THE WAGES OF SIN–Part 1

This is a story of a loving family—mom, dad, and two girls, aged 13 and 11, that is almost destroyed when the mother cheats. Mostly, the story tells about how they survive. I’ll give you a hint—they get help from an unexpected source. I dislike stories that begin with children who disappear into dust as the story progresses. The children are an integral part of this story so they are in it from the beginning to the end. Of course, they are not involved in any of the sex that is depicted. That is reserved for the adults.

If you’ve read anything I have written you will know that the story is always the most important element. Any sex that is described is also an integral part of the plot so if you’re looking for one sex scene after another I’m afraid you will be disappointed.

I began another story that will be posted soon then got the idea for this one. I’ll be ready to post the other, “Just an Old-Fashioned Girl,” fairly soon. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this one. Please remember that I can only write what pops into my head even if you disagree with it. THE WAGES OF SIN—a story in three parts. The story starts slowly, but give it a chance. Part one is mostly background for what happens in the future.

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THE WAGES OF SIN—PART 1

There was nothing particularly special or planned about how it happened. I hadn’t installed tiny surveillance cameras or contacted a private investigator. Indeed, I knew nothing until that very moment. I just walked into the house unexpectedly. I’m Tim Moran, owner of Moran Plumbing, Heating, and Air Conditioning in Smithtown, Long Island. It’s a good business with seventeen full-time employees, including the two who work in my office.

On this day I had been called by Chuck, one of my plumbers, for assistance on a job. The homeowner’s sewer line was clogged and Chuck had been unable to clear the pipe. I had a fiber optic lens and high intensity light at the end of a long coil of a twisted steel cable. It’s an extremely expensive piece of equipment so I always kept it locked in my truck.

I had just arrived and had unloaded the camera. I was crouching over the open house trap when someone had forgotten that we were working there and flushed the toilet. The raw sewage gushed out of the open trap, running all over my hands and arms. The homeowner apologized profusely, but I barely listened. You don’t become a fireman if you’re afraid of fire and you don’t become a plumber if you’re afraid of a little shit, besides I had learned long ago that almost anything can be removed with a little sanitizing soap and water.

My camera found the problem—a toy truck had somehow made its way down the pipe and was wedged in an elbow. Fortunately, we had a solution. Most people have heard of Roto-Rooter. We have the same machines—fifty feet by one inch twisted steel cable fed into the drain pipe and turned by a powerful motor. In this case a special blade that could cut through wood and metal was added to the front end of the snake. It cut the truck into tiny pieces that flowed easily to the main sewer. Then Chuck told the homeowner to make sure the cleanout plugs on the house trap were always wrench-tight. There was no way a small truck could find its way through a toilet or sink. It had to be placed into the house trap and flushed down the line.

I cleaned myself at the nearby hose, using a bacteria-killing liquid soap. Soon enough my arms and hands were clean. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for my uniform shirt and slacks. I usually have a spare in the truck, but that’s what I was wearing now. “No problem,” I thought. “I’ll stop off at the house on my way back to the office.” That would prove to be a momentous and life-changing decision.

My wife, Terri, worked as a secretary for a major national accounting firm. I’ve often heard her criticize me because they have MBA’s and I have a diploma from Wilson Tech, our county’s vocational high school even though I earn roughly six times what she does and more than double what her asshole boss does. If she was so dissatisfied, why the hell did she marry me?

I’d always thought that we had a really solid marriage and a mutually satisfying sex life, but, apparently, I was wrong on both counts. There was a strange car in our driveway when I pulled in to change my clothes. I’ve read plenty of stories about spousal infidelity online so my suspicions were raised even though there could easily have been an entirely innocent answer to my concerns.

I walked in quietly, but I wasn’t about to sneak around in my own house. Sure enough, I could hear the moans and groans coming from the bedroom so I made a quick stop in my home office for my camera. They were so into it that they never heard me when I climbed the stairs, walked into the office, or entered the bedroom. I took a few quick shots, getting their bodies in the pictures, but not a good look at their faces. I had the solution for that.

I had just had someone else’s shit on my hands so I wasn’t too worried about grabbing this asshole’s scrotum. Holding the camera in my right hand I reached forward with my left. Plumbers usually have strong hands and arms. That was proved once again as a second later I had gripped his balls tightly, twisted, and pulled. He came off my wife like a bullet from a rifle and his scream was sheer joy to my ears. Terri looked up in shock as I stepped back and took a few more photos. This time I was able to get both of them—faces and bodies—framed nicely in the lens—and some nice shots of semen on her chest, face, and hair. I set the camera on my dresser once I had removed the SD card which went into my pocket. My wife finally decided to speak, but it wasn’t anything I wanted to hear.

“Tim, what did you do to Robert? You’re completely overreacting. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Really? You’d better stay in bed. You’re having delusions. I think you need a doctor.”

“Very funny…and, by the way, you smell like shit. Why don’t you clean yourself up while I see to Robert?”

“Well, isn’t that a surprise? Why don’t you just take care of Robert? You seemed to be doing a really good job of that a few minutes ago.”

“I already told you, Tim—you’re overreacting. I’ll make you a sandwich while you’re in the shower and then we can talk. I’ll explain everything, especially why this will have no impact on our relationship.” I looked at my wife in disgust then began to walk to the bathroom. I couldn’t help but give good old Robert who had slipped to the floor in pain a good kick in the groin with my heavy work shoes as I walked by. I was pleased when Terri whined again.

I locked the bathroom door before shedding my clothes and removed the SD card, placing it in my sock. Five minutes later I was drying my body and was ready to dress in a new uniform. Terri was waiting for me in the kitchen with a Virginia ham on rye and a Pepsi. Robert and his car were long gone. I sat at the table and waited for her to speak. I was sure I had heard or read all of it before and she didn’t disappoint—not even a little.

“This has nothing at all to do with you and me, Tim. I have needs that you can’t fill.”

“Really? And what would they be? Don’t try telling me that he’s bigger than me because I know better. You know that I have excellent vision. He has a dinky dick, flabby pasty skin, and a rather large pot belly so I fail to see the attraction. Terri, you’ve destroyed two marriages.”

“No, Tim, that’s not true. This has had absolutely no impact on us. You would never have known if you hadn’t come home early.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really; is that all you can say?”

“What do you want me to say, Terri? I come home to clean up and find you fucking your boss and that’s not supposed to upset me? Well, let me tell you…I’m not done with him or you, either.”

