"The Worm Doth Turn"

They had a radio or a cd set up playing in the background. I asked Allyson, "You have any favorite tunes or singers?"

She replied, "We like Barry Manilow."

I said, "Really?'

Allyson said, "Well Dell mostly. I lean more toward 'Hard Rock'."

Myra asked, "Oh like AC-DC?"

Wendell interrupted, "Them and would you believe 'Guns and Roses'?"

Myra said, "Wow, 'Heavy Metal'."

I had to chime in, "Anybody like Miranda Lambert?"

Wendell said, "Who?"

I said, "Miranda Lambert; she's a country music star. You know 'I cut my hair with some rusty kitchen scissors...'"

Wendell cut me off, "Oh you mean 'Red Neck' stuff."

Myra didn't like that very much, "It's not 'Red Neck' to like country. I like Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood."

I spotted her but in a different way, "Yeah like Blake Sheldon, 'Chew tobacco, chew tobacco, chew tobacco - spit'!"

Allyson laughed, "I heard that!"

Wendell said, "Yeah I guess I have too."

I glanced over at Myra. This was something 'we' had. I could afford to be generous, "I've listened to some Manilow. I like Sinatra and Dean Martin too."

Wendell said, "Well everybody loves 'Old Blue Eyes'."

I'd made my point. There were things that were just Myra and Steve. I think she got it. I could tell Wendell did; he tried to produce a comeback. It was becoming kind of like a pissing contest.

Wendell said, "You're a teacher aren't you?"

I said, "Oh yeah."

He had something in mind, and I think I knew what it was. He added, "You teach the little ones, elementary school right?"

I said, "Right again."

He threw his punch, "Doesn't that get a little boring sometimes?"

I knew this was coming, and I knew my wife. I his parried his shot and counter punched, "Look out there," I pointed to the pool, "What do you see?"

He replied, "The kids why?"

Time for the 'knock out', "That's not what I see. I see our tomorrows. More importantly I see God. Have you ever listened to the beautiful sounds of a happy child? Nothing's more pure, more perfect than the innocent voice of a child. That's a sacred thing. There's a divinity there I can't explain. That can never be boring."

He fell right in, "Oh I see what you mean. I get it about God. I'm not into the religion thing though."

Time to finish him off, "I agree there's God and there's religion. But I'm not like Arouet. I'm more..."

He interrupted, "Who?"

"Oh," I said, "Voltaire. I mean Voltaire. He Latinized his name from the original French. His ideas about God I don't like; you know the old 'unmoved first mover', 'the blind watchmaker'. I think God is active in our lives. He gets involved."

Wendell held up his hands, "Let's not go there."

This was Myra's thing. She went there, "We're believers, Steve and I. We believe that God is, you know, perfect, and because of that he can't touch us. We'd soil him. So he sent us an intercessor, that's Jesus. He's done it in other ways at different times. The ancient Celts had a God named Lugus, the Egyptians had Osiris.

I put my hand on Myra's arm, "Let's change the subject."

Allyson chimed in, "I believe the way you two do too. I think God loves us and wants us to do right."

I said, "Yeah, like in the Ten Commandments." I figured if that didn't get some attention nothing would.

Allyson saw it too, "Time for burgers. You guys start the grill. Myra come with me. We'll get the stuff," She called out to the pool, "Time to get out kids. Time to eat!"

The rest of the day was spent yammering, and bullshitting, and even a little swimming. Wendell was an excellent swimmer. I was good as long as my feet could touch. Around 6:00 we packed up the kids and went home. I thought it had been a pretty good day.

Myra and the boys dozed all the way home. I thought about what I might have accomplished. Wendell was still Mr. Charm and Charisma, but I liked to think Myra saw some of the special connections she and I had, connections she was putting in some serious jeopardy. 'Oh well,' I thought, 'time would tell.'

~~v~~

The next couple weeks flew by. Myra was home on time or early every day. She missed both Friday 'Happy Hours'. I didn't mention it, and neither did she.

I got Allyson on the phone again one day the following week while I was at work, and asked her to just make a call to my house once or twice. I said to make it in the evenings, and I'd let Myra get the phone. She was to ask for me, and if Myra asked why I said just tell her something like, 'oh no special reason'. She did, and the reaction from Myra was anticipated; I got the 'third degree'. I also made certain I found reasons to leave the house a couple times in the evenings. Myra pretended not to care, but I knew better. I know my Myra.

