Chapter 1

Slowly I became aware of my surroundings again as my thoughts began to emerge from the fog in my mind. The ominous semi-darkness of my basement workshop, lit only by the light from the partially open door reflected my mood.

One of my racquets that I had been working on earlier was still locked into a vise on the workbench. I could hear the sounds of our two youngest on the other side of the partition wall playing in the rec room and the Disney movie they were watching on the VCR.

As I sat there in my old beat up recliner I glanced up at the clock on the wall. I had been sitting there for over a half hour my thoughts spinning in circles, unmoving, unseeing, trying to understand what I wished I hadn't heard.

Sunday evening dinner was over. My wife Sally was cleaning up the kitchen and dishes and I had gone down to my workroom to re-grip several of my racquets for the upcoming fall racquetball leagues. I had been an avid player for seven, eight years now, playing several mornings a week before reporting to work as an engineer at GM. I also played in at least one evening league every fall, winter and spring session.

It was a matter of pride to me that I had gotten pretty good in that relatively short period of time and always played in the 'A' brackets. And I competed in local tournaments several times a year usually finishing near the top. Playing racquetball consistently kept my weight at about two hundred pounds spread over my six foot two frame.

Our seven year old daughter, Jessie had followed me down to watch her favorite movie in the play room and the baby, Allison, age four had followed her. Allie was at the age where Jessie couldn't go anywhere without Allie wanting to go too. Lucky for us Jessie didn't seem to mind yet. I was dreading the day when she got older and that would change.

Our son, Jason, nine years old now, was very much aware that he was a boy, and the oldest, and shouldn't be expected to play with his little sisters. He was probably up in his room building or playing with his model planes and cars.

Fortunately Jason took after me and many of the Robinson clan in looks. Brown hair, hazel eyes with a strong chin and prominent, but not overly large nose. Jessie had Sally's red hair and delicate features. Allie had blond hair and while early yet, she appeared to have a blend of both of our features.

I finally finished the grips on the three racquets that I kept in my gym bag and was feeling the string tension thinking that a couple of them could stand to be restrung. It was Murphy's Law that you could always count on a string breaking at least once a week in the middle of a league match.

I looked in on the girls and they were right in the middle of 'Lady and the Tramp' so I decided to wander back upstairs. As I climbed the stairs in my stocking feet and got close to the partially open basement door I could hear the soft murmur of Sally talking on the telephone. The thought occurred to me that maybe I could sneak up on her and get a little grab-ass. I had thoughts of being able to set the mood for something later on even though we had already gotten our usual weekend mattress time the morning before.

As I approached the door I peeked through the opening to see where she was. Perfect! I grinned in glee. Sally was leaning on her elbows on the kitchen counter with her butt clad in tight jeans pointing right at me and holding the phone up to her ear. Her blouse was un-tucked and hanging loose and I could see her bare midriff and just a hint of her bra. Her red hair was in a pony tail that bobbed up and down as she talked.

Even after three kids and ten years of marriage Sally was still hot. She stood about 5' 6", and kept her weight under 130 through regular exercise and eating right. Age and maturity had softened her curves somewhat but she was sexier now than when we married. She was twenty-three then and I was only a year older. The kids may have slowed down our sex lives over the years but we usually managed to eke out some time for ourselves a couple times a week.

Now the view of that wonderful pear shaped ass and long tapered legs was starting to give me definite stiffening in my groin. As I slowly eased the door open wider I could hear some of the conversation that was taking place on the phone.

" ... on the schedule for Tuesday and Thursday from nine until three." I heard her say. There was a pause as she listened to what the other person was saying.

"Yeah, I can talk. Phil's down in the basement with the girls. Why?"

"Yep, I think so too, Debbie. I've been thinking about that a lot lately."

"This coming weekend? I don't think we have anything on the calendar. I could probably do it."