“You wouldn’t dare divorce me, Tim. I’d take you to the cleaners. Not only will I get your daughters, but I’ll get the house and half of your business, too.”

I couldn’t repress a smirk. “You may work for an accountant, Terri, but you know absolutely nothing about the law. You’d be entitled to half of everything accumulated since we got married. However, do you recall when I first showed you this house? Do you remember that I had bought the lot as an investment and had the house built with the intention of selling it at a profit? When you agreed to marry me I showed it to you thinking that you might like it and, if you did, I’d finish it with you in mind. That was more than six months before we were married. That probably means that I’ll get the girls, also because I can afford the extra help either of us would need much more easily than you can.

“The same principle applies to my business. I won’t have any trouble showing that I incorporated the business more than two years before we had even met. Here’s something else for you to consider—we don’t have that much money. All of our savings is in accounts listed under the business. That was on the advice of MY accountant. We have about $6,000 in our checking account and maybe twenty in a savings account. Everything else has gone into the college funds for Andrea and Chrissy.

“Now I have a few questions for you. How long has this been going on? And don’t expect me to believe this was the first time. You weren’t acting like first-timers in there.”

“I told you it had no effect on us and it hasn’t. I’ve been seeing Robert for almost six months…one or two times a week.” She had a satisfied smile on her face, but not for long.

“No effect on us, eh? Okay, we used to make love at least three times a week. When was the last time we made love?”

“Over the weekend, so there!”

“No, we didn’t. I wanted to, but you were ‘tired.’ Try again.”

“Then sometime last week…Wednesday or Thursday. I forget which day.”

“We did have sex, but we certainly didn’t make love. I approached you and you tried to get out of it until I insisted. All you did was lie perfectly still while I fucked you. The truth is that we’ve averaged only once every ten days or so over the past six months. Tell me again how this is having no impact on our relationship.”

“That can’t be right.”

“Yeah…right! Okay, next question—are you going to stop now that you’ve been caught?”

“Why should I? Robert is an educated and genteel man. I’ll just have to take better care of you–that’s all.”

“You’re dreaming. If you think I’m going to accept that you’re sick. If you’re fucking him, I’m not fucking you. Who knows where his cock has been?”

“That’s unfair.”

“Is it? Who started this affair? Who chased whom? He chased you—a married woman without any concern for his marriage or yours. If he’d do you–why not any other woman? He’s anything but genteel. He’s a pig. Here are your choices, Terri. Either dump him immediately or get ready to live on your own because we’ll be finished.”

“You don’t really mean that, Tim.”

“No? Try me. I have to go. One of us has to work. Aren’t you on the clock? Expect nothing but trouble if you continue to fuck while you’re supposed to be working.” I got up and walked out the door, but not to work. I’d have a busy afternoon.

I phoned my secretary, Carolyn, to tell her I’d be late getting back then I went to WalMart where I made three copies of each of my photos—8 by 10’s and bought some large manila envelopes. Finally, I phoned Chet Collins, a friend from Kiwanis, to ask about lunch tomorrow. “Hi, Chet,” I began. “Can we possibly get together tomorrow? I’d prefer to do it away from your office. How about lunch at The Crossroads…my treat?”

“I have a busy day, Tim. Is it Kiwanis business?”

“No, it’s personal, but it’s partly business, too. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“Care to tell me what it’s about?”

“Not over the phone; it’s something I have to do in person.”

“Okay…I think I can reschedule a few things. How about at one?”

“It’s a date. Thanks, Chet; I’ll see you then.” I phoned Carolyn again, asking her to make the reservation. The Crossroads is an upper crusty kind of place so I’d have to remember to bring a suit with me tomorrow. I drove next to St. Brendan’s Lutheran School to give them an estimate on a major overhaul of their heating system. Once there I met with their church council. I’d already taken a good look at their antiquated system and had some major suggestions that would improve conditions in the school and save them money, too by integrating large solar panels into their hot water system. I thought their building layout was perfect for it. All told, the meeting took more than an hour. I had a formal presentation with copies for all of the committee members and I had all of the figures down pat. There were plenty of questions, but I had anticipated that, too. I knew that there would be at least two other bidders, but I felt that I had the upper hand, having worked successfully with the church for almost eight years.

I returned to the office and Carolyn brought me up to date on the day’s phone calls. There were six repair jobs from repeat customers, the bread and butter of any service company, and requests for quotes on four others. She confirmed tomorrow’s lunch reservation then I gave her a tentative schedule for tomorrow’s appointments, hopefully arranging them so I’d be close to the Crossroads around noon. I could change in their restroom, if necessary.

The rest of the afternoon I spent planning what to do with my wife. I couldn’t understand Robert Ernst’s appeal. I was taller at six feet one inch to his five feet nine. I was physically fit at a muscular 195 pounds while he had a desk worker’s gut. I had never considered myself handsome, but I thought I was better looking than Ernst plus after tomorrow I’d still have a job while he wouldn’t. At 39 my future was golden. In his late forties his was in decline. Maybe that was why he did it. Some men have to prove their virility over and over. Unfortunately, doing it with my wife was a big mistake.

I knew that Chet was an extremely religious man. He’d served as chaplain for the Kiwanis for the past ten years, even before I became a member. He had been married to the same woman for more than thirty years and he was also the Executive Vice President who ran that accounting firm’s local office. He was Ernst’s boss, Terri’s, too. I had a plan by the time I went home for the night. Only time would tell if it was a good one.

My girls were home from school when I got there. Each was in her room working hard at her desk when I walked in to hug and kiss them. My daughters were my reasons for living. That had been true for many years—their entire lives, thirteen and eleven years respectively—but never more than today. They gave me the strength to go on. They gave me the strength and reason to seek justice for my family.

Terri was in the kitchen preparing dinner just as she always was. She gave me a smirk as if to say, “See, I told you that my affair wouldn’t affect you.” I had always greeted her with a hug and a big juicy kiss. I walked away after giving her nothing other than the smirk she deserved.

I made a point of being cordial to Terri all night while the girls were up, but after tucking them into bed that changed. Terri was in her chair pretending to read, but I noticed that she hadn’t turned a page in more than ten minutes. “Let’s go to bed. I need to take care of you.”

