Chapter 3: Last Week of June

The rest of the weekend was quiet. Steve spent Sunday refinishing the back deck and cleaning out the Jacuzzi. It kept him too busy to think and that was its own reward.

Sunday evening, he took a couple loads of Barbara's things over to her parent's house. They hadn't remembered Saturday to take anything with them.

No one had been home so he'd just off-loaded the boxes on the driveway right against the garage doors. Steve thought he saw Lloyd's car turning the corner down the street as Steve was driving away on the last trip, but he wasn't sure. He didn't care.

By the Tuesday following the confrontation, Barbara's parents had apparently recovered from the shock of seeing visual evidence of their daughter's infidelity. Steve guessed this was so because the phone calls started back up. There were three calls from Barbara Tuesday afternoon and one each from her parents. Steve didn't take any from Barbara but he returned the ones from Lloyd and Diane.

Wednesday saw twice as many calls, and when Steve got home Thursday, there were eighteen messages waiting for him. These were in addition to a couple on his cell phone, though he'd asked them not to call him on that number.

The general gist of the calls was that Barbara was deeply sorry she had hurt him; that he was exaggerating the significance of the photographs and videos; and couldn't he please find it in his heart to forgive what she'd been about to do so everyone could get on with things?

"Steve?"

"Hello, Lloyd," Steve said tiredly. When his cell phone rang, he'd automatically opened the flip top instead of checking the caller ID. It was late and he was tired. He wouldn't have taken the call if he'd known who it was.

"Yeah... listen, Steve, have you had time to think things over? Barbara's been crying just about non-stop and we... Diane and me... we were hoping you could find a way to sit down and talk things out with her sometime soon."

"Nah, Lloyd, I really haven't had time to think at all. I've been ass deep in alligators all week long with a bunch of problems down at the site... but it wouldn't have made any difference. The thing is... Barbara made a choice to cheat on me and this time it's final."

"Aw, Steve," his father-in-law said disappointedly, "I was hoping you might find a way to get over your mad and see some reason here."

Steve didn't say anything. His temper had flared at the suggestion he was being unreasonable. Still, he didn't want to say something he'd wish he hadn't someday.

"No, Lloyd," Steve said carefully, "I'm not ever going to get over my "mad," as you call it. Actually, I don't understand why you think I should.

"Consider this, Lloyd. How would you feel if Diane suddenly began seeing another man? Would you like to see Diane bare-assed naked climbing out of some guy's car one day? How would you like watching your wife kiss another man while he fondled her? Is that high on your list of things you want to do, Lloyd?"

"No..." Lloyd said after a brief pause. "I wouldn't like it very much but if I stopped it all from happening again... since I caught it in time... I think I would work with my wife to get past it and move on." Lloyd was quiet. So was Steve.

"Steve, don't you think you're overreacting a bit?" Lloyd finally asked. He said it in a rush, not really wanting to use the words he did, but forced to anyway. Steve bit his lip and counted to ten as his mother had made him when he was young. He had to do it again. Sometimes counting just to there wasn't enough.

"Lloyd," Steve said softly, "the next time I hear someone say "overreacting," I think I'm going to explode. I'm just telling you that so you can not be in the vicinity when I do it... sir." There was no reply.

"Now... Lloyd, I'm tired. It's been a long day and I need to get some sleep... so please don't call me again tonight, okay?"

"Ah... sure, Steve. I'm sorry, I didn't even notice how late it was, son... get some sleep and have a good day tomorrow, all right?"

"I will, Lloyd. Thanks. Goodnight."

He was exhausted but couldn't sleep. "Overreacting." The word had gotten a lot of use lately. After rolling around restlessly in the bed for thirty minutes, Steve got up and padded down the hall to the study. He got online and brought up his email program.

Overreacting? He knew what he'd seen. There wasn't any overreacting to that... not hardly.

Barbara was still in contact with this Mr. Porter and that stuck in Steve's craw. Well, she had been on Saturday and nothing had happened to change that. He knew... there was no proof, but he knew she was still talking to Porter and probably meeting him somewhere to boot. He had a good idea how to stop that. He'd been toying with it for a week now.

Taking out the three-ring binder given to him by the private detective agency, he flipped to the page he wanted. It took him two hours laboriously keying in all the information by hand, but it felt good when he finished. He'd feel the effects of the loss of sleep tomorrow... but tonight he was satisfied it had been worthwhile.

"Overreact?" he chuckled. "React to that, people."

She had been "served" leaving work yesterday afternoon and the world had come crunching down on her all over again. Seeing the words in black and white... reading legal documents petitioning the courts for a divorce between her and Steve was a blow she hadn't been prepared for.

This morning, she was unhappy, disoriented, and completely bewildered. She'd tried all last night to figure out how she'd gotten to where she was. It had been futile. Her mind was so clouded she could barely think. She hadn't slept but a couple of hours.

On the way to work, she realized the gas tank was almost empty and had to stop at a gas station. She was afraid to try and make it all the way in with the red light flashing on the instrument panel. Steve used to take care of things like that. It had been so long, she had had to read the instructions just to get her credit card in the slot correctly.

Tired and confused, she hadn't seen the card needed to be yanked out quickly and she'd had to cancel the first couple of transactions. Then she discovered she'd forgotten to push the button in the glove box to unlock the fueling door. She hoped this wouldn't be an experience she'd have to repeat very often.

