Part 2

Chapter 7: The House

Having Trish and Brandon living in our house complicated our lives considerably but Megan never complained and I just kept my mouth shut, so it was a real surprise when it was Trish that started complaining that our house wasn't big enough for the four of us. I didn't know what Trish expected me to do about that but I soon found out.

One afternoon I stopped by the house for lunch because it was one of Megan's days off. I was pleased to find that Trish wasn't home.

"Where's that sweet mother of yours?" I said.

"Don't start that," Megan said. "Trish is out with a real estate agent looking at houses."

"Is she planning to buy a house?" I asked. "Where the hell would she get the money?"

"I don't know what she is doing," Megan said. "She didn't tell me her plans."

"She doesn't have any money. How can she buy a house? I hope she doesn't expect me to buy it for her," I said.

"Maybe she's ready to go back to work. Wouldn't it be worth helping her with a down payment so that she could move into a house of her own."

"That would be nice," I said, "but I don't think we can afford to give her enough money for a down payment."

That wasn't exactly true. Ever since my first day on the job at Clifton Digital Services, I had been buying company stock every chance I got. I usually spent half of my quarterly bonus to purchase more CDS stock. The price of the stock when I first started buying was $12 a share and remained in the mid-teens to the low twenties until two years ago when it took off and was now selling for just over $85 a share. Over the pervious six years I had accumulated 1,835 shares of CDS worth almost $156,000. I really didn't want to cash out my stock to buy a house for Trish.

This conversation went on all through lunch with Megan trying to convince me that it would be a good idea to help Trish buy a house. By the time I headed back to the office I was starting to see things from Megan's point of view. It might be worth loaning Trish twenty or thirty thousand to have our house back and be rid of Trish and Brandon.

When I got home from work that evening Trish and Megan were waiting for me in the kitchen. They both appeared to be excited about something.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Trish found a house," Megan said.

"I want us all to go over and see it right after dinner," Trish said.

I was still worried about what this would cost me but I was also excited about the idea that we might be getting Trish out of the house.

After dinner Trish went to her room to change clothes and while Megan and I were alone in the kitchen I asked her, "What do you know about this house?"

"Nothing. Mom wouldn't tell me anything. She said she wants it to be a big surprise," Megan replied.

I started to get an uneasy feeling although I had no idea why.

The four of us got into Megan's car, Megan and I in the front with Brandon and Trish in the back. Trish was leaning forward with her head between us as she gave me directions to her mystery house. Knowing that Trish wasn't wearing her seat belt made me want to crash the car into a tree and launch her through the windshield, but I resisted that urge.

As I followed Trish's directions I began to notice that the houses we were passing were getting bigger and more expensive. Trish couldn't possibly be thinking of buying a house in such and expensive neighborhood, or could she? After all, it was Trish who found this house.

After making a right hand turn at Trish's direction I could see the Tudor style clubhouse of the Kenwood Country Club up the street about a quarter mile. Suddenly Trish yelled, "Here, stop right here."

At first I thought she had to be joking but then I saw the "For Sale' sign in the yard. The house was a white colonial with black shutters and looked to be about 4,000 square feet.

"You can't be serious. You can't afford a house like this," I said.

"Mother, is this really the house you wanted us to look at?" Megan asked.

"Wow, this is great," Brandon said.

"Come on, you have to see the inside," Trish said as she climbed out of the car and headed up the sidewalk.

"Has your mother lost her mind?" I asked Megan. "She can't possibly believe that she can afford to live here."

That's when the bad feeling I had earlier came back. I suddenly knew what Trish was up to. She expected me to sell my house and buy this one so we could all live there. I just hoped that Megan would be strong enough to stand with me against her mother in this matter.

I followed the others into the house. I have to admit that the house was beautiful but it was way beyond anything I would ever have considered. I could see the excitement in Trish's eyes as she led Megan around the house. I think it was when Trish told Megan that the house had a master bedroom suite on the first floor and four bedrooms and three full bathrooms on the second floor that Megan finally caught on to what Trish had in mind.

"You want us to buy this house?" Megan asked her mother.

"Yes. It would be wonderful. It's in a much better neighborhood than our current house," Trish said.

"Our current house?" I thought to myself. "Since when does this bag of wind get to call my house 'our house'?"

"I don't think we can afford a house like this," Megan said.

Trish didn't say anything for a moment. She just led Megan and Brandon to the windows at the back of the family room and then opened the drapes. Outside the window was a twenty-foot by forty-foot swimming pool complete with diving board.

"Isn't that beautiful? Can't you see yourself lying out by the pool with a cold drink?"

Megan didn't seem to be able to respond but Brandon had no problem voicing his opinion.