“What part of my comments this afternoon didn’t you understand? If you’re going to fuck Ernst, I’m not going anywhere near you. Even if you give him up I’m not doing anything until you’ve been checked for STD’s. Think about that while you tell yourself that your sordid affair has had no impact on our relationship. I’m telling you again, Terri—if you want our marriage to survive you have to stop seeing dickhead Ernst.”

“There’s no reason to be so juvenile, Tim. He hasn’t done anything to deserve name calling.”

“So chasing and fucking another man’s wife is a laudable activity? Is that what you really think? If it is then I readily admit that I don’t know you and—even worse—you obviously don’t know me at all. I will never accept that kind of behavior. I already know what I’m going to do with him, but the jury’s still out on you. It will all depend on what you do. Try thinking about your family—your daughters and your husband—instead of your cunt for a change.”

“That’s just what I’d expect from an ignorant jerk like you…gutter language.”

“It’s one thing to talk about it, Terri. It’s another to actually live there. Incidentally, there are only two reasons why you and I are even sleeping in the same bed. If not for Andrea and Chrissy you’d be in the office or the basement.” I’d had enough. I walked away to shower and go to bed.

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As always, I was up early to wake the girls and make our breakfast. My employees officially began work at 8:00, but came in around 7:30 to prepare for the day. That was the time I made new assignments, both in terms of work and manpower and it was the time that the men gathered the pipe and fittings they thought they might need for their day. The office was empty by 7:45 so I phoned Mrs. Johansen to confirm our appointment and rang her bell at 8:30 on the dot. She was a little older than me, but almost as tall, speaking with what I assumed was a Scandinavian accent. I entered her home after introducing myself, handing her my business card, and carrying a thick three-ring binder under my arm. She led me directly to the bathroom they wanted to remodel.

I could tell by the architecture of the house that it had been built in the 1970’s and the bathroom confirmed my assessment. “Can you give me a price,” she asked.

“Truthfully, I can’t. It will all depend on what you decide to do and there can be dozens of decisions to make. You can get a company in here to replace your tub and shower in a single day at less than a thousand dollars, but then you’ll still have this tile that screams ‘70’s’ and this old high water-use toilet and antiquated basin. Or you can make major renovations and spend as much as twenty thousand—maybe even more. How much you do is a decision only you and your husband can make. I have some renovations I can show you here in my notebook.

“The difference between my company and most of the others is that I’ve worked with the tile company, the electrical contractor, and a general contractor many times and I will guarantee their work. These projects can get out of control in a hurry when one contractor blames another for some problem and nobody assumes or accepts responsibility. I take responsibility for every step, even if my people don’t make the problem.” A few minutes later she had offered me coffee and I began to show her some of our work at the kitchen table. I began with the “ultra” renovations–$20,000-plus that turned an ordinary bathroom into a dynamic modern spa. Eventually, the photos became much more realistic for most people. Even then I thought that they showed outstanding work and excellent value for the cost.

“You need to discuss exactly what you want with your husband. The final cost will depend on the fixtures you choose, lighting, and tile. That’s something that can really drive the price up. Some tiles are really expensive. I’ll be happy to meet with you as many times as necessary. I have a computer program that can illustrate virtually anything you come up with.” I rose and she thanked me at the door. It was all in a day’s work. My next appointment wasn’t, unfortunately.

The drive took me almost forty minutes. Parking in the street, I grabbed the manila envelope and walked slowly toward the door. It opened only a few seconds after I’d rung the bell. I had waited until mid morning in the hope any kids would be at school. Her face showed her confusion. “I didn’t call a plumber.”

“I know, Mrs. Ernst. I’m Tim Moran. I’m here about something else. May I come in?”

“Oh…sure; I remember you now. You’re Terri’s husband. How is she?”

“Actually, she’s why I’m here. I think you might want to sit down before I explain.” She showed me to the living room where she sat on the couch. I sat on a nearby chair. “There’s no easy way to say this Mrs. Ernst, but I’d want to know if our situations were reversed. I went home yesterday morning to change clothes and I walked in to find my wife and your husband in our bed.” Rather than continue I simply handed her the envelope. She was remarkably calm as she opened it and inspected the photos—the proof of her husband’s and my wife’s infidelity.

“I guess you can tell that I’m not terribly surprised. Robert has been involved in several other ‘situations,’ all of which have involved his subordinates. I know he was written up for at least one by the head of accounting. This is the final straw, though. I’ve had enough of his empty promises.”

“I’m meeting Chet Collins for lunch today. I know the company has strict non-fraternization and sexual harassment policies. I plan to tell him I’m going to sue unless….”

“Yes, I’d go after his job, too if I was in your shoes.”

“What about you? You have children, don’t you?”

“Yes, two teenagers and a fifth grader, but I’ll be all right. I have my own money—an inheritance from my grandmother. I’ll be happy to be rid of him. Thank you for coming, Mr. Moran. You were right to do so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to contact my attorney.” I rose; she shook my hand, and then showed me to the door. I returned to my office where I changed into my suit and tie, using the loafers I kept there for Kiwanis meetings. I was out the door thirty minutes later after attending to some business matters with Carolyn and pulled into the parking lot at The Crossroads only ten minutes before one.

Chet was usually prompt and today was no exception. He strode in with a smile and shook my hand. We were seated at our table only a minute later. Our waiter had taken our drink order and left before Chet asked why I wanted to meet with him. I simply slid the envelope across the table. “That’s your wife, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately, yes; note the time and date stamp.”

He did and I could see his face color with rage. He had his phone out of his pocket in an instant and was looking for a number in memory. It seemed to ring only once before he spoke, “Jacobs, what’s going on with Ernst and Mrs. Moran?”

I could just hear the other end of the conversation. (I wrote him up about three months ago because he was becoming a little too friendly…you know—touching and rubbing her and some of the other people in the department were starting to talk. He assured me it was nothing and it stopped.)

“Really? Do you have any idea where he was Tuesday morning? Yesterday?”

(Uh, he told me had had to visit a client.)

“Where was Mrs. Moran?”

(I can’t say for sure. I assume she was at her desk.)

“Take my word for it. She wasn’t there. Don’t let Ernst go anywhere this afternoon. I’ll want to speak with him when I return from lunch then I’ll want to speak with you.” He ended the call before returning his attention to me. “What do you want, Tim?”

“Well…I don’t want to sue you.” He laughed. “And I won’t if….”

“You don’t even have to say it. He’s history. Having sexual relations with a subordinate is bad enough, but doing it on company time is totally inexcusable. What about Terri?”

