Temper Tantrum

"I have two kids that I'm raising on a shoestring. A cheating husband who will be sitting in jail for god knows how many years to come. I was looking for a temporary respite from my despair and being a little high and a little drunk I used really bad judgement and set my sights on Sal. What you didn't see is your husband pushing me away. You would have seen that his pants were still zipped and despite my best efforts, he didn't even have a hard on. You didn't see your very ashamed and embarrassed sister cover herself up and pour out her apologies to him. You didn't hear your gentle, loving husband sit there and console me or my begging him not to tell you what I had tried to do.

When I told him that I had to pick up the boys because mom had an early doctor's appointment and they couldn't sleep over he insisted that I not drive in my condition and he went and picked them up. That's why he got home so late."

A momentary wave of doubt crossed my mind but my rage was so palpable that I was able to push it away, as I said in a sarcastic voice:

"Very convenient story Maureen, how long did it take the two of you to concoct it?"

In a pleading voice, she replied: "Honest to God, Cat, I haven't seen or heard from Sal since he dropped the twins off Thursday night. Every word I said is the truth. I didn't even know that you had been in the house until I saw the pizza box the next morning."

I suddenly had a thought and without another word I walked over to the counter and removed my cell phone from the charger. As I was turning it on Mo asked suspiciously: "Who are you calling"

When I told her "Mom" she became a little hysterical.

"Please, Cat, please don't tell Mom. I'm already her 'black sheep', Don't make me even more of a looser in her eyes than I already am.", she begged.

As I punched in her number I gave my sister a look that was not to be challenged. As the phone rang I put it on speaker so that my back-stabbing sister could hear her lie revealed.

"Hi Mom, it's me," I said when she answered.

"Hi Honey, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine. Listen I have a quick question for you."

The look of despair on Maureen's face was palpable, but I continued:

"Sal either lost or misplaced his wallet a few days ago. He's looked everywhere, with no luck. I was thinking that your house was the only place we haven't thought of. I was wondering if you could look around since he was there Thursday night to pick up the twins."

This was the point where I expected my sister lie to be exposed and I sneered at her with a look of contempt.

My mother seemed to hesitate but then replied"

"Well, I haven't seen it but he did sit on the couch for a while as I got the boys stuff together. Why don't you hold on while I check under the cushions."

The tiny wave of doubt that I had experienced just a few minutes ago resurfaced with a vengeance and my heart started to pound in my chest and I felt light headed.

The voice coming through the speaker startled me as I heard my mother's voice say:

"I'm sorry honey, but I didn't find it. I'll look around some more but I can't remember Sal being anywhere else in the house. I'm still in my pajamas and robe but I'll check around by the driveway when I get dressed."

"OK Mom, thanks, I managed to mutter before adding: I've got to run, I'll call you." I disconnected and fell onto a chair next to Mo. My mind was awash with fears and doubts but the jury was still out. The jury soon came back with an acquittal when Mo placed her hand on mine and looking directly into my eyes, said"

"Cat, I swear to God, and on the life of my children, nothing happened. Other than what you saw the only thing Sal did was try to console me and advise me how to move on with my life without Joey."

I moved my hand from under hers and putting both of my hands over my face, I began to sob.

SALVATORE:

I am usually a methodical person, I plan my days in advance, my weeks and even, to some extent, my life. Catherine acts more on impulse, not that she's flighty, she just lets tomorrow take care of itself. When I left the house, dumbfounded at having seen Cat's hickey on her breast and witnessed the seamen stuck to her pussy and legs, I was in total shock. It would take a while until my confusion gave way to anger and hurt. As I backed my car into the street I realized I had no plan, no destination, not a clue as to where I was going. Driving aimlessly for about fifteen minutes I pulled into an IHOP when it appeared on my right. I wasn't really hungry but I had to get out from behind the wheel because my focus was not on the road and I had already gone through a stop sign, only noticing it at the sound of screeching tires and a long horn blast by the other driver.