Ahhh! Now I know. She was talking to her friend and boss, Debbie Bradshaw. It sounded like they were setting up another one of their regular weekend shopping trips that happened three, four times a year.

I slowly pushed the door open further and started to step out to make a quick lunge for the prize beckoning me when suddenly I stopped, puzzled by a strange sound. Sally giggled! What the hell? Then she giggled again as she listened to something Debbie was saying. What surprised the hell out of me was that I couldn't remember Sally ever giggling like that since our honeymoon.

Then she lowered her voice and I could just make out, " ... sure like to try that thing again before the wart comes off."

Suddenly that comment brought to mind a conversation I was party to in a bar a couple of months before. I started to feel dizzy and light-headed. I eased back onto the basement step and slowly pulled the door almost shut behind me. As I did so Sally continued to laugh and practically whisper into the phone. I could only make a word here and there, " ... last time ... really had me going ... I know, I know ... yeah ... both of them? ... tell him we'll see ... uh-uh, can't wait!"

I stood there in the darkness of the stairwell as she started to wrap up the conversation. Suddenly I didn't want her to know that I was there so I turned and quietly made my way back down the stairs and staggered into my workshop. I collapsed into my chair as I thought about that conversation that I had been reminded of.

It had occurred last spring after one of the last matches in our Wednesday night racquetball league. Several of us went to a bar afterwards for a couple of beers which we did about once a month. After an hour or so there was only myself, John Harrison and Craig Davis left. John and Craig were best friends and had joined the Oak Park Y only a couple of years before.

John was quite a beer drinker but Craig was strictly a soft drink guy. Eventually I found out he was an alcoholic and had quit drinking some years ago. From what I heard the only part of his alcoholism that was a problem was he couldn't get it up after a couple of beers, which apparently annoyed his wife plenty. But he still enjoyed the bar scene and would join the crowd whenever there was an opportunity. Both were married, John had two kids and Craig had one.

As usual, after discussing the matches for awhile the jokes and talk would turn to sex and women. After a dozen times in the bar with those two I had figured out that they didn't have any scruples about fooling around. And a couple of times they seemed to take an unusual interest in my marriage and my sex life to the point that it made me uncomfortable. On at least one occasion I had left after one beer just to avoid the subject.

On this particular night Craig was razzing John about his wife, Mary. She was insisting that he have a surgical procedure of a very personal nature. I thought he was talking about a vasectomy and chimed in that Sally was talking about me having it done so she could quit talking the pill. But so far we hadn't come to an agreement.

Craig just kept grinning as John got this pained look on his face. "Oh, no, she wants him to have the wart removed!" Craig said practically belly laughing.

Looking puzzled I said "I guess I'm lost. What are you talking about?"

John got a little red in the face but explained that ever since puberty he had had an everyday, garden variety wart on the top of his penis about half way down or about four inches back from the tip. This time I laughed. I had seen him in the shower, not close enough to notice a wart but close enough to know there was no way he was packing eight inches, soft or hard.

He admitted that over the last couple of years that the wart had grown some and it was starting to freak his wife out. John was insistent that the wart served a valuable purpose. When having sex in the missionary position and with the right angle his wart was perfectly positioned to stimulate the clitoris. He referred to it somewhat crudely as his 'clit tickling pussy pleaser'. His wife, Mary was insisting that he had to have it taken off. Even if it meant it she lost something in the transaction.

It seemed to me John didn't as much object to his wife missing out as he objected to loosing an advantage he had when going after other women. Apparently his wart often became a topic of discussion and invited a certain amount of curiosity when trying to talk women other than his wife into bed. About that time I decided the crap was getting too deep for me and decided to hit the road.

Now I sat in the dark thinking about that conversation. I just couldn't believe Sally could be involved in anything that her phone call was suggesting. Sally knew John and Craig were someone I played racquetball with. I had talked about them several times before and their names were usually on the match schedules I kept with our calendar. But as far as I knew they had never met.