The Saturday after our 'swim fest' I took our boys for a ride in Myra's car. There was no special reason other than one of those periodic safety checks I believe all married men make when their wife does any driving. We went to the mall. I bought a Latte; each of my guys got a soda and a soft pretzel. When I got back I saw Myra had used my car for something, and she'd pulled in on too much of an angle. I moved the cars around on the driveway so we'd both be able to get out. When I got in my car I noticed the 'Sunday panties' I'd left on the seat had disappeared. I found the bag, then the panties in the trash. Myra never brought anything up, but to my delight I was treated to some pretty creative sex the next few nights.

I had a GPS in my car, as did she. They were primitive by more contemporary standards, but I think she checked mine once or twice. I know she'd been watching me. Good for her.

~~v~~

As July drew to a close I pulled the last rabbit out of my hat. The boys' day camp was over. Myra's mom and dad were watching them, and they were already bored.

I called Allyson. We decided that we would take a short vacation; just the six of us. Myra and Wendell had to work. Myra was a new employee and had no vacation time. I could take the rest of the summer off, and Allyson didn't work. The plan was to take the four kids with just Allyson and me, on a short vacation.

There was a small 'lake resort' about forty miles away. We could rent two apartments; one for Allyson and her two, one for me and mine. We could go canoeing and swimming. We could rent a couple sunfish and sail around a little. It could be fun; plus we'd be leaving the adulterers home to stew in their own juices.

I mentioned it to Myra. She didn't like it. She didn't like it all. She thought I should work; she said we might need the money. I assured her that wouldn't be a problem. I explained a new elementary was opening in the county where I worked, and my name was at the top of the list for administrative assistant. With that, I explained, we'd be in fat city. She wasn't appeased. She threw up reason after reason. Myra was scared.

Better even, Myra had given me the same lines I'd given her not more than eight months before; what if something came up, what if there was an emergency. I told her she didn't have any confidence. She should let me handle it. Don't be so insecure.

I was giving her the same responses she'd given me; not to be so scared, things always worked out. Of course, for her it wasn't the money, it was something else.

When Allyson called she said she got the same response. Wendell needed her and the kids at home; he'd get lonely. She told him he could pretend he was single. Maybe he could find a date while she was with me. She said that really set him off. He got mad, but she didn't back down. It was kind of cool; the old insecurity shoe looked like it was being slipped on the other foot.

We planned on being gone four days. Allyson loaded her Excalibur, I loaded my Explorer, and we took off. We stopped halfway there and had lunch; the kids flip flopped on their rides, I got Maureen and Jessie while Allyson got Mike and Jeremy. Mike called Myra while we were at lunch and talked nonstop about how much fun Miss Allyson was.

~~v~~

Now I wasn't stupid; leaving Wendell and Myra alone for four days could be chancy. I planned for that. Of course I had to face it; they'd been adulterers. I knew it, Allyson knew it, and Myra and Wendell most certainly knew we knew. But I was pretty sure whatever they'd been doing had long since stopped; still 'leave nothing to chance' was my motto.

I'd contacted a lawyer, and he'd given me the 'low down' on divorce. He even provided me with a packet. I made a copy for Allyson, and put the other on top of my bureau. I knew my Myra; a packet like that would be just too enticing to leave alone. She'd see it, open it, read it, and then the ball would be in her court.

So Allyson and I took off for vacation with the kids. Four days was the plan; it never happened. The morning of the second day I was stepping out on my third floor veranda when I saw Myra's Suburban pull up. She had a passenger. Yeah it was Wendell. I watched as they got out and went for the office. Five minutes later I got the knock on the door. It was Myra. About the same time I heard someone hammering on Allyson's door downstairs.

I opened my door and there she was. She said, "You have to come home."

I played dumb. I asked, "Why isn't everything all right? No one in the family or...?" I never got to finish.

She said, "You know why," she held up the lawyer's packet, "this has got to stop."

I asked, "What's got to stop?"

She said, "You know. We've got to get home. We need to talk."

I took the packet, leafed through it, closed it up, looked at her and asked, "What's it going to be Myra?"

I could tell she'd been crying; she said again, "Please, just let's go home."

I got my kids while Allyson got hers. I felt lucky. Myra had driven so she had to drive back. Wendell piled in with his wife and his kids. Mike and Jeremy wanted to ride back with their mother.

