Just Too Happily Married

An Introduction and a prescription:

There may be a few silly remarks that could be interpreted as being a smidgen political. Don't take any of that seriously. Second, every state has its own domestic intricacies, and Maryland, being old and staid, has a lot of baggage. Third, I do like to talk. Maybe it's because no one lets me talk at home. If you think I ramble, well I ramble, but then in our protagonist's case his 'asides' might help us get a better picture of the man he was and becomes.

This is a work of fiction, but there are also a few nuggets of historical fact here too. I'm suggesting you read it all before you come to a conclusion. I hope you enjoy it; it's here purely for your entertainment. Well not absolutely. Sure I like to write, and I write for myself, but I enjoy sharing too.

And oh yes to FD45; Do I repeat myself? Yes I repeat myself. I am old. I am surrounded by women.

Jedd Clampett

So here goes:

*****

"Just Too Happily Married"

Here I go. I'm Ryan Greene.

Before anyone gets too deep into this story I have to warn you there's nothing new here. I mean how many times have we come across the tale of the loyal, hardworking, middle-aged, blindly loving, stupid slob who finds out his one true love, his life's mate, his soul-mate has betrayed him? Yeah for most people this is just another one of those sad clichéd old stories about someone else's misfortune. Anyway, that's how I always felt...but then it happened to me.

~~v~~

Well I guess I should have known something was wrong. We were just too happily married; things were going just too well. My wife had always been attentive, and I always tried to reciprocate. I was as loyal as an old dog, and I believed she was the same. Of course we've had our arguments; see a married couple that doesn't fight occasionally, and together we can see a couple with no passion.

All married couples fight and argue. If we hadn't I would have thought she didn't care, but the fights always ended with some kind of mutual rapprochement. One or the other would blow up. We'd argue, get it out of our systems, and then make up. I guess some time ago; thinking back it had been maybe six months our familial life sort of evolved in a different direction.

What do we have to say about this? Well it goes back to a phone call I got back in 2013. I remember it well. It was Friday, September 6th a little after 2:00 p.m. the first week after Labor Day.

Labor Day had been pretty good. We'd invited the family over; her brother, his wife and kids and my two sisters with their families. We had the customary barbecue. The ladies drank their wine; we men quaffed down the beer, and the kids all swam in the pool.

The rest of the week was the usual 'back to work' bullshit. The 'Mrs.', that's Barbara, went back to her job, and me, I went back to mine.

Now Barbara was thirty-seven, she stood close to 5'6", and weighed in somewhere around 130lbs. With brown hair and blue eyes; she was everyone's typical 'over the top' good looker who spent entirely too much time and money on clothes and other frivolities. She used to say what she did for a living required it, but the regular dental bleaching's, body massages, skin defoliants, or whatever that's called, plus the twice monthly trips to the hair salon always seemed like a lot to me.

Barbara earned a four year degree in business at a local college, got a job, and had worked her way up to be assistant supervisor in public relations at a mid-sized consulting firm outside DC.

Me, I was thirty-eight, I stood just under six feet and weighed around 190lbs. I have brown hair and brown eyes. Barbara and I met in college, fell in love, and blah, blah, blah. I'm assistant head of accounting at a good sized corporation that specializes in lobbying for various charitable groups.

We lived in a nice house in a mid-sized city about thirty miles northeast of DC. We'd squeezed out two kids along the way. Derek, the older was a high school senior and Elaine the younger a junior. They both attended the same school, but Elaine wanted a car of her own since she just got her license. I was going to see she got it too.

~~v~~

Now on to the real bull! I put in my week. Barbara put in hers. Like I said around 2:00 p.m. Friday I got a phone call. It was from one of Barbara's assistants. I hadn't known but one of her colleagues was retiring, and they were having an afternoon get together for him at one of the watering holes near their offices. The assistant informed me of the activity and she added that I needed to be there.

I almost never went to any of the things Barbara's people put together, and I guess over the years she'd decided to stop inviting me. But this one didn't fit. The retiree was Hank Chenowith. He'd been a long-time friend, and until he fell and broke a hip a few years back we used to regularly do some fishing together down on the Potomac. Don't get confused; he's an older man, the hip had been an indication of more serious problems, and since then he'd cut back on nearly all physical activity. He and I were real friends. I'd been to his house. I would have gone to his retirement.

