NEW STORY TITLE: THE MAGIC MOMENTS
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I sat, waiting.
I knew her well. I should after fourteen years of marriage. Her need to control every situation would prompt her to hurry home, do damage control, would overpower everything else. I idly wondered what kind of spin she would come up with.
It had to throw her for a loop, getting caught. She was always the clever one, scheming, planning, working every angle. I was the straightforward one.
If something was on my mind it usually came out of my mouth. Good or bad, I leaned towards immediate resolution.
She hated it. It irked her no end when her groundwork and all her carefully laid plans would go for nothing.
Don’t get me wrong, I usually let her have what she wants. Why? Because I’m a guy, and guys tend not to sweat a lot of stuff. If she wanted it, and if it didn’t break us financially or damage our relationship, she got it. It made her happy, and then she made me happy, then we were both happy. Happy happy happy.
It didn’t take her long to realize there was a line in my head that said when you crossed it things could get very bad. I heard her describe it to a friend once when she didn’t know I was around.
“I call it the ‘Magic Moment’, a point where he becomes angry enough that nothing matters. Not his friends, not his job, not me, nothing. When he hits that point, he could care less about what people think or whose feelings get hurt.”
“I’ll give you an example. He worked at his old company ten years. Got raises, good reviews, they loved him. Then management changed. They brought in an expert. After two weeks, the expert gave a suggestion they embraced. Everyone’s job got realigned. Bob really didn’t care, he had been there so long he knew just about everything. Then came the kicker. The expert pointed out that the employees were being paid about twenty five percent more than companies with corresponding positions in the area, so they were being cut to achieve ‘parity’. They told him his cut came to just under five thousand a year.”
“He laughed at them.”
“Let me get this clear” he said, “you want to cut all our pay because that’s would bring us down to the local average, right? What kind of effort do you expect from us afterwards? The same, or twenty five percent less? One of the reasons this company is so successful is because it pays top dollar for the best. You don’t just walk in here and fill out an application and start work. I had to go through four interviews, a physical, and psychological testing before I was hired. You have a very stringent attendance policy, and hardcore safety procedures. Now, why should anyone go through that to get hired, if you’re not paying any more than the place down the street, where you don’t have to work nearly as hard and get the same pay. In time, you won’t have parity, you’ll have mediocrity. Your old workers will quit, for better jobs or easier working conditions. Production will suffer, accidents will happen, morale will be shot.”
He paused for a breath. There were four people from corporate and the efficiency expert in the meeting. They were all bright red.
“The decision stands” said one of the corporate goons. “It will take effect in three months.”
He smiled. “All right. That should be more than enough time to find another job. Consider this my notice. The day before the cuts become effective will be my last day.”
“There was a general uproar. The plant manager assured corporate he wouldn’t quit, he was just venting. Imagine their surprise when he walked out the door three months later. They tried to get him to come back, blustering they would report to any prospective employers he had walked out and abandoned his job.”
“Already got a job.” was his reply. Nine months later most of the old employees had left, many coming to work for his new firm. They flew two corporate officers down to try and persuade him to return, offering him a nice raise. He laughed, wished them success, and left the restaurant.”
“Once he makes a decision, no one in the world can change his mind. And while it may seem like a snap decision at the time, he’s usually thought about it long and hard. And it doesn’t matter about the financial cost at all. Not to him.”
“I can live without money, but not without my self respect. I’ve heard that a dozen times.”
I thought back through the years, trying to pinpoint exactly when she thought it would be acceptable to have sex with another man. She’d tried to get me to accept a lot over the years. Going to Cancun for two weeks with her friends, a couple who were borderline sluts, one that was married.
She had worked up a pretty good presentation. It would be good to have a break from each other. It would make us stronger, blah, blah, blah.
I told her the idea sucked, the thought of her in a foreign country, on a beach with a lot of alcohol in the company of a group of women I considered little more than dick seeking missiles, was not really a good idea.
“But, it’s your life, so do whatever you’re of a mind to do. Just be aware of the cost.”
She had learned over the years that was one of my key phrases. It meant I knew she was wrong or it was a really bad idea, but I was tired of discussing it and if she went ahead she was going to have to deal with the consequences.
“Just one more thing. I’ll need my rings back. If you’re going to spread for strangers, you’ll do it without them on.”
She blew up and started to argue. I just sat until she ran out of steam.
“I thought of a few more things while you were talking. You won’t have time to rent an apartment while on vacation, so do you want me to put your things in storage or take them to your mothers’ house?”
She sulked, she screamed, she refused to cancel the plans.
Three days before she was to get on the plane she came home to an empty house and a note.
“Thought it over, decided I didn’t want to live here. Now you can go with a clear conscience, not worrying about betraying anyone. Have a nice trip. Oh, and keep the rings. They hold no value for me anymore.”
Her slut friends urged her to forget me and leave, but she tried two days to find me. I had taken a bit of my own vacation time and went camping.
I idly wondered if she got on the plane as I made another cast, determined to get that big bass I missed last summer, when I heard a sound.
“I figured you’d be here. Thank you for ruining a really good vacation. As you can see, I didn’t go. Happy now?”
I felt the rod twitch. Maybe Mr. Big was coming out to play.
“Fuck no, I’m not happy. It’s hard knowing if I’d been a little weaker you’d have trotted off, spread your legs, and had a hell of a time, knowing you had me under your thumb. Why are you here? Trying to ruin my weekend? Won’t work. Know why? Because you won’t be here. Go home, go somewhere else, just get the hell away from me. Since you didn’t go, I’ll fire the private eye and go for irreconcilable differences instead of adultery. Shit, it’s so easy nowadays, we can be done in four months.”
Mr. Big had hit, my rod was almost double and the drag was screaming like a virgin at a gangbang. He broke water, dancing across the water on his tail. He had to be eight pounds, maybe ten. Damn.
She chose at that exact moment to attack me, cussing like a sailor. I was knocked into the water, and Mr. Big got a little slack, spit out the hook, and with a slap of his tail went back into the deep.
She was screaming and laughing at the same time. The water was a little less than waist deep, but pretty damn cold in early April. I walked out slowly.
“Now maybe you’ll talk to me. I don’t want a damn divorce. You better lis…”
That was all she got out before I shoved her into the lake. She slid in the mud a little, waving her arms around in an attempt to balance, before losing it and falling backwards.
I noted she was dressed really well, and that she wasn’t wearing anything under that short skirt as she went under. Apparently she was going for the ‘fuck him stupid and make him forget’ plan of action.
She wasn’t looking real sexy now, mud and grasses all over her. I saw she was completely without underwear, and her nipples stood straight out, a testament to the cold.
She started to climb out, taking a breath to start screaming, when I shoved her back in.
When she got to her feet again I held up my hand.
“Listen. Don’t speak. If you open your mouth before I’m done, I swear I’ll jump in and hold you under until you stop bubbling. Nod your head if you understand.”
She must have believed me, because she slowly nodded her head.
“Now, what have we got to talk about? We both know if I had given in you would be fucking someone else right about now. Deny it all you want, we both know it’s the truth. I hope your slut friends stand by you, you’re going to need friends. Maybe you can spend your time trying to steal men from each other. God knows they’ve all made runs at me, even the married one. I’m going now. Do not follow me, do not call me, Don’t fight it when the papers are served.”
I could hear her crying and calling my name as I left.
It was no surprise when she fought the divorce, but I had to wonder why.