A Marriage in Crisis

Sandy considered it and agreed. It never occurred to her it was her first act of deceit. It might have been a little thing, an insignificant thing, but it was a first step.

One thing led to another; a tiny charm bracelet, a simple white handkerchief, a tiny aerosol mouth spray. Of course the mouth spray required a friendly sniff from the giver; just a faint little whiff of Sandy's sweet breath; oh so close to Bill's fresh brushed mouth.

He bought her a new kind of perfume just to wear at work, something that was mild, feminine, incredibly expensive, and something impossible to hide from a soon to be cuckold husband.

Then there came that first post-Christmas professional day; a long morning and afternoon of tedious lectures by boring specialists. Bill offered to ease Sandy's pain by taking her to lunch. They went to lunch. Of course one midday off campus lunch led to another. What was the harm, they always ate at inconspicuous inexpensive restaurants always close to school, often it was Dutch treat, and they always got back to school on time.

Then Bill suggested Sandy join him in some of the many after-school meetings he attended. After all Sandy was a gifted teacher. She had administrative potential. What was the harm in a few post school meetings where she could rub elbows with the shakers and movers of the system? Sandy was flattered. Of course she accepted. And to be sure, each afternoon meeting meant a brief post meeting lunch date.

Sandy was a little chary of these afternoon lunches at first. She told Bill, "I don't want Tommy to find out. He might get jealous."

Bill was always right there, "Not to worry we'll always finish up and get you home before Tommy gets home. He'll never know."

At these afternoon meetings Bill was a true gentleman. He offered sage educational advice. When she mentioned her imminent intent to soon quit and start a family he responded about how sad it would for the system to lose such a talented fresh new teacher. His remarks played right into her fears. He stoked the simmering fires of discontent.

He listened to Sandy's occasional complaints about her family and her husband. It was these miniscule tidbits of unhappiness that Bill honed in on. Always the considerate, polite, sympathetic, slightly older, more mature helper he was quick to agree with Sandy's every complaint. He'd smile and shake his head, "Some guys just don't know when they have a good woman."

It was like gasoline on a smoldering fire. He fed Sandy's every complaint with more fuel. Sandy ate up every caring comment. Every agreeing nod, every sympathetic smile lured poor Sandy deeper into his web of deceit. It was as though Bill understood her. He understood her unhappiness.

He elaborated, he extolled her about the dangers of childbirth, the disruptions it would cause to her life, the dangers inherent in pregnancy and delivery. He sympathized; some husbands just didn't care or understand the fears and concerns women on the cusp of motherhood had to grapple with.

Sandy started to look forward to her afternoon lunch sessions with Bill. He was so understanding, so sympathetic. Meanwhile he kept adding, item by item one more here, one more there, each outing, some reason why she should be unhappy with her home life.

Sandy started to look for things at home. Tommy was too gastric. He unconsciously and unnecessarily scratched and fidgeted. After a long afternoon on the field coaching and helping kids he sometimes came home filthy and foul with body odor. Bill never smelled. Once in a while Tommy even came home flatulent. Bill never passed gas. Was it the after coaching treats he provided the boys, or was Tommy just less concerned about how he behaved around her?

Bill never scratched. Bill never had morning mouth or late night hiccoughs or coughing spells. Bill was a gentleman, a real man. She bet Bill never had to bend over and clean a shitty toilet bowl after a bowel movement. For sure Tommy always wrapped the Q-tips in toilet paper after he cleaned his dirty ears, but she knew the yellow scum was in there. Tommy sometimes had shit stains in his boxers. Oh she noticed how he tried to hide them; he'd immediately scrub out the soiled pants so she wouldn't see, but she saw the evidence of poor hygiene anyway. Though he always used a Kleenex she saw how he discreetly picked his nose. Oh she never saw the evidence, she never saw a dirty bougar, but she knew they were there just the same.

Tommy had a habit of reaching in the cereal box with his hand and dragging the cereal out manually. She'd watched Bill at work at one of their school breakfasts. His hands never touched the cereal inside the box like that. He just shook his cereal out. No filthy fingers touched the cereal others might want. When Tommy ate fried eggs he cut them up completely in the southern fashion before eating them. She bet Bill used the more sophisticated method of cutting a piece of white and carefully dipping it into the yolk. That's why they were called dippy eggs. Yes, she saw Tommy increasingly as the pale unsympathetic carbon copy of the mature professional she worked with every day.