"This is great, mom. Let's get rid of that old dump and move in here," Brandon yelled much louder than necessary for all of us to hear him.

I wanted very much to give Brandon a tour of the bottom of the pool at that moment. I would even have taken his mother with us.

I looked over at Megan and said, "We can't possibly afford this."

"Sure we can," Trish butted in. "Between the two of you, you have over sixty thousand in savings and Warren has over 150 thousand in CDS stock. Our real estate agent said that we could get at least 370 thousand for our house and 230 thousand of that is equity. That would give us 440 thousand for a down payment. This house is only 760 thousand.

"That would mean you would have to get a mortgage loan for 320 thousand at the current rate of 5.7 percent, which would make the payments on the house about $1,860 a month. With your combined incomes we can afford to do that."

I could not believe my ears. We can? Where does she get this we shit? She hadn't contributed one damn dime to help with our expenses. She talks about our house as if she helps make the payments and our real estate agent? I didn't hire an agent so her agent isn't ours. And how in hell did she know so much about our finances. She had to have gone through all of my files and bank statements. I was pissed but I didn't say anything because I could see that Megan was pissed too, but she was pissed at me.

"Why didn't I know about that $150,000 in CDS stock?" Megan asked.

"I was saving that so we could start a family," I said.

"I think you already have a family that you need to be taking care of right here," Trish said.

"Mom! This is between Warren and me," Megan said as she stood up to her mother for the first time I could remember.

"I am sorry, sweetie. I just thought that the four of us are a family and we should discuss this as a family," Trish said.

Knowing Megan was angry that I had kept my company stock holdings a secret from her, I decided to remain silent for a while and hopefully Megan would tell Trish that buying the house was out of the question.

"Just think about it Megan. Wouldn't you love to live in this neighborhood?" Trish asked. "Just think of the great parties you could have here. The country club is just down the street. We could join the club and meet all the right people in Cincinnati."

"There is no way we are joining the country club," I said when I couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer.

"We don't have to join right away," Trish said. "We can wait till next year and use one of your bonus checks for the initiation fee."

I looked to Megan for help but she was looking out the window at the pool with a smile on her lips and a far away look in her eyes. I knew then that Trish had won again.

We actually did better on the sale of our old house and got the seller to come down ten thousand on the new house.

Chapter 8: Special Assignments

At work I had noticed a strange trend in the way work assignments were being handled. Most of the RFPs that were placed in the In Basket were for contracts ranging in value from $100 thousand to nearly one million dollars. During the last six months of 1999. Thad Asshole, as I like to call Thad, began giving me special assignments. Three or four times a month he would call me into his office and hand me an RFP he wanted me to work on. The interesting thing about the RFPs he gave me was that the contract values for these RFPs were much higher than the usually RFPs in the In Basket. Over that six-month period, Thad gave me seven RFPs with contract values of over ten million dollars each. There were six others that were in the five million dollar range.

I was curious as to why Thad was giving me all of the important RFPs to work. When I approached him about this Thad said, "I give you these high value RFPs because I know you will get them done faster than anyone else in the department. I also give them to you to help you get some recognition for the work you do. It might help you get that sales position you want."

Thad's answer made sense but he was such a sleaze ball that I wasn't sure if I should believe him.

One thing I didn't tell Thad during our meeting was that I wasn't sure if I was still interested in trying to get a sales position. I had come to the conclusion that it was never going to happen and although I hated my job I could not complain about the money I was making. Thad managed to get me a nice raise each year and he gave me some incentive awards during the year. On top of that the bonuses were very nice. I had learned to accept that what I was doing was not a career but just a job, a well paying job but still just a job. I went to work everyday, did the best I could and went home at night, just like any other assembly line worker.

Chapter 9: The Country Club

It was early December 1999 when Trish made her next winning move against me. We had just sat down to dinner when Trish said, "I was over at the country club today. I talked to the head of the membership committee. I told him we might be interested in joining. He told me they would be glad to have us as members but that we would have to act fast as they only had two memberships available. If we didn't get one of those before someone else did we would have to wait until another member decided to sell their membership before we would be able to join."

Once again Trish acted precipitously. Talking action without discussing things with me first was so common for Trish that I was no longer surprised by her actions. I was just about to say that there was no way we were joining the country club when Megan said, "Honey, I think we should do it. If we miss out on those memberships that are available, who knows how long it will be before we get another chance to join.

So two days later I found myself sitting with Bob Haversham, head of the membership committee.

"Are there any memberships available?" I asked.

"There's just one left," he replied.

I really didn't want to buy the membership but I knew there would be hell to pay if I went home without the membership card.

