Ambushed

"You can get yourself cleaned up," I said as I walked past her through the kitchen. "I'm going to the folk's place for a while. See you when I get back." Then I got into the truck and left.

I walked into the folk's house and saw dad sitting on a kitchen chair. "Claire just called asking if you were here yet. I told her no. You were still outside so I wasn't lying. What's up with you two this morning?" he asked.

I related the story of yesterday while he sat and listened. After a moment to think about it he asked, "Well, what are you going to do now? Are you going to hide from her all day or are you going to hash this out? It's up to you. I don't get into other people's quarrels." I nodded. It was true, he didn't do that. About eleven or so, I decided to go back home. She should have had enough time to get cleaned up and I was calmed down.

I pulled into my spot noticing her car was gone and went inside. The apartment was silent. 'Now what?' I thought as I walked through the rooms. Again, no notes or messages either. This shit was getting old in a hurry. She'd never been a game player, preferring to get problems out of the way. I sat down at the kitchen table to think. I went and checked the answering machine. Nope, nothing there. I called dad and told him what I had found.

"You have no idea where she is at all?" he asked. "Did you have any plans for this weekend at all? A movie or a trip to the lake?"

"No, we hadn't planned on anything at all," I replied. "I really don't know what is going on here. Well, if she shows up over there, would you call me and let me know?"

"Ok Hal, I will," my dad replied.

I went into the bedroom and looked under the bed. Then I went to the clothes hamper. There were her work clothes from yesterday. They smelled smoky. Well, yeah, she'd been out drinking, so it must have been at some smoky bar. I checked around the toilet. No, she hadn't puked from the drinking. That kind of surprised me. She had never been one to hold her drink very well.

No notes. No messages. She'd called my folks to see if I was there. Now her car was gone. Where the hell was she and what was going on? I was really regretting not talking to her this morning to get this out of the way. We'd always talked things out. Looks like she decided to not talk to me since I didn't talk to her. I had to stop because all of a sudden my head was in a whirl and I couldn't think anymore. I walked to the front door and stood there, staring out at the street. I wasn't really looking, I was just standing there. I had a real bad feeling about this, but I didn't know what it meant.

Finally, I needed something to do. I got in the truck and went to the dealership. I drove past the bank, but it was closed for the weekend. I pulled into the dealership and walked around. I checked to see if she had called and left any messages with anyone. Nope, nobody had heard from her and what was I doing at work on a Saturday? I nodded and left. I drove slowly around town for a couple of hours, just looking and thinking.

At last I found myself at home, so I parked and went inside. I realized I wasn't mad any longer. Now I was scared and didn't know why, but then we'd never done this to each other before. Trying to get past that feeling, I started cleaning the apartment. I vacuumed, wiped down, washed, swept and bagged. I did all the dishes I could find, hauled all the garbage out, and ran two loads of laundry.

I was folding the last of the towels when a car pulled up out front. I looked through the screen door and saw a black Beemer. After a few minutes, Claire got out of the car and came to the house. She came in and stopped, just looking at me while I sat next to the folded clothes.

She tilted her head and asked, "What's your problem, asshole?"

"What's my problem? Who's an asshole? Just what the fuck is going on here?" I retorted. "I'm 15 minutes late to pick you up at the bank and you aren't around. You aren't home. You aren't at the folk's. You finally stagger in here drunk on your ass and collapse." I was getting into this and continued. "No notes, no messages, nothing on the answering machine. Obviously you had a good time. Did you have a better time because I wasn't there? Would you mind telling me who you were with and what was going on?"

She stood there looking at me while I unloaded on her. "Are you through?" she said quietly.

"Yeah, I'm through," I growled back.

"Well, if you'd called yesterday and left a message you were going to be late, I would have told you about the party. If you had talked to me this morning instead of being nasty and then running away, I would have told you about the cook out we were invited to for today. Since you can't be bothered to tell me anything, I can't be bothered either."

