My Happy Ending

I made a U-turn and headed towards downtown instead of home. I passed by a car dealership and noticed several new cars out there. I saw the newly redesigned Chevrolet Impala. It really did nothing for me. Near the Impala there was a Camaro in its full Transformers glory. It looked like an insect to me. But I did slow down as I drove past it. A guy in the lot gestured for me to come into the lot but I shook my head and waved at him. I drove further down the street and found a Ford dealership. I decided to at least look at some of their cars. Maybe a new Ford Fusion or a Lincoln would be a good trade for my old Corolla.

I parked in the lot and started wandering around looking at sticker prices and comparing gas mileage. I looked at trunk space and the amount of headroom each vehicle offered. I looked at safety features and had it narrowed down to the Ford Edge, the Taurus or the Ford Fusion. I was sure that for our travels the edge would probably be best. The Taurus would be the most practical and the Fusion, with its advanced electronics would be the most stylish. I knew that Amanda would be equally happy with the Fusion or the Edge once she got used to the fact that it was practically a minivan. But if a lot of our trips were going to be road trips, the Edge became more and more practical.

"Know what you want yet sir?" asked a salesman. I had to applaud his technique. Unlike the guys at the GM dealership who'd been begging me to come onto the lot like whores in the red light district calling out to Johns, this guy just sat back and let the product talk to me. He knew he had a sale before he ever said a word so all we had to do was pick a car and negotiate a price. His smile told me that he was ready to negotiate. I was sure that we were going to do some dickering.

"So what facts are we considering?" he asked. "Are you mostly looking for practicality, comfort or gas mileage?"

I turned and looked at him. He knew his customers. He'd seem me running back and forth reading information from the stickers in the cars' windows. As I turned to look at him all of my logic and research went out the window. I looked right beyond him as if I was looking through him. It was like falling in love for the first time or being struck by lightning.

"I want that car," I said.

He turned to look where I was pointing. "An excellent choice sir," he said. "That's a Twenty twelve Mustang GT. I can get you that car in any color you'd like. Let me show you a chart with all of the colors it comes in."

"Maybe you didn't hear me," I said. "I want that car. That exact one."

"Well, sir," he said. "You don't want that car. It's a display model that we put together for a show. It's been uhm...modified slightly."

"How exactly has it been modified?" I asked.

"Well, it has bigger racing wheels, bigger brakes, a front splitter; a Whipple twin screw supercharger and a Pype bomb performance exhaust system. It's really not practical. Outfitted like that you'd have trouble keeping tires on it if you have a heavy foot. And your gas mileage is going to suck. You'll barely get 16 miles to the gallon. And it's really loud."

"Sold," I said. He looked at me curiously.

"Sir, uhm, the cost of the upgrades will make the car more expensive," he said. It was the first time I'd ever heard a salesman trying to talk a customer out of buying something.

"Look," I told him. "I'm not sure what the deal is here. I want that car. Take it off of the ramp and let's make a deal. I don't want to argue over price. While we sit down and do the paperwork, I'll call my insurance agent and have it added to my current insurance. Is there a problem with that?"

"Well sir, I'm not sure it's the right car for you. I figure you're in your early forties right? If I make you happy and find a car that you love, I'll get to sell you more cars over the next twenty years. Since you're probably married and your wife probably drives, I might even double that number. But if I sell you a car you hate, I've lost a customer," he said.

"Don't worry," I told him. "That car and me were made for each other. From the first second I saw it behind you, it was like it was calling to me. For most of my life I've played it safe and practical. I'm finally at a point in my life where I can and want to howl a little bit and do some things that are purely for fun and purely for me. I've busted my ass for most of my life and now it's time for my happy ending. I want a car more for fun than for practicality."

"Let's do that paperwork sir," he said smiling.

