Something... Talk About in Tx Ch. 01

He slept in the following morning, stood in front of the mirror, and cleaned up. He shaved his head, carefully checking for any rough spots, then applied the aftershave lotion. He trimmed his beard where it was coming in, neatening it. He almost didn't recognize the man in the mirror.

Jonathan pulled into his driveway a little after noon. His wife's car was there, so he girded himself for battle. Walking into the house, the kids saw him first and swarmed him.

They were laughing, wanting to touch his head, asking him where his hair was. Where had he been? Why didn't he come home?

His wife was glaring at him, anger seething just below the surface. He laughed with the kids. "Daddy had some business to take care of out of town. I'm back now, and I shouldn't have to go away again anytime soon."

Susan had moved closer. "We need to talk, dear," she whispered.

"Soon. I'd like to spend some time with my kids, now that they're not at your parent's house."

Jonathan sat down in front of the TV with the kids, talking about their time with their grandparents. "I bet you like staying with them, don't you? You get to see them a lot. A lot more than your other Grandmother."

"A lot more," Cindy the oldest said. "Grandma picks me and Joey up after summer school."

The plot thickens, Jonathan thought. "And she watches Nancy?"

Little Nancy nodded.

Susan was standing over them. "Jonathan, I'd really like to talk now," she said.

"I'd really like to have a faithful wife," Jonathan snapped. "Looks like neither of us are going to get our wish."

She stepped back as if he'd slapped her. "Is this what you want? Hash it out here, now, in front of the kids?" she hissed.

"No, I'll talk to you when I'm good and ready. It took you two years to talk to me. Now you're in some kind of big hurry?" Jonathan told her, his cold eyes staring at her.

She turned, sobbing and ran into their bedroom.

"Why's Mom crying," Joey asked.

"Your Mom's been very naughty. She knows she's in trouble," Jonathan explained.

"Did she break something?" Nancy asked. Breaking something was the worst thing you could possibly do.

"Yes she did," he answered. Her wedding vows. His heart. Their marriage.

He spent a few more minutes with the kids, and braced himself for the coming confrontation. He entered the bedroom, and closed the door behind him.

"How could you!" Susan shrieked. "I told you we didn't need to get my parents involved!"

"I told you I didn't want you fucking around," Jonathan said calmly.

"Where the hell were you the last two nights?"

"Out. Where were you the last two years?"

"Where's out? What are you up to?"

"None of your business anymore. Once you chose him over me, you lost any rights to ask me that."

She tired of that line of argument. "Why doesn't my phone work?"

"I canceled your service. Just like I canceled your health insurance. Like I canceled your credit card."

"Why? Why would you do that? Are you so petty?"

"I'm not going to be the one paying you to fuck around on me. You want to be a whore, you do it on your own dime," Jonathan explained.

"I'm not a whore! I fell in love with another man. Are you so shallow, so selfish you can't see the difference?"

"So I'm the selfish one? Because I want my wife to remember her wedding vows, to stay faithful to me and our children?"

"Don't bring the kids into this."

"No, you did that. Getting rid of them every day so you could spend your time in bed with your lover."

"We didn't spend our time in bed. I took care of him. I helped him. He needed me."

"How exactly did you take care of him, Susan dearest?"

"Don't be a smartass. I... I cooked, I did his laundry, cleaned up a little. I accompanied him out sometimes. We talked. He took time to talk with me. He understands me, doesn't ignore me for the television and beer."

"So you were his wife, cooking for him, while we ate carry-out. Talking with him, when you ignored me and abandoned your kids. You traded this family for another one. Fine. Let your other husband pay for your cell-phone, for your insurance, let him give you spending money, buy you nice clothes. Trade sex for money from the man you're not married to. You say you're not a whore?"

"Why are you doing this? It doesn't have to be this way. We were happy for the last year, weren't we? I never made you do without. Why can't we go back to being that way? Don't you love me at all? Did you ever love me?" she whined, tears glistening in her eyes.

"I didn't know you were a cheating slut then. Now every time I see you, I picture you in the arms of your lover who gives you great sex. Your younger man."

"It's not about the sex, Jonathan. Not at all. You've got to get past that, give your fragile ego a break. It's about the love and companionship. He cares for me, and I care for him. We love each other. The sex is only an expression of that love. I never said he was better than you. It's different, that's all. I still love you. I... I need him."