“No, I’d like her to keep hers, for now anyway. I’d like to salvage the marriage, if possible. Right now she’s giving me some shit about how it hasn’t affected our relationship. We used to have relations three or more times a week, but over the past four months it’s less than one and even then she’s somewhere else.”

“Infidelity always carries a huge price tag. It’s only the cheaters who feel otherwise. Does his wife know?”

“Yeah, I saw her this morning. What a mess. They have three kids.” Chet shook his head and we turned to more pleasant topics like how poorly the Jets were doing this season. We would have enjoyed our excellent lunch under other circumstances. We parted company just after two, shaking hands in the parking lot. I almost felt sorry for Robert Ernst…almost. He’d never get any kind of decent reference from Chet or anyone who worked for him. I was sure that Jacobs was going to catch his share of shit, too.

I returned to the office where I changed clothes again and tackled some paperwork until 4:30 when I closed the office and drove home. I expected a reaction from Terri and I got one. “How could you? How could you do that to such a good man?”

“Where are the girls?” I would never want them to hear this conversation.

“They’re at your mother’s. She phoned earlier and I asked if they could come over for dinner. Happy now?”

“No, I don’t know if I’ll ever be happy again, but I am relieved.”

“What did Robert ever do to you that you had him fired?”

“First of all, I didn’t have him fired. I went to lunch with Chet Collins. One should always know what his or her boss is like. You know he’s very religious and believes in the sanctity of marriage. It didn’t help that my camera recorded the date and time. I told you that fucking around on company time would be a problem. Chet almost blew a gasket when he saw that. Besides, this shouldn’t have been a surprise to you. I told you I wasn’t finished with him. Now all you have to do is agree to never see him again and we can see if this marriage can work again.”

“And you think I’m delusional—what did I tell you? I see no reason why I should give Robert up.”

“Then you’d better get your stuff together and move out. I also told you that there was absolutely no way I’d ever accept that kind of behavior from you or from anyone else. I don’t see anything on the stove so I assume you don’t plan on cooking tonight. On the positive side for you, Robert will have unlimited free time now. His wife has thrown him out.”

“You didn’t!”

“Of course, I did. If one of my friends knew about you I’d want to know. She wasn’t at all surprised when she saw the pictures. She told me that she’d caught him two other times and he’d been written up at work at least once that she knew of. I told you to be tested for STD’s and I wasn’t kidding. Don’t think that I don’t love you in spite of this. Those diseases can be pretty nasty.”

Terri looked as though she was about to speak, but changed her mind. “I’m going out for a light dinner. Want to join me?” She scowled and I took that as a “no.” Our marriage might be over, but it wasn’t my behavior that would end it. I grabbed my keys and retreated out the door.

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There were more than a few things on my mind when I pulled into the diner’s parking lot. Terri had often criticized me for a lack of formal education. I’d always thought that was funny because she was “only” a high school graduate, too. I’d taken several courses online to improve my estimating skills and also to improve my vocabulary. I had a thesaurus on my desk even though everyone uses their word processor now. I had resolved to learn at least five new words a day more than ten years ago and now I sounded more like a college professor than a plumber. The more I thought about it the more I realized that Terri would likely never be satisfied with anything I did.

I had a mediocre cheese steak sub with a Coke, paid cash and checked my watch—just enough time to get home to greet my girls and my mom. She was pretty smart. I was sure she’d be able to pick up on our problems. She did, too, but was considerate enough not to say anything in front of her granddaughters. I could see it in her eyes when I went to hug and kiss her and I was sure she was shocked when Terri didn’t. In fact, Terri was upstairs when Chrissy bounded in the door and never made the effort to come down to see Mom or to say thanks.

I walked Mom back to her car. She hesitated before opening the door. “What’s going on, Tim? Something’s obviously wrong between you and Terri.”

“I can’t talk about it now, Mom. Just be assured that I didn’t do anything to cause the trouble.”

“No, I didn’t think so. I raised you to be polite and considerate, besides I know you’d never do anything to hurt your daughters.”

“You know me pretty well, Mom. Thanks for watching the girls. I’m glad they weren’t home earlier.”

“That bad, eh?” I just nodded as I leaned down to kiss my mom good-bye.

>>>>>>

There wasn’t much change at home over the next two weeks. I never mentioned anything about Ernst so Terri and I rarely spoke to each other unless we had to discuss something about our daughters. One day Terri did ask me for money. “What happened to your earnings as if I don’t already know? Dickhead was too cheap to get a motel room so you had to do it here in our bed. Talk about insulting and demeaning. Please remind me again how this is having no impact on our relationship.”

“It’s not. You are—you and your unreasonable attitude. Now…may I please have some money?”

“Terri, for the past six months you’ve been acting like a cheap street whore. Whores get paid to fuck. You’re not fucking me so I’m not paying you. I suggested that you be tested and I repeat that now. I had a phone call from Chet today. His investigation turned up a lot of dirt. You’ll be thrilled to know that you were Ernst’s sixth choice. Of the others two went straight to the human relations office to file a complaint. Three others succumbed, but learned quickly that they were only notches on Shithead’s belt and they dumped him like he had the plague. Now he has you and the whole company is laughing at you. Chet actually apologized although he wasn’t at fault. Jacobs is on probation for not taking stronger action a long time ago. Chet wanted to fire you, but I asked him not to. You’ll need the job if our marriage doesn’t make it. Right now I’d say the odds are about 60-40 against.

“I’ve been tested and it seems your wonderful lover has given you Chlamydia. I’m taking antibiotics. You need to see a doctor.” She railed against me, but I stood firm. When we had married I agreed to let her keep her earnings while I paid for all of our living expenses. That’s something we continued throughout our entire marriage. I’d be damned if I’d pay for their cheating. I got one final shot in before retiring for the night. “Why can’t you use where he’s staying?”

“Because he’s staying at the ‘Y,’ thanks to you.”

“No, Terri, it’s not because of me. He’s the one who decided to fuck other men’s wives, not me. And he’s the one who decided to do it on company time while he was being paid to work.” I was fed up with this conversation and with my so-called wife. I walked away to shower and go to bed.

Then, about two weeks later, I was working at my office desk putting the final touches on the Johansen estimate when Carolyn dashed into the office. “It’s the school…Terri never picked the girls up.”

