It's Only Fair Ch. 07

She giggled and nodded her head, barely keeping her tears from spilling down her cheeks. I pulled her towards me and gave her a kiss, hugging her once firmly and fiercely. I could taste my own essence faintly on her lips as she pushed her tongue tentatively between my teeth and hugged me back. I allowed her a few seconds of making out before ending the kiss and pulling her away. "You are a terrific woman, Kerri. I can't thank you enough."

"And you are a wonderful man, Rick. I am lucky to count you as my friend." She sat up and fixed her shirt, pulling it back into place, her cleavage shining at me as she did so. She noted my longing gaze and smiled deeply. Pulling her shirt and bra cup away from her body, she flashed me her left breast and laughed. "Something to remember me by."

I shook my head, already knowing I was going to be jerking off to today's memories for some time to come. "As if I could forget you, Kerri." I looked at the clock and breathed deeply. "I hate to be a party pooper, but we have to end this and I need to get you back."

We both straightened ourselves up and I tucked my shirt in and zipped myself up. Kerri applied a fresh coat of lipstick and blew me a kiss when she was finished. When I drove into the parking lot she reached over and held my hand. "I'll take what you can give, when you can give it, Rick. This was not a mistake, I wanted this, you needed this. And I will not forget today. Please call me when you get the chance and remember, I'm your friend. You can count on me." Before I could reply she dashed in and gave me a quick peck on the lips and then reversed herself, sliding out of the Camry on her plush posterior. "Thanks for lunch, Rick. It was...delicious!" She slammed the car door and skipped her way toward the door, her friends already gathered there and waving happily in my direction.

The rest of my day was very focused for me. I was riding a euphoric high as the hours passed by, reliving my afternoon again and again. But as the hours ticked along, I could feel the anger and hatred for Stan rebuilding itself in my heart, crowding out Kerri's actions as it wormed its way into my thoughts. It didn't go away, it stayed there, taunting me with its plaintive call; sounding exactly like Stan's voice.

Rick, you're a loser.

Rick, you've been betrayed.

Rick, you have no friends.

Rick, there's nothing you can do.

Rick, I fucked you over.

Rick, I screwed around with your wife.

Rick, you're a loser.

Rick, you're a dick.

Rick the dick. Rick the dick. Rick the dick.

Ugh. There had to be something I could do, Something that would allow me to balance the scales. To even the slights. To make it...to make it fair.

At the end of the day I was asked to stay later to share my notes with Andy and Victor, the first time I had the pleasure of Victor's direct company since the argument. Given the amount of stress I was under and the pleasurable lunch I had with Kerri, I was sharply focused and quick and accurate during the meeting. My answers were short, my explanations concise, and my notes gave all the pertinent information the two of them needed. It was after 6 when we ended the meeting but I did get a professional thanks from Victor and Andy added his own appreciation as well.

I walked out to the lot and drove home, forced to sit in worse traffic since I had left so late. It wasn't until almost 7 that I took the exit for route 231. I drove up to the garage where I managed to get a friendly manager willing to look at Jan's car. I called her up and told her that I was running very late and that the three of them should eat without me. I could hear my mother and Amber playing in the background as Jan offered to 'save me a plate.'

"Not necessary, Jan. I won't be out of here until 8ish. I'm going to dash home from here, grab a set of pj's for amber and something from the fridge, and then I'll meet you at your house."

"You be safe, Rick. And thanks again for this. We'll see you later."

Jan's car was fixed; an oil change and the loose muffler bracket was retightened. I paid the manager and drove her car back to my house. It was already 8:21 and I had a pounding headache. I pulled into the driveway and went into the house exhaustedly. I looked in the fridge and nothing seemed appetizing to me. Seeing nothing else, I plucked out an apple and ate it standing in the kitchen; my eyes focused on the digital clock.

Fuck.

I went into the bedroom and got changed, putting on shorts and a tee shirt, slipping on my sneakers. I grabbed some clothes for Amber and tossed them into a bag.

8:58.

I left the house, letting the door close behind me, as I walked my way deep in thought to the brown Camry. I climbed in and started it up, checking my rear view mirror to make sure the coast was clear. It was safe enough for me to drive, but my attention was firmly on Stan's house. His car was there, no lights were on iside, and his front porch light was lit. "Fucker is probably walking," I muttered as I drove down the block. "Prick should just have a heart attack and die."

