“You found out then. What are you going to do? And before you go off on me about not telling you, I found out at summer camp. Jenny, my best friend, had a cousin named Toni, who has a boyfriend, Jack, who lives three doors down from us. He told Toni what he’d seen, who told Jenny, and Jenny told me.”
“Well, straight from the horse’s mouth then. It must be gospel.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, at least towards your daughter. I was going to tell tonight. What are we going to do?”
“You’re going to finish high school, having a ball senior year. You will most likely finish in a single parent household. As old as you are, the judge will probably let you pick who you want to live with. I’ll respect your decision if it’s your mom, just tell me you won’t cut me out of your life. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a pretty clueless guy most of the time. Of course I’ll pick you. I could never manipulate her like I can you. She’s spent so little time being with us, even in the same house, I bet she couldn’t pick me out of a lineup. But what I really, really need to do right now is get the taste of camp food out of my mouth. I’d kill for a decent pizza or a good burger. So if you want to get to your only child’s heart, do it through my stomach.”
I took her to the local pizza place, and watched as she destroyed three quarters of a large meat lovers pie with extra cheese. She sat back, burped, and asked me what I was going to do about her mother.
She acted grown up and tough, but I could see the little girl in her eyes. This was going to be hard on us. I took her hand.
“Let me tell you where my priorities are, Andi. First, I have to make absolutely sure I handle this the right way. I need to figure out in the coming months how to minimize the impact of the divorce will be on you. Right now, you are the number one person in my life. I want you safe, and as happy as I can make you. A lot depends on how your mother reacts. You have my promise I’ll do my best to keep you from getting caught in the middle. But pumpkin, if what I suspect is true, my marriage to your mother is dead.”
It was a surreal conversation to be having with your daughter, but I’d always asked for her input in major family decisions since she was fourteen. Of course, some decisions she couldn’t participate in, but I tried to get her involved in everything else. When we needed a car when she was fifteen, even though Mom wanted a sporty little car, she went with me in favor of the SUV. I ended up driving it anyway, hauling Toni and her friends around, and Beth got her little car the next year.
It was me who taught her to reflect before she made a decision, and consider all sides before giving advice. It stood her well, making her a natural leader, and confessor to her group of friends.
“You need to figure out how to keep the house, until I graduate, at least. Then let her have it, if it helps you financially. I’m still going to State, right? The money will be there, won’t it?”
I rushed to assure her. “Honey, there’s enough in your 529C to get you through the first three years. Even if your mother doesn’t help, I’ll have plenty of time to come up with the money to pay for your last year. I give you my solemn promise.”
We got home, and I left her to unpack her things and think. By now I only wanted to know two things about her mother. How soon we could get divorced, and who’s the asshole she’s screwing.
…
It was pretty simple, in the end. All the high tech gadgets you can buy on the internet can’t beat a good old fashioned deer cam.
Well, maybe I misspoke. The deer cams I borrowed from my brother were state of the art, doing a thirty second video when activated, before going to stills. It gave you a time stamp, and could be programmed to zoom in on activation. They even had audio, but usually they were so far away from their subjects they didn’t pick up much.
It took a little brainstorming to figure out how to conceal them, but with the help of my brother I built two birdhouses, each concealing a camera. I put one on a tree by the driveway, that activated whenever someone pulled in, and the other on a pole pointing directly at the front door. I didn’t need to see them doing the nasty, it wouldn’t matter anyway. She said something smarmy about putting up birdhouses at the end of summer, and I told her it was to let them weather, so the birds would think they were a natural part of the yard.
Of course, I was blowing total smoke, what the hell did I know about how a bird picked a nest? She just shrugged and ignored them.
Here’s how it worked. She worked at a company that had flex hours, so two, three times a week she’d take two hours for lunch, working over or coming in early to do her work. Her boyfriend must have worked at the same place. She got to the house thirty minutes before he did, grabbing a sandwich and shedding clothes. He’d show up, they would bump uglies for about thirty minutes, then they would dress and leave, her going back to work, him killing time until he was due back. Sometimes he’d stay at my house, drink one or two of my beers, my home crafted beers a friend supplied me with. I’m surprised I didn’t notice. Maybe Toni was right, maybe I really was clueless.
Juvenile as shit, but when I found out, I moved all but one or two out to the shop fridge. They were old style bottles, with ceramic caps and rubber washers, about twenty-four ounces full. I’d take the ones I left in the house, drink about a fourth of them, and fill them up with fresh piss. Then I’d shake them well and put them back. I’d grin like crazy when I’d come home and find an empty on the counter. I could have made him sick, but did I really give a fuck?
About once a week I’d pull the cover off the septic tank and pull the rubbers out. They were busy little bees, averaging twice a session. No wonder she had no enthusiasm for me, she was all fucked out most of the time.
It took me three weeks of careful preparation, but everything was set up and ready to go. I wouldn’t let Toni be there when it all came down. Nobody deserved to see a parent humiliated like I intended.
I thought about inviting the neighbors, but then I thought better of it. Instead I set up two video cameras, and started them filming. Brian had an old boombox, that used cassettes. I placed it beside my dresser, where it was barely noticeable.
I tried to time it so the boombox went off just after they were naked. The cassette had been running, empty tape, until it hit the sounds I’d recorded. I tested the sucker, and it was loud.
BOOM! The sound of a shotgun going off and wood splintering. I’d gone to habitat and purchased an old door, that I set up in the woods and shot. As soon as the shot went off, you could hear me screaming. Very little of it was acting, I had a lot of pent up rage, and I turned it loose.
“YOU CHEATING SLUT!” The shotgun went off again. “I’M GONNA BLOW HIS BALLS OFF! THEN I’M GONNA STICK THIS SHOTGUN UP YOUR CHEATING CUNT AND PULL THE TRIGGER UNTIL IT’S EMPTY! HERE I COME, BITCH.”
I bet I’ve watched the scene a hundred times, and still can’t help laughing. They came flying out the front door, scrambling to their cars. All he had on was a white shirt, his pants, coat, and tie in his hands. I found his boxers on the bedroom floor later. I stepped around the house and started towards him. He screamed like a girl and jumped into his car. That’s when he noticed the gift I’d left him.
I’d taken two five gallon buckets, dipped about four gallons of septic fluid(and a few solids)in each, and divided the rubbers equally. Just before the gun went off inside, I’d poured it onto the driver’s seat. Serves the dumbass right for leaving his car unlocked in a strange neighborhood.
It still didn’t stop him from hauling ass.