"Now just hold on there a minute missy," I spat back at her. "I told you about the audit team which showed up. I didn't call because I was looking for a $53,000 mistake. Like I said, I was only 15 minutes late, but even the drive thru was closed. Now, are you finally going to tell me about this party I wasn't invited to as well as today's activities? I would really like to pretend to myself that I have some sort of standing in your oh so busy life." I finished snarling at her and leaned back on the sofa waiting for her to speak. I was trying to calm myself down.

She didn't say a word, just walked into the bedroom. After a few moments, she came out dressed in her robe and passed through into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I heard the shower start, so with a sigh, I picked up the laundry and put it all away. I went to the cabinet where we kept our alcohol and made my self a JD on the rocks. Then I sat on the sofa and waited.

Eventually she finished in the bathroom and went back into the bedroom, all without saying a word. I did catch her looking at the drink in my hand. I drank half of it down, gasping a little at the burn. She came out of the bedroom dressed in a blouse and skirt. She went into the kitchen and sat at the table. I got up and followed her, sat down, and waited for her to speak.

"Now that you are calmed down," she said with a pointed look at the glass in my hand, "Steve closed the bank early so we could go to a party at his house. I expected you to be there waiting for me. Morgana told me that she called you and gave you the message and the directions. I specifically asked her if she told you or someone else.

She said she talked to you. Morgana dropped me off here last night on her way home. Since you couldn't bother to talk to me this morning, I didn't have a chance to tell you we were invited to a cookout out at the lake at noon today. If you would rather run around by yourself, then go ahead, but I'm not the bad guy here because of your inadequacies."

I sat for a moment, holding my mad down inside. It wouldn't do any good at this point to start screaming. Finally I said, "Morgana is a liar, plain and simple. Stewart was with me looking for that mistake and the phone didn't ring. Nobody called and gave me any messages, either here or at work," I said before I paused for a smaller sip of JD.

"Today when I arrived at the folk's, dad told me that you called to see if I was there yet. You had the opportunity to tell dad about the cookout. Why didn't you? You could have asked him to tell me to call if you didn't want to tell him about the cook out. Again, why didn't you?

I left dad about 11:00 and came home and you were gone again. You say this cook out was at noon and it takes half an hour to get to the lake, so why weren't you here waiting for me? I got bored so I drove to work. The bank was closed again and nobody at work had any messages of any sort.

Now I would like to know about this party last night. And then I am going to call Stewart and since you don't believe me, you can talk to him about messages. I'll wait until Monday to call Morgana. I don't think I would carry on a lucid conversation with her at this point."

"Fine, you call Morgana whenever you want. I don't have a need to call Stewart. For all I know, you two have a plan to cover each other's ass and at this point I wouldn't be a bit surprised. The party was a combination house warming and welcome to the bank Steve hosted at his house. Since you preferred your parent's company, I called Steve and he was more than willing to drive me to the cookout. He didn't even tell me I stunk."

"Ok, so where is your car then? It wasn't parked out front when I got back home. I'm glad to see you got a ride with Steve, and I'm also glad that he didn't think you reeked of cigarette smoke and alcohol," I replied.

"It stalled down the street at the market and is still sitting in the parking lot. He picked me up there and brought me back here," she stated. At least she didn't deny she had reeked.

I decided to skip that part. Maybe that was why she took a shower before talking to me. Or did she need the shower for some other reason? I stuffed that question back wherever it came from. I didn't that kind of worry along with this party crap.

"Well, God forbid you make an effort to see that I am included. As a matter of fact, I have been feeling unwelcome and un-included for quite a while now. I can remember when we talked about these things ahead of time, and now it has degenerated to the point where we accuse and cuss instead of discuss."

I paused for a breath. I really needed to calm down. I started again before she could reply with, "Why would that be happening, Claire? We're married which means we are a couple. An invitation to one is implied to be invitation for both, but that doesn't seem to be the case lately. What's happened since Steve showed up to change how we treat each other?"