"That's fine. See him all you want. I don't care. But as long as you're seeing him, I'm not paying for it. He loves you; he can pay your way."

"Don't think he hasn't offered! He's rich. Not like you, working day and night to barely keep a roof over our heads," she shrilled angrily, immediately regretting her words.

"Which is it, Susan? Is it love, or are you simply looking to trade up? You're angry 'cause I work my ass off to give you the house you wanted, to take care of our children? I work 60 hours a week, to make sure you have whatever you need. What do you do? You don't work, you don't take care of the kids. You hardly ever cook anymore. What do you do for this family that I'm busting my ass over?"

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I've always appreciated how hard you work for us. You...you just make me so angry. Why can't we have things the way they were?"

"Stop seeing him. Be a loving faithful wife and a good mother. Then we'll see if things can't be the way they were, for a good nine years before you threw your marriage away."

"I threw nothing away! I always was here for you. I only saw him when you were working, and the kids were in school. I've always placed my family first."

"Like you did the two nights you spent at his house? When I was working? When the kids were at school?"

"You drove me to him. You know you did. I was scared of you. The second night you begged me to go to him."

"I know, it's always my fault. You did nothing wrong."

"I didn't! I can't help the way I feel."

Jonathan sighed. "This is getting nowhere. Are you going to stop seeing him?"

"No."

"Then you're on your own. This is my bedroom. You're welcome to stay here, but I'm not leaving. I'll continue to feed you when you're home, and I'll keep the car paid for, and insured to make sure you can take care of the kids. Things are going to be tight around here."

"Why? What do you mean tight?"

"I quit my job. It was interfering with my family too much."

"You quit your job? Without discussing it with me?" Susan shrieked.

"You fucked another man, without discussing it with me?" Jonathan mocked her.

"That's not the same," she said.

"I know. It's much worse. I'll be working for Uncle Len. I won't be making near the money, but we can squeak by if we're careful. No more wasteful spending."

"I never waste money," she said.

"How much gas do you use, driving to Rich's house and your parents every day? How many lunches, coffee house meetups?"

It took a few seconds before she realized what he'd said. "How... who said his name was Rich?"

"Richard Patton. 'Rich' to his sluts. Para-legal and dilettante, living off the money he made killing his wife. Some lover you have there."

"It's not like that! He didn't kill her. It was an accident. It wasn't his fault. And he's not a para-legal. He's a lawyer. He's finished law school and passed the bar exam. He's not a dilettante."

"He must work awfully hard, since he can spend all his days fucking you."

"STOP SAYING THAT!" she screamed.

Jonathan glared at her. "I thought you were the one who wanted to do this in private. If you're going to start screaming, we might as well invite the kids in."

"We don't spend all of our days fucking. If you have to know, we only make love a few days a week."

"Do you ever have sex with me on the days you screw him?" Jonathan asked.

She blushed. "I told you, it's not about the sex."

"God, Susan. You are such a fucking slut. You disgust me. Does it thrill you to make me fuck you when you've been with your lover? Do you ever make me go down on you after you've been with him? How much of a cuckold have you made me?"

"No, Jonathan. Don't say that. I would never do anything like that. I always clean up after I'm with him. I wouldn't do that to you. I love you. I wouldn't flaunt it like that. I don't want to hurt you. Please, can we not talk about this? I love you, honey. I want things to be wonderful between us. Can't you let me have this? I'll make sure you never regret it. I promise."

Jonathan shook his head. "Tell me when you've stopped seeing him. If I'm still around, we can see if there's anything left to salvage of our marriage." He turned and walked out the door, unwilling to continue the useless conversation.

He made himself a sandwich, and watched his wife take call after call in the bedroom. She walked up to him while he was cleaning up in the kitchen. "That was my grandfather, disowning me. Are you going to be a complete asshole about this? Do you really want to start a pissing contest you can't win?"

"Stop seeing him," Jonathan said. "I'm going out for a while. I'll be back for dinner. It would be nice if you took some time out of your busy schedule to cook something for once."

"You just got here," she whined. "We still have to talk."

"After dinner."