The breakfast crowd was already gone and there were very few patrons as I took a booth as far away from the front door and other diners that I could find. I wasn't sure if my stomach could handle food but I ordered some scrambled eggs and bacon to accompany my coffee if for no other reason than to legitimize my taking up the space.

As I sipped my coffee and absently forked some eggs into my mouth, I recalled the look of contempt in Cat's eyes and her statement about 'payback'. I thought, "what could make her so angry, so furious to make her destroy our marriage. It had been a good marriage, no make that a 'great' marriage. She was content at her job knowing that we would soon be starting a family. I worked some long hours but not exceptionally so now that I had made partner. I didn't neglect her either emotionally or in bed."

I finally deduced that there was only one thing that could have driven her to do what she had done and then to add further insult, rub my nose in it. She must think that I'm having an affair, but why? I never go out of town on business. There are some attractive women at my firm but none that I was especially close to, everything on their part and mine was strictly professional. Aside from work neither of us did anything separately. We enjoyed one another's company and did everything together. So, WHY?

Finishing my third cup of coffee I realized that, 'the why' didn't matter. The 'where' didn't matter. Even the 'who' didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the betrayal. I had lived through it once with my mother's betrayal of my dad and I was not going to consider any explanation or apology. I had my destination, it was Divorce Court.

CATHERINE

When I awoke early on Monday morning I had already determined that I was not going to go to the office. The firm's policy allowed us to accrue vacation time and since I had plenty on the books I requested the week off. Not being an essential part of anything going on my request was quickly approved. Now my problem was, how to get Sal to talk to me, he had not replied to any of my messages. All of my calls on Monday went directly to his voice mail. The same was true on Tuesday and that afternoon I called his office but was told that he was still in meetings and to please leave a message.

By Wednesday I finally realized that he would not answer his cell phone because he'd recognized my number so I went to a local retailer and purchased a disposable phone. As soon as the phone was activated I called. He answered "Hello" on the third ring but when I said: "Sal, it's me," he immediately disconnected.

I was going crazy being alone in the house. I tortured myself with photo albums and digital pictures of us on the computer. I spent most of the time shedding tears of self-recrimination. I even tried to get myself angry at Sal for allowing himself to be coerced into a situation where my sister could have tempted his resolve. After each attempt at projecting the blame on to him I would come to the realization that the only thing that mattered was that I went and did what I, mistakenly, thought he had done.

My only hope was that he would listen to me and understand how distraught I had been at the time and find it in his heart to forgive me. I even convinced myself that he was just punishing me for the time being and in the end, he would come home and we could put this behind us. Of course, those thoughts were delusional, because on Friday morning, when I answered the door bell, I was served with divorce papers.

Over the course of the week I had left dozens of lengthy, distraught voice mails and even had composed a long letter of contrition which I sent registered mail to his firm since I had no idea where he was staying. One of the reasons that I had taken the week off and never left the house was because I knew that at some point he would have to come home to pick up his clothes and he would have no choice but to listen to me. His suits, shirts, ties and all of his necessary business attire was still at the house. When by the end of the weekend he had not returned or contacted me I could feel the depth of his hurt and the anger in his heart.

Reluctantly I dragged myself to work on Monday morning. Oddly enough I had not thought of Josh for the entire week. The images that tormented me were devoid of the person I had committed the betrayal with. The images were just of me ridding a cock, sucking someone's penis and a faceless head between my legs. I remembered the pleasure but was confused as to whether it had been the pleasure of the sex or the pleasure of the vengeance. If Josh hadn't been a convenient outlet for my rage I knew it would have been someone else.

Even though someone was supposed to have covered my work load while I was gone my inbox was full as I sat down at my desk. I was trying to prioritize the contracts that had been left for me, when around 10:30, a concerned looking Josh Broilly entered my office closing the door behind him. He seemed to be scrutinizing my face for a moment before stating:

"Jesus, Cathy, you look terrible. Shit, I didn't mean it that way but you look like you've lost ten pounds in a week. I wanted to call you but I didn't want to interfere with whatever was going on in your marriage. I hope I'm not putting my nose in where it doesn't belong but did you and Sal work out your problems?

