I knew I could trust, a man who loved me, and I knew no matter what I did you’d never know. I can still remember lying in bed after I just fucked some guy I hardly knew; I’d fantasize I was with you.”
She held up her hand and raised her chin, “I even have them both on now. See.”
I thought, ‘Just hunks of metal. She could keep them.’ I realized something; there was something seriously wrong with Susan. She was sick, but what it was, the kind of sickness, I didn’t know.
Susan added, “I’d go places, I’d meet people, go to parties, and I’d fuck guys. I’d show them my jewelry. I’d tell them about you. I’d tell them what a nice guy you were, how reliable you were. I had a photograph; everyone said you were handsome. You are you know. They said I was lucky, and I agreed with them. They’d ask me why I was fucking around on you, and the only thing I could say was that I thought it was fun. Not the fucking. I could take or leave that, but the idea that you were somewhere probably thinking or dreaming about me, and I was out having a good time. The fucking; well that was part of the fun, like the dancing and swimming. It was cool; I’d be on the beach near Marseilles with my hand on a guy’s dick while an acquaintance was mailing you postcards from Vienna.”
I sat there. I was just numb.
She continued, “Larry you know all those guys, all those places; I hardly ever got off. The only guy who ever really got me off, I mean really turned me on was you.”
Looking at her; she was so beautiful. I wasn’t angry anymore, just sad, unbelievably sad. She was so sick, and I’d been so trusting, so naïve, and so incredibly blind. I did interrupt, “Didn’t you ever think about some of the diseases you could catch?”
She smiled, no she smirked, “Yes I did, and I did get something, twice.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I caught Gonorrhea while I was in Europe. They’ve got great health care there, and I got the medicines to clear it up.”
She seemed to settle back in her chair so I asked, “You said twice.”
“Oh yeah, sure; remember when I was in graduate school?”
I nodded, “Um mm.”
“Remember how you used to come up every couple weeks?”
“I do.”
“You remember my roommate Alice Fay and her boyfriend Herschel Bernstein?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well Herschel wasn’t Alice’s boyfriend; he was mine.”
I was almost out of my chair and out the door on that one, but Susan saw it and held me back.
“No wait Larry. I want to tell you. Yes I made him my boyfriend. I loved you, I was wearing your ring, but we weren’t married yet. You see everybody kept telling me that Jews had the biggest dicks. I decided to check it out with Herschel. You almost caught me one time. I knew you were coming up on a Saturday, but I figured you wouldn’t get to my apartment till after lunch. I had Herschel see me that Friday night. He stayed over and by dumb luck he was just getting in his car when you pulled up. Of course you’d already met him, you’d been told he was Alice’s, and so you probably figured he was leaving after a night with her.”
I said, “I remember. We even talked on the parking lot.”
“I know,” she said, “I watched from my window. He was a big disappointment; size-wise he was way below average. You have a nice one by the way.”
‘What the fuck, ‘ I thought. I smiled, “Thanks for the compliment. I’ll hold it close to my heart.”
She gave me a puzzled look, then went on, “Anyway Herschel caught something, he got Syphilis. He knew it too, but he gave it to me anyway. He dared me to give it to you. I didn’t though.”
I interrupted, “Well thanks. I appreciate the concern.”
She said, “Your welcome. I had to get a lot of shots. Remember in March and April before we got married, and how I called and told you I had a bad case of pneumonia?”
I nodded, “Don’t tell me.”
“That was when I was getting my shots. Remember how I wouldn’t let you touch me until after we got married. I wanted to make sure. I was still fucking other guys though.”
I’d heard enough. I really needed to leave, but I interrupted again, one last thing. “The problem for you was you never really loved me.”
She got edgy, angry a little, “No that’s not true. I loved you. I’ve always loved you. I love you right now. Even sitting here and telling you what I’ve done I can honestly say I do love you. I mean, I’ll always love you. If I could, I’d take you someplace and fuck you right now. It wouldn’t be a sex fuck either. I’d do it for love. It would be love.”
She seemed to sigh, “I’ve always loved being held in your arms. You’re not tall or muscular, but you always made me feel so safe. I don’t really enjoy sex, but with you it was always different,” she hiccoughed, “we had a really good, a happy marriage.”
