Edited by Barney R. Spelling and grammar checked by Grammarly.
All of the cheating stories have their clichés – I came home unexpectedly – she (or he) stopped or slowed way down on sex – he (or she) started using anything for an excuse to start an argument – bills from hotels that you had not been to – gas receipts from areas that your spouse wasn’t supposed to be in. They are clichés because any and all of them have happened enough that they become somewhat commonplace reasons for adulterous divorces.
Mine happened just that way.
I had been in Detroit for 3 days of a planned 5-day trip to do start-up and problem solving on a new powder paint line for a golf cart manufacturer. We certified contract compliance and I solved a minor problem, and thus only had to stay two nights.
I started to drive back to my house. It is an 8-hour drive, and I did not get to leave until 10:00 AM, so I figured to be back at my house and my wife by 8:00 PM. I needed to stop at my office and write my report. I also grabbed a quick supper as I did not expect to have something saved at home.
I tried to call my wife the previous night and every time I stopped to stretch or fuel up during the drive back home. I was more than a little surprised that my wife was not answering the home phone or her cell phone.
I wondered why. I wondered if she was away from the house or if we had lost power. Losing power was not a totally uncommon occurrence in the rural area I lived in.
We were in the process of upgrading our electrical system with a backup propane generator, but the tank and piping were not installed yet.
I arrived at the house at 7:50 PM. There was no one home, the power was OK. There was no indication that anyone had been in the house for the last day or more. There was a receipt from Victoria’s Secret with the name Wayne Scarpelli on the counter. It was dated yesterday morning. Wayne was and is a pussy hound and has been responsible for at least 3 divorces. It looks there is going to be one more.
About 8:30 my cell phone rang. It was Randi, my wife. I tried not to let on that I was home and asked her what she was doing.
She responded that she was in the living room and was getting ready to take a shower and go to bed. She asked why I hadn’t called the previous night and when would the job be done.
As I was sitting in the living room while I was talking to her I began to wonder what other lies she was going to tell me. I asked why she was using her cell phone instead of the house phone she said the house phone was not working.
I knew that that was a lie as I was looking into the kitchen and saw the message light flashing. I also told her I had called the previous evening and the answering machine picked my call up. I then said when I got the answering machine I left a message saying I would be home before midnight tonight. Then I told her I had called her cell it went straight to voice mail as if it was turned off.
She hesitated for a long second and said that the phone must have gone out sometime yesterday. Then she said; “I also forgot to put my cell phone on the charger night before last, and did not realize it until this afternoon when I was at the gas station getting the car filled. I had to buy one of those quick charge modules to get enough juice to use it now.” She continued, “I had a somewhat tiring day, but I will try to wait up for you when you get here.”
There was no joy in Mudville that evening.
I am Robert Cochran, I am 29, I am a 6’ nothing 185 lbs. Installation Supervisor, technical writer, and mechanical tinkerer. I am an avid runner, and spend time at the local fitness center, if I miss two days in a row I feel that I have falling way behind. I also like to fish and hike.
My favorite hobby is music. I collect records, cassettes, and music CDs. My current collection is 60% compiled onto my computer and I have about 600 hours of stuff to still compile.
My tinkering has paid me handsomely, and I could probably retire today and still not be broke if I lived to be 90. That is the good, now for the bad; I don’t take insults or anger directed at me well. I absolutely hate liars. I hold grudges until they crumble to dust. My word is my bond, and I hold anyone who makes a commitment to me to that standard.
I have been married to Randi for 3 years. I will not be married on the fourth anniversary.
My slut wife may try to get my money, but I have had business dealings with over half of the attorneys in our area and so the only ones she can get to represent her were ambulance chasers or newbies fresh from law school. Neither of us will win, but she will lose.
I will not be filling for a no-fault divorce. Adultery is a Class C felony in our state. It is not enforced often, but I plan on using the fact of the felony as leverage when it comes to negotiations.
Randi and I met when I went to meet a corporate manager, John Calvert, who wanted to license one of my patented gadgets. I normally try very hard to avoid personal and business overlap, but then John insisted that he take me to dinner after our successful negotiations. He brought his wife Marsha and his personal assistant Ms. Randi Witmore to “round out the table” he said.