Before I had gone to Josh's room that Friday night he had become suspicious at my amorous advances and asked:

"What the hell is going on here Cat? This isn't like you and I don't want to be responsible for possibly breaking up a marriage. I would like nothing better than to get you into my bed but you've had a few drinks and if you're doing this because you had a spat with your husband, this is not the way to resolve it".

I told him the whole story about how I had found Sal fucking my sister at her house and that I probably wasn't going to be married for much longer. Josh was still hesitant but after pulling him in for another slow dance and rubbing my thigh on his growing erection, his gallant effort at marriage counseling was forgotten.

I hung my head and my tears were flowing silently as he sat in the chair next to my desk and gently took my hand. It took me a few moments before I could speak but after drying my eyes with a tissue I began to relate what had happened. How I had come home and slipped into bed naked and how I had exposed the evidence of my adultery when Sal had come out of the bathroom. How I had sneered at him and taunted him with my words before he walked out.

"Jeezus girl, you certainly know how to burn your bridges, he said with a sigh. Even so, he continued enthusiastically, you did a tit for tat, so why can't you both put it behind you and move on?" From what you've told me you guys have a good thing going, why throw it all in the crapper for a one-time mistake."

I was staring away from Josh looking at the wall slowly shaking my head when he let go of my hand and harshly exclaimed:

"Don't tell me that son of a bitch and your sister have a thing going. Tell me they're not planning to..."

Before he could finish I whispered:

They didn't have sex! Not that night, not ever."

"WHAT? How can that be, you saw them with your own eyes. You told me you saw them from a few feet away doing it on the sofa."

It took a minute before I could compose myself enough to reply and when I was able to speak I told him of how Maureen was drunk and a little high and how she had planned to just borrow Sal for an hour or two. How he had rejected her and comforted her. How he came home late because he wouldn't let her drive and had gone to our mother's house to retrieve her children. How I have not been able to speak to him since he walked out.

Now he was shaking his head, but asked:

"How do you know all that is true Cat? It's just their word. You saw what you saw."

"I know Josh. I know beyond a reasonable doubt. I wish I could dismiss her words as just bullshit to cover her ass but I called my mom and she confirmed when he was there and what time he left. More importantly I know my sister and I know when she is lying. I should have confronted him, given him his time to defend himself but I went off halfcocked and became judge, jury and executioner. Sal's mother was screwing around on his dad and it was Sal that caught her in bed with her lover when he was a kid. Even though she seems to have straightened her life out Sal barely speaks to her till this day. He has zero tolerance for cheaters and to him that is all I am, a cheater."

Later that day when I returned home I discovered that Sal had removed all of his clothes and some personal effects. The only piece of furniture missing was his favorite leather, vibrating recliner that he had splurged on when he made partner. Much later when I went to bed I noticed our framed wedding picture on the dresser. I collapsed onto the bed and sobbed. He had carefully cut out his image and left me standing alone in my wedding dress in front of the church.

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

I never did get to speak to Sal. I never got the chance to plead my case. I wrote him another long, heartfelt, love letter begging his forgiveness but if he read it, he never acknowledged it. He had filed under 'irreconcilable differences' and requested a fifty-fifty split, including the house. Reluctantly, I signed the petition and put the house up for sale as he requested through his attorney.

When the house finally went into contract I started looking for a place to live. I didn't want to buy anything, not wanting to make that kind of commitment. I guess in the back of my head I held on to some vague hope that Sal and I might get back together. I answered an ad for the rental of a two-bedroom condo within walking distance to my job. The owner was looking for a professional person or couple so I called and made an appointment to see it the following Saturday morning.