But the dots kept trying to connect themselves no matter how much I tried to deny it. I had this sinking feeling in my gut that I was in the dark here and felt myself breaking into a sweat. I just couldn't believe that Sally would do such a thing and was desperately hoping there was some plausible explanation. And whatever was going on Debbie apparently was involved too.

Sally's boss, Debbie Bradshaw had become the assistant store manager where Sally worked about five years before. She had transferred from corporate headquarters down around Detroit. She had previously worked in this same store just after college before rotating to the big city in order to get management training. Debbie was married to Josh, a CPA she met while working in Detroit. Sally had mentioned to me that Josh was her second husband.

Sally and Debbie were around the same age and had gotten friendly when Sally was pregnant for Allie. Debbie was pregnant at the same time for their daughter Shannon, their first and so far only child. Both kids were born within a month of each other which brought Debbie and Sally even closer together.

We had socialized with Debbie and Josh a few times over the years, usually at some work related event of Debbie's and Sally's. We didn't inhabit the same social circles and were probably a step down financially from the level they were at. Debbie was a smart, beautiful, green-eyed blond. But it always seemed to me she had to be the center of attention. Josh seemed to be a nice enough guy. But I always thought his primary focus was on his work.

John and Craig had both joined the Y racquetball league about two years before. John owned a construction business and Craig was the managing partner of a residential building company. The senior partner was his father-in-law. We were all about the same age, married and having families so we had a lot in common. But strangely enough the only time we socialized was during racquetball or the occasions when we stopped for a couple of beers afterwards. Our families had never met.

As often happens when you start hanging around with new people you start discovering you have friends and acquaintances in common. One time when I mentioned the store Sally worked for John said he knew someone who worked there too. Turned out it was Debbie Bradshaw. Debbie had graduated from the same high school as John and Craig but a year behind them. He talked like they ran into each other a couple of times a year.

The shopping trips originated about two years ago when our youngest Allie, was going through the 'terrible twos'. For a couple of months Sally was having a particular bad time with Allie. Jessie was in kindergarten so she also was home half days. Trying to take care of three kids, the house and work a couple days a week was taking its toll on her. I wasn't much help at the time as I was working over-time every week on a project I was assigned to.

It got so bad that one night after everyone had gone to bed she collapsed on the couch and just starting sobbing out of frustration and exhaustion. I gathered her up in my arms and just held her until she finally settled down. After talking about the situation she complained that 'if she could just get a break from it once in awhile she might feel some relief.'

I felt so bad about not being able to be there as much as I should be that I offered to be solely responsible for the kids on my next weekend off if she wanted to get some away time. She tearfully thanked me and said she would think about it.

A couple of weeks later Sally said she had been talking to Debbie about needing to get away from the kids. Debbie suggested they do a shopping trip together and hit some high end malls down around the suburbs of Detroit. Debbie was sure her husband wouldn't mind. Despite my misgivings about letting her loose in some expensive mall with a credit card I agreed.

So on my next free weekend, Sally and Debbie took off on Saturday morning for Detroit. They stopped for breakfast on the way down; then hit one of the malls. In the afternoon they checked into a motel, went to dinner then a movie. Before she had left I insisted that she call me right after checking in and gave me the phone and room number where she was staying which she did. The next day they checked out, had brunch and went to another mall before finally getting home around five in the afternoon.

Sally was so grateful for the trip she gave me a big hug and kiss as soon as she came in the door and prattled on and on about the stores and the restaurants. That night the sex was energetic and wonderful. She hadn't gone hog wild shopping but did buy a couple of nice things for herself and the kids. I was pleased for her plus the kids had been pretty good for me so I really had no complaints.

That had been over two years ago now. Somehow after that weekend the shopping excursions became a regular event. Every three or four months, the two of them would take off on Saturday morning and return late Sunday afternoon. I didn't really mind it. I enjoyed my time with the kids alone and it seemed to make Sally happy.