When I got to Deer Park Avenue and turned towards Lindenhurst, I drove slowly, my eyes watching the streets on the left side as I passed them. Funny names of trees and Indian tribes and last names of people who lived here long ago.

Like this one, Stanton Drive. The same road that Stan used as his destination to walk to before heading back home. There was a crappy stationary store and smoke shop on the corner here, faded and filthy yellow sign shone with poor illumination over the cluttered store front windows. I put on my left blinker and turned down Stanton.

What was I doing? Why was I looking for Stan?

I didn't have the answer as I drove down the residential neighborhood, only a building sensation of peace that was eating at the unrequited fury in my heart. It flowed up and over my chest, radiating outward as I drove the poorly lit roadway. I could feel the sensation easing across my limbs, down my arms, over my fingertips. I felt so calm and ready.

At the second block my headlights picked out a figure walking on the right hand side of the road. His hands were thrust into the ragged pockets of his battered black sweatshirt. I drew closer I was able to make out his balding salt and pepper head, the lankiness of his frame, the way he walked. When I was half a block away he turned back to note the approaching car and I knew it was Stan. My quarry.

He stepped closer to the curb, head back around to watch the road beneath his sneakers. Not a care in world. Not a worry.

I looked at my speed. 25 mph. Proper speed for a residential block. It was dark. No street lights. The distance closed. I was so calm. It felt right. Like when I first got into that fight. Like when I first kissed Elle. Like when Amber was born. Like when I stood up to Victor. Like today, when I was with Kerri.

At a time in my life when nothing was going my way; when the world was sided against me; when I had precious few I could trust – for a few moments, it all faded away, leaving perfect nirvana in my grasp. A time for me to balance the scales.

And with that sense of ease bolstering me, I lifted my foot from the gas pedal and gently turned the wheel to the right, slamming the front corner of Jan's car into Stan's unsuspecting walking form. I heard the impact, nothing like on TV. It was short and hollow; almost fake. Stan was catapulted ahead and over the front quarter panel of the Camry, bouncing off the hood as the impact of 2,000 lbs of steel, plastic, and rubber smashed into him. I caught a brief glimpse of him out the passenger window before he was out of the car's illumination and lost in the darkness.

I didn't slow down, speed up, or stop. I just drove away with the same feeling one would have accidentally running over a discarded paper cup in the street. It was nothing to me, just so much garbage.

At the next block I turned to the right and made my way out of the residential neighborhood and back to the main road, finishing my drive to Jan's house. I was quiet, thinking about what I had done, weighing it in my mind. I had no opinion yet.

At Jan's, I pulled her car into the driveway and got out; giving the front of her vehicle a once over. Nothing. There might have been a fresh ding but truthfully, I couldn't see it.

Got you, you bastard. I smiled. I got you you fucking prick. I got you and you'll never know it was me. Dark road, at night, in a car you don't know, and I drove the fuck away leaving you there writhing in imagined agony with nary a thought. "Fucking yeah," I muttered as I made my way up the steps and knocked on the door.

Amber was tired and the two grandmothers kept up their back and forth chatter as I got her dressed in her night clothes. I gave Jan a kiss thanks and she passed me a blank check, telling me to fill it in for whatever the cost of the repairs were. From there my mother, Amber, and I got into her car and she drove the two of us home.

"So."

I looked at her, "Yeah, Ma?"

"You seem quiet. You bothered the bitch is getting out?"

I shrugged. My thoughts weren't on Elle at this time, but on Stan and how...good I felt. "No, Ma. As long as she's getting help, that's all I wanted."

"Jan told me that the twat wanted you to forgive and forget." She grinned, "And I heard you must have found your balls in one of her old purses."

"Yeah. I told her no."

My mother was uncharacteristically quiet for a mile or two before she volunteered, "I don't like what she's done to you, Rick. Not at all. But I also know that you deserve better. I give you a lot of flak, but I think you're making the right decision."

"Yeah." I looked down at my lap as she drove. "I guess I just feel like I failed."

