Playing Baseball with the Boss

There's not much here in the way of sex. It's just a little story about moving on. I set out to write one story, and somehow I became distracted and started down the wrong path. I stopped writing this, wrote the other story called My Real Wife, and then returned to pursue this different path. Somewhere, my attitude changed and the anger I started with morphed into a search for humor. This twisted little tale is the result. I hope you enjoy it.

*****

It was the dead of winter when night falls early and I was having one of those truly great days! We had just signed the biggest contract in my little company's history. I'd walked out into the office and told everyone the good news. They are a great team and the cheers and applause that went up made me feel like the hero of the company! It was 2:00 in the afternoon and I told everyone to go home early. The day wasn't going to get any better than this, so I wanted everyone to go home and spend it with the ones they love.

The day wasn't going to get any better than this... Truer words...

I spent another five minutes with Jim Daniels, the company's lawyer, signed the last of the papers, and left. I was the last to leave and that made me feel especially good. I had the best team in the city and the thought of all of them celebrating at home with their families filled my heart. So, I grabbed some flowers and headed home to my own wife. She didn't know it yet, but we were going out to dinner.

What do they say - the lowest lows come after the highest highs? I walked in the front door and I saw clothes spread across the living room floor. It was a man's clothes mixed in with what I could plainly see were my wife's clothes. The man's clothes were not mine. I picked up the pants, checked the driver's license in the wallet, and something inside me died. It was Harry "The Pissant" Parker, alias Hairy Ass Parker, alias Shit Stain, that sleazy sack of crap she worked for. (Do you get the impression that I never liked the guy?) I put his driver's license in my pocket and walked down the hall.

There was no mistaking the sounds coming from the bedroom. I only walked back to confirm with my own eyes what my ears already told me. I stood in the doorway and I died a little more. My cheating bitch wife was fucking her boss on our bed!

They didn't see me. I stood there in shock watching his ass rise and fall, him grunting and her groaning.

"What do you think the cuck would do if he saw us now?"

She laughed. "Probably get us a towel." They both thought that was funny.

Isn't it bad enough to see your wife with another man, you have to hear her ridiculing you as well?

I'll show them cuck. I grabbed the baseball bat I kept by the bedroom door for security. I never needed a gun, but right then I wished I had one. I was about to bring it down with all my strength to break the fucker's head when I stopped. No! I wasn't going to jail for the likes of them. I wasn't going to do time for killing a worthless bug. I thought "You want cuck? I'll give you cuck!" I flipped the bat end-for-end, hauled back like I was about to hit a door with a battering ram, took aim, and I drove the handle of the bat into that fat fucker's fat white ass!

I don't know if I penetrated it, but I damn well tried. In hindsight (I had to say that) I must have missed the bull's-eye or I would have ripped his bowels open. I wanted to force that bat all the way to his damn tonsils. The scream was very satisfying. He jumped off my worthless wife like a startled rabbit, hit his head on the brick wall behind the bed, and then rolled onto the floor unconscious. I would have enjoyed it if my heart wasn't broken.

Can a dead man have a pulse? I certainly felt dead inside, but my heart was racing. It was pounding in my chest. I felt my pulse in my head, behind my eyes, and for a moment I thought I would pass out. It's at moments like these that you question your sanity. "Did I just see what I thought I saw? Was she really doing her damn boss?"

She was panicked. Well, she damn well should be! If ever there was a textbook example of temporary insanity, I was it. "Honey, I can explain. It isn't as bad as it looks. We can get past this."

"Fuck you! The cuck isn't getting your damn towel. Pack your bags and get the fuck out! Drag that piece of meat after you or he dies here today."

I was just standing there, the bat in my hand, my cheating wife trying to cover herself, and her piece of shit boss lying on the floor. I shut down. It's the last thing I remember about the whole encounter. My next memory isn't until hours later.

It was dark. I was sitting in my living room, just staring off into space. I found the bat in the trash the next day. I must have taken it into the garage at some point, but I don't remember. I know I damn well had no intention of ever holding that handle again. At some point, sitting there in the dark, I felt something in my pocket. It was The Pissant's driver's license. Well, a phone call to his wife would be in order soon enough. I wandered the house. The bitch was gone. Good. I don't know what I would have done if she'd still been there.