Less than two hours later, I pulled the car out of the lot. There was immediately a battle for supremacy. I gave it what I thought was a tiny bit of gas. I gave it far less than I'd ever given the Corolla, but I got a totally different result. There was no small chirp as the wheels sought out traction; it was a blood curdling scream that threw up pebbles and a bit of smoke until I backed off. Every head in the vicinity turned towards me. The salesman gave me the thumbs up and I smiled. Then I edged the car out of the lot without giving it any gas at all. I had the biggest smile on my face as I drove back past the Chevy dealership. I wanted to catch that Camaro on the road.

I drove home, looking out the window to see who was looking at me. I had that smile all the way until I pulled into my driveway and Amanda came out. As soon as I saw her, the smile vanished. My mouth became a straight line and my lips and teeth were forced together with so much pressure that I could have bitten through steel.

I'm sure that she saw my smile vanish as I saw her, because hers did too.

"Whose car is this, Honey?" she asked.

"Mine," I said without further information.

"When did you get it?" she asked, following me into the house.

"Today," I said.

"I waited up for you last night. Did you even come home?" she asked, following me into our bedroom.

"Yes," I said. I got some shorts and a top to run in from a drawer in the dresser. I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. She tried to open the door and found that it was locked.

"Rence, why did you lock the door?" she asked. "It's not like I haven't seen you naked before. I was hoping that we could talk."

"Sorry, I didn't know you wanted to come in here," I said. "I'll be changed in a moment."

As I left the bathroom, she was on me again.

"Rence, can we talk?" she asked. "There are some things that we really need to go over."

"No," I said. She looked at me crazily. I guess she misunderstood me.

"We really need to talk," she said. "I don't have a good feeling about the way that things are between us right now. We need to talk about this. Do you realize that we haven't had sex since...you haven't even kissed me since..."

"Since the day that you told me that you needed to screw someone different," I said calmly. I kept walking through the house. I grabbed a bottle of juice and my running shoes. I stopped on the couch and put my shoes on.

"So when can we talk about this," she asked. "How about when you get back from your run?"

"I don't need to think about anything unpleasant during my run," I said.

"Rence, we have to talk about this," she said.

"Why is it that whenever a woman starts in with that we have to talk bullshit, the world stops?" I snapped. "What women really mean when they say we have to talk is I have something I want to talk about whether you want to or not." I hadn't raised my voice but Amanda was not used to me talking to her that way.

"Do you know where we went wrong?" I asked. She just shook her head. "Last week when you dropped your big revelation on me; you started out talking about all the things that WE were going to do and the places that WE were going to see. Then you segued into what YOU needed. Well YOU got what YOU wanted so leave ME the fuck alone." My tone was pure acid and it left her with tears threatening to fall, but for the first time I didn't care. I stood up and walked past her. I left without saying good bye or kiss my ass or anything.

I got into my car and drove to the park. I put all of my problems out of my head and just ran, I didn't think about anything, I just ran.

When I finished the run, I was drained but I felt good at the same time. I had run a bit faster than normal so I knew I'd be sore the next day but it felt good. It felt great to be in control of at least one aspect of my life when I'd lost control over so many others. At least there in the park I was the master of both my mood and my fate. I didn't need to tip toe around anyone and I could just relax and be myself.

I drove home and found Amanda sitting on the porch waiting for me. As I got out of the car, she came towards me. "It really is a beautiful car," she said. "Do you think that we could go for a ride in it?"

"What do you want Amanda?" I asked. "I'm tired from my run, I'm hungry and I don't know what I want to eat. So just say whatever you want to say and be done with it."

"Rence, what do you mean, be done with it?" she asked. "I get that you're angry with me, but I don't know why? We've been married for over twenty years. We have children together. We're going to be together forever. You make it seem like this is the last conversations we're ever going to have. What do you mean be done with it? Do you want me to make you something to eat? Is that it? I'd have made dinner only I didn't know what you wanted. And I had the idea that maybe we could go for a drive in the new car and maybe talk about this."

"Maybe we should drive to somewhere and eat and then talk on the way back?" she said. "Would that be better?"

"Amanda, just say what you want to say and get it over with. I can see that I'm not going to have any peace until you do so go ahead," I snapped.

"Rence, I'd rather for us to do this calmly and while we're relaxed," she said. "You act like you don't want to take me for a ride."

