And Then The Light Bulb Went On

I left a little earlier than I really needed to. I didn't want to be late for this meeting. If I got there early, I could always kill some time at a coffee shop, which is what I wound up doing. I was standing on George and Jeannie's porch at straight-up 10, ringing the bell.

Jeannie, looking beautiful as usual but extremely nervous, answered the door.

"I'm sorry it has to end like this," was all I could say as she leaned in for a hello hug. She didn't reply back. She took my hand and led me to the den, where George had all his mementos and photos arranged around the room. George was sitting in his favorite recliner, but as we entered he stood up in front of the chair.

"Hello, Clark."

"Hello, George."

Jeannie looked downright scared as she left the room.

We stood about six feet apart, looking at each other. This was a man I considered almost an older brother at one time, we were that close. George was two years older than me, about the same size, but soft living these past 20 years had given him about 30 more pounds, about 20 in his round stomach. We had shared our hopes and our dreams with each other, we had partied together, fished together, hunted together. I was proud to call him my friend, proud of where his judicial career had taken him.

Now, standing in front of me, sizing me up with his eyes, he was no longer a friend, but a foe: the man who had stolen my wife's love, impregnated her with his child, and ruined my life. Suddenly, I was enraged.

"You get to keep my wife's heart, you fucker!" I yelled at him. "You get to keep your squeaky clean image, too, because I promised Traci I'd never tell anyone about this, and I don't break my promises to that woman. But you don't get to keep your balls!"

I took a long, quick stride forward with my left leg at that point, then I planted and drove my right leg forward and up, going for that 50-yard field goal with my target being his aforementioned testicles. George reacted even slower than I anticipated, and my metal-tipped boot hit the target square and solid. I felt his balls crush as I drove my leg up as high as I could, then I heard him shriek like a wounded animal. He collapsed onto the floor holding his gonads with his hands, screaming like a stuck pig.

Jeannie came running into the room at that point, saw her husband on the floor, and ran to him. He continued to scream in agony, and there really wasn't anything she could do to comfort him. She looked over at me in anguish. I took my cellphone out of my pocket and dialed 911.

"There's been an accident at Judge George Anderson's house," I said. "We need an ambulance at this location."

I turned on my heel and headed toward the door, but before I could get there, Jeannie had grabbed my right arm. I thought I might have to hit a woman, but instead of being hysterical and angry, she had a calm look on her face. She hugged me tightly, and whispered, "Thank you. We know what we have to do."

I hugged her back, left the house, got into my car and drove home, knowing that the cops weren't going to come for me. Jeannie completely got it, and would explain it to her husband some day in the future when he could think straight.

The drive home was cathartic; or maybe it was the kick to his nuts. I really don't know, but after several months of having my heart ripped out on a daily basis, I now felt free. It's funny, but once I finally came to grips with Traci's cheating, her grip on my heart lessened, and then I was able to think clear enough to do what was the right thing for me. It might not have been the right thing for everybody concerned, but sometimes you just have to take care of yourself. That's what everybody else had done for the last 20 years, so why not me now.

Yes, I knew a part of me would always love Traci, but I wasn't going to spend any more time examining the affair. It was not of my making, nor of my choosing. It was time to move forward.

When I got home, I went down to the basement, got a couple of suitcases and headed up to our bedroom. I passed Traci sitting in the family room, and she followed me up to the bedroom.

"So this is it then?" she asked. "Just like that. Thirty-one years and out the door?"

"Traci, I'm sorry that you're so wrapped up in yourself that you can't see how YOU HAVE WRONGED ME. How you STOLE 24 years of my love with your deceit. You can't see it and you probably never will.

"I've made my peace with it, though, and I don't hate you. I don't even hate George, although right now the poor bastard probably thinks so. I'll make my peace with Barry and Katie sometime in the future. You might consider making YOUR peace with Marissa as soon as possible. The poor girl is a mess.

"Sign the paperwork, Traci, and let's get this thing done. I'll get the rest of my stuff out of here in the next few days.

"I don't think we really need to talk anymore. If you have anything else to say to me, I've put my lawyer's card on the kitchen table."

She stood there in shock, tears in her eyes but no words forthcoming. I picked up my suitcases, went downstairs, and put them in the truck of my car. I went back into the house, grabbed a few odds and ends and left. Thirty-one years, just like that.

Epilogue:

I lied. Apparently, George did get to keep one of his balls. It took some major surgery and months of pain, but they were able to save one of his testicles. I found that out from Marissa, who had been contacted by Jeannie looking for me. Jeannie didn't have my phone number, and nobody else in the family wanted to tell me that. Actually, nobody else in the family is still speaking to me, eight months later. I'm OK with it though.

The official word is that Judge George fell hard up against the corner of his ornate desk in his den, racked himself hard, then did it again when he fell to the floor. The press called it a "home accident" to be delicate about it, and did not report it was to his genital area. He received a lot of sympathetic press. I guess that won't hurt his placing on the Supreme Court short list.

Traci signed the divorce papers within a week, and the divorce was granted last week. The house will be sold at auction.

Traci hasn't tried to call me since I left. Barry and Katie haven't called either. I guess I won't be invited for the family Christmas dinner, wherever that is going to be.

The Old Man is turning the company over to me effective with the New Year as he retires. The deal is I have to run the company for seven years before I can retire a rich man with a very golden parachute. He'll find somebody to buy the company then, and I will get 10 percent of that deal as well.

I've started to venture out socially as well; I guess, I mean date. After being married forever, it's going to take a while for me to remember how it's done exactly. The word about the divorce travelled fast, though, and several of our divorced women friends have called inquiring about my interest. In fact, two or three of Traci's divorced friends have called, too, pointing out their surprise that she could ever let me get away. I have to admit, that felt good for my ego.

I've got a good life ahead of me, with challenges both professionally and personally. I'm working on getting some new hobbies going with the extra time I've got on my hands from the personal side of things. One hobby I've given up, though, is genealogy. Been there, done that.