I realized she wasn’t rational. There was just something wrong with her so I said, “You’re sick Susan.”
She looked down at her hands and almost in a whisper said, “You’re just saying that to hurt my feelings. You don’t know anything.”
“You fucked my brothers.”
She looked up and smiled; it was like she’d just done something great, “I did. I fucked them both. They were a sandwich. I sandwiched you between your brothers. It was terrific! I got Rich before Cancun and I got Johnny when we got back. I made them promise not to tell. And they didn’t either. I even fucked some of your cousins. I got Reed, and I got Jimmy, and I got Presley, but Collin wouldn’t do it; he said it would be wrong.”
I was past sick. I said, “I’ll keep Collin in mind this Christmas.”
“I did some of the guys down at the marina. Larry, no one, none of them was as good as you.”
“I know about the marina, and thanks for the praise. Is there anybody else? I mean is there anybody else I should thank?”
“Thank,” she asked?
“Yes. Who else should I thank for fucking my wife and fucking up my life?”
She looked perplexed, “No one fucked up your life. I just fucked some guys. It was funny and fun. I was fucking them and fooling you.”
“I asked my father if you fucked him. He said you hadn’t. Was he telling the truth?”
She said, “No he said he wouldn’t. He said your mom might find out.”
More as an aside I muttered, “That’s comforting,” then I said to her, “Is there anybody else you haven’t mentioned I should be grateful to?”
She said, “No one, except for some of the teachers at my school,” then she paused and looked at me, “Why would you be grateful?”
I said, “Just a comment. I mean if they made you happy...”
Son-of-a-bitch, she started to cry, “You think they made me happy? You think I was happy?” Gasping for breath she coughed and hiccoughed, cried and went on, “I wasn’t happy! I didn’t like any of it. I don’t even like sex, not much, sometimes maybe. Mostly I only liked having sex when I was with you, but you made me so mad! You think I wanted to fuck Dwayne? You think I wanted to fuck that big Nigger? I didn’t want to fuck any of them. It was you! It was all your fault!”
I was stunned, “Me? My fault? Care to explain that.”
She was outright boohooing, “You! You never loved me. You never cared about me. You never did, not really. I pretended you did, but I know you really didn’t.”
I thought, ‘This was bullshit. This had to be bullshit, of course it was, but what could I say?’ I told her, “That’s bullshit and you know it. I married you didn’t I?”
She heard that and almost fully recovered, but then I watched as she spiraled out of control again, “You think I don’t know? I saw you with her. I saw you with that stupid blond. That ‘Pin Up’ girl; that stupid cheerleader with the blond hair and the big tits!”
I was clueless. My wife was either the biggest liar in ten states, or she was certifiable. I asked, “Who? You mean Beverly Levinson?”
Susan was sitting fully erect, back straight like a piece of iron, “See you remember her even after all these years. That Jew bitch!”
“Well Christ. I might have taken her out a few times before we met, and she and I dated some after we broke up, but I never...”
“She was why I fucked Dwayne! And when we got married and came to your hometown you started fucking that other fat little Jew.”
I was stunned by that one. I said, “You mean Lisa-Ann?”
“Yes the fat little JAP.”
This was too much. Susan was completely off her rocker, “Susan you know I dated Lisa when I was in high school, but that was as much about her helping me with my grades as her being a girlfriend. Sure I admit Lisa and I have been kind of close, but sex with Lisa never happened, not before college, not after. And she’s not fat!”
Susan got all huffy, “That’s not true. Jew girls are all alike. They’ll fuck anything that moves.”
I got mad, but took a breath and held it in. Lisa might be a little shit, but she sure wasn’t anything like what Susan was saying. I’d come to the only conclusion I could. I was a sad broken man, but I was absolutely certain I was going to be better off without Susan in my life. I had just one more question, “Why the car salesman? He’s old enough to be your father. He even looks like your father.”
She bristled, “Don’t bring my daddy into this. This has been your fault; your fault all the way.”