Claire sat still, looking at the table for a long while. I couldn't wait any more, so I asked, "What have I done wrong to be treated this way? Come on, Claire, I haven't changed how I've treated you, or at least I don't think I changed. Since when do you call me an asshole, and then try to blame my "inadequacies" as an excuse for your actions. This is so not like you Claire. It almost sounds as though someone has said those things about me and you have adopted their attitude. That tells me that you are buying into what is being said. Why would you choose someone else's attitude over me? As for me, what you see is still what you get. I sincerely hope that I haven't morphed into a scorned object, but I'm really worried about this change in attitude. Come on Claire, this is supposed to be a discussion between two people, not some sort of interrogation. Or has that changed also. I seem to be on the short end of the stick here."

Finally looking up at me Claire said, "How long have you been screwing Jane Hayes? When did you start your affair with her? Since when am I only second or even third best? How many others have you had sex with? Did you really think that you could keep your affairs secret? To restate one of your questions, what have I done wrong to be treated this way?"

I could see tears in her eyes as she dumped that on me. That revelation knocked me back in my chair. I was totally flabbergasted. What was this shit? "I have never screwed Jane Hayes. I have never touched Jane Hayes. I don't usually talk to Jane Hayes at work because she is on the other side of the building and because her job has nothing to do with my job. Where did this unbelievable load of horse shit come from, Claire? Who's been making unfounded and untrue allegations about me? Or her, for that matter? And it's only because we are fighting that you tell me about these lied. Holy shit, Claire, I never would have thought you could believe anything like this about me."

"You deny you have been spending your lunch time fucking Jane in Mr. Baker's office every day?" she asked. Her face was neutral and her voice was flat. The tears streaming down her face were real. She was badly hurt. I was steaming mad.

"Yes, I do!" I said a little more vehemently than I had intended. "Jane Hayes works for Mr. Baker. Mr. Baker doesn't take lunch breaks away from his office because Mrs. Baker brings his lunch from home. It has

something to do with his diet.

I can't be screwing Jane in his office because he is in his office. I take my half hour lunch in the break room, just as I've done since I started there. Now please tell me who's spreading this shit around. I'm sure Jane will also like to know."

After a moment, Claire sighed and leaned forward with her arms on the table. She wasn't ready to concede anything to me. She continued by asking, "You don't know that Jane and Marshall Hayes are getting a divorce because Mr. Baker caught screwing you in his office? He had to find somebody to break the door down and caught you with your pants down, so to speak."

I was incredulous. "No fucking way," I finally managed to spit out. I had an idea. "Get your shoes on," I said, "we're going for a drive."

She must have seen something in my eyes because she got her shoes on in record time. We got in the truck, and I drove Claire to the back side of the dealership's office. I went to the back door and let us inside. I headed directly to Mr. Baker's office and stopped outside the door. "Look at this door," I ordered Claire. "Does it look as though it has been kicked in or broken in or even touched? Does it look brand new because it replaced a broken door? Where are the marks on the frame or around the handle?"

This last I was almost screaming. Most of the doors there are the cheap hollow core type, but Mr. Baker has a solid metal door for his office. It was painted the same and looked like the others, but that was for camouflage. The company safe was inside, hidden in a concrete cabinet built into the wall. Only a few of us know that. I reached forward and unlocked the door with my key.

Stepping back, I said, "Go ahead, Claire. Open the door."

She looked at me in surprise at the heavy feel as she tried to push it open. I took pity on her and helped push it open. I stepped into the office and held the door for her. She looked at the door, gauging its thickness and hefty appearance. She looked at me with a confused look, but then I moved and let Claire look behind me.

She gasped when she saw Mr. Baker's desk and chair. Mr. Baker had some physical problems that he took great pains to keep concealed from the public. Even under these circumstances, he wouldn't be happy to know that I had shown Claire. He had the one piece desk and chair combination found in schools. Nobody could have sex on his desk, even with lots of help. It was too damn small. Claire was at a total loss for words.