"The initiation fee is $10,000. The monthly membership dues for a family membership are $225 a month. You also have to buy $150 in restaurant chits each month," Haversham said.

"What happens to your initiation fee if you decide to give up your membership later on?" I asked as I signed the membership agreement.

"If you decide to quit, you can sell your membership," Haversham said.

"How do you do that?"

"We would help you do that. How much you could get for your membership would depend on how much someone is willing to pay for it. Depending on demand you might get all of your money back or even make a small profit," Haversham replied.

"That's good to know."

"Why? Are you already planning to quit?" Haversham asked with a laugh.

"Only if someone offers me more than I paid," I said.

Chapter 10: The Beginning of the End

The year 2000 started off as a good year. Megan had taken a new job at an out patient surgery center and was permanently on the day shift working four ten hour days Monday through Thursday making every weekend a three day weekend for her. With the bigger house came more privacy for Megan and me, which equated to us having more opportunities to be intimate. Now that Megan had weekends off she was able to go to Lexington with me to visit Kate every weekend. Trish had stopped making negative comments about my job and me, although she didn't have anything positive to say about either topic. It also helped that Trish was still going out at least two nights a week but she had still not looked into getting a job. Life wasn't what I wanted it to be but it was more tolerable than it had been.

The first blow up of 2000 was on Brandon. Brandon, at fifteen years old, was now a full-grown pain in my ass. Trish had spoiled him rotten and in her eyes he could do no wrong. It was obvious to me even if it wasn't to Megan that Trish loved Brandon more than Megan.

Returning home from work one evening I was greeted by the sound of someone playing an electric guitar in Brandon's room. It was loud and being played very badly.

"Who is making that noise?" I asked.

"Brandon is playing guitar," Trish said proudly.

"You call that playing a guitar. It sounds more like he is strangling a cat," I said. "When did he get a guitar?"

"It came today," Trish said.

I didn't say anything but I was once again pissed. Now I was going to have to listen to Brandon playing guitar in my house. Where did he get the money to buy a guitar in the first place?

That night in bed I asked Megan about the guitar.

"I don't know. Maybe he bought it from a friend at school," she said.

"I hope he didn't pay much because he isn't very good," I said.

"Give him a chance to learn."

"I hope it doesn't take too long. I don't know how long my nerves can stand that noise he's making."

The blow up came three days later when I got my Visa bill and found a $550 charge paid to an online musical instrument store. I called the 800 number listed on my Visa statement and spoke to a sales operator at Guitarworld, com. I gave him the date of the charge, the amount and the charge card number and he told me that Warren Butterfield placed the order for a guitar and an amplifier.

When I got off the phone I was livid. Brandon had taken my credit card and used it to buy his guitar. I was ready to call the police on him. When I told Trish what Brandon had done she said, "My Brandon isn't a thief."

"Well, what do you call it when a person uses someone else's credit card to buy something without the permission of the owner of the credit card?" I asked.

"Brandon had permission to buy the guitar," Trish said.

Megan heard the loud discussion and came into the kitchen where Trish and I were talking.

"Did you tell Brandon he could use my credit card to buy that guitar?" I asked Megan.

"No. What are you talking about?"

"Brandon took my credit card from my wallet and bought that guitar and amp online. He charged $550 on my credit card. Trish said he had permission to use my card to buy the guitar. Did you give him permission?"

"No."

"I did," Trish said.

"You told Brandon that he could take my credit card and buy a guitar? Don't you think you should have discussed it with me first?" I asked. Stupid question, I know.

"What's the big deal? Brandon really wanted that guitar and it was only $550."

I looked at Megan and could see that she was torn. She didn't know whose side to be on.

"Look, Brandon is a good boy and he deserves to have a guitar if he wants one. I didn't have the money to buy it for him so he used your credit card," Trish said.

I looked back at Megan and she made a small gesture indicating that I should just let it go. To keep peace in the house I let it drop but decided that from that moment on my credit cards would be locked in my safe when not in my pocket. I didn't believe Trish. I was sure that Brandon had just decided on his own to steal from me and I wasn't going to let it happen again.

The next blow up was on Trish. Megan had started taking tennis lessons at the club and had dragged me down there one night to play tennis with her. While we were away from the house Buck and Mace stopped by to see if I wanted to go out for a beer with them. I found out a few days later that Trish had told them that they should leave me alone. She told them that I was moving up in the world and I was making contacts at the country club that could help me in the future and that Buck and Mace were holding me back.

She actually told them, "Warren is too polite to tell you to go away, but it is what he really wants."