Then Sandy started to unload about her sexual inadequacies. If she'd known the truth, hers was a fairytale sex life, but good old Bill had been quietly poisoning the well. When Sandy started to complain about her imagined unhappy sex life, Bill was ready to offer a warm, loving, nonthreatening shoulder. He was always ready with a sympathetic remark. He reminded her of her lack of experience. He told her how men often differed in their sexual styles, and how she'd never had the chance to make the marvelous discoveries variety offered.

Sandy started to wonder what sex might be like with another man. She'd never had sex with anyone but Tommy. She'd been a virgin when they went to bed together on their marriage night. She'd been proud of her purity, but had it been a mistake? Was he all that good? Could she have gotten better? Was there something else? Was there something more out there? She wondered. She wondered about Bill.

Red Flags at Home

Tommy was no fool. He might be somewhat naïve about some things, but he started to see the signs. Sandy was becoming distant. They used to talk all the time about everything. Lately she wouldn't talk, and when she did she was short and curt. She'd started to criticize, find fault where no fault should be found. He could tell she was getting home later than she used to. Once she used to stop by and watch him coach; she never did that any more. Sometimes he could tell she barely beat him home. He started to check the hood of her car. It was always hot now when he got home.

Something wasn't right. Sometimes he smelled liquor on her breath. Not hard stuff, something less, maybe just a glass of wine. It worried him. Sandy wasn't a drinker. Neither was he. She seemed more tired at night. Their sexual adventures were less frequent, and she seemed distracted, even bored. He tried harder, but she only got worse.

And she couldn't fool him about the gifts. He'd seen the handkerchiefs, the costly brooches, the skanky little charm bracelet, he smelled the perfume. He also noticed for the first time she started to paint her nails, he noted the darker mascara, the brighter redder lip gloss. Who was the war paint for?

Once she came home and her lipstick was slightly smeared. He asked her in a jokingly sort of way, "What your lipstick looks smeared. Somebody give you a big kiss?" Normally a comment like that would have elicited a laugh and a joke. Not this time. Sandy retorted, "What, are you accusing me of something?"

That's when Tommy knew! His bowels turned to ice.

Trying to Plug the Hole in the Dike.

Tommy was at a loss. His wonderful wife, his sweetheart, his perfect little girl couldn't be planning an affair. Not her Not his Sandy! He had to act. First he did some snooping.

Tommy had friends all around the school district. He asked about any changes in personnel at Sandy's school, and that's when he found out about Moyers, the man had a history. He'd been transferred to Sandy's school after rumors had spread about another young woman at his prior school. He knew he couldn't bring it up to Sandy, but at least he had a name.

Tommy decided to go the tried and true route. Sandy loved presents. He went to the bank and pulled several hundred dollars from their housing fund. There was an expensive tennis bracelet Sandy had tried on at the mall. It wasn't cheap. It would cost a king's ransom, it would set back their plans for the future, but he had to do something. He bought it.

The night he decided to give it to her Sandy actually got home after he did. It was a first, and it terrified him. He held up the little packet with the bracelet, "Sandy I got you something I know you'll like."

Sandy looked at the box. She knew it was jewelry. She bet, from the size and shape of the box it was the tennis bracelet she'd admired. A year ago she would have been ecstatic, but not now. They were too close to the...the time...the time when her life would change forever. She knew the money would have had to come from their housing account, and second she instinctively knew this was a bribe. She knew her Tommy, and she knew he was tense about something. For once she wondered if he was having an affair. No not her Tommy; they were too much alike. Just that thought caused her stomach to quake. She looked back at the box, "Oh, jewelry. Put it down. I'll look at it later."

She wanted it. She'd loved that tennis bracelet, but she couldn't take it. That was money wrongly spent, money for a bribe, money they'd need later for when...it scared her. If she told Tommy the truth she'd have to face her real fear, that wouldn't do. She'd have to blow this off some other way. Why did he put her on the spot like this? It made her mad.

Tommy was completely nonplussed, "I bought it today. Are you sure you don't want to at least look at it and see?"