I heard the doorbell and went to answer the door ready for a confrontation, but it was my kid sister "D". That's what we call her. It's short for Deborah. She lives just a few blocks away and came over to "borrow" a few beers. "Steve's working late and he's going to need a cold one when he gets home. You don't mind, do you?"

I don't think I ever answered her.

"Jake, what's wrong? You look like you're in shock. Where's Barb?"

"I caught her."

"What do you mean you caught her? You caught her how? Where? Doing what?"

"I caught her fucking her boss in our bed."

She just stood there, staring at me for the longest time. I guess she figured I was serious. Without a word, she stepped forward, put her arms around me and her head on my chest, and said, "Oh, Jake, I am so sorry. You don't deserve that."

I really don't remember very much from the rest of that night. I do remember sitting in D's living room with her kids crawling all over their Uncle Jake and her husband Steve sitting with me. I don't remember much conversation. I slept there that night and woke in the morning feeling alive if not good about my life. The kids had already gone to school, so D and I sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee while I ate a plate of eggs and bacon. Coffee and bacon will put the life back in a man, if slowly, and I was beginning to take stock of my life. I knew there were big changes ahead. Divorce was a certainty with all the change that come along with it. I'd try to save myself and give her as little as possible, but even in my nonfunctioning state I knew that she'd get half.

D and I talked at length. "No chance of saving the marriage?"

"Maybe I could if it was all theoretical, a bad story that someone told me and she admitted to, but not after what I saw and heard. It was bad enough she was doing that smarmy creep, but they were mocking me, demeaning me, and making jokes about me while they did it. How do I forget that?"

"If there really is no chance for her, then maybe I should tell you something."

"What's that?"

"I never liked her."

I started laughing. There aren't many people that D doesn't like. "You tell me this now?"

"There's more. Nobody in the family likes her. Even my kids can't stand her." She smiled a little when she said that.

"Now you're making things up."

"No, I'm not. Jake, you have a good heart and you see the best in people. You see what they can be, but some of us see what they are. I can't put my finger on it. I don't know exactly why I don't like her. I just know she never rang true. I always thought there was something false about her."

"Well, I guess I can't say you're wrong now, can I?"

"Sorry, Jake. I wish I weren't right. I never wanted to be right about her. What are you going to do now?"

"Divorce her. Find an apartment someplace. Simplify my life. Pick up the pieces and start to rebuild."

"You know we're all behind you, right? You can stay here for as long as you want. The kids would love to have their Uncle Jake around."

"Thanks. I may take you up on that some nights, but I need to stand on my own and face this thing. It isn't going away, so neither am I."

"Jake, if anything happens and she starts pushing your buttons, I want you to just walk out the door and come here. You understand? Don't go it alone and don't do anything stupid. Just walk away. Nothing is worth getting arrested."

"I know. I'll have to face her sooner or later, but I need to get my shit together first." We were quiet for a time as I thought it through. "Okay, little sister, let's make a list. What do I need to do and how do I do it?"

We got a legal pad and started writing: lawyer, bank accounts, credit cards, investments, retirement accounts, house, utilities, cars, what little furniture I wanted, what furniture I did not want (our bed at the top of that list), books, music, boat, tools, the list went on. We worked it over, got it down to what I really wanted and started another "I don't give a shit" list just to have some bargaining power.

I must have zoned out at some point. "Jake, what are you thinking?"

"Huh?" I drew a breath. "What kind of person has so little self-respect that she fucks her boss from work? Does she think she can't make it on her feet, so she tries to make it on her back? Does she have so little respect for me and what I do that he seems powerful, manly? If my boss was a woman and I was banging her to get ahead, I'd be too ashamed to show my face in the office. I mean, if that's all I'm good for, what am I worth? What is wrong with her?"