I grabbed the phone and spoke to Mrs. Kelly, the middle school principal. I told her that I’d come as soon as I checked on my wife at home. I drove as quickly as I could, trying to keep my speed to only five miles per hour over the limit and praying that the police would be occupied elsewhere. Everything seemed normal when I ran into the house, but Terri didn’t answer my calls. I took the stairs two at a time, but stopped short when I walked into our bedroom. Her closet was empty, hangers on the bed and floor and her dresser drawers were open, but mostly empty. Some of her clothes were scattered on the floor. She had obviously left me. Not surprisingly, I felt no remorse at all.

Back in the truck a moment later I pointed it toward the middle school. We were close by—too close to qualify for a school bus, but too far for the girls to walk safely. The school was on a busy road—too busy for my tastes. I parked outside the entrance less than five minutes later and walked in to the office to find Andrea and Chrissy seated and working on their homework.

“Everything okay with Mrs. Moran,” kindly Mrs. Kelly asked.

“Just a misunderstanding,” I replied. “I apologize for keeping you.”

“As you can see it wasn’t a problem at all.” I thanked her again and led my only reasons for living out to the pickup.

“Where’s Mom, Daddy? Why didn’t she pick us up?”

“I’ll explain once we’re home, honey.” I made sure they were belted into the rear seat and drove the short distance home, parking in the driveway instead of the garage. Turning around, I faced my daughters. “There’s no easy way to say this, but you’d find out as soon as you go to your rooms. Your mother has left us. Apparently, she cleaned out her closet and dresser sometime during the day.” I was taken aback when neither of them showed any surprise.

Chrissy spoke first. “I bet it was that awful Mr. Ernst, Daddy.”

“What do you know about him?”

“One day back in June near the end of school,” Andrea responded, “Mom forgot that we only had a half-day. It was early and we didn’t know if Mom was still at work so Chrissy and I decided to risk walking home. They were in your bedroom having sex when we walked in. Mom must have heard us—I know I gasped when I saw them–because she jumped off of him, threw on her robe and came out to talk to us. She told us you knew all about it and said it was okay with you because you couldn’t get an erection any more. She told us you were sensitive about it so she didn’t want us to say anything to you.”

“We didn’t believe her, Daddy. We can hear you sometimes at night and we guessed that she was lying. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, Daddy.”

I pulled Chrissy to my cheek. “It’s okay, honey. I walked in on them about three weeks ago. Let’s just say that he couldn’t walk too well once I was done with him. He’s been fired and I know his wife threw him out. He’s serial cheater. Do you know what that means?”

“Of course, Daddy; it means that he can’t keep it in his pants. It also means that Mom should be tested for STD’s.”

“Where on earth do you learn this stuff, anyway?”

“Daddy, you know we both had the sex ed. part of Health in fifth grade. The rest we hear from friends whose parents are divorced. Are you going to divorce Mom, Daddy?”

“Right now I don’t know anything, Andrea. I have a lot to think about—a lot of problems to solve.”

“You can count on us, right, Chrissy? We’ll help out with the house and everything.” We exited the truck and walked into the house. What the hell was Terri thinking? Ernst had no job and few prospects for another good one unless he opened his own business and the chances of that were slim. I knew he didn’t have his CPA and without it opening his own business was chancy at best, besides I knew his finances were sketchy. On the other hand, he was genteel. That must count for something.

Andrea and Chrissy changed their clothes then got a big plastic trash bag. We threw all of Terri’s remaining clothes into it and I carried it out to the truck bed. Then I took the girls out for pizza. We stopped at a Salvation Army bin on the way and I dropped off our donation. Again, I was surprised at how my girls had reacted. I never did know when to keep my mouth closed so I asked them, “You don’t seem to be too upset. Why not?”

“We’ve seen how she treats you, Daddy. Sometimes she said bad things about you before you came home. She said bad things about us, too. You didn’t deserve that, Daddy.”

“Neither did you, sweetie. Let’s put it out of our minds and enjoy our pizza.” I ordered a large pie—half sausage and half pepperoni with extra cheese and three Pepsi’s. Not surprisingly, there was little chatter either before or during dinner. I ate three pieces and they had two of pepperoni and a half of sausage each. Oh, to be young again. A few minutes later we were home. They assured me that their homework was done so I walked next door once they had locked our door behind them.

I had barely rung the bell when it was opened. “I knew I’d see you soon, Tim. C’mon in and have a seat.”

“Mrs. Hoskins, I could use a little help.”

“Really, Tim—you’ve known me more than ten years and you still call me Mrs. Hoskins. I’m Glenda. We’re both adults so you can certainly feel free to use my first name. You know that I don’t have much to do since Will passed so I often sit on the front porch with a cup of tea and read or knit. That’s especially true in the warmer weather. I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen that hussy you married come home with that fat greasy slob of a boss. She was anything but discreet, Tim. And today was the worst. No sooner had he driven up than she came running out with a big suitcase. They kissed right out in public. You’re better off without her, believe me!”

“You’re probably right, Glenda, but I came here to ask for your help.” Over the next fifteen minutes she agreed to drive the girls to school using what had been Terri’s minivan and to pick them up in the afternoon. She’d stay with them until I was able to get home, supervise their homework, and get dinner started. In return she could use the minivan during the day for shopping—she had lost hers when her husband Will was rear ended by a school bus whose brakes had failed. He was killed instantly. She was still involved in a lawsuit against the bus company and the school district so I knew money was tight. She initially refused any payment, but eventually agreed to twenty-five dollars a day. She’d start tomorrow. It was a load off my mind. I had plenty of other things to do.

I told the girls about the arrangements. They were more than okay about them; they both liked Mrs. Hoskins—had ever since they could remember. I excused myself to the home office where I went online to check our bank. As I had suspected, Terri had almost emptied both the checking and savings accounts, leaving only $100, the required minimum in them. I’d close both tomorrow. Meanwhile, I closed both credit cards then phoned Carl Smithers, a locksmith I knew from Kiwanis. After explaining the circumstances he agreed to change the locks by ten tomorrow morning. I’d pay him later in the day.

My next call was to John Lynch. He was one of my plumbers and he’d been with me since my first day. He was older than me by about ten years and was one hundred percent reliable. I had used him to supervise the other men several times when I had taken Terri and the girls to Disney World or on other vacations. He had refused any additional pay, claiming he was just happy having an understanding boss and a steady job.