I was about as disgusted as a man could be. She’d fucked the car salesman because she wanted to, that was all. I needed to bring this circus to a close. I said, “Susan I’ll agree to all your terms, but will you do me the courtesy of granting two wishes? Tell me something and promise me something?”
She got defiant, “What?”
“First, tell me how you were able to accomplish all the things you did here at home without me catching you, and second once you leave will you try to get help?”
At first she scoffed, but then got serious, “Come on Larry I had your schedule. I knew where you were every minute of every day. How long do you think it took to get one of these ‘crackers’ off? None of them lasted more than five minutes, and besides they were all jealous.”
She caught me off guard, “Jealous, what do you mean?”
“You went to college Larry. Your mom and dad helped you. That especially pissed Johnny off; he even said so. Everything you touched seemed to turn to gold. Reed said that. Then you always worked harder than anybody else; you were always working at the marina, while they hung out at the bars. They fucked me to get even.”
“And you let them.”
She looked soft. For a second I saw my wife; then she turned mean, “I saw how you looked at her; that Jewish cunt. You always loved her – never me.”
“Susan,” I said, “when you leave, promise me you’ll get help.”
She arched her back, “Why? I’m not sick.”
Well she was sick, sicker than I ever imagined, but there wasn’t much I could say or do. But then ... I couldn’t let her near me ever again, “Anyway Susan, thank you for your confession.”
She had to have the last word, “It wasn’t a confession. I just told you what I did.”
I shrugged, “Well thanks anyway.”
She got up first. I sat there and thought, ‘Maybe it wasn’t so bad? No, it was.’ I wondered, ‘How’d she get away with it without somebody telling me or me catching her?’ I guessed that was just another one of those imponderables like why the fuck do we have wisdom teeth or why is the sky blue? Just the same; nobody told me, and I never saw it.
We got up and left. We even walked through the same door, but we didn’t touch or shake hands or anything. We didn’t even say good bye. I was just glad it was over.
The next few days and weeks went by pretty fast. The paperwork was handed back and forth. Susan got everything she wanted. She quit her job, and moved back across the bay. We had to sell the house. I moved out on my boat. It was uncomfortable, but there wasn’t any rent to pay.
I drove back by the house a few times after it was sold. A new couple moved in. They had kids. There were some things I knew would take time to get over. Susan and I had planted an oak tree out front, just a sapling, when we first moved in. We’d said our marriage was going to be like that oak, something strong that would weather the test of time. She’d been so sincere. The affection I felt that day still crept back sometimes, but she’d fucked Johnny just days before and Rich days before that. It had all been bogus.
I was lost. No brothers, no parents, no real friends to speak of, but I had to talk to someone. I went to see our minister. He was great! Just great! Sure.
He gave me three things to consider, two of them were worthless. He gave me a book on how to get over a divorce. It was written by a woman. I thanked him for that and threw it out as soon as I got home. Second he talked all about Jesus and forgiveness. He kept saying I’d forgive in time. He even suggested Susan and I might reconcile someday. I thought about that and surmised, not in this lifetime. The third thing though made sense; he reminded me Jesus suffered and died on the cross and went to Hell, but on the third day he rose again. He said if Jesus could expiate all the sins of mankind in three days it was a sure bet I’d survive Susan. I thought he might be right about that.
It was time to pick up the pieces and move on. It was kind of funny in a way. Not ha ha funny, but weird kind of funny. Susan got her things and left. I sold what I could and took the rest to the dump, but after I moved out of the house it was like it all never happened, like I’d never been married. Sure, I had my memories. But Susan; what about her? It was as though all the love and feeling I had for her had died, or never existed. If I saw her again I’m sure I’d look her over; she was pretty and she’d been fun in bed. Beyond that nothing was there. In some ways it was like she never happened. She had though.
I’ll say I knew what happened. I had two brothers, several cousins, and more than a few former friends I just had to scratch off my list. I included my parents on that list too. Yeah, there were a lot of people who were just dead to me, and they’d stay that way. I thought about leaving; just taking my boat and moving further down the bay. I rethought that though. I rethought it for two reasons; one, no matter where I went I’d still have to look in the mirror. I’d still have to see me. The second thing was a little more complicated.
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