"I don't," I snapped. "I just want to have your fucking talk and move on."

"Why don't you want to go for a ride," she asked. "We've had lots of arguments over the past twenty or so years. Even if we only argued once a month or so that's around two hundred and forty arguments," she said. "And we've always been able to talk through our differences. The only thing that mattered was that we were together in the end. Besides, I want to see what it's like to ride in that car. We've never had a car like that. It sounds so rough and so fast."

"You probably just want to try out the back seat with one of your boyfriends," I snapped, before I got control of my mouth. "Well it's not going to happen. You needed something for you, and you got it. You got to have your little fuck party in our home. I needed something for me, so I got it. This is MY car not ours."

She winced at my words. "Rence, I don't want to drive YOUR car, I just thought you'd take me for a ride in it," she said.

"Look Amanda, I didn't participate in your little fuck party, so you don't get to participate in my car," I said. It sounded childish even as I said it.

"Rence, you told me I could go ahead and experiment. I thought you understood why I needed it," she said.

"I was lying, just like you were," I snapped.

"I didn't lie," she said. "It just happened sooner than I thought it would. I just wanted to get it out of the way so we could get back to normal. You wouldn't sleep with me and you haven't even kissed me. When did I lie and what do you mean that you lied too?"

"I lied when I said go ahead and do it. I was testing you. I figured that my Mandy wouldn't do something like that. And you lied when you took our marriage vows. Are we done?" I asked.

"But Rence, I know now that it was a mistake. I should never have done it," she said.

"Ray Charles can see that," I said. "But it's a mistake that you'll have to live with."

"And that's why you've been calling me Amanda," she said. "I guess I won't be your Mandy or Panda until we get over this, huh?" I just looked at her.

"So how long do you figure that's going to take?" she asked. "A week or so until you get your ass off of your shoulders, and then we can go back to normal. I'm sorry Rence, but I learned a whole lot of things that I should already have known. I also learned that Marge was lying to me all along."

"Great," I said. "Are we done?"

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a question," she said. "How much did your new car cost and how are you paying for it? How did you structure the loan? How many months will you be paying for it?"

"It's none of your business," I snapped. "But I'll tell you anyway, I put twenty down on it which left me 18 to finance and my monthly payments are going to be three seventy five a month until I retire. My car will be paid off by the time I retire and my next bonus or two will put back the down payment. But I'm not going to Bolivia in December."

"But Rence, of all the trips we planned for this year that was the one I wanted to go on the most," she whined. "Can't we cancel one of the other trips?"

"Amanda, you aren't listening to me," I told her. "I'm not going to Bolivia. You're still going."

"Rence, why would I go without you?" she asked me stupidly. "I thought that all of the things we wanted to do were for us. Some of the trips were places you wanted to see, others were things I wanted to see. The most important part of the idea was for us to be able to see the world together after our kids were grown and on their own. Remember, we're going to watch sunsets all over the world and have lots of things to tell our grandkids about."

"I thought that you were going to only try one guy," I snapped. "And I really wasn't okay with that. I thought that I was part of a couple. I thought that you were supposed to be...what they call your spouse...my better half. Instead you turned out to be my slutty half. Amanda, what I'm getting at is that you can do whatever you want to do from now on, I don't care anymore. You do what you want, I'll do the same."

"Rence, that's not what I want," she said crying. "I never wanted that. That is not what..."

"Amanda," I interrupted. "Your turn is over. You asked for what you wanted and I gave it to you. It's my turn now and this is what I want."

"So we're not going to travel together?" She asked. "We're not going to grow old together and take care of our grandkids. We're not going to retire together? This is bullshit."

"Amanda, we're going to do all of that," I smiled. "We're probably still going to retire at around the same time. And we're probably going to have grandkids. We're probably even going to travel to a lot of places. We're just going to do it separately."

The damn burst then and she started crying. "Rence this isn't how things are supposed to end up. You make it sound like we're getting a divorce," she said.

