Catwomen Caught Fictional Redux

I've taken javmor79 up on his invitation to write a fictional ending to what he maintains is a true story. You really need to read his story before this one - otherwise it will make no sense. This is NOT a stand-alone piece.

No cuckolds were actually harmed in the writing of this piece.

********************

As I laid rubber down Richard's street, I was still blinded by rage; when I went through a stop sign and almost got T-boned, I knew that I had to calm down. I pulled off to the side of the road, and took several dozen deep breaths like I did when coaching Alicia during Lamaze training before she delivered our two kids. It did help. I had to think. The first thing I did was to take the battery out of my cellphone.

My parents were watching our kids for the weekend - it was supposed to be a really grand one, where Alicia and I put all of the hassles of rearing an active four year old boy and precocious two year old girl behind us and re-connected. "Some re-connection," flashed through my brain, starting to get me white-hot again. I needed another series of deep breaths.

After a few minutes I realized what the first thing I had to do was. Whenever confronted with a serious problem in my life - although I'd have to say that this was the worst not just because Alicia had been fucking that moron Dominic but because of the humiliating way that she talked to me in front of more than a dozen people that we knew - I could only get through it if I took it one step at a time. Just like when I played High School football and the coach constantly preached "one game at a time." Most players thought that it was a bullshit cliché, however after a year in which we finished 3-7 when we should have been 7-3 we did embrace it the next year and won the conference championship.

Step one - go home, get the spare key to my parents' house, collect more clothes and toys for both of the kids, drive the half hour to their house, and then go in and sleep on the couch. There was no way that I wanted to see Alicia right now, and despite telling her to stay away I had no expectation that she would.

Step one accomplished, I lay on my parents' couch trying to sleep, but it was impossible. Therefore I concentrated on step two. It was probably almost light out before I settled on a step two - it would require the help of two family members, but I knew that I could count on them. I actually got a few hours of sleep before Jenny and Billy shrieked with joy when they saw that I was there and jumped on me, obviously quickly waking me up. I think that they were a little taken aback when I hugged them tight with tears in my eyes.

Jenny, way beyond her twenty eight months in verbal skills and perception, said "Why are you crying daddy? Are you so so said?"

"No darling," I stoically replied wiping away my tears. "I'm just so so happy to see my darling children, that's all."

That seemed to satisfy her.

My Mom and Dad were surprised to see me. They knew that all was not well, but didn't inquire in front of the children.

After a great breakfast where my Mom spoiled the kids with their favorite food - blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup and butter, something that they don't get at home - Mom sent Dad and the kids to run some errands. Since Billy and Jenny knew that grandpa was the biggest soft touch in the world at stores, they were happy to go with him.

The last giggle from Jenny as she exited the door had barely dissipated when Mom sat me down, held my hand, and asked "What's wrong - you look like Hell and coming here in the middle of the night is very suspicious behavior."

My Mom has a good head on her shoulders. She recently retired as a municipal court judge - my father was still working about thirty hours a week. I could always confide in her and get good advice - as long as I solicited it. She didn't butt in where not wanted.

I told her the story and step 2 of my plan. She shed a few tears then replied "Of course I'll help. Let's call Gail right now," Gail being my older sister who lived in the same state but 140 miles away. Mom talked to Gail first - then me. She was on board.

Gail and her husband Rudy didn't have kids - not because then didn't like them, but because Rudy had a problem (which was never discussed) and neither of them were interested in adoption. Billy and Jenny were their only nephew and niece and they adored them. Both Gail and Rudy worked, which is why Mom's involvement was necessary.

Mom told Dad the story while I played with the kids in the back yard. He gave me a big hug when I came back in and assured me that he was all in too.

Caller ID showed that Alicia had called three times on my parents' land line before I had the kids packed up and in the car, and Mom and I started driving to Gail's house. We never answered. Dad assured me that he wouldn't answer the phone or the door the rest of Saturday or on Sunday, and that he had an overnight business trip Monday and Tuesday and wouldn't be around.

We got to Gail's house mid-afternoon. We had as good a time as could be expected under the circumstances, and Gail and Rudy thoroughly enjoyed the kids. I took a few minutes out to buy a burner phone at one of the last remaining Radio Shacks.