Sandy snapped, "I said not now. Put it aside. I'll check it later." She saw the pained look on his face. A few weeks ago she'd have rushed to him and apologized. Not today. Her secret fears and her talks with Bill had readied her for this. Tommy was trying to buy her off. She would have none of it. This was a wrongful bribe.

She spewed even more venom, "Don't give me that hang dog look. I said I'd check it later."

Tommy put it on the kitchen counter.

Sandy had just to put him in his place; she never bothered to open it. She left it where he'd placed it. It made her feel guilty, but it was his fault.

The next day at work during their afterschool get together Sandy told Bill about the gift, "Bill you should have seen him. He was standing there with this box like it contained the Hope Diamond. I knew what it was, just a tennis bracelet. He thought I'd jump in his arms and smother him with kisses. I showed him."

Bill agreed, "You were right not to open it. You should leave it right where he put till he's good and sorry for trying to buy your love.

Sandy agreed.

August 7th, 1945. The Enola Gay is on the Runway.

Sandy had just about decided to let Bill have sex with her. She felt like she was in a kind of fog. She knew it would be wrong, well sort of, but it was as if all her moral forces were on stand down. It could hurt Tommy, but in a few weeks she'd be starting down the road of motherhood. Once that began there'd be no turning back. If there was something better she had to find out now. She wondered; could anything be better than Tommy? She told Bill again, "You know Bill I've never slept with anyone except my husband."

Bill had been waiting for this, "Sandy they say variety is the spice of life. I wouldn't want to push you, but if you're interested in adding a little something new to your life I'd be glad to please you. I mean I'm not trying to force you, but I think I can help."

By then Sandy was so malleable she believed anything Bill said. Sex with Bill would be like a helping hand, "How about tomorrow night? It's Friday. I'll make up some excuse. We can meet somewhere; maybe spend some time together."

Why did she say that? It scared her; do something with someone other than Tommy? Was she crazy? Well she could meet with Bill, and decide then. Besides, like Bill said, she'd be putting Tommy in his place. What place was that she wondered?

Bill had an even better idea, "Why don't we meet at a restaurant right after-school first and try something I bet you've never done before?"

"What would that be?" asked Sandy.

Bill replied, "Let's make that a special surprise. It could be fun. Then you could go home. Clean up, and we'll meet back at say the Holiday Inn at around 6:00 p.m. We'll have a small supper, then go someplace private."

Sandy felt something unusual, it was like butterflies in her stomach. This was all new. It sounded exciting. A tryst, a secret rendezvous, something like they showed in the movies. She'd have her own secret private adventure, "You're wife?"

"She won't know. It'll be our secret. No one else will ever know. You'll get a new experience, it'll help you compare and better understand men, and neither your husband nor my wife will ever know."

Then he lowered the boom, "I'd only be doing this to help you out. In fact it'll probably make your marriage better."

Sandy had a moment's misgiving, "You think it will. I mean make my marriage better? What if they find out?"

Bill was confident, "Oh, I'm sure it will make it better. And don't worry. They won't find out. We'll be careful, and even if they do, if we explain it right, they'll understand."

Sandy thought about it; Tommy would never know, and if he ever did find out she'd explain it. She knew her Tommy. She could do anything. He loved her. He'd go along. He'd understand it was for their marriage. That gave her pause; how would it make it better. Well Bill said it would. She looked at Bill, "All right tomorrow afternoon and then tomorrow night. But I'll have to make something up, and I'll have to be home before 10:00 p.m.

Bill held out his hand, "Deal."

Sandy took it and shook his hand. His hand was smaller and softer than her Tommy's, "Deal"

She was going to have her own secret romantic interlude. She'd have her own private adventure. Tommy would never know, and even if he ever found out he'd understand. Heck, she thought she might even tell him anyway. She was going to become a better, more sophisticated lover. She was sure he'd go along. Then she thought better of that. Better keep it a secret; it would be more fun that way.

She was glad she'd met Bill. He was really smart.

Bill and Sandy got up and left. They'd picked a time and a place to start something new. Sandy was incredibly excited. So was Bill, but for entirely different reasons.

Zero Minus Ten: Count Down!

Sandy got home just ahead of Tommy on Thursday. She kept thinking; one more day, one more day. Tomorrow would be the big day. I'll begin my great adventure. I'm so nervous. It'll be great. I've got to get control of myself. Tommy mustn't suspect anything. Get hold of yourself.

