The Stud

"That's it? You don't even know his full name? I'm sure Skip is a nickname. That doesn't help me at all. You say he rents this house, do you know if any of the utilities were put in his name?"

"I don't know for sure but I doubt it."

"Taylor you've got to get me something to work with. What about a license plate number?"

"Yeah, I can get that for you. He's got an old, beat-up truck. It's always parked in the drive. Would that do it?"

"Yeah," he responded, "that'll do fine."

I told him I'd get Skip's plate number on the way home. Dan seemed very knowledgeable but not very reassuring about what I wanted to do. I was starting to feel discouraged.

Between trying to come up with some kind of a plan to ruin Skip's life and working through the anger I felt for my wife, the entire day was a total bust. I got nothing done. It was getting close to quitting time and I had no idea how I was going to deal with my wife's infidelity yet. Divorce seemed awful drastic for a one time slip up, especially with the booze involved; besides...I still loved her. Love isn't something you just switch off...'now you see it, now you don't,' kind of thing.

The problem was trust, or should I say the lack of it. Even taking in consideration the amount of alcohol she had, she sure didn't put up much of a fight. Was this really the first time, or just the first time she was caught? How would I know? Would she tell me the truth if I asked her? Doubtful...

On the way home, I had a pen and paper all ready to write down Skip's license number but wouldn't you know it, his truck was gone. That's okay, I told myself, I'll take a walk tonight and get it then. The walk will do me good anyway.

It was the first time in our marriage that Britney had been home as I walked in and she didn't rush up and give me a big kiss and hug. She wanted to but I could see the uncertainty in her face as she approached. She was looking to me for a signal so I gave her one; I shook my head no and saw her hope collapse.

What did she expect, I wondered, that after one day all would be forgiven?

She lowered her head and I thought she was going to start crying again, but instead, announced dinner would be ready in half an hour. I ran upstairs to take a quick shower. That's when I decided on my first course of action. I looked into our closet and everything was the same, at least in appearance...but things weren't the same. I didn't feel the same way toward my wife as I had the previous morning.

I started moving my clothes from the closet in our room to the closet in the guest room. When I was done there, I moved my toiletries into the hall bathroom.

Britney must have heard me walking back and forth. "What are you doing?" she asked from the top of the landing.

"I think it's better if I sleep in the guest room for a while," I announced.

"Oh Taylor, please don't do that, please. Let me make it up to you somehow. I'll..."

"I need some time, Britney," I coldly interjected.

She knew it was useless to argue with me. She lowered her head and turned to go back down the stairs. "Okay, Taylor, I'm sorry," she muttered as she left.

The rest of the evening was very quiet. It appeared she was going to give me the time I needed; but time to do what, I still didn't know.

We sat on opposite ends of the couch and watched the news, after which Brit said she was going to bed. She looked at me and again I could see the hope in her eyes, and again it was destroyed when I told her I was going to take a walk and get some fresh air.

Of course the first thing I did was walk past Dottie's place and get that license number, then I really did take a walk. I must have been gone for two hours. When I returned I slipped into the spare bedroom and actually fell to sleep.

The next two days were similar except that I had gotten some work done. It was Friday afternoon by the time I heard back from Dan.

"Okay Taylor, I've got a bunch of info about your nemesis but I don't know if it's going to do you any good. His..."

"Hold on," I interrupted, "let me get a pen." I pulled a pen out of my desk drawer and grabbed my note pad. "Okay...shoot."

"Well Skip is a nickname. His real name is Phillip Ackerman. Although nothing big, he has had a few run-ins with the law, mostly for possession of marijuana. He's also had trouble holding down a job. He's had four in the last two years, the longest one he held for eight months. He's currently working at a gas station in Evanston. He has no credit and only a checking account, no savings and no credit cards except for one Shell gas card. I don't know where his dad is but his mother lives in the city with her second husband."

So far I hadn't heard anything that would help with my quest.

"The girl is another story. Her name's not Joy, it's Joyce, Joyce Watley. She's from Crowned Tip, Indiana. Her dad's a barber there and her mom works at the county seat. I'm not sure they know where their daughter is, I don't think they do. It doesn't look like they've had any contact with her in a couple of years. That's about the time that she and your Skip got together. By the way, they're not married."