The assistant told me the gathering was at a place called the Moor; they'd reserved a private section, and that everybody, employees and their spouses were invited. She also added that gifts were welcome. I knew I had to go. I asked her if my wife had told her to call me. The assistant told me no; but that she and her associates felt they needed to let me know. Curious, I asked her why. She told me I just needed to be there.

Her comment really did stir my curiosity. I'm not a suspicious person. I loved my wife dearly, and I'd do anything for her, but for her not to tell me about a get together for Mr. Chenowith didn't make sense. Had she forgotten? I didn't think she'd forget something like that, and why would a low level assistant feel the need, on her own volition, to call and tell me? Something didn't add up. I needed to go.

School let out at 2:30, and by the time I had cleared my desk and packed up I was able to text my kids. I texted both, but figured only Elaine would get back, what her wanting to butter up her old man about the car and all.

I left the office and started for the Moor; with Friday traffic it was about forty minutes away. On the way I got a text from Elaine. I texted back and asked if she'd heard anything from mom. Elaine got back and noted mom had left a note that she'd be working late clearing up something that needed to be done before the weekend and that we were on our own for dinner. She said she'd be home around eight.

I texted Elaine back and told her to help herself to whatever she wanted, but to hang around home in case I needed her. She texted back to belly-ache about having to stay home. I responded with one word - car. She texted back that she'd stay by the phone. I thought, 'that's my girl.'

Now Barbara's admonition about dinner, coupled with having to 'work', plus the retirement thing really tweaked my curiosity. I needed to get to the Moor!

I pulled in the lot; I suspected the place was usually crowded late Friday afternoons anyway. I wasn't disappointed. I had to park some distance away. That gave me a chance to scout out the lot. I looked around but didn't see my wife's car; so I guessed she was working late. I popped open my cell and called her work. I got their standard voice recording telling how the office was closed; it would reopen Monday, but to leave a message.

As I walked toward the front door I was thinking how things kept getting more interesting. I went on in, found an employee and asked where the retirement party was. He led me to the room.

I stepped inside and saw nearly everyone from her office was there, the place was pretty crowded. I didn't see my wife anywhere. I thought she could have been there if she'd ridden with someone, but I didn't see her, not a trace. I knew several of my wife's coworkers so I gravitated toward them whenever I saw one.

I asked each one if they'd seen my wife. I got an array of responses. Some said she had to miss because she had to get home. One even told me she'd said she and I had plans. I caught up with the young lady who'd called me, and asked her if she'd seen my wife. She told me no, and that she didn't expect her. I asked her then why did she bother to call me. She told me she didn't want to get in trouble, but that I should ask around to see if Mr. Woodland, a Mr. Matthew, Matt, Woodland was there or not.

The young woman looked scared. I thanked her and walked away. I didn't want to let on, but with her comment my bowels just turned to ice, a rock was forming in the bottom of my stomach. A few years earlier I'd had a similar feeling; my son was on a middle school field trip and the school bus had run in a ditch. Several kids had been hurt, but no one knew which kids for quite a while. It's a scary feeling not knowing...I felt that way now. I mean had they ridden together and had an accident?

I held on. I found Hank Chenowith. I gave him my best, and promised to get him a gift. He asked for a new rod and reel. I told him I'd make a note of it, and made him a promise we'd get back together soon. He smiled one of those; yeah we will, but not here, not in this lifetime smiles. That's when I knew he was in pretty bad shape. I shook his hand, held it tight, made an apology for my wife and left.

It was funny, odd funny not laughably funny, the look Hank gave me. He knew something, and it wasn't about his health. I had to get home.

~~v~~

I got home a little after 7:00 p.m. Derek had gone out, but Elaine was home. I asked her, "Have you heard anything from your mom?"

Elaine was fiddling with her cell phone. She looked up, "Huh?"

I repeated, "Have you heard from your mother?"

"No," she answered without looking up, "not since before."

Now I'm not an expert on the new technology stuff. I could text. I had GPS systems installed in our cars. I was pretty savvy when it came to computers, but the finer points of texting was still a little ahead of me, and it just occurred to me I needed to catch up, "Elaine you're good with the phone stuff right?"

She glanced over without actually looking up. I saw the suspicion, "Why do you want to know?"

"Nothing important," I answered, "just wondering could someone retrieve text messages from another person's phone?"