I explained what had happened and he was furious. Like Chet Collins, John was extremely religious and a strong believer in monogamous marriage. I knew he would follow my instructions to the letter. My other men were also good responsible workers so I had no reason for concern. I told him to tell Carolyn that I’d be in later—probably by ten.

I sat back in the chair wondering first why Terri had thrown everything away for about twenty-five thousand dollars. I was worth more than a hundred times that. The only thing I could think of was that she was obsessed with being the wife of a college graduate—someone she thought was genteel. One thing I knew—that term would never describe Robert Ernst. He dressed and acted like a slob who had an inflated opinion of his own worth. “Narcissist”—that was the term I needed. Everything revolved around him. What a waste. As bad as it would be for me, it would be that much worse for my wonderful daughters. I resolved in that instant to do everything I could to ease the burden on them.

>>>>>>

I needn’t have worried about my girls. They chipped in with housework and even cooking with Glenda Hoskins’ help. I once even caught her cleaning the house during the day. It was another day when I had to return home to change my clothes when I walked in to find her cleaning the venetian blinds. She looked at me, smiled, and returned to work.

And so, we settled into a routine that was mostly drudgery for me and not much better for my daughters. That was why I always tried to do something fun on the weekends. Then one day almost a month later everything changed.

I was in the supermarket on a Thursday afternoon in early October shopping for food for the coming week. I swear–I had never realized how much food kids could put away. What Andrea and Chrissy ate every day would put twenty pounds onto me in just a month. I was in the canned foods aisle and had just placed four cans of tuna in my basket when I looked up to see the most incredible woman walking up the other way. She was tall and slender with curves where they should be and she was pretty good looking, too. After my two months of self-imposed chastity (other than using my right hand) she was a stone fox in my opinion. Best of all, I saw no wedding or engagement rings on her fingers.

She looked me in the eyes as she passed on the other side of the aisle. “Hello,” I said. I had never been too clever in these situations.

“Hello, back,” she replied with a smile. Unfortunately, she reached the end of the aisle and turned the wrong way. She went right, away from where I was going. Oh, well!

I turned right to continue my shopping and was almost halfway up the next aisle when I saw her turn the corner ahead of me. “Hello, again,” I said with a smile. She didn’t reply, but she did smile as we passed. We met again on the next aisle. I stopped this time and accosted her. “Now I know I’m being stalked.”

She laughed as she checked out my uniform shirt. “I didn’t think plumbers were victims of stalkers.”

“Um, they’re mostly not, but I own the company so I guess I could be a target.”

“Maybe,” she commented as she leaned forward to check out my name on my shirt. “Uh…Tim, sorry, but I don’t stalk married men.” She pointed then to my ring.

“Yeah…well, I’ve really been busy since she left and I can’t get it off. I’ll need a jeweler to cut it and I just haven’t been able to find the time.”

“I am so sorry if I offended you. I know exactly how you feel. That’s pretty much what happened to me about eight years ago.”

“Excuse me for being forward, but he must have been an idiot. You’re a gorgeous woman.”

“No man should ever have to apologize for giving a woman a compliment.” I would have loved to continue the discussion, but lines were building up behind us. She noticed and began to leave. “I’m Amy. Maybe I’ll see you again next week.”

I would have said, “I hope so,” but she had already gone. I finished my shopping and stood in what seemed to be a longer line than usual at the cashier. Then I saw Amy rush up with what looked to be a forgotten item. Her cart was three in front of mine so I could hear her when the cashier said $112.63 and she replied, “Oh, I don’t have that much. I don’t know what to do.” She turned to all of us on line to apologize, but before she could get, “I’m sorry,” out of her mouth I was handing the cashier a $50 bill.

“I can’t take that from you, Tim.”

I was almost laughing when I said, “I didn’t give it to you. I gave it to the cashier.” I walked back to my cart before she could say another word where another customer—an older woman– told me that I had been very kind.

Amy had pushed her cart out of the way when she returned to speak with me. “You forgot your change.” She held the bills and coins out to me.

“I think you should keep it. When do you get paid again?”

“Next Friday.”

“Well, what are you going to do if you need gas or something from the drug store? You obviously have at least one child unless you have a taste for Fruit Loops. Listen, I have plenty of money and I’d appreciate it if you’d just consider it a gift. I’m not expecting anything back. You needed something that I had and I gave it to you. It’s that simple. You’d better get moving or your ice cream will melt.” I smiled; she smiled back and walked away.

“Smooth, Tim,” I thought. “You’ll never get laid at this rate.” Oh, well! That was an expression I was getting to know too often. My attention returned to the line. I was almost to the cashier so I pulled out my rewards card and waited while the woman in front of me dug around in her purse for the money. Maybe she thought I’d help her, too. Sorry, but Santa comes only once a year.

The supermarket we use doesn’t have one of those belts like they have at Walmart. The cashier unloads the items from the cart and an aide places them into bags. The first time I went shopping I didn’t give a thought to the bags, but I’ve quickly learned the difference between paper and plastic. I always take paper, except for things that might leak like ice cream or rotisserie chicken.

I had paid and was on the way to my truck when Amy intercepted me. “I want to thank you, Tim. It was very kind of you to help a total stranger.”

“You’re hardly a stranger, Amy. A stalker, maybe, but a stranger…never.” She smiled again and I knew that my generosity had been worthwhile.

“I insist in repaying you. Will you come to dinner tomorrow night?”

“You know I have two girls—Andrea is thirteen and Chrissy is eleven and they eat like it’s going out of style.”

“Bring them, all the same. I have a daughter, Amber, who’s twelve.” She handed me a piece of paper with
her address and phone number. “Six, okay? Please?”

I knew we had no plans and she was really a gorgeous woman so…. “Okay, thank you; we’ll see you then. I recognize the address. I have some customers just up the block.” Amy left and I finished putting my groceries in the truck’s rear seat. I was on my way home minutes later.

I thanked Mrs. Hoskins, paid her, and told her we wouldn’t need dinner tomorrow. “Are we going out, Daddy?”

“Yes, we are. We’ve been invited to dinner by a woman I met at the supermarket.”

Chrissy and Andrea looked at each other and grinned. Speaking as one they asked, “Is she hot, Daddy?”

“THAT is none of your business. I will tell you that she has a twelve year-old daughter so I think you’ll have someone to talk to besides me for a change.” I grilled a ham steak with baked potatoes and frozen peas that I was able to nuke just before we sat down. Terri had never been big on religion, but since she had left us we agreed to have a blessing before every meal. Tonight it was Chrissy’s turn—big mistake.

