Screaming for Vengence

I started clapping my hands. "Great speech Erica," I said. "You must have rehearsed it the whole time that we've been apart."

"Sammie, you can name the baby, Randall James, if you want to. Randall James Dylan would make your mother very happy." Sammie looked at me as if I'd swallowed a rock.

"Dad, we're naming him Marshall after Darren's Grandfather. Marshall Dylan, that's his name. There's no way in the hell I'd name my son after that man, despite how Mom feels," said Samantha.

"Well Honey, at least you understand now," said Erica.

"I only wish you did Erica," I said. "It did hurt me. It hurt me because I loved you more than I ever loved anyone in my life before. I loved you far too much to ever want to share you. It hurt me because no matter what you say, a married woman who sleeps with another man even once throws away her marriage. I know there are some people who say that if it only happened once it's not a deal breaker. I'm not one of them. And this happened more than once. You had an ongoing affair for a number of years. You lied about it, you deceived me and you broke our marriage vows. Even to this day I simply don't trust you. I often follow you around to make sure you're doing what you tell me. You damaged our marriage in ways that even now have yet to surface."

"Erica, how long have I had the Mustang I'm driving now and what's different about it?" I asked.

"Uhm, it's got more horsepower," she said.

"Besides that?" I asked. She looked puzzled.

"You've never been in it," I spat. "I've had that car for nearly four years and your ass has never hit the seat. Even if the two of us go out for a drive, we take your car or the jeep. I don't trust you and I don't want you in my car. The same way I don't want you in my heart."

Erica started crying. "What can I do to fix this? It's been over for five years. This is unfair John?"

"Okay let's be fair," I said. "What if I go out and meet someone and fuck them off and on for the next twenty or thirty years?"

"John, I wouldn't like that and two wrongs don't make a right," she snapped.

"I didn't think you'd like it Erica," I said. "So if we're done, the card on the table has my lawyer's contact information on it. Give it to your guy when you get him. Please try to find someone quickly. I don't want to stretch this out any longer than necessary."

"John, I don't want a divorce," she cried. "This has been over for five years."

"Samantha, get her out of here, before I have to make things unpleasant," I said. Samantha grabbed her mother by the arm and pulled her to the door.

In the days that followed our confrontation, Erica did everything she could to speak to me. Often our daughter and son in law had to serve as go-betweens since I had nothing further to say to her. I tried explaining to her that she'd had her opportunity to speak and say her peace and I was still un-swayed.

What neither of us realized, was that while Erica was staying with Samantha and Darren, it was affecting their relationship as well. Erica cried a lot, which made Samantha, who was always the one calming her down and soothing her ruffled feathers, the one who she spoke to the most. Over a few weeks, Erica's influence seemed to be affecting Sammie. She even spoke to me about it. Once while I was having dinner with Sam and Darren, it happened. I'd invited the two of them out so I could explain to them that even though Erica and I would no longer be together, my feelings and relationship with the kids would remain unchanged.

I'd still drop by to visit them and we'd still go out. There would be no need to pick and choose who could or couldn't attend certain functions for fear of upsetting anyone.

"So Daddy, there's absolutely no chance that you and Mom can patch this up?" asked Sammie.

"I don't think so, Angel," I told her.

"But why Dad?" she asked. "Mom loves you so much. And it's not like she was out doing it all the time, or even doing it with people you know. And you apparently beat the crap out of the guy. Plus Jeezus, she did it less than once a year. If you average it out it's like once every three years that she actually slept with the guy. When you compare it to how often I used to sleep with a pillow over my head growing up it really doesn't mean much. Can't you just..."

"Stop Sam," said Darren sharply. Darren was a quiet guy. He didn't often say very much. But this time he was forceful.

"What if it was me?" he asked. "What if I started screwing my secretary every so often? Not every day, just once a month or once every couple of months. What if you didn't find out until we were in our fifties? Would it hurt you any less? And since it wasn't very often would that make it right or at least not so bad?"

Samantha looked at him seriously. "You're not are you?" she asked quietly.