She stopped what she was doing, "You don't trust me?"

"No," I replied, "I trust you. I was just wondering; what if...oh say I wanted to see what was on somebody else's phone."

"Whose phone," she asked?

"Not yours."

"Not Derek's. He doesn't do anything anyway."

I was putting Barbara out of my mind, I chuckled, "You do?"

"No of course not. I'm not stupid. I read about what can happen."

I went back to my original question, "Could I?"

"Sure, it's easy."

"You know how?"

Elaine put her phone down, "Who do you want to check up on? Mom?"

I smiled, "Maybe."

Elaine grinned, "Sure I can show you. You can even download what she texts on your own phone."

"Elaine," I said, "I want you to show me, but you can't tell your mother."

"That's sneaky dad."

I laughed, "It is isn't it. You won't tell anyone?"

"You know me dad. I'm your girl, but I'll need to get mom's phone for a couple minutes, that is if you don't have any of her phone information yourself."

I sat down and turned on the TV, "I'll get her phone for you. You can set it up tonight, and show me tomorrow while we close the pool up."

"Dad!"

I grinned, "We get the pool done early we can go look at cars."

She smiled, "I'm good with that," she got up and started for her room, but she turned around real fast, "I love you dad."

I smiled back, "I know honey."

She tooled on up the steps.

I slipped into the kitchen, whipped up a ham sandwich and grabbed a soda. I plopped a few chips on a paper plate and went to the living room to watch TV and wait for Barbara.

I sat and watched nothing; there was nothing to watch. I thought about Barbara, our life together, why she might want to lie about something as stupid as a retirement get together. I wondered who Matthew Woodland was. I wondered why my wife had made up a story about working late. Was there something wrong? I didn't know, and frankly I didn't think I needed to find out. Whatever it was I was sure there was a perfectly plausible explanation.

I went on and started thinking about the rubbing I'd heard the other night when Barbara turned her wheels; she probably hit something. I'd need to look under that right wheel well.

~~v~~

Barbara got home a little after 9:00. I saw her car pull in the driveway, heard her get out, and come in. The way our house is arranged one can come in and go straight upstairs or step to the right and walk in the living room. Barbara came in and started straight for the stairs. She saw me, sighed and asserted, "I'm tired and feel grimy. I want to rinse off. Be back down in a minute."

I smiled, "Busy day?"

She started up the steps, stopped, nodded and said, "Uh huh."

I asked, "Get all your work done?"

She took another step, stopped, smiled faintly, held up a hand, wriggled her fingers, and said, "Down to the bone."

I said, "Why don't you soak in the tub a while, slip into something comfy, and just go to bed. I've got a ton of things to do before I come up. We can get together in the morning."

She looked relieved, but then I would too if I'd worked as long as she had. She replied, "Think I'll do that. She started on up the steps. Somewhere near the top step I heard her phone go blink, blink; her signal a text message was coming in. I think she stopped a minute but I couldn't tell. I went back to the TV.

I guess sometime around 11:00 I fell asleep on the sofa. I got up, went upstairs. Barbara was asleep. I quietly retrieved her phone and slipped down the hall. I knocked on Elaine's door.

From inside Elaine yelled, "Who is it. I'm not dressed."

I whispered back, "It's your dad. I have your mom's phone."

Elaine came to the door, opened it, and let me in. All she had on was a bra and panties, but I was dad and didn't count. As we walked back to her computer desk she asked me, "You think mom's spending money again don't you?"

I was behind her so I couldn't see her face, but I heard the concern. Barb's run up some debt in the past. I reassured her, "I don't think so. I just want to be able to keep track of things," I know that didn't sound very convincing, but Barb had a couple shopping cards that...well...some of her friends.

I was surprised. With Barbara's phone and mine in hand she had everything done in less than a minute.

She said, "Sorry dad, but the way I've set ii up, until you get to your laptop you'll have to use mine."

I didn't give it a thought, "Sure babe. See you in the morning."

As I left her room she reminded me, "Don't forget, cars tomorrow."

I said, "I won't forget."

I went to our bedroom, Barb's and mine, slipped out of my clothes, changed boxers, and crawled into bed. Barb was already asleep. I lay there on my back with my hands resting behind my head and thought. Had Barb been doing something? Why hadn't she told me about Hank's retirement? Why had she made up some story about work? Who was Matt Woodland? Oh wait; Sunday was Rally Day at our church, and she was head of the Worship Committee. I bet she was typing up and running off bulletins. That would explain things.