“Thank you God for helping our family, especially Daddy. We need him so much now and we know how busy he is trying to be our mother and father. Thank you for our food and our health. I pray that Daddy’s new friend is really hot. Amen.”

“Chrissy!”

“Well, Daddy—you always tell us to be honest.”

“You do, Daddy.”

“Okay, you win—she is hot.”

“Really hot, Daddy?”

“Don’t push your luck; time for eating, not idle chatter.” After dinner they went to finish their homework while I cleaned up the dishes and took out the trash. There wasn’t much so I was done quickly. Then I went into the home office and went online to Google “Amy Chambers.”

I found her Facebook page where I learned a bit about her history and her family. I saw her mom and dad and her daughter, Amber in several vacation photos—Disney World and Universal Studios. Looking at her mother I could see where she got her good looks and her body. Looking down the list of Google citations I learned that she was a legal secretary at a big local firm. I knew that they made decent money, but that didn’t mean that she had money to burn. Daughters and parents can become ill and daughters might need braces. I knew that mine had. And then there were expenses like rent or mortgage, electricity, phone, gas, and whatever else might be on her list. I knew that mine seemed to go on forever.

I turned to my drafting table where I checked the plans for the Johansen renovation. We were almost ready to begin. They’d decided to go top drawer, even expanding the bathroom to include a large whirlpool tub by removing a non-weight bearing wall in an adjacent bedroom and repositioning it eighteen inches. The bedroom, currently used as an office now would be slightly smaller, but their bathroom would be incredible. There would be a large skylight in the middle of the ceiling and ultra high-end plumbing and electrical fixtures. It would be the most expensive renovation I’d ever done and I wanted to make sure it was done right from beginning to end. I quit at nine, just in time to hug and kiss my daughters good night.

>>>>>>

Friday flew by in what seemed to be an instant and then I was on my way home. I paid Glenda as I did every day—for some reason she never shared that was the only way she’d accept it–and wished her well for the weekend. I sent the girls to the bathroom to shower and change into something better than school clothes while I retreated to the master bath where I also showered and shaved then changed into a golf shirt, slacks, and cordovan loafers. I put on my best watch then rubbed my finger where my wedding ring had been. We had two jewelers in Kiwanis and I was good friends with one. I’d bought Terri many pieces of jewelry from him over the years. It was hard to ask him to remove my ring, but I did. I was almost in tears when I asked him, but then I realized that I had done nothing other than love Terri unconditionally and give her a much better quality of life than she’d ever have in the future. This was all on her. I asked my friend to melt it down to a lump that I could keep on my dresser as a reminder of what a fool I had married.

We were in the truck by 5:30, Chrissy holding two bottles of wine—one a chilled chardonnay and one merlot just to cover all the bases. I pulled into Amy’s driveway at 5:54 p.m. “Her name is Amy and her daughter is Amber. Any questions?”

“Jeez Daddy, it’s dinner, not meeting the President. We do know how to behave.”

“Sorry; I guess I’m a bit nervous. I haven’t done anything like this in almost twenty years, long before I married your mother.”

“Ex-mother, Daddy; we don’t want anything to do with her. Why don’t we ring the bell? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” They almost jumped out of the truck with me trailing behind. They rang the bell just as I stepped onto the porch.

I listened with amusement when the door opened. “Hello…you must be Mr. Tim. I’m Amber. Hi, are you Andrea?” She continued once Andrea had nodded. “Then you’re obviously Chrissy. Want to come up to my room? I have XBOX ONE and lots of games. C’mon.” I stood there in amazement as the three of them ran up the stairs. I closed the door and walked in to find the kitchen. She was there stirring something in a big pot.

“Hello, Tim; thanks for coming. Stew okay with you guys?”

“We love it, but we haven’t been able to have any since…well, you know. I brought some wine—merlot and chardonnay. She handed me a corkscrew while she put the chardonnay into the refrigerator.

“Amber seems to be a bundle of energy.”

“She is and she’s on her best behavior tonight. You should see her most nights. I shouldn’t complain, she really is a good kid.”

“So are mine. They’ve been so supportive since their mother took off. They actually caught her screwing the guy—her sleazy boss—more than two months before I did.” I explained what had happened and what I did while Amy laughed.

“I don’t think too many men would have touched his scrotum.”

“Well, I had just come from a stopped sewer line where someone flushed the toilet so I had quite a mess on my hands earlier. Whether you’re a parent or a plumber you learn right away that it washes off so it was no big deal. Kicking him with my steel-toed boots—now, that was a big deal.”

“Ouch!”

“Yeah, double ouch. Why don’t we talk about something else? What do you do for a living?” She told me all about her job and the special skills it required. Amy had started out as a regular secretary, but was taken under the wing of one of the partners once her husband had disappeared in the middle of the night. She had gone to sleep with a husband and a four year-old daughter and awoken with just Amber. That was even shittier than what had happened with me. She had moved up the ladder once she had mastered the requisite skills and was now the personal secretary to one of the partners. She was pleased with her progress and was even happier that the firm’s non-fraternization policy was strictly enforced. She told me that she didn’t need any unwanted attentions. “Some lawyers can be really smarmy,” she told me.

“Accountants, too,” I replied with a wry smile.

“What about plumbers?”

“We’re the children of God. Didn’t you know?”

“Actually,” she laughed, “I think a little birdie told me yesterday. I still can’t believe you were so kind.”

“It really wasn’t that big a deal.”

“I’m sure to you it wasn’t, but it sure was to me. I needed everything in my cart. I earn a decent living, but there’s no room for frills. I know it and so does Amber. She hates what her father did to us.”

“It was cowardly. That’s the only way to describe it. If Terri had told me that she wanted a divorce I would have agreed. Of course, I would have kept the house and my business because they were mine before we married and, because of that, I probably would have gotten custody of the girls. They hate their mother for what she did to me and how she tried to manipulate them. They refer to her as their ‘ex-mother.’”

“I can’t say that I blame them. What the hell was wrong with that man? Couldn’t he afford a cheap motel?”

“I’ve thought about that and I think he was marking his territory by doing it in my bed. That was his feeble attempt at showing himself to be more masculine than I was. I don’t know. I doubt that I ever will. More important, I really don’t care—not any longer.”

Amy checked on the stew then placed a tray of rolls into the oven. “Ten minutes; do your daughters need to wash up?”