"I think you answered your own question, Jake. Now, stop feeling sorry for her. I know you. You're going to find some reason to see her as damaged; and before you know it, you'll be taking her back and trying to fix her. Don't do it. She isn't broken. She's just worthless."

"You aren't entirely good for my ego. You know that, right?" I lied. The truth is she was lifting my spirits by the minute.

"You made a mistake. You can correct it and move on. There are plenty of good women out there who think that you are the find of a lifetime. I know. Some of them have told me."

"Really? Like who?" I really was feeling better.

D was laughing now. "First things first, big brother. We get you divorced, then we get you laid, then later we get you married."

"I like step two. Could we jump to step two and then handle one and three when there's time?"

D was smiling and shaking her head. "Men! Stop thinking with your dick. Finish your list." D sat quietly watching me for a moment, then reached out, took my wrist in her hand, and squeezed. "It's going to be alright, Jake."

She had me smiling now. I wouldn't have thought it possible just an hour ago, but I was finally smiling again. I don't know if it was her love, her humor, or the prospect of getting laid. I liked all three.

"You know, I got Shit Stain's driver's license before I kicked him out."

"Are you kidding me? Why would you do that?"

"His clothes were the first thing I found. That's before I went back to the bedroom and caught them. I was strangely logical for a short time and I wanted to know who left his pants in our living room?"

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Return it... to his wife."

I love the way my little sister laughs.

"How are you going to explain why you have it?"

"'He was so busy boning my wife that I never had the chance to ask him his name. So, I felt that in the interest of full disclosure...' I'm thinking that she will be interested in my story."

"Oh, can I come? Can I come? Can I come? Please!"

"You want to come along with me while I tell the ass hat's wife that he's out fucking when he should be out working?"

"Yes please! I'll just be there for support. Plus, I want to hear what she's going to do to him."

I thought for a moment. "Hand me the phone."

That's one of the things I like about my little sister. It doesn't take that much to make her happy.

I made the call, told her who I was and why I was calling. She said she didn't believe me, but the tone of her voice said she did. We agreed to meet at a coffee shop not far from her house, so D and I climbed into her car and headed off. I know this is going to sound sick, but I was starting to enjoy this! I knew I still had to face my cheating bitch of a wife and I knew full well that she would rip my heart out again before it was over, but for the next hour I was going to get some revenge by the best and safest means possible: I was going to let his wife castrate the ass wipe in court. They can't arrest me for that, can they?

So, it turns out that a man who is functioning on half a brain, which is the best description I can think of for my state at the time, doesn't plan ahead all that well. I had no idea what she looked like. She was the third woman we approached. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but either she was amused at our efforts or she was concerned that we were deranged. It may have been a little of both.

We introduced ourselves. Shit Stain's wife looked at D with suspicion, so my sister explained that she was just along to lend support. Still, there was that slight upturn to the corner of D's mouth and a twinkle in her eye. I told Mrs. Stain what I saw and what I heard. She repeated that she didn't believe me, so I pulled Stain's driver's license out of my pocket and handed it to her. "Since he wasn't wearing his pants at the time, I lifted this for safe keeping."

The look that came over her face was one I will never forget. The darker her expression grew, the brighter ours became. Oh yeah, she believed us.

"What are you going to do about your wife?"

"Divorce her. And your husband?"

"Toast. This isn't the first time, but it's damn sure the last."

"I know I shouldn't be the vindictive type, but..."

"Bull shit. You called me because you want revenge. This isn't some bloody humanitarian effort you two are launched on."

"True. And I'm not interested in taking the high road. I figure either I can do something that I'll pay for later, maybe for the rest of my life, or I can just tell you what he's been up to and let you do it all nice and legal like."

"Oh, it'll be legal. My father is a major stockholder in the company where my husband works. Dad also sits on the Board of Directors. My husband's life as he knew it is over."

"I have to tell you that makes me feel pretty damn good. After the way I heard him talking about me while he was fucking my wife, I'd like to see him taken down a notch."

"He'll be taken down quite a few notches. He likes to play the big man, but as soon as I explain this to my father my husband will be out of a job and out of the house. In fact, that big-ass Mercedes he drives is a company car, too, so he'll be walking or taking the bus until he gets a new job. Will that meet your needs, Jake?"