I tried to recall if anything seemed different or had changed since the trips started. I did remember the second time she went she came back in a totally different frame of mind than what she had after the first trip. For some reason she seemed moody, sad and maybe a little on edge.

I mentioned it to her that Sunday night and asked what was wrong. She said nothing was wrong but that she had started her period and I knew she sometimes got the blues with it. Needless to say there wasn't any sex that night.

The more I thought about it I realized that after that first time, we never made love the night she returned, or for several days afterwards for that matter. But we always had sex several days before she left. And as the trips continued, during the week leading up to one, Sally was always 'up', almost giddy. I hadn't thought much about it before but now I wondered.

About that time I heard Sally at the top of steps calling me, "Phil, it's time for the girls to have their baths. Can you send them up?"

I just sat there trying to get my head together. "Phil? Phil? Can you hear me?"

I hoisted myself out the chair and walked over to the bottom of the stairs and yelled sourly up at her, "Yeah, I heard you, I'll get them."

I went into the rec room and rousted the kids out after some argument. After they traipsed up the stairs I wandered around picking up stuff and putting it away. Mostly just to kill time. I had to get my mind right and not let the emotions roiling around inside me show.

Finally I couldn't put it off longer and made my way back upstairs. Sally was looking through a cookbook in the kitchen when I came through the door. She turned to me and threw her arms around my neck and gave me a wet, sloppy kiss before I could react.

She pulled her head back and looked me in the eyes, smiled and said, "Something wrong honey? You sounded put out?"

Feeling awkward, I mumbled something about a finding a crack in one of my favorite racquets. But I kept looking into her eyes to see if I could see anything that would indicate the truth of my suspicions. But there was nothing to see. She was just Sally, the woman I loved.

She laughed and kissed me again. She hesitated a moment then said, "Debbie called while you were downstairs. She wanted to know if we could go shopping next week end." As she said it her eyes narrowed and it was like a veil fell across her eyes. As I stared at her she blinked and looked away from my face. Instantly I knew she was hiding something and I thought to myself 'How long has that been happening?'

Desperately, I tried to think of a way to postpone this trip until I could think of something, anything. "Uh, don't we have something planned next weekend," I said lamely.

"Nothing on the calendar" she said.

"Seems like there is a VFW event Saturday night I was thinking we should attend." I said slowly.

Sally pulled away from me and looked at me appraisingly. "Phil, you know I don't like to go to those things. I don't care if Dad goes too. All you guys do is talk about army stuff and drink too much. It bores me to tears, so if you want to go just get a sitter while I'm gone."

"Then why don't we do something with the kids this weekend? Cedar Point is only going to be open another few weeks before it closes for the season and we've never taken Allie yet. She's old enough to enjoy it now." I said grasping at straws.

Sally frowned at me and her face started to get red like it does on the rare occasions when she really gets angry. "We just took the kids to Mackinaw Island over Labor Day weekend. That was only a couple of weeks ago. What's got into you Phil? You never objected to me going shopping before?"

Getting a little bit pissed myself, I said stone faced, "Never mind, I just thought maybe we could do something together. You and Debbie have a good time. I'm going upstairs and make sure the kids go to bed."

I turned and headed up the stairs to the bedrooms. About halfway up I glanced back down and saw Sally staring at me strangely.

The rest of the evening I managed to avoid any real conversation with her. Like most work nights I went to bed before Sally and laid there trying to sleep. Sometime later I heard her come in and go into our bathroom to change into her pajamas. She slid into bed and cuddled up against my back. She wrapped her arm around me and whispered "Phil, Phil?" I kept my breathing shallow and regular and pretended to be asleep

Eventually she gave up and rolled away from me. I could tell from her breathing when she finally fell asleep. I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling trying to sort through my thoughts.

