Believing is Seeing

I heard her try the door handle, then knock on the door. I had locked it so she couldn't get in and I knew she didn't have her key with her. "Sam!" she cried. "What has gotten into you? What are you talking about? Sam, please open the door and talk to me!"

"Get the fuck out of here, you bitch! We have nothing to say to each other. I saw you blowing Rick last Sunday, with that purple stripe in your hair, just to please him. You rinsed the stripe out to fool me, I see, but it didn't work. I saw it all, you lying bitch. Now get the fuck out of here!" I was so angry I couldn't see straight. I was barely aware of what I was saying.

"Sam," she cried, "I can explain everything! It's not what it seems! Please, Sam, talk to me! Please!" She was crying her eyes out now. Good.

"Fuck you, bitch!" I said. "Just fuck you!" And I sat there, waiting for her to leave. After a while, I heard her car pull out of the driveway and go down the street.

The thing of it is, it didn't feel as good as I thought it would. I thought telling her what a slut she was, how we were finished, and how I thought she was a no good cunt would make me feel better, but it didn't. I was such a fucking idiot that I still loved her, even after what she did to me, and hurting her was just hurting me, as if I didn't hurt enough already.

It was an hour before I got the phone call. It was Marge, according to caller ID. "Hello, Marge," I said in my best sarcastic voice, "how nice to hear from you."

"What are you using for brains, Sam?" Marge asked between clenched teeth. "You really hurt her. You are a complete, and I mean complete, idiot."

"No, Marge," I said, "I'm a cuckold. Ask your daughter about it." And I hung up.

It turns out you can't stay mad for days. The anger disappeared and slowly turned into depression again. I tried to figure out what I did wrong, why she would do what she did. I thought maybe it didn't have anything to do with me. Maybe it was just her way of saying she's tired of me, not that she's saying there's anything wrong with me. Maybe she wanted some excitement. Maybe it was a way of releasing some of the pent up stress she was a having. And maybe it was a way of tearing my heart out. If that's what it was, it certainly worked.

Sunday morning, I got another call. This time it was Jenny's phone. I reluctantly picked up.

"Sam," she said. "I'm sorry about this whole mess. I think we should talk." She didn't sound sorry to me, quite frankly.

"Okay, talk," I said. I was still in a snippy mood.

"Not on the phone," she said, "in person. I'll be there in an hour." She hung up, probably trying to avoid a new volley of epithets I was about to hurl in her direction.

So I waited for her. I went through the scenario in my mind. She'd walk to the front door, timidly tapping on it. I'd open it and she'd look at me with tears in her eyes. She'd ask to come in, just to talk. I'd let her in and have her sit in the couch, while I sat in the recliner, as far away from her as I could. She'd cry a bit, then tell me she was so sorry, she didn't know what got into her, she's had a lot of stress at work, she doesn't know who she is anymore, blah, blah, blah. Then I'd tell her I know exactly who and what she is and I wanted nothing to do with her. I'd tell her to get a lawyer and her lawyer and mine would duke it out. Then I would politely but firmly escort her out of the house, forever.

I heard the car pull up in the driveway. I waited for the knock on the door; it was still locked, so she had no choice. The knock wasn't the soft tap I was expecting; it was a pounding. I walked over to the door and opened it.

Jenny stood there, but there were no tears in her eyes. No, her eyes held nothing but anger. "You're a fucking idiot," She started.

"So your mother told me," I replied.

"And she's right!" Jenny yelled. "How dare you accuse me of those things?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I saw them with my own eyes?" I said. I glared at her, daggers in my eyes.

"You didn't see shit, you dumbfuck" Jenny spat, "and you jumped to conclusions without talking to me first. You're a fucking idiot." She turned toward the car and yelled out, "Kathy, can you come here?"

Out of the car came Kathy, walking toward the door. I was stunned at how beautiful this woman was. I was also stunned by how she looked just like Jenny...except Kathy had a purple stripe in her hair.

Oh, fuck.

"Can we come in?" Jenny asked, with an edge to her voice that would slice through solid steel.

"Uh, sure," I gulped. This was not going to be good.

Jenny and Kathy sat on the couch. I took a chair directly across from them. I couldn't believe how alike they were. I shook my head. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

"Do you recognize Kathy, by any chance?" The sarcasm dripped from Jenny's voice.

"Well, now that you mention it," I backpedaled, "she does look kind of familiar. Are you related, perhaps?" I swallowed a couple of times.

"Good guess, Sherlock," Jenny said. "She's my twin sister. Get it, doofus?"

I got it. I got it good. I nodded.

Jenny softened, just a bit. "Look," she said, "I didn't tell you about her because there were some...issues." Kathy winced when Jenny looked at her.