"Well, she's younger than us and she's hot," said Darren.

"I was hot until you started pumping me full of your babies," snapped Samantha. "So just because I've gained a pound or two and my stomach isn't as tight, it gives you the right to start screwing Tammy?"

"God Sam, it's not going to be forever. Eventually she won't be hot either. Then I'll start being faithful to you again," said Darren.

Samantha's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry Sam," I love you so much, so I wanted you to know.

Samantha stood up and Darren grabbed her arm. "Sammie, I'm sorry," he said. "I am not, nor will I ever sleep with Tammy or anyone except you. And you are still hot. You are the hottest woman on the planet, to me. But I did want you to know something. I wanted you to know how your dad feels. And this had to be far worse for him because it lasted far longer and they'd been married longer."

"I'm so sorry Daddy," said Sam. I guess I've been listening to Mom too much. She kind of convinced me that what she'd done wasn't that bad. And no one wants to hear their mother crying so I just put how you felt out of my mind."

"Plus Honey, there's the fact that your dad actually did give her a second chance. When he broke up the affair, he never even mentioned it to her. He didn't make her feel guilty about it or punish her, it was like he just gave her a clean slate, but she couldn't let go of her feelings for that guy. Do you realize how much that must have hurt him over the years? Then, when you think about how much he loves our kids, his grandchildren, can you imagine having your grandson named after the guy your wife betrayed you with?"

"Your mom either has a total lack of respect for your father or she thinks he's stupid. Even suggesting that was a slap in the face. I know that my opinion doesn't matter much here, but I think your dad is right. I also don't really like the influence your mom is having on you."

Erica did not go gently into that good night. She fought the divorce tooth and nail. As usual, she tried to be smarter than everyone else. She called me at work to tell me that she'd found her lawyer and she'd drop off his contact information. She'd stop by the house on her way to her date that evening.

"Erica, you don't have to do that," I said. "Why ruin your date. Why not just read me the information over the phone or simply give your lawyer the card I gave you my lawyer's info on it."

"I don't have it right now," she said. "I just remembered to call you. I'm at the beauty shop getting pretty for my date, but when I get home I'll get the card and do what you said."

"So should I call my lawyer and tell him that you'll call him in about ten minutes?" I asked.

"Why ten minutes?" she asked.

"You said you were getting pretty. You've always been beautiful Erica. So there's no reason for you to ever need to be in a beauty shop for more than five or ten minutes. They can't improve on something that was already perfect," I said.

"I have to go," she said. I was sure she was crying again.

A few minutes later my phone rang again. I answered it. "Daddy, I know she's wrong but why can't you just leave her alone? Why do you have to constantly make her cry? Isn't divorcing her enough?"

"Samantha, what are you talking about?" I asked.

"Mom just got off the phone and started crying," she said. "I checked the number of the last call and it was you."

I explained the whole phone call to Samantha and she apologized. "Daddy, she isn't at the beauty shop and there's no date that I know of. Mom is just trying to play games with you. I think she was trying to make you jealous. Do you really think mom is beautiful?"

"I always have Sammie," I said. "That and her personality were the two things I loved most about your mom. I know you don't see it. Most people never view their parents that way, but your mom really is a very pretty, very sexy woman. And I loved her so much. I guess that's why I was so irate at that Randy guy. He was trying to take away the person that gave my life meaning. "

"Then Daddy, why can't you give her one more chance?" she said.

"Because, Baby, I did that. It's been the worst five years of my life. Every time she leaves the house, I wonder where she's going and who she's with. If she could have an affair halfway across the country, why couldn't she have one here that I didn't know about?" I asked.

"I love your mom but I can't trust her. Remember the other night at the restaurant? Remember when Darren told you about screwing his secretary? Tell me that you haven't thought about that since then. Even after he told you that it had never happened and never will, you're wondering aren't you? Well, the difference for me is that I don't have to wonder. Your mother did cheat on me. And it wasn't a one-time thing. It was spread out over a very long period of time. She could have stopped any time she wanted to. She chose to continue it until I stopped it for her. If I hadn't, despite what she said, she'd probably still be screwing that guy."