“I doubt it. They were only out of the shower a few minutes before coming over here…me, too, in case you were wondering.” Amy just smiled in response. She walked to the stairs and called for Amber. All three hustled down the stairs. I made the introductions and offered to help Amy as the three girls sat at the table.
A few minutes later the rolls were out of the oven and into a bowl that was covered with a cloth napkin. Then Amy began to scoop hearty servings of stew that I carried to the table. Chrissy spoke up once we were all seated. “Could we say a blessing, Amy? We started when you-know-who left us and we do it every night now.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Chrissy. Would you like to do the honors?” I cringed when Chrissy smiled.
We held hands just like we did at home and Chrissy led us in prayer. “Heavenly father, thank you for our food and for our new friend, Amber. Thanks, too for Amy who is even nicer than Daddy said she was. Amen.”

There was a chorus of “amen’s” and I breathed a sigh of relief, especially after Chrissy’s grace last night when she prayed that Amy was “really hot.” Looking at her now I’d say that Chrissy’s prayers had been answered.

We enjoyed the dinner and the company even more. It was the first time in—a while, anyway—that we all laughed. I noticed Amy reach out to touch me—my arm and hand—several times as we chatted away. Andrea and Amber asked for seconds, but not me. My helping was more than I’d usually eat and I had always found stew to be really filling. Once dinner was done I was shooed to the living room where Andrea brought me a can of cold beer and I watched the news on TV while they cleaned up the kitchen and dining area.

I looked around the room, noticing for the first time that the house was small and sparsely furnished, but as neat as neat could be. The furniture was old, but well-maintained. I guessed that I was drinking the very first beer or soda ever consumed in this room. I felt honored. I also knew I’d be extra careful.

I could hear laughter coming from the kitchen and I smiled, knowing somehow that they were talking about me. I didn’t mind at all. I knew that laughter healed many ills. Turning back to the TV I tried to concentrate on the news, but it was just as depressing as my life had been for the past months. I changed the channel, looking for ESPN.

After more than half an hour I began to worry. I could still hear the women in the kitchen, but they should have been done a long time ago. A few minutes later Amy joined me on the couch, sitting next to me—not too close, but close enough, if you get my drift. “Everything okay,” I asked.

“Oh, yes—of course. I love your girls. They’re sweet and funny—smart, too. It’s very clear how much they love you. A lot of kids start to rebel at this age, you know.”

“Yeah, I do. I have some older guys who work for me. The stories they’ve told me are scary. One of my guys—his daughter got involved with a bad crowd. Next thing he knew she was four months pregnant. They’re Catholic, like us, so abortion was out of the question although personally I think I would have insisted—sin or no sin. I’m putting both of them on birth control in a couple of weeks when they next see their gynecologist.” I had to laugh. “I’m not looking forward to that appointment—no way. There’s something about being the only male in a sea of pregnant women. It’s almost as bad as shopping for bras and panties. There are some things a man should never have to do.”

Amy laughed, but put her hand gently on my thigh. Under other circumstances I thought that maybe I’d get lucky tonight, but there were three young girls lurking around somewhere so I knew that absolutely nothing was going to happen.

Suddenly they ran into the room shouting and jumping up and down. “Daddy, Daddy…Amber just had the greatest idea. Can we have a sleepover? Please, Daddy?”

“I don’t know, honey. I think we’ve imposed on Amy’s hospitality enough for one night, besides you don’t have anything to wear.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem, Tim. Chrissy can wear one of Amber’s nightgowns and I can lend Andrea one of my t-shirts. Their clothes are clean enough to wear tomorrow, I’m sure. Amber has a big bed—a double and she has a sleeping bag with a foam pad. I’ll take good care of them. Why don’t you take the night off?”

I looked at her, noticing her sincerity, and then I checked the three girls and I had an idea, one that would work out for all of us. “I’ll agree on one condition—I planned on taking Andrea and Chrissy to the aquarium tomorrow. They can stay if you’ll agree to come with us.”

“Please, Amy,” Chrissy begged. “The aquarium is so neat and Daddy always takes us to Nathan’s—the real one—after for lunch.”

Amy looked at me, her eyes pools of liquid blue. “I didn’t know there was an aquarium around here.”

“It’s in Coney Island, maybe half a mile or so from the boardwalk and the amusement parks. Chrissy loves watching the trainers test the electric eel. There’s no accounting for some people’s tastes.”

“Daddy!” I pulled Chrissy to me and hugged her, wondering how much longer I’d be able to do that. I had just released her when Amy agreed. The three youngsters were ecstatic. They ran up the stairs, yelling and jumping all the way.

“I really don’t want to be a drag on you, Tim. You’ve already done so much for us. I’m ashamed to take any more.”

“Amy, plumbing is a very lucrative business. I have fifteen employees who go out every day and earn money for me. Of course, they’re in a union and I have responsibilities to them, but every day my crew works I clear roughly a thousand dollars. Life has been a bitch since Terri left us so I always make the weekends fun for Andrea and Chrissy. Having money is only important if you can do something positive with it. They need to have fun and so do I. They love the aquarium and Coney Island, too. I think it will be even better with you and Amber to share it with us.”

“I was right when I said you were an especially kind man, Tim. We’ll be very happy to join you.” We spent the next hour talking and laughing together and—yes–she did touch me several times and—yes—I did enjoy every time. Finally, around ten I called Andrea and Chrissy to say good-bye to them. We hugged as we did every night and kissed. I didn’t remind them to behave. I knew they would.

I was just about to leave when I asked Amy what time I should pick everyone up in the morning. “You tell me. How long will it take us to get there and how long at the aquarium?”

“It’ll be Saturday, but there will still be traffic so I figure an hour and two, at least, in the aquarium plus another five minutes to get to Coney Island for lunch. Ummm, nine o’clock okay?”

“Perfect; Amber and I are early risers, although with company tonight who knows?”

“They can always sleep in the car.”

“Are we going in your truck?”

“No, I have commercial plates on it so I can’t drive on the parkways. We have a minivan that their mother used to drive.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t take it with her. Cars are expensive.”

“I could have had her arrested if she did. Both vehicles belong to my business—tax advantages. Okay, I had a great time…my first in a long time. Thanks.”

“Thank you, Tim. None of it would have happened without you.” She reached up to kiss my cheek then I was out the door, knowing that I’d wear out my right hand and arm tonight.

Next–our relationship grows.

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