Rudy is a police detective. After the kids went to bed on Saturday I had a heart-to-heart talk with him, sans mother and sister. His remark "Now I'm not suggesting this because it's not legal, but I just want to tell you what some people have done in your situation...," followed by an interesting story, was Very Helpful, and facilitated finalizing Steps 3 and 4 in my mind before I returned home Sunday late afternoon. Mom would watch the kids while Gail and Rudy were at work, and Gail would take the next Friday off and drive Mom back home and either drop the kids off too, or take full responsibility for them for a week. Since they weren't in school yet they wouldn't be missing anything at home.

Surprisingly, the kids were having such a good time - Gail and Rudy spoiled them more than Mom and Dad did - that they never asked about Alicia except in passing.

On the drive home I made a call based upon Rudy's non-suggestion/story. It was to Frank Childers. I would see who my friends were after the "Halloween Holocaust" which I was now, quite over-dramatically, calling it.

"Hi Frank, Greg here."

"Hi Greg - I almost didn't answer because I didn't recognize your number and thought that it was a phone solicitor."

"Yeah, I've got a new phone whose number I'm not giving out."

"That relates to the Halloween party at Richard's I'd bet money on - sorry about the shit storm, Greg. You don't deserve it."

"Thanks Frank; I'm going to see in the next few weeks who my REAL friends are. The reason for my call is to see if you saw anything of the exchange between the asshole and me."

There was a pause on Frank's end. I had helped Frank out of a real jam just six months earlier. He owed me. Also, I knew that Frank had no problem bending the truth a little. While I normally did have a problem bending the truth - in fact I can't remember ever telling Alicia a significant lie during our marriage, nor more than two or three at work in the last ten years - this was different. This was, in my mind, akin to war, or when police interrogate a suspected serial killer or terrorist.

"I think I remember," Frank said hesitantly. "Refresh my memory, though, will you."

"Well you were near the stairwell when I came down from punching out the asshole and I'm sure that you heard me loudly say 'You can't spit in my face fucktard,' and I'm sure that you saw me wipe the spittle off of right cheek and nose with a hankie as I exited the stairwell."

"Yeah, I remember. I did hear you scream something about spitting in the face, although I can't remember the exact words, and I sure do remember you wiping white stuff off of your right cheek and nose."

"I'm so glad that you remember that, Frank. You wouldn't mind telling anyone else about it if asked, would you?"

"Sure wouldn't."

"Do you know of someone else who might have the same recollection?"

"Yeah - you met my brother Don, didn't you? He was visiting from Cleveland."

"Yeah, I sure do - we had a nice talk, both dressed like pirates as I recall."

"Yeah, that's right. I'll give Don a call and see if he remembers."

"Thanks Frank; whether or not he remembers, please don't call me about it. But if anyone asks you, and Don does remember, give them his phone number, will you."

"Sure thing, Greg. If there is anything else I can do to help, please let me know."

"Actually, Frank, I never talked to you about this - and I won't be calling again - but thank you a thousand times. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

Frank chuckled. "I DO know, because I know how much I appreciated your help in March." With that we both terminated the call.

The next call on my burner phone was to one of my assistant managers of the restaurants I manage. Her husband is an associate attorney with a big law firm that must have someone who handles what is euphemistically known as "Family Law."

"Hi, Beth; how's my favorite employee?" I said as soon as I heard her "Hello" on the line.

"You must want something Greg if you open up the conversation with that bullshit line on a Sunday evening."

"See - that's why you're my favorite employee, Beth - you can cut through the bullshit."

We both laughed.

"Actually the reason for my call is that I want to talk to your Perry Mason husband Jerry." Both Beth and I were fans of old legal dramas, like Law & Order, Allie McBeal, and L. A. Law; and of course the Perry Mason TV show and movie were the best of the bunch.

"If I can tear him away from football, I will."

Jerry came on the line a few minutes later. "Hi Greg; what can I do you for?"

"I didn't mean to take you away from watching a game," I protested.

"Hell it's between the Bengals and Steelers and I want them both to lose, so no big deal. What's up."

"I won't mince words. I need to talk to a divorce attorney, pronto; like early tomorrow morning. Do you have a kick-ass someone at your firm with that specialty?"