My mind drifted back, thinking about my life and how I had gotten to this point. I had grown up less than twenty miles from where we were living now. Just your usual middle class family, Mom, Dad me and my older sister. The most interesting thing about growing up was my best friend, Jason. Or 'Jase' as everyone usually called him.

His family lived at one end of the block and we lived at the other. We met about fourth grade and had been inseparable ever since. If he wasn't at our house I was at his. Not a week went by that one of us didn't spend at least one night at the other's house.

He was 'Mr. Personality', always joking, laughing, rarely taking anything seriously and always making friends where ever he went. I was more the quiet, thoughtful type. We complimented each other. As we grew up we played sports together, began to notice girls together and in fact often double-dated. While neither of us got very serious about any one girl we both managed to lose our virginity in the last few months leading up to our senior prom.

As students neither of us was outstanding but I usually got better grades than Jase. I did discover one thing about high school that I loved and that was drafting. By the time I was a senior I had taken every drafting class available and was having serious thoughts about being some kind of engineer.

After graduation I decided to attend the local junior college that had an Engineering Technology program. It was relatively cheap and close enough to live at home and commute. Jase didn't know what he wanted to do but he tagged along enrolled in general studies. The biggest benefit was it got us our student draft deferments.

Then toward the end of my freshman year I screwed up big time. Jase and I had been out to a college kegger on a Saturday night when I got pulled over on my way home. I flunked the breathalyzer and spent the night in the county jail.

Dad and Mom bailed me out the next morning and were justifiably pissed. After it was all said and done I used all my savings to pay the fines, legal fees and court costs and lost my driver's license for a year.

I moped around until the end of the semester hitching rides with Jase. Finally I thought 'screw this.' Broke with no driver's license gave me little incentive to go to school the next year. I decided to roll the dice and enlist in the army. I figured that with my drafting training I could get an engineering type job and avoid Vietnam. At least that's what the recruiter told me. Of course he lied.

When I told Jase my plans he immediately decided to join me. The recruiter said we could go in on the buddy plan and were guaranteed to go through training together. So off we went. Basic Training was a challenge but tolerable. Mid-way through the training we went through a battery of aptitude tests to see what jobs we were compatible with.

The Army in its infinite wisdom decided we could best serve the green machine as Fire Direction Control specialists. The job entailed operating what the Army called a FDC computer but was really a hopped up calculator that computed distances, azimuths and the amount of explosive charge to use for an artillery shell to hit a given target.

So after basic we were sent to Fort Sill to learn our new trade. Sill wasn't a very pleasant place but being with Jase we managed to have some fun. But that was nothing compared to the next booby prize we got, orders for Vietnam came along a couple of weeks before graduation.

After fifteen days leave, visiting the folks, drinking beer with our old buddies and chasing a couple of our old girlfriends we made the long flight to I Corps, Republic of Vietnam. After some finagling with the personnel pukes we managed to both get assigned to A Battery, 2^nd Battalion, 11^th Artillery Brigade. It was November 1969 and Nixon had already started to draw down the troop levels as the strategy to turn over the war to the South Vietnamese was getting traction. What a joke that was.

We didn't see a lot of action that first five or six months. We fired a lot of missions from fire support bases all over I Corps but only took incoming a couple of times. Up to then the highlight of our tour was taking R&R in Bangkok, Thailand. After fifteen days of whores and hooch Jase and I returned to our unit exhausted hoping to rest up.

The news that our unit had been attached to the 3^rd Brigade, 101^st Airborne while we were gone didn't excite much comment. But a couple of days later when our battery was airlifted onto a denuded hill in the middle of the deepest, darkest bush I'd ever seen since coming to 'Nam I got a bad feeling. Four months later I came home on a stretcher. Jase came home in a body bag.

I was pretty messed up, physically and mentally from the trauma I had received. I spent several weeks in a hospital and a couple of months in rehab. I also spent some time with a psychiatrist trying to get my ahead around everything that had happened. After they pronounced me marginally fit for duty again I was assigned back to Fort Sill to a training brigade to be an assistant instructor. I didn't feel like talking much to anyone anymore so I enrolled in some classes at the local college and spent my off duty hours buried in drafting assignments.