After ringing the bell, a tall, handsome man with thick wavy black hair and piercing blue eyes answered the door and after introducing myself he invited me in. He offered me coffee or a cold drink which I declined. The apartment was impeccably decorated with expensive furniture and a lot of, what looked like, original paintings decorating the walls. He explained that he was an artist and would be spending the next two years finishing his studies in France, working with a well-known painter, whose name escapes me. He explained that he needed to rent the unit completely furnished so as to avoid having to acquire storage space and the possibility that the paintings might be damaged.

Vincent was charming and engaging and made me feel very much at ease as he recounted his love of art and his aspirations to be more recognized in the field. I was amazed when he informed me that all of the paintings were his own creations and how his work had been chiefly influenced by the master that he would be studying under in France. Oddly, his exuberance was contagious and I found myself being excited for him.

As I said, he was extremely handsome, having broad shoulders, fine facial features and flawless skin. His clothes were expensive and seemed to have been tailored to his muscular frame. If my emotions weren't saw raw he certainly could be someone I would be attracted to but in my present state of mind I just admired him as a piece of human art.

When we had spoken on the phone I had told him that I was an attorney, that I was single, worked for a nearby law firm, and little else. Now as he stared at me with those penetrating blue eyes and a gently smile on his lips, he asked:

"So, tell me, Catherine, how long have you been divorced?" His question startled me and I was at a loss for words but he continued:

"Please, don't think me impertinent but as an artist I am attuned to human mannerisms and demeanor. They are qualities that I try to capture in my paintings. Of course, I'm not clairvoyant so the fact that you are a very attractive woman and have been with your firm for a number of years and are now looking to rent rather than purchase leads me to believe that other circumstances have brought you here. Frankly, you also have a bit of a haunted look that would indicate a recent, tragic, turn of events in your life. Like I said, my field of endeavor requires that I study and interpret the human condition."

Finally, I managed a weak smile and said:

"Well, Vincent, your intuition is correct. I am divorced, well in the process, at any rate."

My home - - - , our home, is in contract and I will need some place to stay in about sixty days.

Glancing at his watch he exclaimed:

"Oh my! It's almost one o'clock. I've been boring you with talk of my work for over an hour. There is a lovely French bistro around the corner, allow me to take you to lunch and we can discuss the details of the rental in more detail, that is, if you're still interested"

"Thank you but I really can't," I said as I reached for my purse.

"Ahh, I see, he laughed, you think I'm coming on to you, trying to take advantage of your vulnerability."

He stood and approaching me offered his hand as he leaned down and said softly:

"Fear not, Cherie, I am one hundred percent gay, have been my entire life. It is the reason that my wealthy father and I are estranged. Thanks to my mother, however, he begrudgingly supports my artistic endeavors."

Lunch with Vincent was the first meal that actually enjoyed since my ordeal had begun. The several glasses of excellent Cabernet allowed me to use Vincent as the much-needed conduit to express my pent-up emotions. Little by little I found myself telling him the whole sordid affair and true to his nature he was sympathetic and understanding, and in no way judgmental.

Two bottles of wine later when we left the bistro it was almost 4:30 and Vincent, who had dispensed some sage advice insisted that I not drive and since I was aware of my emotional state combined with a large amount of alcohol, I agreed. Back at the condo he showed me to the guest room and suggested that I take a long nap. He apologized, saying:

"I am sorry Catherine but I have a dinner engagement that I have to prepare for but please make yourself comfortable, help yourself to anything. There are some excellent wines in the cooler and the refrigerator is fairly well stocked. Relax, get familiar with the place, after all it will be your home soon. As a matter of fact, you might want to consider staying over since we never got around to going over any of the necessary legal paperwork. If you decide to stay there are some clothes in the dresser that I'm sure you can make work".

With that said he disappeared to the master suite and I collapsed on the bed and in a few minutes, was asleep. I awoke around eleven o'clock and was initially disoriented before remembering where I was. My head was pounding from the wine and I took some aspirin that I found in the medicine cabinet. Upon entering the living room I determined that Vincent was not home yet and remembering his offer made some toast and a cup of tea.