It was Kathy's turn to talk. "Sam, we've never met and I'm guessing that you don't know anything about me. The reason is because Jen was ashamed of me." Jenny started to object, but Kathy shut her down. "I've had a lot of things going on in my life, not many of them good. It all started when our dad was arrested for murder. We didn't know it, but he was a goon for the mob and his job was to break bones to make sure certain 'customers' complied with the terms of whatever agreement they had. Dad got carried away once and ended up killing someone. He got caught and put away. With him went our source of income. Mom tried her best to keep us fed, but it was a losing battle. I got really depressed and started doing drugs, some sort of escape, I guess. And you know how it goes with drugs, you'll do anything to get them. So I started doing tricks for the locals. I got drugs and a few bucks for my troubles. I also got a bunch of diseases. I finally hit bottom about six months ago and came back home to mom. Jen had been giving her some money, so mom wasn't starving anymore. I thought maybe mom could help me out of the mess I was in. Well, she tried, but it became clear that she couldn't do it. So mom called Jen. Jen got me set up in an apartment and got me clean. It was pretty tough for a while, but we got past it. I couldn't have done it without Jen coming by on the weekends to help me. I almost died, Sam. Jen saved me." There were tears in her eyes as she told this. I joined her tears with my own.

"Jenny," I said, "why didn't you tell me? I could have helped."

"I didn't want you to know," Jenny said with a sad shrug. "I was embarrassed by my family. I didn't want you to know what stock I came from. In fact, if this whole thing with Rick hadn't come up, I'm not sure I would have ever told you."

"That's dishonest and insulting," I said. "You have been lying to me. And you insult me by assuming I would think less of you because of your family."

Jenny nodded, her eyes planted firmly on the floor.

"And come to think of it, Kathy," I said, "how did you start with Rick?"

"Oh," Kathy smiled, rather sadly, "Jen told me about Rick, your smooth talking neighbor. She told me all sorts of things. Once I got straightened out, I thought I would come by and see what all the talk was about. He was a lot of fun, actually. I guess you saw part of it. Since I had Jen's car and she was on a business trip, I decided to stop by Rick's and chat a bit. Sometimes we didn't chat all that much. But after six months, I kind of had the urge, you know?" She looked at me pleadingly, like she wanted forgiveness.

"I know, Kathy," I said, "believe me, I know." I hesitated and looked at Jenny. She was frowning at me. I swallowed hard. "Jenny, I think this is where I plead with you to forgive me? And this is where maybe you say that you do? And this is certainly where I promise I will never, ever be so stupid again in my life. Please? I know I'm an idiot." My throat was so tight it was hard to talk.

Jenny looked at me and said, "How could you think I would do something like that to you? And how could you say those hurtful things to me?"

"Come on, Jenny," I protested, "spouses get tossed aside all the time, and it's generally a complete surprise when it happens. Look at what it looks like from my side. You're gone a lot, you say you are at your mom's but she hasn't seen you for months, I stumble across someone who looks exactly like you giving Rick a blow job, and you had no interest in having sex with me. What the hell was I supposed to think?"

Jenny shrugged. "I guess you're right, but it still hurt."

"Damn right, babe," I said, "it hurt a lot. Do you know what it felt like when I saw, knew, that I had lost the best thing in my life? Do you know how much it hurt to find out that I meant almost nothing to you, that I was dispensable? Can you imagine what it felt like to know that my life was over because the only reason for living was with someone else? I know now that it wasn't true, that I had misunderstood, but can you grasp the pain I felt? Can you?" I stared at her as she nodded.

"Yes, Sam," she said quietly, "I know exactly what it feels like because that's what I felt when I first came back from my trip and you starting accusing me of doing all those things. Even though I eventually figured out what had happened, until I did, I thought we were done. I didn't see you screw anybody, so I avoided that pain, but I got all the rest. I know what it feels like. I'm sorry."

I walked over, picked her up, brushed the tears from her eyes, and gave her the most passionate kiss I could. We continued until we heard Kathy clear her throat.

"Okay if I drive back to my apartment, Jen?" she asked. "It looks like you guys have some things to do, things I don't really want to hang around for. You can pick the car up from my place later." Kathy grabbed the keys off the table and we heard the car back out of the driveway and roar down the road.

I cleared my throat. "You know," I said, "I heard a rumor that makeup sex is absolutely the best."

"Yeah," Jenny said, "I've heard that, too. Think maybe we should check it out ourselves? We can't really trust what other people say."

"Yes, I do," I said. "But be aware this can lead to kids."

Jenny smiled. "One can only hope."

It turns out the rumor is true, although it took us many tries to verify it. We wanted to be sure, after all.

It also turned out that neither one of the kids slowed us down much at all.

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