If Steve would just come to his senses, things could get back to normal. After all, she hadn't actually had sex with Rafe. Well, she hadn't let him stick his stupid thing in her mouth... or down there either. Rafe was too nice a guy to push her into anything she hadn't wanted and had told her they would go slow. No pressure, he'd said. She still wondered if she would have done it that afternoon Steve had destroyed Rafe's car.

Rafe was still in a rage about that. Steve had no call to do that, Rafe said. It was completely over the top... uncivilized. Still, he hadn't called the police or anything. All he'd done that day in the park was reach back into the car for his cell phone on the dash and call for a tow truck. He was thinking of suing Steve, he said, but as far as Barbara knew, he hadn't done it yet.

She was confused about everything that had happened to her lately, bewildered about where her life was going, and beset with small tasks she didn't normally have to deal with. Her mind jumped from one thing to another without giving her a chance to rest on any one topic long enough to think it through.

By the time she finally got to work, her nerves were pretty well shot. She was late, and she hated that. It made for a bad start and it always seemed to set the tone for the whole day. Nothing was going right lately.

When she got up to the sixth floor, she felt like everyone was watching her. She was a little sensitive about that anyway but today, it was worse. After Steve went so overboard last week, she'd felt like she was being spied on all the time. It was uncomfortable. Now everyone was looking at her. It was creepy. Was there a private investigator still tracking her every move?

"Hi, Barb," Tom said. He craned his neck to look behind her down the aisle between the cubicles. "No one with you today?" he inquired. His face was bland, but Barbara saw something in his eyes.

"Hi... no... not at all," she replied, perplexed.

She turned to look behind her down the passageway to see a number of other employees watching her and her coworker. She didn't really understand Tom's question and she was doubly surprised to see people standing in the walkway watching her. Two of them, women Barbara didn't like... and who didn't like her overly much... both had nasty grins on their faces. Unsettled, she gave Tom a final glance and continued on her way.

"Hello, Barb," Katy said. "You're all alone today?" Unlike Tom, Katy didn't stop for conversation. She continued on her way, having tossed the comment at Barbara as she passed. Barbara was uneasy. Something was going on and she didn't know what it was.

Suddenly June was at her elbow, hurrying her along to June's desk.

"Come on... don't talk... just come," June remarked when Barbara opened her mouth. She didn't like this hurrying around. It wasn't dignified. Her skirt kept riding up. She blushed. She'd wanted to wear a longer one but all of those were among the ones Steve had crammed in those boxes and they still were waiting to be taken to the dry cleaners.

This skirt was one Rafe had bought her. She usually felt naughty wearing it, but she didn't like that feeling today. Sometimes Rafe and his suggestions wore a little thin.

June hustled Barbara inside June's tiny cubicle and made her sit in front of the computer station. Taking a deep breath, June clicked on her email.

"Barb, honey, I don't know what's going on with you and... well, with anything, but this must have been sent to every single person in the whole building."

June clicked on an email with the forbidding subject line of "Have You Seen This Man And Woman?" When it opened, June scrolled down until Barbara could see the text.

"Have you seen this man and woman? They are both cheating on their spouses and have been for a long time. If you see Barbara Curtis and Raphael Porter together, please call the number shown below to report when and where you saw them. All calls will be held in the strictest confidence."

Uncomprehending, Barbara read the message again. June scrolled down to reveal side-by-side pictures of Barbara and Raphael. Beneath them was the home phone number Barbara and Steve had shared for the past four years.

"Oh God... oh God... oh God," Barbara moaned. She didn't know what to do. She looked up to see Bill, all six feet and seven scrawny inches of him peering over the partition. He pantomimed searching all around while glancing repeatedly at a printout of the notice. Pretending disappointment because there was no one there besides June and Barbara, he slowly lowered himself into his seat. At one point, he'd stopped with only his eyes and forehead over the cubicle wall.

Barbara fumbled her cell phone out of her purse clicked the speed dial number for home. Holding back the tears, she looked up at June apologetically while the connection to her... formerly... home phone was made. It was ringing on the other end.

"Steve!" she said sotto voce. "Damn you," she whispered, cupping her hand before her mouth so no one else would hear. "Damn you... pick up," she said impatiently. It rang twice more before Barbara heard a series of two clicks as the answering machine cut in.

"Hi... you have reached the Infidelity Hotline." It was Steve's voice. Barbara knew it well. There was a new note in it now though. Something unfriendly.

"If you have seen Raphael Porter kissing, holding, making out with, fondling, squeezing any body part, having sex, or just hanging with Barbara Curtis, please stay on the line. Your call is very important to us.

At the beep, please give the date, time, location, and what type of cheating activity they were involved in when you saw these two cheating spouses together. Remember, all information you provide is completely anonymous. No representative will visit your home. Thank you for your concern and support."

Barbara heard the shrill beep in her ear. She knew the answering machine was recording but she couldn't think. She had nothing to say. Terminating the call, she pressed the first option on the speed dial. She needed to talk to someone else. She waited impatiently for the half second between the phone being picked up and a voice answering.

"Daddy?" she asked forlornly.

Steve had heard the phone ring, but he ignored it. He'd already received twenty-eight calls, most of them just prank calls with no information. A few had been abusive, wondering why he couldn't keep his wife from going out on him. Those bothered him. He wondered just how the callers would suggest a man keep tabs on a woman twenty-four hours a day and still have a life. That kind of call bothered him, but they were so patently ridiculous he dismissed them quickly. The answering machine picked up the latest call and he lifted his fingers from the laptop keyboard to listen for a moment.