Surprisingly, the conversation was all over the arena, and almost none was business-related. John talked a lot about the area and golf, Marsha was surprisingly an old car and music buff. Randi was also a music buff, and she liked to run and go camping. I, of course, added my two cents about music and got some rolls tossed at me when I revealed that I like a lot of disco music, but could not stand heavy metal, rap, or hip-hop. A fun time was had by all.
I asked Randi if I could call her after the business negotiations were over. She said that she was not sure, because she was a one-man woman, and she was dating someone.
I suppose here would be the time to describe Randi. She is 27, 5’ 8” 120 lbs. blue-eyed bombshell – not. She is 27, maybe 5’ 4” 105 lbs. soaking wet and fully clothed for a Michigan winter. She has mousy brown hair and glasses, but she was and is a great conversationalist. She had a wicked, cutting to the bone sense of humor. She also had a smile that would heal anything short of gangrene.
I sold the license to the company and called Randi. She turned me down for a date saying she had said at dinner that she was in a relationship. I thanked her for the pleasant dinner and said my goodbyes. I thought that that was last of her in my life boy was I wrong.
It was about 8 weeks later that I got a call from my patent attorney telling me that he had an offer to license another of my gadgets. It was from the same company where I had met Randi. My attorney was practically salivating at the deal; of course, he was making $300 an hour for looking out for my interests. He wanted me to go talk to them.
I agreed and met and concluded another deal. John said that Randi had asked to have me call her if I was still interested as her relationship had ended badly and she thought I was a nice person. I said I would call.
I told her that I would like to take her to dinner to get to know her better. She agreed.
I made reservations at a nice but not opulent restaurant. They served excellent food without making you feel that you were beneath there attention.
We had a great meal, and good conversation Randi told me she ended her relationship because the guy was two-timing her. She told me she was glad she found out before any major commitments were made on her part. She also said that she had been tempted when I asked the last time, but she took those commitments seriously. She was sorry her guy didn’t.
I jokingly stuck my foot in my mouth by saying; “I don’t mind being the rebounder when it is for a lady like you.”
I saw a look of anger cross Randi’s face and she said through clenched teeth; “What makes you think that there is going to be more than tonight’s dinner?”
I got my back up. I reached in my wallet, took out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to Randi and said; “I have obviously made you angry if my complimentary words piss you off, this is enough to get you back to your home by taxi.” I paid the bill for dinner and left. I did not say goodnight, goodbye or go to hell, I just left.
When I got back to my house, I turned off all of the lights, the phone, put on some very good soft jazz instrumentals and went to bed.
Obviously, that was not the end of it. About 7 AM there was a terrific pounding on my front door. I pushed the intercom and asked; “Who is it, and what in god’s green earth do you have to see me about at this hour of the morning?”
I heard a soft feminine voice; “Robert, please come out and talk to me I made a big mistake last evening. Please, I need to talk to you.”
It was Randi. I told her to sit down on the porch chair and I would be down as soon as I can get dressed. When I let her in, I could see that she looked tired.
She got a kind of snarky look on her face. Then she decided to eat shoe leather. She said sarcastically; “Well, I’m glad you had a good night.”
Without saying a word, I took hold of her arm and pushed her to the door, opened it and said; “Nice of you to stop by, now GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Then I closed the door and went back to bed.
The pounding restarted and continued for about 5 minutes. Then there was blissful silence. As I could not get back to sleep, I got up and got ready to face the weekend chores. I dressed in a set of Camo patterned surgical scrubs (my go-to grubbies) and went to the garage and started the lawnmower. I started to do the front when I looked at the porch and Randi was sitting on the chair and staring off into space.
I shut off the mower and walked up to her and sat down on the step near her. I was still angry, but I wanted to find out what was going on.
Before I could say anything, Randi started; “I’m sorry Robert, I’m all confused, and not at my best. When I found that my ex-boyfriend was sleeping with another girl he was dating behind my back, I was hurt. Then his saying that while he wanted to be with me, I would not have sex with him and he felt it was not worth the hassle trying to put up with my stance.”
“Before you say anything, I am and intend to stay a virgin. I made a promise to my mother when she got sick that I would deserve to wear white to my wedding.”