"No, but it's a good start." I lied. It was an excellent start.

"So, what did you do to him when you caught them?"

D was holding her hand over her mouth and trying not to laugh, but she wasn't being very successful. Maybe I shouldn't have told her some of the details of what happened the night before.

"What do you mean?"

"He was walking funny all night long and again this morning like he was in pain."

D started to giggle.

She glanced at my sister. "He was making faces and he was clearly in discomfort."

D was losing it!

"He said his hemorrhoids were acting up, but he's never actually cried out when he sat in a chair before."

D started to hiccup in between the laughter. It wouldn't be long now.

I shrugged. "Probably just an old baseball injury."

That was it! I heard a muffled scream to my left. I think D wet herself.

She looked at D for a moment, wondering what she hadn't been told, and then back at me. I just kept looking straight ahead, trying not to smile and pretending I didn't hear anything.

"Jake, I have no delusions about what kind of man I married. He pulled the wool over my eyes before we got married, but you can't live with someone and fake it forever. I've been ready for this day for some time now. Will you take a little free advice?"

"I'm listening."

"Do whatever you have to do, but don't be stupid. Either kiss her or divorce her. If you aren't going to kiss her, don't lay so much as a finger on her. Don't give her anything she can lie about. The stuff you have in your life now is just stuff. Don't let it draw you into a situation you will regret."

"Copy that. My sister has already recited that lesson to me today." I looked over at D and she was enjoying the conversation way too much. I guess I never knew just how much she disliked my wife.

"However, now that I think of it, what is my wife's employment outlook at the company?"

"What do you want it to be?"

"Any chance you could give her a big fat raise until the divorce is final? That would help me with alimony. Then once the divorce is final you can fire her cheatin' ass just as fast as you like."

"Give me the date when you have it. I'll mark the calendar and count the days."

As we stood to leave, she said, "One more bit of free advice?"

"Sure."

"Get your sister some help." She was smiling, so I guess she understood even if she didn't know.

With that, we parted to go about our own unpleasant business.

Epilogue:

That was two years ago and a lot has changed. I got over her cheating faster than I thought I would. My family was a big help in that regard. They got me over the feeling of being unloved. A woman named Bridget, who was getting over her own divorce, got me over my feeling of inadequacy. Both men and women get that way when they catch their spouse cheating. Fortunately, Bridget had a wonderful way of convincing me that I had something to offer. We spent many long weekends just cooking together, snuggling on the couch, and giving each other joy in the night. She was entirely truthful, caring, and genuine. What I will never understand is how Bridget, where there was no long-term commitment, could be more a wife to me than my own wife? We eventually had to admit that we were really two opposites who appreciated and needed each other for a time, but for whom there was no real future. She moved back home and I got on with my life. We both knew going in that it wasn't forever, but we both moved on feeling a lot better about ourselves in the process. Looking back, I think I regret the loss of that relationship more than the destruction of my marriage. Even my family liked Bridget. We just weren't a match in too many ways.

Once word got out that I was divorcing Barb, stories started coming to me from every direction. It seems she was not well liked by anyone and everyone had a cheating Barb story. Really? Why was I just hearing it now? As Burt Gummer says in the Tremors movies, "I feel I was denied critical need-to-know information!" Still, each story helped convince me that divorce was the only right choice.

A short while after the divorce was final (and Barb was abruptly fired) I was sitting with some buds having a few beers when one of them asked me, "What was her problem, Jake? I honestly don't understand why she cheated on you."

I said, "It turns out she was hard of hearing."

"What?"

"At the wedding when the minister said '...forsaking all others', she thought he said '...partaking all others' and she did her level best to keep her vows." Well, you've got to keep your sense of humor about these things, don't you?

*****

I hope I didn't steal that last joke from anyone. It's been rattling around in my brain for a time.

For those of you who do not have little sisters, I am sorry for you. They can be the biggest pain when they're young and the greatest inspiration when they grow up. I treasure both of mine.