Myra and I and the boys all got home; her mom and dad were waiting at our house to take care of the kids. Once we got everything put away Myra insisted she and I should go someplace and have a long talk. We climbed in my Explorer and went to the nearby Hampton Inn and got a room.

Once inside Myra burst into tears. Sobbing and crying she pleaded and begged, "Oh Steve I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me. I love you so. I just couldn't bear it, blah, blah, blah."

I figured one day we'd have this conversation. I'd planned what I wanted to say, but sitting there on the bed, her crying and pleading, eyes all red and swollen, and tears rolling down her cheeks all I could think of was that beautiful innocent girl I remembered. But...

Once she settled down I asked her, "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

She started crying again. I waited. Once she slowed down I said, "Well."

She sniffed and wheezed, "I never thought, oh my Steve, it just didn't, I never thought. It was so..."

I asked, "It was so what?"

She pleaded, "Please don't do this, I'm begging you. I love you. I love our life together. I made a mistake, a big stupid mistake, the biggest mistake of my life. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I promise..."

I said, "Could you tell me one thing?"

She said, "Anything. I'll say, I'll do anything. I'll be your slave. I'll quit my job. I'll stay home. I'll..."

I interrupted her, "Tell me."

She'd recovered some, "What?"

I asked, "Why?"

She started crying again. I handed her a Kleenex and said, "Any time." Man I was doing good.

Finally she had herself together. When she started she went a mile a minute; it was hard to keep up, "I don't know really. I mean he was there. Things were so different. It was all so new. I mean the job. I wanted so hard to...to please. We did the Friday thing. He was so, how do I say it, he was so confident, so in control, so sophisticated, so commanding. We talked about our jobs. He knows so much. He's a genius at law. He noticed me. He took me under his wing. He was so flattering. He praised my work. He said I was so poised. He told me how beautiful I was and how practical I was. He said I had acumen. He thought I should be a lawyer like him. He said he'd help me with my career. He said I shouldn't waste my talents...that he could open doors for me. I felt like a young girl. He was my teacher."

I interrupted, "He was better than me."

She stopped talking; she looked surprised, nonplussed, bewildered. She hiccoughed and sniffed. I think she just realized one of the things she'd done to me, "No, no. Not...no. Steve, oh no...Honey wait. No he wasn't."

Her eyes were as big as melons. She understood the ramifications of my question, "Steve no please not like that...he never...I mean you're the best...my only. Steve I never thought, not that..."

I interrupted her gibberish, "You two talked about me didn't you."

She was all aquiver. She kept squirming, sitting up and sitting down, "No! Yes, maybe. I don't know. I mean we both talked about our spouses. He talked about Allyson like she was some shrew, some cold hearted frigid thing. I'd never met her. I didn't know. I believed him. He sounded unhappy. I'd had a little too much to drink. I guess more than I should have. I wanted to comfort him."

I asked, "You're going to use alcohol as an excuse?"

She shook her head, "Oh no! I guess I mean I was vulnerable. He was so important around the office. He was so authoritative, but he sounded so sad when we were alone, when we were in the car."

"You talked about me. What did you say?" I could see the wheels turning. I knew she had, "Don't lie to me. I'll know if you do."

"Yes," she said, "we talked about your work, how you spent your day with children, that you didn't face the challenges..." she stopped, "Oh Steve he led me on. I wanted to please him. He was my boss. I agreed with everything he said. He never said anything bad, but he... He'd say something about you, but it was always indirect, or it was like an incomplete sentence and I filled in...the...blank."

I said then, "He subtly emasculated me. He denigrated me, and you let him."

She slumped, "Yes, I guess so. Oh Steve please forgive me. It was like I was under some spell."

I asked my wife, "What do you think would have happened if I hadn't caught on?"

She reached out to touch me, but I held her hands. She said, "But I caught on. I realized at the barbecue on the Fourth. I can't explain it. You were real; he was...like plastic. He liked to brag. He liked to talk about all the things he knew and the things he could do. I looked at you and then at him and I felt icky."

She was doing well, it was heartwarming, she said, "How can I can I explain it. He talked about all the things he had. I realized if someone else mentioned someone he knew them and he knew someone else more important. I thought the only way someone could drop more names than him was to drop a telephone book on the floor..."