After a year there, I applied for an early out to go back to school. As Vietnam was winding down so was the size of the Army. I had applied for and been accepted into an engineering tech program at the university nearest home. The Army approved my request and I got released five months early after serving two years and seven months.

I moved back in with Mom and Dad and applied for my veteran's benefits. Living at home my needs were few. I had saved most of my money from 'Nam. And the education benefits and the income from a part-time job met all my expenses.

Looking back I was a typical, or maybe a stereotypical shell-shocked, messed up Vietnam vet. The public response to the war and those of us who fought it combined with my injuries and the things I had seen and done turned me into a bitter, introverted recluse.

I let my hair go and grew a beard. I schlepped around in hooded sweatshirts or my old beat up army field jacket most of the time. Ratty jeans and worn sneakers completed my ensemble.

I went to school, to work and to home. I know Mom, Dad and my sister, Terry worried about me. But I just didn't feel socially engaged anymore. I still saw a VA therapist about once a month but it wasn't doing much for me. About once a week I would visit Jase's parents and we would talk about him and the good times we had together. They seemed to enjoy it and it was the least I could do for them.

One afternoon I was sitting in the study hall of the International Center on campus. Several days a week I had a couple of hours between classes and I usually spent the time studying or reading. As I tried to ignore the noise of the crowd around me a voice broke my concentration.

"Mind if I sit here?"

I glanced up at the person standing on the other side of the table and did a double-take. Long red hair with the perfect pale complexion only a true redhead could achieve. Inquisitive brown eyes looked into mine waiting patiently for a response. I nervously licked my lips as I looked at her perfectly shaped red ones and wondered what they would feel like on mine.

I was lost in that thought when she repeated herself. "Do you, do you mind if I sit here?"

Tongue tied I manage to blurt out. "Uh, no, go ahead."

As she put her books down and pulled a chair out to sit I studied her out of the corner of my eye. Probably about seven, eight inches shorter than my six foot two and looked like she weighed about one twenty and very well put together.

For the next half hour she was immersed in her books and I pretended to be glued to mine. Every once in a while I found myself glancing at her and admiring her looks. After about the fifth or sixth time I did it I looked up to see her staring at me.

She pointed to my field jacket and said somewhat tentatively. "Are you a veteran?" I nodded yes and then she asked, "Vietnam?" I flinched when she said that as often the response I got wasn't pleasant. But I simply said, "Yes" and left it at that.

After a few minutes she said brightly, "My dad is a veteran. He served in the Korean War. He was a Marine."

I relaxed a little and thought maybe this wouldn't be too bad after all. Then she said, "He was even wounded." She said it like it was some kind of trivial thing. 'Civilians', I thought disgustingly. But I just nodded and explained to her that I had been in the Army for nearly three years but I avoided any further mention about 'Nam.

We started talking and we talked right up until the time she said she had to go to class. She gathered up her books, said good-bye and went out the door. I was sorry to see her go. She was the first women I'd really talked to since getting home.

A couple of days later I was sitting in nearly the same spot when I heard that familiar voice say, "Hey, mind if I sit here." This time I responded a little more coherently than the first time. I tried to lose myself in my book but she started talking to me like we were best friends.

After a bit she paused and blushing a bit said, "I just realized I've been babbling away and I don't even know your name?"

Somewhat embarrassedly I held out my hand and said "it's Phil, Phil Robinson."

She laughed and said, "Sally Baxter. Glad to meet you."

It turned out that we both had a long layover between classes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Over the next couple of weeks we would visit for most of our break. I heard most of her life story, about her mom, dad, older sisters, her friends and career and school plans. Besides being beautiful, she was outgoing, gregarious and personable. Her personality reminded me a lot of Jase.