When Buck told me what she had said I went ballistic. When I got home that night Trish and I had a big fight about what she had told Buck and Mace. I told her if she ever spoke to my friends that way again I would kick her ass out of the house.

"Megan! Are you going to let him talk to me that way?" Trish said as she put a hurt expression on her face.

"You shouldn't have said that to Buck and Mace. They're our friends," Megan said.

I was glad to see she was talking my side but then she turned on me. "Warren, don't ever speak to my mother in that tone again." When Megan called me Warren I knew she was serious.

The next evening when I got home from work I found Megan in the kitchen getting dinner started.

"Where's Trish?"

"She's out by the pool," Megan replied.

"Good. We need to talk about her. Don't you think it's about time that she and Brandon get a place of their own?"

"Butter, you know she doesn't have any money. My father left her with nothing. I can't push my mother and brother out into the street."

"God damn Harold. He dodges his responsibilities and I get stuck with them. If I ever get my hands on him I'll kick his spine up through his hat."

"Calm down, honey. Things aren't really that bad are they?" Megan said.

"Not that bad? I am living in a house that I didn't want; I belong to a country club that I never wanted to belong to. I have no peace or privacy in my own home and it's all because we have the wicked witch of the west and her son, the Artful Dodger, living with us."

"Warren, I will not have you talk about my mother that way. She is just having a hard time right now."

"Okay, I'll give this a little more time but there has to be an end to this. I am only doing this for you. I have put up with your mother and Brandon for long enough. I'll give Trish till the end of this year to get a job and find a place of her own. You mother should be able to get a teaching job by then and Brandon can get a job so I don't have to give him the spending money that he hasn't already stolen from me."

Megan looked at me but didn't respond.

"The end of this year," I said and turned and walked out of the kitchen.

When I walked into the family room I found Trish standing at the door that leads out to the pool deck. The expression on her face was the same as it always was when she looked at me; she looked like she was sucking on a lemon. As I left the room I wonder how much, if any, of the conversation I just had with Megan had Trish heard? I wasn't sure if I even cared.

Chapter 11: The Grind

I was very busy at work handling the normal day-to-day proposals as well as the bigger RFPs that Thad had assigned me. At work I felt numb. It was as if I was a robot. I followed my programming and did the jobs as I was instructed to do them. I didn't think about things that were going on outside of work; in fact, I seemed to do very little thinking when I was at work. That can't be a good thing, can it?

Thad Asshole called me in for my appraisal. He told me that I consistently exceeded requirements and he was very happy with my job performance.

"I am pleased that you are doing so well. Brad Martin has taken a new post so there will be a new sales manager soon. When the new manager is named I will talk to him about you," Thad said.

I smiled and said, "Thanks, Thad. That would be great. I can't wait to get home and tell Megan that I got such a good appraisal."

Of course, that was the robot talking. Saying the words that were expected of him. There was one upside to this: Thad managed to get me a pretty nice pay raise to go along with my appraisal. I did like the money but the rest was bullshit.

Chapter 12: Trish Stirs the Pot

When I told Megan about my appraisal and the associated pay raise she got a lot more excited than expected. Before I could stop her she started bragging to Trish about how well I was doing at work and what a nice raise I got. I guess Megan felt that she needed to say something positive about me to counter all the negative comments her mother had been making about me.

"Good, now maybe he can buy you a decent car to drive," was Trish's response.

"What's wrong with the car she's driving?" I asked. I immediately wished I had kept my mouth shut.

"You make her drive a ten year old Toyota..."

"It's only seven years old," I interrupted.

"It's still an old car," Trish said. "Megan should be driving a new car. She should have a Lexus, like mine only new."

"A Lexus?" I said. "Her Toyota runs good. Why does she need a new car?"

Megan was very quiet during this exchange with Trish.

"Megan needs to improve her image," Trish said. "She lives in an upscale neighborhood and belongs to an exclusive country club. The car she drives should reflect her social status. Driving a ten year old Toyota is bad for her image."

"It's only seven years old," I said.

"Whatever. It's just doesn't fit the image of someone of our social status," Trish said.

I looked at Megan for some help but she wouldn't even look at me.

"Just what social status are you talking about?" I said. "Megan and I aren't millionaires. We are just ordinary working people."

"You may consider yourself ordinary, and you're probably right, but my daughter is better than that. I think you owe it to her to help her fit in and to be accepted by neighbors and the members of the country club."

"Is that what you want, Megan? To fit in with the stuffed shirts at the club?" I said.

"I would like to have a new car. Mine is getting old and we can afford to replace it now," was Megan's response.

I was pissed but I knew that I had lost so I left the room. Two days later I signed the lease agreement for a 2000 Lexus. As I looked over the terms of the lease agreement I wonder how in the hell I had lost complete control of my life.