"No, Rick. It's not a contest. No one wins and no one fails. Marriage is hard work, you have to bust your ass at it every day. Anyone who tells you otherwise is bullshitting you. But for a marriage to work, it takes two people participating in it." She thumped the steering wheel with her forefinger. "And in your case only one of you was participating."

I grunted. "Yeah. That I know."

"So."

"So?"

"So, let's hope that she stays fucking level headed long enough to figure it out and let you out."

"We'll see, Ma. We'll see."

She dropped us off and I kissed her goodbye, noting that as she left that there was no change to the way Stan's house looked. I stifled a smirk, raised an eyebrow, and went into my house with my daughter feeling pretty damned good all things considered.

The next day had us both up and out on time and I did see that Stan's car was still in the driveway but his front light was turned off. "Whatever."

When I dropped Amber off at daycare I made an effort to behave no different to Kerri. I was friendly, chatty, and just as open as I was before yesterday. The only difference I could see was that she was struggling to keep her excitement at seeing me barely in check. We talked about lunch but I begged off, telling her that I was going to be on the phone with Lenny today due to Elle being released and that I also needed to schedule some meeting with CPS concerning my soon to be ex-wife and visitation (if at all).

The week passed along and I heard through enough channels that Elle was home. She had a small cocktail of drugs she had to take and was seeing a psychologist as well. CPS did not want to have her with Amber as of yet, wanting to wait to hear what her therapist had to say. The Law Guardian was pressing for us to have the meeting with the Forensic Psychologist as she was still unhappy with the status quo.

I didn't see Stan at all and it wasn't until Saturday when I was out mowing my lawn that I recognized his brother's pick-up truck pull in front of his house. He came bounding out, wearing only flip-flops, ragged shorts, and one of his company' tee shirts with the sleeves missing. "Yo, Rick!" he called, coming across the street.

Stan's brother Jimmy was a stand up guy. He looked like his younger brother but seemed both healthier and just more successful. I had never had a problem with him and didn't think I was going to have one now. 'No one knows, Rick. Be cool.' I shook his hand and grinned at him. "Hey, Jim. How you doing?"

"Been better, but who cares, right?" He replied cocksure.

I thrust my chin across the street at his brother's house. "If you're looking for Stan, I think he's home. Haven't seen him much."

"Dude, you don't know?"

I steeled myself, feigning puzzlement. "Know what?"

"Bro got hit earlier this week while walking."

"No shit?" Focus, Rick. Don't you dare fucking smile. "What happened? He ok?"

"Dumb shit was walking near Deer Park Ave at night and someone clipped him pretty good."

"Fuck. Any idea?"

"Nah. It was at night and who ever hit him, probably didn't even know it it's so fucking dark over there." He stretched. "Fucking poor bastard's thigh and hip took the brunt of the blow and are pretty fucked up. Busted bones and such."

"Wow." Keep cool, Rick. No smiles, think of nuns, dead kittens, head lice. Don't smile. "That's fucked up. Where is he?"

"Good Sam Hospital right now. Doc has so many pins in his body, he's gonna be fucked up for a long time. Don't think he's gonna be able to walk for a while, to say nothing of work."

"Shit, Jim. I'm sorry. Doesn't that leave you in the lurch?"

"Nah, my crew's pretty full. Truthfully, if he wasn't my brother, I wouldn't have him work for me; he's just doesn't really give it a good effort." He checked his watch. "Anyway, just here to get some insurance papers and clothes for him. You take care, Rick!"

"You too, Jim. And thanks!" Yeah, thanks Jim for the best news I have heard in a long, long time.

I turned back to my lawn, leaving the mower where it was to scoop Amber out of her playpen and hugging her tight. "Hey, Sunshine?" I asked, nuzzling her cheek, causing her to giggle. "What say we leave this lawn for later and go to the park?"

"Ducks, dada?" She asked, eyes wide with wonderment.

"Yeah, Honey. Let's go feed the ducks!"

It was over a year later that my divorce to Elle went through. It was a difficult year for Amber and I. However I stayed firm with Lenny that it was Team Amber and under no circumstances was I going to give up my daughter. The visits with the Forensic Psychologist were grueling for me but they must have been toxic for Elle, because I had an opportunity to read the report after it was forward to Lenny (and everyone else who required it) and it stated in plain speak that Elle should have limited and supervised contact with Amber for some time and that there was no issue with the child's current home status.