Erica's lawyer insisted on counseling. My lawyer insisted that I attend, so I went. For the first two weeks I took magazines to read during the sessions. The doctor asked me why I refused to participate. I told him he was beating a dead horse. The court could make me come to the sessions but they couldn't change the way I felt. They could talk about feelings and reasons and forgiveness up the ass, but they couldn't force me to stay married to Erica. So I was willing to jump through the hoops and all of that bullshit but I wouldn't stay married to her.

In the end it took 8 months. That was almost three times as long as it should have been. Erica's lawyer went over my records from work with a fine tooth comb. He was very suspicious.

"His records are too perfect," he said. "They're too thorough, too well prepared. It's almost as if he's been expecting this to happen."

Luckily, he found everything he needed to find and didn't look for anything else. He was still able to convince the judge that the house though not belonging to me was still an asset because I didn't have to pay anything to stay there. All I did was to pay the property taxes each year. So he looked at the average amount I'd have to have spent for a mortgage or to rent a similar sized house. He added half of that value and gave it to Erica. I also had to pay her four hundred dollars a month in alimony for three years.

As I've mentioned before, I totaled it up and wrote Erica a check. When she asked me where I'd gotten the money, I told her that I'd taken out a loan. I'd simply make regular payments to the bank each month instead of having to pay her. I didn't want to have to see her or deal with her for a long time.

As soon as we were out of court with the papers signed, I went on the first of several vacations. I went on a cruise because I'd never been on one. It was far too early for me. Most of us have seen those movies or TV shows where everyone on a cruise ends up meeting someone and making lots of new friends right? I didn't meet a single person and spent the entire cruise in my cabin.

Every time some woman looked at me, I bolted. It was, as I said, too soon. My next vacation was a trip out west to what they used to call a dude ranch. That was a disaster as well. There were too many dudes on the trip. I think some of them thought it was some kind of Brokeback mountain thing.

The final vacation I took was called cruising 66. It was a road trip from Chicago to Los Angeles. It was all one long cruise down historic route 66. There were all kinds of cars on the cruise from classics to modern muscle. The organizers arranged different tour packages for all budgets and types. There were accommodations plans both for those who wanted to camp out on the way and for those who liked the comfort of hotels or motels. Both groups were invited to parties and activities each evening as well as meals at restaurants and eateries along the trip.

I looked at it as a chance to get to know my car better. I'd started thinking of my Mustang as my girl anyway. When I started the trip, I saw it as just me, my Mustang and my music. It'd be a chance to think while I drove each day and really start to look at what I wanted to do with the next twenty or thirty years of my life. Most of all, I needed to figure out what I'd do without Erica. Because though I realized that my life truly would be better without her in it, my heart still ached for her.

I was wrong again. I guess I saw myself as some kind of lost and lonely divorced guy trying to find his way alone in a new and challenging world. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. I wasn't alone. I was with my people. Wherever you go in the world there are thousands of us and when we get together, it's awesome.

Every single one of us is sure that the car he loves is the best example of automotive art ever created. I started out trying to stay in the back of the crowd listening to the announcements before we took off. I was never allowed to be alone or lonely unless I was going to sleep.

"Hey Bud, God damn that Stang is pretty," said one old timer. "I had one before I discovered that the Lord intended this old man to drive Corvettes. But it was nothing like yours. How much Horsepower does that thing put out?"

Everywhere we went, at every meal or stopping point, anywhere from one to five of my new found friends would join me and engage me in a conversation about our mutual likes or dislikes. There were guys who'd seek me out and draw me into a conversation about whether or not I believed foreign cars should be allowed on a cruise of a classic American highway. I told them that we needed to stop squabbling amongst ourselves, cars are cars. There's enough room for everyone. Most of the people at the table agreed with me. That led one old timer to stand up and declare that I was right. All of the car nuts should bond together to wipe out our true enemy...Bikers who were the scum of the earth. Naturally, I got out of that conversation too.