I held up my hand, stopping her from saying anything more. I said, “That’s admirable, but not any of my concern, I have just started to get to know you. You being hurt or not; I will not be your verbal punching bag. If you want to get to know me better, leave now, and call me in not less then two weeks. If I don’t hear from you after a month, I will survive, and go on with my life.”
“Now, before you start to go off on me,” I continued, “You are a fascinating lady and a great conversationalist. I want to get to know you better, but I need and want to know you if you are going to punish all men for one asshole. If you are, then there is nothing more we need to talk about.”
I then said before she could respond, “Please; just go away and think about what I just said. I am not going to go around looking for someone else, I do want to have a possibility for us to continue. If we are going to have a chance of that, you need to decide.”
Randi looked abashed and said; “You’re right, I feel we have a connection, but right now I am too angry about that asshole. I never meant or wanted to take it out on you. I will do as you ask, and believe me; 1 minute after the two weeks are up I will call. Thank you for not giving up on me. Goodbye for now. With that she kissed the top of my head and walked out to her car. She waved as she drove away.
She did not call after two weeks; not after three weeks; not after six weeks. I just went on with life. I lost nothing except a chance to find out if she was going to be a part of my life. I have never been big at dwelling on what might have been. However, I did think that there was something between us that I had desired to pursue.
After I thought I had moved on. I got a call from John at the company that licensed my inventions. Randi’s mother had died, and she was having a huge amount of problems with vultures trying to rape the estate. The reason Randi did not call is that she was arrested for taking a potshot at a sheriff’s deputy who tried to unlawfully evict her from the family farm. She was in jail for 90 days and the company just found out about it. They had a lawyer working on it.
The lawyer had told John that Randi had asked him to contact me. She wanted me to know that she had meant to call, but was prevented by circumstances.
I got the details, the key to the house, and as I was caught up with work; I drove to Randi’s farm and squatted. Things got interesting when I saw someone peering in the windows of the farmhouse. I went to the door and asked the person what was his business on private property.
He identified himself as a County Deputy and the owner had asked that their office keep an eye on the property.
I told the nosy deputy that I was protecting my girlfriend’s family interests and that unless he had a legitimate reason to come on this property that he should leave.
He started to puff up and I held up my hand and grabbed my phone. I asked to be connected to my brother-in-law, the local State Police watch commander. When I saw the deputy swallow and make a face as if he had just taken a dose of Cod Liver Oil.
I said loudly “Greg, this is Robert; I am at Randi Whitmore’s parent’s farm, and the local clowns they call the sheriff’s department have her locked up for shooting at one of their cowboys for trespassing ... Yes, there is some kind of plot going on here to screw the family out of Randi’s mother’s estate ... Ok you will call the State’s Attorney’s office and have them investigate ... Yes, Greg, that is a big help ... one last thing, can you have your roving patrols watch the homestead. I sort of surprised this sneaky brown-shirted clown coming on the property when he and his department know Randi is in the clink ... You will do all you can to get her released ... thanks Greg, tell my little sister you’re a great husband after she gets done beating your ass. Goodbye and thanks again.”
The deputy had a cold look of anger on his face and said. “I am going to arrest you for trespassing. Are you going to go willingly or do I have to get physical.”
When I started laughing, the deputy reached for his pistol. I held up my hands and said; “You should know that this entire property is under video surveillance. The recordings are copied immediately to a server off-site. Those records will show that I entered the house with a key. They will also show that I have made no threatening moves toward you. They will lastly show that if you draw that weapon, you will lose your job. Now if you are going to arrest me, I am entitled to a phone call. As I have my attorney on speed dial and I will call him, and when he has heard of your threat, and of my response he will own you. Do you still want to arrest me?”
The deputy removed his hand from his pistol and said; “No, I guess not. I will talk to the owner of the property and see if you have permission to be here.”
I started laughing again; “That is going to be hard to do as you know the owner is in a funeral home, and her daughter is in your jail. Her boss gave me the key. He is at this moment working to get her released.” I continued; “I do not know which of you hick clowns she shot at, but I will bet that the video records will show that whoever it had been not identifying him – or – herself. Your sheriff has no real grounds to hold her, and if I were her, I would own this county when this farce is over.”