Once a month the country club had a dinner dance. These dances were one of the few events at the club that I really enjoyed. I always enjoyed dancing with Megan. The way she seemed to melt into my arms and lean her head against my chest as we danced made me feel that all was right with the world. It also helped that Trish wasn't there to spoil my mood.

On the Saturday afternoon of the April dinner dance Megan asked me to play tennis with her. Megan had been taking lessons for a few months and her game was much better than mine. I was doing my best to provide her with some competition but I was nearing exhaustion when I went after a shot that landed just inside the right sideline. As I stretched to reach the ball with my racket I stumbled and rolled over my right ankle.

My ankle started to swell even before I made it off the court. Megan got me a bag of ice and we used an ace bandage to secure it to my ankle. Megan then helped me to the car and we drove home. It was obvious to me that Megan felt bad about what happened. She kept telling me how sorry she was that I got hurt but I knew it was my own fault. I was the one who fell. Megan didn't trip me.

When we got home I lay down on the sofa in the family room with the ice bag still on my ankle. A few minutes later Trish came into the room and looked at me and then without speaking to me she went into the kitchen where Megan was fixing me a drink.

"So what happened to him?" I heard Trish say to Megan.

"He sprained his ankle playing tennis."

"How convenient. Now he can get out of taking you to the dinner dance tonight."

"He didn't do it on purpose. It was more my fault than his. He isn't a good tennis player and I pushed him a little too hard. He got tired and that's when he fell," Megan said.

"He should know his limitations," Trish said. "He should let you play with the guys at the club that are better players than him."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Megan said.

"The only reason he plays tennis with you is because he doesn't want you playing with the other guys at the club. He's afraid one of them might seduce you."

"That's ridiculous."

"Don't tell me, tell your husband." Trish said.

Trish was trying to make Megan think that I didn't trust her but why? I had never acted like a jealous husband and there was no reason for Trish to think I was. Why would she want to plant that seed in Megan's head?

I painfully got to my feet and hobbled out to the kitchen to defend myself before Trish could do any real damage to my marriage.

"I guess you won't be going to the dinner dance tonight then," Trish was saying just as I reached the kitchen door.

"Warren can't walk on that..." Megan was saying as I entered and cut her off.

"Who said anything about not going to the dinner dance," I said. "I may not be able to dance but we are still going."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Megan asked.

"Of course," I said as I struggled to keep the pain from showing in my face. "We'll have a nice dinner and listen to the music."

I think I knew what Trish had been trying to do. She wanted me to tell Megan she should go to the dance without me. I am not sure what she hoped to accomplish by doing that but I wasn't about to let things go the way Trish wanted them to go. I didn't wait to hear what Trish was going to say next. I turned and headed for my bedroom as fast as I could hop on one leg.

Chapter 13: Carl Tredwell

I was walking around the house on the crutches Megan had picked up that afternoon, trying to get used to them when Megan came out of the bedroom. She was wearing her little black cocktail dress and she looked beautiful. I felt bad that I wouldn't be able to dance with her but I hoped that we would be able to make love when we got back home.

I was still thinking about this when I heard Trish coming down the stairs. I was surprised to see her all dressed up for an evening out.

"Got a date tonight, Trish?" I said.

"No. I am going to the dance with you and Megan," Trish said. "Maybe I'll meet someone there."

Now my evening was completely ruined. I couldn't dance with Megan and the devil's evil sister was going to the dance with us. She apparently was not satisfied that my ankle was causing me enough pain.

Dinner was as pleasant as it could be with the dragon lady sitting across the table from me. Things improved greatly after dinner, at least for a short while. When the dishes were cleared from the table Trish got up and wandered off somewhere leaving me alone with Megan. Megan sat close to me and leaned her head on my shoulder as we listened to the music. It wasn't quite as good as dancing with her but having her close to me like that was nice.

Trish gave us about an hour of peace before she came back to the table. With her was a guy I recognized from the club. His name was Carl Tredwell. He was about my age and I knew that he was divorced but that is about all I knew about him.

"You know Carl Tredwell, don't you?" Trish said, more to Megan than me. "I found him sitting at the bar all by himself so I invited him to come sit with us."

I knew that Trish was up to something. Trish is fifty years old and Tredwell was in his early thirties. I was sure that Trish wasn't making a play for him so why did she bring him over to our table. I had my suspicions but I didn't say anything.

Carl sat down across from Megan and thanked us for letting him join us at our table. For the next twenty minutes we talked and listened to the music. Carl seemed like a nice guy but I still wondered why he was at our table. I soon found out.