* * *

Using the information the Judge had acquired, Jonathan was standing on the doorstep of the Tudor, ten minutes later. It was a nice house, larger than his own. Far more than a single man needed.

The door opened. "Yes?"

Jonathan stuck his foot in the door. "I want you to stop fucking my wife. You killed your wife. Now you're killing my marriage. Stop."

The slender, smaller man looked up in fear. He leaned against the door, pushing it closed, but it didn't budge. "I...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop fucking Susan Freemont. Mrs. Jonathan Freemont. My wife. Don't ever get in a car with her. If you kill her too, I'll hunt you down and make sure your last minutes on earth are as miserable as possible. I don't want a killer fucking the mother of my children."

"I...I'm not a killer. It was an accident," the frightened man said.

"You killed her. You're living off the money you made doing it. You spent that blood money seducing then fucking my wife. Stop it. If you don't I will, and you won't like that."

"You can't threaten me!" the man whined.

"Stop fucking her, you little worm. There are plenty of single women out there that the fee for killing your wife can buy you. Leave my wife alone. Murdering bastard."

Jonathan walked away, confident he'd gotten his points across.

* * *

If Susan had been angry before, she was absolutely furious when he got home.

She marched toward him angrily, and he strolled past her, lifting his youngest onto his lap, tickling her, getting her to giggle.

"I'd like to talk, please," Susan said, standing beside him.

"Then talk."

"In private."

He shrugged, happy to have yanked her chain once more. He walked back to the bedroom, his wife following him, closing the door behind them.

"You attacked him? Threatened him? Called him a killer? A murderer?" she spat at her husband.

"Him? I'm not sure. Which him are you talking about?"

"God damn it, you know good and well. What do you think you're doing?"

"I told him I didn't want him fucking my wife anymore. I don't think that's unreasonable."

"You called him a killer!"

"Yes I did. He is. He killed his wife. I told him I didn't want him driving you anywhere. I don't want him killing you also. Even if you are a whore, you're still the mother of my children."

"He didn't kill her. It was an accident. You have no right saying that."

"He was driving. She died. He killed her. Just as dead as if he put a gun to her head."

"How could you? It almost destroyed him. He loved her. His depression was so bad he almost died. It took me years to get him to where he is today."

"So you're saying if I can get him depressed again, he might die, and this nightmare will all be over?" Jonathan asked.

She stared at the man she'd been married to for 11 years. How could he have changed so much in so little time? Become so heartless. So unfeeling. "You don't mean that. You couldn't."

"I'd dance on his grave, if it meant you becoming a good faithful wife again, and placing this family first."

She looked into his eyes and shivered. There was no doubt in her mind he was telling her the absolute truth. "He needs me, Jonathan. If you ever loved me, loved me at all, you'll understand. He needs me. Let this run its course. Give me a little time. When he's strong enough to be on his own, I... I'll give him up. Can we do that? Please? We won't have to talk about it. I'll be discrete. Nobody has to know. I'll be the perfect wife. Don't make this any worse."

"Do what you have to do, Susan. Obviously I can't stop you. But as long as you're seeing him, you're my wife in name only. You'll live in this house, and take care of the children, but our love will be on life support. I don't know how long it will last. I know you don't care, but it's only fair that you should know."

"Don't say I don't care, baby. I still love you. I'll show you. I only need a little while. If you can't accept that, then I will divorce you. I'll take your kids and your house, and I'll make Rich their father. Is that what you want?"

"That will never happen, Susan. You need to know that."

"How can you stop it? I have the law on my side. You'll pay. You'll work your ass off for kids you never see, so I can have my love, my home and my kids. You'll have nothing."

"Never happen, Susan. Take my word for it," he said sadly. "Don't put it to the test."

She stared at him nervously. He meant it. She could tell. Eleven years together told her he was dead serious.

"You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?" she asked.

"Stop seeing him. And stop threatening me."

He stared at her, daring her to challenge him. She was the first to blink, running into the bathroom, crying at how it had possibly come to this.

* * *

Carrot and Stick. That was the plan for Susan.

Hints for the carrot, Jonathan had received from the Eagle's wives. It made sense that a trio of 70-something women would know a thing or two about how the female mind operates.

Obviously, I didn't have a clue, he thought.