"Ouch! Sorry to hear that. I can think of two; Carla Rogers and Roy Winfield. I'll give them both a call and see if either is available. Should I call your cellphone?"

"Not my normal one; the one I'm calling from now, but please don't give it to anyone else except Beth; it's xxx-xxx-xxxx."

"One more thing. Do you have a criminal defense attorney you'd recommend."

"Shit, Greg, I'm afraid to ask what the hell is going on. You want to see him or her tomorrow morning too, I take it?"

"Yes, please."

"I'll call you about that too."

"Thanks. Can you put Beth back on?"

When Beth came back on her first words were "Why is Jerry so wide-eyed and why did he rush into his study with his cellphone out?"

"I'll tell you at some point, but not now. What I need is for you to take full responsibility at work on Monday - you're the boss. I don't know what time I'll be in, but for sure you have to take my 10 a.m. meeting with the paper products supplier. My notes for the meeting are right on my desk. Kick ass! Also, if there is a real emergency you can get my new cellphone number from Jerry."

"Got it, Greg; I can't wait to hear your story," she chuckled before we both ended the call.

My last call was to Richard.

"Sorry about the hole in the wall board, Richard. I'm calling to ask you to send me the bill when you get it fixed."

"I'm sorry about the events that caused the hole, Greg. Are you doing OK?"

"Actually, NO. I feel like shit."

"I can understand that. Just so you don't find it out from someone else and don't think ill of me for it, when the ambulance took Dominic away and Susie went with it, my wife Jackie insisted that we let Alicia spend the night. She was in no shape to leave, anyway. I didn't really have a choice about whether or not to let her stay. Maybe it will be some consolation to you that she was sobbing most of the night and the next morning whenever I heard her."

"Thanks, Richard - actually that does make me feel better. However, please don't tell me what happened after I left. It would be too painful."

"OK," he chortled, "but I'd have to say that if a vote was taken then 80% of the partygoers would say that Tarzan got what he deserved, and 90% would say that Alicia was out of line with her public tirade."

I paused. "Thanks, Richard, I appreciate that."

"Plus, I'm not sure that I'll have the hole repaired. I'm trying to talk Jackie into putting a frame around it and titling it "Tarzan's comeuppance."

I laughed - I needed a laugh. "Well in the remote possibility that she doesn't agree to that, please, please send me the bill."

"OK, Greg; good luck," Richard replied before terminating the call.

I got a call back from Jerry ten minutes before I got home. "Carla Rogers and Jim Hosmer, family law and criminal defense, will meet with you, together, at 9:30 tomorrow morning. They're on the sixth floor of the building I'm in - you know where it is, right?"

"Sure do - I'll see Carla and Jim then. Thanks, Jerry; I owe you."

"You can pay me by telling Beth to be nicer to me..." he chortled.

I heard Beth laughingly yell "You asshole, see if I spread my legs tonight," in the background before he terminated the call.

"At least someone has a good marriage," I said to myself.

****************

Lights were on in the house when I got there. Susie's car was parked on the street. Time to face the music - I was ready.

Susie and Alicia walked into the kitchen as I came in from the garage. I'm sure that they heard the garage door open. The two normally hottest-looking chicks that I knew both looked like hell, which caused me to smile.

"Where are Jenny and Billy?" Alicia snapped, her arms folded and a snarl on her face.

"Why, if it isn't my faithful wife and her dear loyal friend. How nice to see both of you looking like shit. I hope that you had a nice weekend fucking Tarzan; he can still fuck, can't he?" I said with the biggest smile that I could muster.

That set them back on their heels. Alicia's resolve was starting to dissipate already. Susie finally replied. "Thanks to you he's still in Mercy Hospital with a concussion, and won't be able to work tomorrow. Unless Alicia and I can convince him otherwise he's going to have you arrested."

"Well, just have Alicia fuck him some more, and maybe he won't call the cops, although I don't really give a flying cock-suck if he calls them or not. In fact, I hope that he gets Mirsa while he's there and it eats his cock away."

Susie started crying. Her tears apparently strengthened Alicia's resolve. "Where are the kids?"

"You were supposed to pick them up at their grandparents' house today. You tell me."

"They didn't answer the phone and when I drove over there no one was home."

"I'm sure that they just took them on a fun excursion since they knew we were having a re-connecting weekend, faithful wife. I'll call Mom tomorrow and find out where they are."