After that report, the Law Guardian eased up her crusade against me. I found out that Elle and I were both on the State Central Registry, some database that was kept in Albany where any person charged with neglect was listed. The idea was that if you were on the Registry, you couldn't get a job working with kids, drive a bus, be a teacher, a foster parent, or be allowed to adopt. I had railed and fought with Lenny about this but he informed me that it was common practice in New York State to tar and feather both parents in any neglect charges.

So in addition to CPS, being a full time single parent, my job, my divorce, and taking care of my life, I also had to file a case against New York state to have my record expunged. It took five months to put it together but the final result was anti-climactic. I met with Lenny and three representatives in some lawyer's office in Melville where they went over the case and all agreed that it was unfounded. And like that, my name was cleared.

The cost of the divorce was high in terms of dollars, but as for stress, it never got as bad as it did those first weeks and months. I was no longer a loser, I was no longer a victim. Elle and I did meet a few times to discuss the division of assets and it was so odd to sit with her.

She was just not the same person. It was difficult to get an emotion out of her and it felt like I was talking to a zombie. She cared about what we were talking about whenever we did talk, but at the same token she didn't care. The drugs had done their job and regulated her bi-polar disorder – but at the expense of what it was that made Elle, Elle.

I had to buy her out for her share of the house, but there was no maintenance or alimony even though I made more than she did. She was required to pay a minimal amount of child support, $25 a week. A token barely. So I remortgaged the house in just my name, paid off every credit card I had, gave her her share of the equity, and rebudgeted my life with just a single income.

That meant I had to watch what I spent my money on. Like lunches.

Kerri understood and I still saw her every morning and afternoon. We spoke every day, twice a day, and I took to calling her now and again at night or on the weekend. She came over a few times when I had barbeques or other friendly get togethers. I could see the longing in her eyes, but I held back and didn't partake. Not because I didn't want to. I found her attractive and god knows Amber liked her. But she was just too young for me, and I had to think with my big head – not my little one.

So Kerri and I remained friends, good friends, but nothing more. She still flirted with me and our kisses goodbye lasted a few seconds longer than proper, but I had to do what was right in the long term for my daughter and I.

As for Stan, he eventually came back home and I saw him now and again for a few months. He was hobbling pretty bad, leaning on a cane in obvious pain as he made his way around his property. His lawn became weedy and overgrown, his shrubs became wild, and I noticed that the place didn't look nearly as neat any more. And then about three months ago after the cold snap of winter had ended, Stan's brother and a number of his work crew had shown up and over the course of a weekend moved Stan out to somewhere else. I didn't ask and didn't care. Since then a Coldwell Banker Realty sign has been hanging in front of the place but so far, no one's moved in.

The day of the decree I was sitting in court across from Elle in the vestibule while our lawyers were inside wrapping up the paperwork. She was dressed in an off blue blouse and grey pants, her black hair combed straight and hanging behind her. We had been talking about Amber's recent 2nd birthday party and that the grandmothers had once again overspent on our child when she cleared her throat and interrupted our train of conversation. "Say, Rick?" she asked in that same flat voice she used nowadays, her eyes dull and listless as she sought out mine.

"Yeah, Elle?"

"I know I've said it. But I'm really sorry."

"I know, Elle. Me too."

"You ever think we'd be here, like this?"

I cocked my head to the side and sighed. "Truthfully, no. But there was nowhere else we could have ended up."

"I just...I just feel like such a loser, Rick."

I leaned forward and took her hand in mine, drawing her gaze to my own. "There is no winning or losing, Elle. You just are. It will get better, trust me in this."

Her eyes grew glassy, not with a rising mania, but with unshed tears. "I know, Rick. It's just not fair."

"No, Elle. It isn't fair." I saw Lenny come out of the court room and motion us to come in. I stood up, pulling her to her feet and turning her to face me. "It isn't fair. But it is what we have."

I gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek and guided her towards the open doors. "Let's go, Elle. It's time."

And that wraps up my first story here on Literotica. I want to thank everyone for reading, commenting, and voting on my tale. I tried to keep the tale as grounded in real life as possible with real world decisions and real life consequences. This is not an autobiography and I am not Rick. I am just a writer, telling a story to anyone who wanted to read it.