I also met several really nice women during the cruise. There are ladies who are just as fanatical about their cars as any man. There was even a woman on the cruise who ended her marriage because her husband wanted to drive her car. He was telling all of his friends that her classic 69 Camaro was his and he occasionally allowed her to drive it.

Things got interesting when he had a few of the guys come over and they caught her bent over under the hood changing the oil. The true owner of the car came out and hubby was so embarrassed that he told her she had to choose between him and the car. She hasn't seen him since.

I met a lot of ladies on the cruise that I thought would make great friends but at that time I wasn't looking for a replacement for Erica. What it did do for me though was to let me know that there was life after her and maybe another life partner someday as well. I came home with a completely different attitude. I was no longer depressed and lonely and I loved my Mustang at least twice as much.

It was about that time that I first ran into Erica again. We were both attending the wedding of a friend of ours. She'd invited us both. It was her second marriage, her first real one, she called it and she went all out.

The most shocking thing for me was seeing Erica. She'd always been beautiful to me, but seeing her there made me question my eyesight and my sanity. Erica had changed in the year since we'd separated. She was rail thin and her face seemed drawn. Her hair was arranged in an up do that made it appear to be shellacked to her head. Her face held what seemed like a permanently dour expression and she had suitcases under her eyes.

I stood there staring at her until I felt someone elbow me in my side. "Go over to her and say something nice, Daddy," said Samantha beside me. "And I need to ask you a favor later on."

I forced my feet across the room. "Hey, Erica," I began. "You've lost weight. Is that a new hairdo?"

She snapped her head around so quickly when she heard my voice that I thought her neck would come off. Her eyes lit up as well.

"Do you like it?" she asked smiling. "And all of the women on TV are on the diet I tried. I didn't want to be one of those old ladies whose ass spreads because they're less active."

"Erica, you were always beautiful to me," I said. "I think that you should pay less attention to trends and more to what you feel. I'm sure your hair was expensive and it's very fashionable, but I always loved your hair long and loose. It framed your beautiful face so much better. It called attention to all of your best features, like your eyes and those dimples."

Erica's smile lit her face back up.

"And I know that we're not married anymore, so I might be a little bit rude telling you this, but get off of the diet. Don't worry about your ass spreading, because I always loved spreading it for you. I'm sure whoever you're with next will agree with me. Curvier woman are just better. Throw away the salad and get yourself a burger. If there's anyone I know who is beyond the fashion and diet trends it was always you, Honey."

As I walked off to find someone else to talk to, Erica just looked dazed behind me. For the rest of the time that I was there she was always looking at me and trying to get near me again. I avoided her without making it obvious that I was doing so.

The next day I spoke to my daughter on the phone. "Dad, you were great at the wedding. Mom is happier than I've seen her since you guys broke up. She ate more food last night than she had in the three days before. I asked her why and she said that my father would probably like her better if she got her titties back. Exactly what did you say to her?"

"I don't remember saying anything about her breasts," I said. "I just told her that she'd always been beautiful to me and maybe she shouldn't worry so much about the diet. Shit, Sammie, your mom is fifty just like I am. She doesn't need to be a stick figure. Even a dog wants some meat on his bones."

"Anyway Dad," said Sammie. "I need you to do something for me."

I looked at her suspiciously.

"Relax Daddy," she smirked. "It doesn't have anything to do with mom. I have a friend who is trying to get a degree. She is awful in math and she has to take both Algebra and Trig. I remember how great you were at teaching me when I went through both high school and college."

"Don't they have tutors?" I asked.

"Dad, this is an unusual situation," said Samantha. "First off, she's older, but not as old as you. She works nights, so she can't get to a lot of the tutoring sessions. And Shelly has a really unusual personality. Could you just try this, for me? Besides it's not like you really have a lot to do anyway."

So I went to meet my daughter's friend. She was a redhead and at first I thought she was fat. Samantha had told me that the woman was deformed and had body issues. She was very soft spoken and seemed to lack confidence. It was a warm day when we met at a Starbucks downtown.