Tommy walked up to the door. He'd checked the hood of her car and he knew she hadn't been home long. He had this premonition. He felt like they were on the brink of disaster. Something just wasn't right. He walked in, "Sandy I'm home."

Sandy tried to control herself, best not to be too friendly, "Yeah, I see."

He smiled, now he was certain something was absolutely terribly wrong, "How about spaghetti tonight?"

That was the last thing she wanted. She wanted a quick quiet supper, and she wanted to get to bed early. Tomorrow was her special day, "No, how about just soup and sandwiches?"

Tommy put a good face on it, "Soup and sandwiches coming up!" He looked over at the counter. The jewelry box was still there, "Hey Sandy why don't you open the box I got you?"

That was the last thing she wanted, a loving evening with her naïve innocent boy husband. Just the sight of the box made her feel funny. Was it guilt? She replied, "No I'll check some other time."

He tried to be pleasant, "I think you'll like it?"

She looked away, "I said not tonight."

He watched her. There was definitely something awful going on, "Sandy I think we need to talk."

Bill had warned her about the 'big talk', "No not tonight. I don't feel too good."

He smiled, "Want me to give you a massage?"

She flipped back, "No, I want you to leave me alone."

"What if I just combed your hair?"

She snapped at him, "No damn it; leave me alone!"

He watched her, then he snarled, "Fix your own fucking sandwiches." He got up and went into their small living room.

Sandy gasped, he just cussed at her! He never cussed, never! But that was what she wanted. He was finally showing his true colors. She slapped a couple pieces of cheese between two slices of bread, pulled out a bottle of water, and went back to their bedroom.

He knew he'd been done. This was serious. He wondered if she was about to do something they'd both regret. He had to bring it up. He followed her to the back bedroom. He went in, "Sandy you've changed. I can tell something's up, something's really wrong and I don't know what to do about it. I bought you a $700.00 bracelet and you could give a shit. You've gone out of your way to be the classic bitch. This just isn't like you. Now what's wrong?"

She was lying on the bed and facing away from him. She wondered if he knew. He couldn't, nothing had happened yet. She lied, "I just don't feel good. Now leave me alone."

He knew that wasn't true, "Sandy that's bull shit. I know you get home late every evening. You couldn't have been home for more than five or ten minutes before I got here. I've smelled alcohol on you a couple of times lately. Sandy you don't drink! You know what I think? I think you're seeing someone."

She stiffened but didn't turn around, "Don't make me sick. Tommy that's just stupid. You sound stupid. Why would I do something like that?"

He sat on the bed, "I don't know. Why would you?"

She rolled around and gave him a savage look, "What now you're the Gestapo?"

He backed down just a little, "Sandy we have good marriage. We'll start having our own children soon. Don't mess this up."

He'd hit the nerve. She unconsciously shivered.

He got back up, "I'm worried. Remember what the promises we made. Love, honor, cherish, forsake all others? Don't ruin this."

She curled up tight in a little fetal ball, "Go away Tommy. I'll open the damn box this weekend. Nobody's ruining anything. I told you I feel bad."

Jesus she thought, he had to mention how close they were to the big change in their lives. He had to bring up their wedding vows. It scared the shit out of her. Maybe she should say something? No, she was too scared to talk about anything, especially that night.

He stared at the back of her head. He knew something was dreadfully horribly out alignment, "Sandy you know I love you. I'd do anything for you. You're the reason why I get up in the morning. Please don't do anything stupid."

She replied, "Good night Tommy." She thought about what he'd said. He was worried. Yes he was suspicious, but he didn't really know anything. She'd go out tomorrow night. She'd listen to Bill some more. If she liked what he said, she'd have her little fling, her secret tryst. Tommy would never know, and if he ever found out. Why, he never said anything really threatening. If she got caught, which she knew she wouldn't, she knew she could explain it all out, just a little secret fun. Heck, Bill told her it was safe and he was smart, she trusted him.

Neither Sandy nor Tommy slept very well that evening. Sandy kept going over what she and Bill had planned in her head. She kept thinking about Tommy. She kept going over everything Bill had told her; how this would be a good experience for her, how it would make her marriage better. Bill said it was safe and sure; nothing could go wrong.