"Damn, how did you find all this out?" I asked amazed at what he was able to uncover from just a license plate number.

"Shit, Taylor, it's unbelievable how much information there is out there on everyone. You just have to know where to go to find it, that's all."

"Well I'm stunned," I told him.

He chuckled. "There is one thing you might be able to use, they don't seem to be getting along right now."

"Really? Why do say that? They sure seemed to be getting along fine last Monday."

"Well the very next night the cops had to go over there on a domestic violence call."

"They did?"

"Yup, Joyce had a black eye but wouldn't prefer charges and since the cops didn't see him hit her, there was really nothing they could do."

"How did you find that out?"

"It popped up when I googled his name. It was in Wednesday's edition of the Times, under that police blotter section they have."

I had to laugh, hell I could have done that.

"They're kind of a strange couple," he said.

"You're telling me?"

"No, I mean they don't have anything in common. As near as I can figure, he's always been kind of a jerk, but she was a good Midwestern girl before she met him. I've got a feeling she hooked up with him because she was rebelling against her folks, you know...that bad boy syndrome. Hell, it happens every day."

I was disappointed. So far there didn't seem to be any information I could use.

"I don't know how much you want to stick your nose into somebody else's business but you might want to call the parents and just see if they know where she's at, or if they even care. There's one more thing too; she had a fiancé' before meeting Skip. He was her boyfriend in high school. About a year after they both graduated they got engaged. His name's Jack Bufford, a real 'All American Boy.' He works as a salesman for an electronics firm out there, and...he's still a bachelor...maybe he's still carrying a torch. It's a longshot but who knows."

It was a longshot alright. I didn't really see how any of the information Dan gave me was going to help me ruin that son-of-a-bitch. Maybe I should just hire some guys to beat the shit out of him, I thought.

"Taylor I'm going to email you everything I have, all his account numbers, arrest records; everything, include her parent's phone number as well as Bufford's. What you do with it is up to you, but I'd give her parents a shot. What the hell, the worst that can happen is they tell you to go to hell and hang up on you."

I thanked Dan for all his work and asked him how much I owed him. He told me to give his sister a raise and he'd call it even. Actually she was due for a raise anyway so I told him I'd see what I could do.

Normally while driving home on a Friday, all I'd be thinking about was what I'd be doing with my wife later that night. Now all I was thinking about was how to use the information Dan gave me. Maybe he was right; maybe her folks could make trouble for him, although she was over eighteen so I really didn't see how. Still...

It smelled like Thanksgiving when I got home. Britney came into the living room when she heard me walk in but didn't even think about kissing me this time.

"I'm cooking turkey breasts for dinner tonight, I hope that's okay," she stated.

"Fine," I responded before heading off to the shower. After a quiet dinner I closed myself off in my home office. I was debating whether or not to call Joyce's parents, hope won out.

"Hello."

"Hello, is this Mrs. Watley?"

"Yes, who is this please?"

"Mrs. Watley, my name is Taylor Benet. I'm a neighbor of your daughter's."

There was a brief silence before she spoke again. "You...you know where our daughter is?" she asked.

I could tell by her voice that she was almost ready to cry. "Yes ma'am, she lives down the block from me."

I heard her yell at her husband. "Carl, there's a man on the phone who says he knows where Joyce is."

"What...who? Are you sure it's not a crank call?" I heard him yell back.

She talked back into the phone. "Are you sure it's our Joyce? How do you know?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure. She's living with a guy named Skip."

"Oh my God! That's her, that's our Joyce," I heard her start to break down. Her husband took the phone.

"Hello, who is this?" he bellowed.

"My name is Taylor Benet. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset your wife."

"You say you know where our daughter is?"

"Yes sir, she lives right down the street from me. She's living with Skip Ackerman."

"Is she alright?" he anxiously asked.

"Yeah, as far as I can tell," I assured him.

"Thank God." You could literally hear the relief in his voice.