I relocked his office and took her to the break room. I got a diet soda for her and a regular soda for me from the machines. That's right. He had more school desks in here. Mr. Baker bought these used desks from the school district when they went through some renovations a few years back. There was a 'normal' table with four chairs in the back of the room. Under other circumstances her reactions would have been comical. She turned red and her mouth flapped as she tried to speak.

"This is why everyone working here takes 30 minutes for lunch, Claire," I said softly. "We can't stand to sit on the damn things for longer than that. On the other side of the coin, I haven't seen your break area at the bank either. People just assume and this time they assumed wrong. You ready to talk now?" I finished.

She looked from the desks to me and then back again. Then she started to cry for real. Her face was wet and she was shaking when I took her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around me as tightly as she could and held on. I let her go on for a minute or so, then I handed her some Kleenex.

If someone had given me some hot gossip like that, I might have believed them. Then I really felt bad, because I could see myself jumping to the same conclusion without asking her about it first. Guess it's part of being human and fallible. We don't really like looking at our faults in the bright of day. Such introspection is better left to others.

Of course whoever started that story had a private agenda. I would have a talk with Mr. Baker on Monday. Yes, I would alert Helen at the same time, before things really got out of hand.

I escorted Claire back outside, locking up behind me as we went. She sat close to the truck door, resting her head on the glass without saying a word all the way home. We went inside and she went straight to the bathroom. I sat down at the kitchen table where I had been before our little trip and waited.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled at me as she came back into the kitchen. "I don't know who started that rumor or who all is passing it around. I was in the bathroom at work about a week ago and while I was in a stall, two of the girls came in and were talking about the mess at the dealership. At the time, I didn't know if they knew I was there, but after today I think that they did and I was set up for failure.

They were busy describing the looks on your faces when Mr. Baker came back from his lunch and caught you both. I'm so sorry. I know I should have asked you about it first, especially since an incident like that would have gotten you fired.

I trusted her to tell you about the party. Maybe she wanted me to go to the party at Steve's house without you, but I don't know any reasons why. I know I didn't trust you or believe enough in you to confront you and discuss what I had heard. I'm very sorry that I dragged us down like this. I love you so much and then I treat you so badly. I don't know why, it just seems to happen. I don't know that I can ever expect you to trust me after this.

I'm also sorry you had to show Mr. Baker's office to me. The worst part, I believe though, is that I don't think I would have believed it otherwise. I can't believe that you and I moved that far apart. I'm not sure what to believe in anymore, and I'm scared. I'm afraid of losing your love, your trust, and yes, I'm afraid of losing you. What's happening here, baby? "

"I don't know sweetheart," I replied, "but I'm going to be watching my back a lot closer now. And yes, I'm going to start watching you a lot closer. Uh, uh," I said raising my hand, "I'm not going to be watching because I don't trust you. I still believe in you and I haven't lost my trust. I'm supposed to be your protector and it looks as though I need to be doing a better job. I'm sorry too for my behavior. It takes two and I can't let you take the blame. We just need to keep holding onto each other."

I stood up and took her in my arms. The love we made that night was slow, warm, and as loving as we had ever made. We each needed to reassure ourselves of the love we had for each other.

There weren't any more incidents of that sort. I had the meeting with Mr. Baker and Helen on Monday as I said I would. Yes, Helen was getting a divorce, but it seems that her husband had been caught at his workplace. His sex partner was also being sued for divorce by her husband. They were both sorry about the new rumor. I was right about Mr. Baker being upset at my disclosure to Claire, but he said under the circumstances he understood. I promised that Claire wouldn't say anything. He accepted that and we all went back to work.

Steve held about 3 or 4 more parties at his house, but Claire made sure she called me and she refused to attend. No more lost messages for us. Then one Friday when I picked her up, she was quiet on the way home. These days we usually discussed our plans during the drive home instead of waiting until after dinner, but not this evening. I didn't push her, I just waited until we were in the kitchen.

Claire sat down at the table quietly and sat looking at her hands resting on the table top.

"I have a problem, I think," she started to say. I waited. "Remember the last Friday night party that Steve threw?"