I watched her, she paused and took a really deep breath, and then, "Honey...Steve...I realized. I mean you two were side by side. He was bragging and I thought...you never...I mean you bragged about me, about the kids, but you never...you know. You're so...you're...you. I saw you and him. You're modest. I saw...you're more manly. I was confused. I saw it; he was a phony; you were real.

She hiccoughed. I was afraid she was going to have a seizure. I'd seen her where she'd get so excited or upset she'd just lose control and get all quivery and shaky. She looked that way now. When it happened it wasn't for show; it was real. It wasn't that she had a disease; the doctor's said it was something called cataplexy, a mental thing where she'd like disappear for a few seconds, she was acting that way now, but she stumbled back.

She became a withering wave of disconnected sentences, "I got scared. I thought what if I lost you? I was mixed up. When I saw you two together it was like you opened my eyes. Oh Steve can't you see?"

She took another one of those deep breaths she'd been taking. I was afraid she might hyperventilate and pass out. That had happened before, she had the metabolism of a hummingbird, but she got it together again, "Steve I realized then, at that barbecue what I had, how much I loved you. You were with Allyson. She looked like she came off the cover of Maxim magazine. Compared to her I felt like a frump. I got so jealous. I wanted to go over there and yank you away. I wished now I had."

She leaped across the bed. She was a nervous wreck. She wrapped her arms around me, "Steve I'm sorry. I got so scared. I'm scared now. I need you. I need you so much! You've got to protect me. You can't send me away. Please don't...Oh no!"

She was jabbering again, I held her and I listened, she said, "I knew that very day you knew. Don't ask me how I knew, but I knew you'd seen it. You saw it right away, and I got so afraid. I thought what had I done. I stopped right that day. We hadn't done that much, in his office some only..."

I watched her, she'd paused and put her hands to her mouth, "Oh...oh, I didn't mean. I'm so stupid. I take that back! Please let me take that back. I realized you're my life. Steve..."

I gently pushed her away and looking down I put my hands to my forehead and said, "Myra..."

Myra grabbed my hands and pulled them away from my face and put them on hers, "Steve you're the only man I want. You're my hero..."

I took her in my arms again. I stroked her head, her short soft blond hair. I could smell her sweetness. I cupped the back of her head in the palm of my hand. I caressed her left ear with the thumb of my right hand. I was as scared as she was. I whispered in her ear, "I love you Myra. I love you more than my life. I'd be afraid to live another day without you, but there's a problem."

She leaned back, head cocked on an angle, "What," she looked confused, stunned, a deer in the headlights if there ever was one, she started in again, "Steve I'll do anything. I'll be the best wife. I'll be the best mom. Believe me. Whatever it is I can fix it, we'll fix it together. Together we can do anything!"

Still holding her I said, "It's not that easy. You see, you know what you've done..."

She cut me off, "Oh I know. It'll never happen again. I promise" I promise, promise, promise." She leaned in and started to rapid fire kiss my face and my lips. I let her.

I told her, "I don't know that. You see you've lost my trust."

She snuggled in against me. I let her do that too. I went on, "What if there's another Friday Happy Hour? What if there's another hot shot, another sophisticated, commanding, 'go to' type of guy? What if he's not married or if he's divorced and totally available? What if he's rich? What if he offers what I can't?"

She crushed her arms around my waist and pressed her face tightly against my chest, her lips and mouth were kissing the gap between my pectorals. She started brushing her face into the hair on my chest. She whimpered, "Oh no, it'll never happen, no, never again."

I thought, 'there's something special about a desperate woman', and Myra was certainly that. I said flatly, "Trust Myra, once it's lost...it's gone."

Her reply came more groan than answer, "Steve I'll bring it back. You'll see! I mean it. We're young. I'll prove myself. I'll prove myself every day."

I felt as desperate as her when I said, "I want to believe you. I do believe you...today...but..." I guess was being unnecessarily cruel, but I'd been through a lot of pain. I thought I'd done damn well; I'd been pretty stoic about the whole thing.

I was coming close to the end anyway. She was looking at me expectantly. I had to bring things together, wrap it up so to speak.

I took a deep breath and then I told her, "Myra we can't go back. The past is the past, it's dead. We can break it off now, a clean break, get a divorce, work out the finances, make arrangements for custody, alimony, child support, the usual crap, and we'll each go our separate ways..."