"Unfortunately, if we do that neither of us would have enough money to do any of the things we want to do," I said. "Both of the lawyers I spoke to agree that most of our money would be tied up in legal fees and court costs until neither one of us had enough money to do anything."

She looked at me like she was in shock. "Rence, you spoke to a lawyer about a divorce?" she asked.

I just nodded. "Since the courts tend to side with the women, if you filed both of the guys I spoke to seemed to believe that we could get one. If I file, it will stay tied up in court for years and we'll both end up broke."

"I've ruined us," she gasped. "Catch me," she said as she passed out from shock. I didn't even try. I let her fall flat on the floor. I did take her pulse and made sure she was breathing okay then I left her on the floor and went to get something to eat.

* * * * * *

Amanda

When I woke up, I was on the floor and my side hurt. I had no idea of how I'd gotten there. Then slowly it came back to me. I remembered that my husband and I had been having a conversation and I hadn't gotten to tell him any of the things I wanted to. This hadn't gone anywhere near the way it was supposed to.

I wanted to tell him that I'd been a fool. I wanted to tell him all the things that I'd learned. I now knew that I wasn't the slut type. For me, in order for sex to work, there needed to be some kind of feelings involved. I guess I needed to love the person and Lawrence is the only man I love. After all of these years that we've been together, his dick is like the key to my pussy's lock. It just fits perfectly and we know it works. The bastard has gotten me pregnant twice.

Paul just did nothing for me and Darrell, the poor man; it felt more like he raped me than anything else. My vagina was bruised and sore for a couple of days. He was very vigorous but there was no love there. He didn't know who I was and at the time I didn't know who he was. There was no foreplay and we weren't interested in pleasing each other. It was awful.

It also isn't the way I like to have sex. I like sex to be slower and filled with a lot of caressing and kissing. It's supposed to be called making love not racing for an orgasm. What we did reminds me of twenty year olds hiding on the side of a house or in an alley trying to get off quickly before someone catches them and tells their parents.

I also realized later that I'd been led down a path of lies by my supposed best friend. Marge's husband had been cheating on her for years. Even now, he was having sex with two or three other women that Marge knew of, including a college student, his secretary and even the evil old woman who lived down the street from her. Marge's husband Bryan fucked every woman he came across except for Marge. So for the past three months, she'd been screwing around on him too. She'd made up that story to get me to do it with her. At first, it was random guys that she met online or in bars, but once she met Darrell she'd fallen hard.

The problem is that A) Darrell is twenty seven years old and black, while Marge is forty seven years old and not even very tan. B) Marge is very married and Darrell is single and very shy. Except for sex, they have nothing in common. And finally C) Ever since three days ago when Rence caught us, Darrell won't even accept Marge's phone calls.

I understand that Marge's marriage is in the trash bin, but mine wasn't. When I explained to her that even after twenty years, Rence and I still had sex at least three times a week every week and we still fell on each other like teenagers, she looked at me stupidly.

"Then why the hell would you risk something like that for cheap sex with strangers?" she asked me.

"Because you were the one who told me that what you were doing was so much better than boring married sex," I snapped. "How the fuck was I supposed to know?"

"Amanda, most single people are miserable," she said. "They want to meet someone and they hope and dream of finding what you already have. Do you know how lonely it is going home alone night after night? Do you know how humiliating it is finding someone who just wants to fuck you and then leaves you? You have it all, girl. Don't let that get away."

"Had," I said quietly. "Lawrence doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

"If he loves you as much as you say he does maybe you can get him back," she said. "Just don't give up. Keep fighting for as long as you have to. Besides you only did it once. Tell him it'll never happen again."

"He doesn't even talk to me anymore," I said. "We live in the same house that we've always lived in. Only it's like we're strangers. We don't even sleep together anymore. We don't even talk. He was talking about filing for a divorce."

"Don't give it to him," she warned. "Tell any lawyer you get that he gave you permission even though he didn't mean it. If that dickhead I'm married to can get a younger woman, you know your husband can. I'm going to help you get him back, since I helped to fuck things up. But I'm going to need something from you too."