Just the same I tried to go back and retrace what we'd been doing over the summer. Isn't that what men like me always do?

I couldn't think of anything. Barb was just as warm and considerate as ever. Our nighttime trysts had been just as pleasant and comforting. She hadn't been more or less critical. I hadn't felt neglected. Sure she'd worked extra late a couple nights. She'd gone away on a weekend seminar in August; that was a little unusual. My birthday had been in July and we'd had a little party. She'd spent the night at her mom's once; mom is a widow, so that was normal. She'd taken a couple days off from work here and there to get a few things done around the house. I honestly hadn't seen much accomplished, but that didn't mean anything. There'd been a few times I'd called her at work and she'd been unavailable, but she always had a perfectly reasonable explanation when I asked. No there wasn't anything; no reason whatsoever to doubt her. She was my girl, and I loved her. Eighteen years married and two before that with nary a doubt.

Still, who was this Matt Woodland, and why had the young assistant mentioned him? I decided not to bother Barb. She was a good mom, a great wife, a saint to her mother, and she worked hard; and me asking questions would sound tacky and tedious. I didn't want her to think I didn't trust her, because I did. I loved my wife. I believed in her. She would never do anything. I rolled over to go to sleep. But sleep just wouldn't come.

~~v~~

Saturday morning rolled around Elaine and I closed up the pool and then we went off to look at used cars. I already had a couple picked out. We shot over to a Cadillac place; they had a pretty good looking Kia on their used car lot. Excuse me, on their 'prior owned' lot. Elaine and I checked it out. It ran nice, had a cool five speed transmission, and only a little over thirty thousand miles on the odometer. I talked to the guy, an older gentleman, a real nice fellow.

I told him my daughter and I were going to step away and grab something to eat, talk things over, and get back in an hour or so. The very nice older gentleman told me this particular car probably wouldn't be here when we got back. I asked him why, and he told me his boss had sort of set it aside for his daughter. They'd probably pick it up while we were gone.

Well I listened to him, thanked him and told him that his boss should get it for his daughter since we probably wouldn't be back. The nice gentleman told me he could save it if I put a little something down on it. I thanked him, but said no.

A few minutes later Elaine and I were driving over to a Toyota place when Elaine asked me, "Why didn't you buy the Kia dad. It's going to be gone now. His boss is getting it for his daughter; it's got to be a great deal."

I gave her a good fatherly smile, "Sweetheart that was just an old fart trying to give us the bum's rush. That car will be there next week. He was lying."

"That nice old man," she said?

"Yes," I said, "that nice old man."

Elaine sat back, "Gee it's getting so you can't trust anybody anymore."

That's when I gave her one my all-time best dad smiles, "Don't worry. You'll always have me and your mom. We'll never steer you wrong. Besides I've got my eye on a Toyota."

We got the Toyota; it had a little more mileage and a scratch on the dashboard. The guy gave us a little off for the scratch and we took it. I called my insurance agent, gave him the information, and he put a binder on the car. I followed Elaine home while she drove her new car.

We got back and showed it off to Barb and Derek. Derek was a little miffed because it was newer than his Jeep; he also knew she got the more reliable vehicle. He complained a little, but not too much. I knew why too; his Jeep had a spacious back area. Of course I never brought anything like that up.

Barb saw the car and was delighted. We'd already talked. I'd mentioned the two cars, and Barb, based on my comments, had already said she preferred the Toyota. Barb's a pretty smart cookie.

A little later Elaine borrowed my cell phone. She said she wanted to do some sort of silly thing to it. She winked at me. I knew she was going to do something that would make it possible to see Barb's texts. I figured I'd never fool with them, but it gave Elaine something to do.

Barb had fixed a light meal; some seafood salad and a few curly fries. We all ate in silence. Derek had plans. Elaine spent most of her time texting. Near the end of dinner Barb got a text and had to step away for a second. After we ate I went out to make sure the pool was finished. A little later Barb and I watched some TV. She told me what she'd done all day; nothing much really, a little laundry, she'd ironed a few things for Elaine. Elaine wanted to go out and show off her car. I warned her to be careful and get back before dark. She said she would. She did too.