Dan's instincts were dead on. Her folks told me they thought she was nervous about getting married. That Bufford boy was the only guy she'd ever dated. As the wedding date approached she acted more and more strange. They said she started going out with some of her co-workers. The next thing they knew she met Ackerman and ran away with him. Bufford was absolutely devastated. They all tried to find her, to talk some sense into her, but she and Skip disappeared and they hadn't heard from her since. They had no idea if she was even still alive.

They became even more excited when they learned she lived only an hour-and-a-half's drive away. Carl asked if I could meet them some place on Saturday then show them the way to their daughter. I agreed. What the hell, I thought, even if it doesn't hurt Skip in anyway, at least they'll see their daughter and know she's okay.

We met at one o'clock Saturday afternoon at the Denny's about a mile from where I lived. When they walked in I was surprised to see that they had the ex-fiancé with them. He was a nice looking guy and I liked him right off the bat. I wondered what would possess Joy to drop him for a bastard like Skip.

They tried pumping me for information regarding their daughter but I didn't know anything. They asked how I found them and I told them I had some trouble with Skip and did a little research on him, that's when they popped up on the radar.

We talked for a little while but they were anxious and wanted me to lead them to their daughter. They followed me in their own car. When I got to Dottie's place I pointed out the window and they pulled right into the drive. I parked across the street. I had to watch.

All three got out of the car and knocked on the door. I could see the stunned look on Joy's face when she saw them. At first I thought she was going to slam the door on them but instead she ran into her mother's arms. They hugged and kissed for a full minute or so before she did the same with her father and then with the ex. Even from across the street it was easy to see she was ecstatic to see them.

A few minutes later they all disappeared behind the door. Skip's truck wasn't in the drive so I wasn't worried about any trouble starting but I still wanted to stick around to see what happened.

I sat there for almost two hours wondering what was going on inside. Finally the door opened. Mr. and Mrs. Watley came out first followed by Bufford...he was carrying a suitcase. What I saw next made me feel better than I had all week. Behind her ex- beau walked Joyce with a second suitcase in hand.

Yeah, I silently yelled out with a real sense of accomplishment.

Joyce was just tossing her suitcase in the trunk of their car when guess who drove in. I thought, uh oh, this is going to get ugly. I was going to call the cops right away but thought I'd wait and see what happened first.

Skip started screaming at the top of his lungs and Mr. Watley screamed right back at him. Then Bufford joined in. Finally Joyce started yelling at Skip. I could hear her tell him she was going back home and didn't ever want to see him again. That's when Skip made a fatal mistake. He grabbed Joyce by the arm and tried to pull her back into the house.

Bufford decked him. I knew I liked that boy. When Skip tried to get up, wonder boy hit him again. I thought Joyce was going to run to his aid like she did at my party but this time she just turned and hid her face in her dad's chest. Bufford picked Skip up by his shirt and clock him one more time for good measure.

They left old Skippy boy laying in the yard as they all piled into their car and left. I sat there for a few more minutes figuring the cops would show but evidently no one called them. I had a feeling any neighbors who saw the fight felt almost as good about it as I did. I returned home with a smile on my face for the first time in almost a week.

I really wasn't looking forward to the weekend. I wanted to forgive Britney, I really did; I just couldn't. Maybe in time but even that was questionable. It'd been almost a week since it happened and some of my anger was starting to fade, the problem was as the anger diminished the pain and sadness emerged. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Britney in the throes of ecstasy from that bastards tongue. Would I ever be able to forget it? It was becoming more and more doubtful.

Bruce came over Sunday afternoon and asked if I'd like to go to Plato's and play some pool. I didn't really feel like it but I didn't feel like sticking around the house either.

"Why don't we just sit and have a beer," I said as we walked in.

"Sure, buddy" Bruce replied, "whatever you want to do."

We sat at the bar and ordered a couple of brews.

"Hey, I heard something in church this morning that might cheer you up a little; did you hear what happened to Skip?"

I played dumb. "No, what happened to him? Wait, he was eaten by a pack of wild dogs."

"Ah, no, nothing quite that drastic."

"Oh well, I can hope can't I?"