"You bastard, you're hiding them from me," she yelled.

"Not so, faithful wife. Like I said I'll talk to Mom tomorrow. Now do you have a meal prepared for your loving husband?"

"Go to McDonald's, asshole," she screamed before sitting down on a kitchen chair and covering her face with her hands as she sobbed, and Susie tried to comfort her.

Step five popped into my mind. It was too risky, but I was going to do it anyway. I made another call to Frank Childers. "Frank, despite my statement that I wouldn't ask you for anything else, I do need something else."

"Shoot," he replied.

"I'm on my way to your house to switch cars. Once we do, please go through the drive-through of the McDonald's on Chestnut five minutes after we switch cars and buy, with the cash that I'll give you, two Big Mac's, an order of fries, and a large Coke. Do what you want with the food, but leave the bag with the wrappers in my car on the floor, and the receipt on the passenger's side seat."

"Ha, ha; OK, Dude," he laughed.

After the car exchange I went to Mercy Hospital with my wig and fake mustache from my pirate Halloween costume, which were still in the car; I also had a pair of horn-rimmed glasses with clear lenses. Putting a logo-less baseball cap over my wig, with my fake mustache and glasses, I went to the Information Desk. "Could you please tell me what room Dominic Scalia is in?"

"He's in 204," the helpful lady at the desk said, "but I'm sorry but visiting hours ended twenty minutes ago."

"I'm his cousin John from out of town; I rushed here as soon as I heard the news. Can you call up to the nurse's station and ask if I can just say hello to him - and I'll come back tomorrow for a proper visit."

The helpful volunteer did as asked and the night nurse on the second floor said that it was OK.

I went upstairs, identified myself to the duty nurse, and snuck into Dominic's room and put on a pair of latex gloves, conveniently positioned in a dispenser in his room. He was zoned out, although the TV was blaring away [I thought that people with concussions weren't supposed to watch TV; he was obviously going against doctor's orders; it figured for that fucktard]. I was happy to see a bandage on the back of his head, and obviously a broken nose.

I looked around his bed. Nothing that I could use. I needed plan B.

I moved the nurse's call button away from him and stuck it under the mattress. I put a handkerchief in my right hand and pushed it over his mouth while I put my left thumb on his right eye. He awoke with a start and a muffled yelp as I pushed his head back, obviously hurting the bandaged part.

"Listen asshole," I mumbled, "if you ever fuck Alicia again your cock will be cut off and shoved down your throat. This is no idle threat."

He started to mumble "Fuck you," but when I pushed a finger into his eye while simultaneously tweaking his broken nose he frantically mumbled "OK, OK, OK."

"Say 'I got it.'"

"I got it," he mumbled.

I poked his eye again and then quickly left, closing the door behind me, and exited down a side stairwell.

I looked at the hankie. "Sure looks like spittle to me," I chuckled. I threw my baseball cap, mustache, glasses, and wig into a dumpster at a construction site on the way to pick up my car, and gladly noted the McDonald's trash and receipt just where I asked Frank to put them. Then I threw the spittle-containing hankie on the floor next to the McDonald's bag and went home and slept in the guest bedroom. I did not encounter Alicia that night or the next morning.

************

I met with the attorneys the next morning. I found out the horrors of divorce even with an adulterous wife, but found that I was in a better position with respect to any criminal charge since spitting in one's face was sufficient provocation for one punch (and one punch only) under the law of our state.

After the meeting I had been back at the office only forty five minutes when two cops came in.

"Are you Greg Jenkins?"

"Yes, officer, I am. Why are you here?"

"We're arresting you for the assault of Dominic Scalia. Please stand and put your hands behind your back."

"You're going to perp march me out in front of my employees?"

"Sorry, standard procedure. You have the right to remain silent..."

I exercised my right to remain silent, and asked for my attorney when I was brought into an interrogation room. Jim Hosmer was there within twenty minutes. Once he arrived we pretended like we were conferencing - although we had already planned out what to do precisely that morning - then called in the two cops who would interrogate me.

"Detectives Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes," Hosmer derisively said when the cops walked in.

"Very funny, Hosmer. Don't you have some serial killer to get back on the streets," the cop he misidentified as Holmes (real name Jackson) shot back.