Susan was out of sorts after he'd shaken up her day. Quite intentionally. He decided to handle the kids, and give her some quiet time. He got them into bed, eventually, although Cindy was fighting to stay up past 9:00 now that she was a 'big' girl. He compromised, letting her stay up until 9:15, to cutoff the discussion, and maybe a little to assuage his guilt over leaving for two days.

With the house quieted down, he could hear Susan on the phone. It might have been lover-boy, or maybe there was a friend or two she confided in. He didn't know. At that moment, he didn't really care.

Jonathan opened a bottle of wine, and selected two crystal goblets for them. He knocked on the bedroom door, and waited a moment for her to get off the phone. She eventually opened it, looking up at him sadly. "You don't have to knock, it's your bedroom," she said softly.

He walked past her and put the tray down on the bedside table. He remembered her locking the door on him a few nights earlier. His bedroom. Right. "I didn't want to interrupt you on the phone," he explained.

"It...It was just my sister Jenny. She wanted to know what was going on. Everybody's talking, you know. You've really started a mess."

He hadn't started anything. She was the one fucking around, cheating. Now was the not the time to remind her of that. He poured out a glass for her, stood and put it in her hand. "It's been a rough week, hasn't it?"

He wanted her to open up. Start talking. He'd listen, as much as he could stand.

She nodded. "Horrible. I never wanted this, Jonathan. I thought everything could be the same. Not like this. Why do you have to make things so difficult?"

He filled his own glass, and patted the bed beside him. "Come. Sit by me. Let's talk. Quietly, civilly. I still love you, baby."

She climbed on the bed, her bed-shirt climbing up her thighs when she sat cross-legged facing him. "Talk? No yelling, no accusations?"

He reached out and rubbed her bare knee. "Yes, talk. What went wrong, Susan? How did I fail you that you needed to find what you were missing in another man's arms?"

The ice around her heart started to melt. He did care. "It's complicated, honey. I love you. I never stopped loving you. Please tell me you believe that."

"Of course I do," he said, barely able to stomach the lie. "Would we be here if I didn't?"

"It was never supposed to happen. It was all just a series of small little things that kept building. I started talking to him at a party, and he was so sad and dejected over his life, I found myself trying to comfort him. The first time I got him to smile was a huge success. The first tentative laugh was a greater one. I felt so good, like what I was doing mattered."

She looked at her husband nervously, and he just nodded. "It's wrong, I know, but I was tired of being just a Mom and housewife. My days a mind-numbing repetition. Taking care of a toddler, a six year old, and an eight year old, I never seemed to have time for me. You were so busy all the time. I know, God Jonathan, it hurts to even say it. I know you were doing it for us, for me, for the kids, for the family, but all you did was work, and come home exhausted, and I... I felt unloved, like you didn't care for me. I was just a nanny and housekeeper."

Jonathan reviewed the advice the older women had given him. Don't argue about what she felt, right or wrong. Let her come to the right conclusions on her own, steer her that way carefully. Allow her to put some of the blame on him, accept it, and she'd feel all the more guilty.

"I'm sorry, baby. I should have seen it. Ten hour days, six days a week are pretty exhausting, when you have a physical job like mine. It's no excuse for letting things slide between us. I appreciated everything you did, even though I might not have said it."

She shook her head, eyes glistening. "I know it wasn't your fault. I could have talked to you more about it. But you seemed like you were slipping away. No time for me, for us. You were drinking more, you always seemed to be sitting on that couch with a beer in your hand. I started hating that damn couch, and that TV. You always had time for them, but not for me."

Jonathan let her vent. "I'm often under a lot of stress. It was something I did to try to relieve that. I didn't want you to have to feel the pressure I was under. We were letting people go, and there was more and more to do, with tighter schedules. I should have talked to you about it, instead of holding it in."

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I was bored, and he became my project. That was all, to start with. There was nothing there for a year. I didn't see him that way, I swear. I felt good helping him, watching him slowly pull himself together. I felt useful, and that's what I needed. That was our entire problem. It was never about a lack of affection, or our love-making, or falling out of love with you. I never stopped loving you. I was doing something that made me feel good, and I was proud. I wasn't doing anything wrong, except maybe spend too much time with another man, but it wasn't romantic. It was like a job. One I was doing well at."