Bruce chuckled. "No, no dogs but he did get beat up again. Mr. Morgan was looking out his window from across the street and saw some guy beat the shit out of him. He said there were a bunch of people there. He had no idea who they were but Joy left with them."

"Her name's not Joy, it's Joyce."

"Huh, how do you know?"

"I know because I'm the one who called her parents and told them where she was. That's who Morgan saw there yesterday, Joyce's parents...and her former fiancé, I can't forget him; he has a pretty good right cross."

Bruce's chuckle turned into a laugh. "Okay buddy of mine, let me have it, I want the whole story."

I told Bruce everything, from Dan getting the info for me to sitting across the street and watching the festivities the day before. He kept laughing and chuckling as I talked.

"Oh man, that's priceless, Taylor, absolutely priceless; I love it."

"Yeah, I just wish I knew if he really loved her. I hope so, but more than likely he'll just talk some other little cutie into living with him."

"No, I don't think so," Bruce replied. "In spite of the abuse, I think he really loved her. According to Mr. Morgan, he sat on the stair of his front porch after that and cried like a baby."

Damn, I thought, I should have stuck around a little longer. I would have loved to see that. I'll have to make sure he knows who called her parents. "Really? Good, I hope it tore his black heart right out of his chest."

"Ah...speaking of love, I hope you don't mind me asking, but how are things in the Benet household?"

"I don't think we're going to make it, Bruce. I really don't."

"Taylor, come on, man; you can't tell me you don't still lover her."

"I'd never try to tell you that, Bruce, I'll probably always love her, but I no longer trust her, that's the problem."

"Because of one mistake?"

"That's just it, how do I know it was just this once? How do I know she's not sitting in a car with some asshole between her legs instead of being out with her girlfriends, like she says she is? Skip isn't the only SOB out there with a stud in his tongue. How do I know she's really at her parent's house and not some guy's apartment? I grant you, I'm sure the booze affected her judgment, but by her own admission she was pretty easily talked into doing what she did. She just had to find out how that damn stud felt."

I took a sip of beer and continued.

"If we stay married what guarantee do I have that she won't cheat again? What will I have to do so I don't worry whenever she's not home... constantly check up on her? How many times? For how long before I start trusting her again? Will I ever trust her again? Damn it, Bruce, I'm not going to spend the rest of my life wondering what my wife is doing every time she's out of my sight."

"Damn Taylor, I think you're going overboard here. Just because she got drunk and slipped up once doesn't mean she's going to do it again."

"Bruce you're missing the point, how do I know she hasn't done it already?"

"Well shit, Taylor, none of us know what our wives are out doing while we're at work...not for sure. There are no guarantees. You've just got to trust her."

"Exactly," I said, "and I did trust her. I never even thought twice about her cheating, but she broke that trust, Bruce. You know what they say about doing something wrong, it's always easier the second time, especially if you get away with it the first time."

"What about marriage counseling?"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that. I just don't know if it'd do any good. Is a marriage counselor going to convince me that Britney is trust worthy again...I doubt it."

"Damn man, I'd hate to see you guys break up."

I could hear Bruce's voice quivering a little. I looked over and saw he had tears in his eyes.

"I haven't completely made up mind yet, my friend."

He nodded his head slightly. "I sure hope you guys find your way back to each other, I love you both you know; so does Cathy."

"I know Bruce, thanks; you guys are good friends."

We were both feeling so damn melancholy I suggested we play some pool after all. By the time we left around the dinner hour we were both feeling better. Bruce correctly guessed Cathy was still at my house so he followed me home. It was nice to have someone there besides Britney and myself so I suggested Kentucky Fried.

I had to admit, I had a good time. We all sat around joking and laughing about past experiences we'd shared. Nothing was brought up about Skip or anything having to do with him, although I knew Bruce would tell Cathy my story about him and Joyce's parents as soon as they got home.

Later the following week, I received news that completed my revenge. I was just getting ready to call a client when I heard Linda through the intercom.

"Taylor, my brother's on line one for you."

"Your brother; okay, I'll take it, thanks," I said.

"Hey Dan, I'm glad you called. You were right about Joyce and her folks. They came out last Saturday and took her home with them. I owe you, man. Thanks."