The Best Revenge is a Life Lived Well
                          Coyright by Joesephus

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Synopsis: Sometimes size matters, and sometimes looks can be deceiving.
Sometimes you don't know what you betting until you've lost it.
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As this story has gone through revisions, I've had abundant help. I'd
like to thank Angle Love, Clayton, Mark and Erik Thread for all their
help and their patience.

This story was written with MS Word.  I used things like bold and italics
to make dialogue more understandable.  Those were lost when I converted 
this to TXT format.  If you wish to read the version with the formats
You can find them posted on other sites.  I would suggest you search 
for the title and Joesephus.

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I'm not stupid, just dense. Actually, I'm a certified Genius, at least
by MENSA standards. I don't belong, but I passed their test once on a
dare from my wife, my wonderful wife. Therein lies the story. I met her
while I was at UT. I was in the honors course at the McCombs School of
Business and I was also in Plan II.

Everyone knows about McCombs, it's always in the top ten business
schools in the country. Plan II is less well known and much harder to
get into. They only accept about 100 or so each year. It's a liberal
arts program started in the 1930s. Basically, you take special editions
of the courses that the university requires all students to take. Those
required courses are your major. They are all taught by University
scholars and the classes are tiny. My Freshman English Class had 9
students and was counted toward my major. My American History had 15
and also was counted toward my major. It means, with your major
satisfied in your first two years, the last two years you can take
anything you want, but most of us choose to have a double major. Mine
was in the business school. Plan II bills itself as Ivy League quality
and it is. It is also full of pretentious intellectuals.

Plan II is where I met Cathy. It was love at first sight... on her
part. It took me a bit longer to notice her. Not that she wasn't good
looking; she was a knockout by any standards, and by Plan II standards
she was Miss Universe. Her problem was that I hated all the Plan II
bullshit. I loved my courses, and I loved the professors, but I've
found that most intellectuals are so smart they're stupid.

It wasn't much better in McComb's. Not only was everyone trying to
impress everyone else with how smart they were, but everyone constantly
boasting about what wonderful jobs they were going to get or how fast
they'd earn their second million. All those preening peacocks' egos
left little room for my own modest ego. Of course I had to attend the
little faculty teas and luncheons because that was where you got to
know the professors and where they got to know you. The latter was
crucial if you wanted the oh-so-important letters of recommendation.

Cathy wasn't in McCombs but she started showing up at those meetings in
addition to the Plan II meetings. I only know this because she told me
later. It wasn't until she showed up at my rugby match that I noticed
her. Rugby isn't a UT sport, but the Department of Recreation sponsors
the club team and we get not only to play the other Big XII teams, but
to compete for a national title with universities across the country.

We have a blast, but a big crowd consists of all our girlfriends
showing up. Cathy had been chasing me for almost a full year when I
finally fell in love-at-first-sight with her. She had the most
beautiful shade of red hair and the whitest skin to set it off. Her
figure was such a knockout that I blew a scrum when I noticed her for
the first time, a cardinal sin for a hooker.

After the game, which we lost to Rice, I walked over to meet her. It
was one of the scariest things I've ever done. Cathy is every inch of
5'11" and I'm 5'3" in thick shoes. I'm a hooker because I'm compact.
And yes I've heard all the 'short' jokes and all the jokes about 'rugby
hookers' and 'street hookers'--I don't think they're funny! I'm compact
but also one of the fastest and strongest guys on the team, and not
just pound for pound. I have been accused of having a Napoleon complex
because of my height. I don't think that's true. I just decided in
first grade that if anyone confused compact with inadequate, they'd pay
for their ignorance. I was always a great athlete, as great as a 5'3"
120 pound guy could be. Which meant I always made the varsity, but I
was never a starter. An athletic scholarship was never a even daydream.

Somehow Cathy always made me feel like I was taller than she was, even
when she wore 3" heels. I loved it when she wore heels. It set off her
perfect legs, but more important to me, it was proof positive that my
height didn't matter. Cathy was my dream girl. I was totally hers from
the moment she smiled at me.

She came from a poor family in deep east Texas. Her father had been
injured in the oil fields and died, drunk, in a one-car accident when
Cathy was in second grade. Her mother was an office worker in a small
insurance agency and Cathy was on a full academic scholarship, although
I'm sure she could have gotten a needs-based scholarship if necessary.

We officially met in the fall of my junior year and were married at
mid-term of my senior year. The only thing we fought over was sex. I
wanted it on our first date and Cathy didn't. I was a virgin and Cathy
wasn't.

Until Cathy, I'd been every girl's 'pal.' I had dates, but on them I
always heard about who they really wanted to date. I know I could have
gotten a sympathy fuck, but I wanted a girl who wanted me. Cathy told
me that she'd had one boyfriend in high school. She had been certain
she would marry him, but she found him cheating on her and she made a
solemn vow not to have sex again until she got married. I'm not sure we
would have made it if she hadn't defined sex as vaginal intercourse, she
gave wicked head. It also made me admire her. She kept her word, her
vows meant something. I knew there were time before we married when she
wanted me as much as I wanted her, but she never lost her head. It gave
me confidence in her and inspired me to do the same.

We didn't have our first non-sex fight until after we were married.
Then it was a doozy. She had just assumed that I was going to go to
work for my parents. I love my folks They own four franchises down in
Houston. No, not McDonald's, but you've probably eaten at one, or at
least seen the ads on TV. Each location nets between 75-100K per year
so my folks are doing pretty well, not Texas rich, but comfortable. My
dad wanted to expand, but couldn't without managerial help. The only
managerial help he trusted was family. He defined family as me. I'm
four years older than my sister and she had made it clear from
kindergarten that she was pre-med.

He offered us a great incentive plan. I wanted to stay in Austin, but
not only so Cathy could finish her degree. I loved the town and I hated
Houston. I already had my eye on a small Austin computer company that
was just getting started. It wasn't Dell but I thought they had a
better business model! When Cathy saw the package they were offering
me, she dropped her arguments and right after she graduated we bought
our first house.

Life was good, but Dell grew and my company didn't, and soon I found
myself on the street for the first time. Fortunately I had cashed in my
stock options early so I decided it was a great time to pick up my MBA.
I chose Wharton and finished in two years. I got a great job working
for one of the big banks back in Austin and life was good again. I
caught the Austin real estate boom and bust and boom. We had two kids
and were living in too much house out on the lake with his and hers
Beemers.

Then, after ten years of marriage, I decided I didn't care about being
a multi-millionaire and I was sick of working for someone else. I told
Cathy I wanted to start my own business and I used most of our liquid
assets to buy a franchise, the same one that my dad owned. I had never
worked in one of my dad places, and running one was more work than I
thought. At first we didn't clear what Dad's stores did,?but we weren't
missing any meals. What I didn't tell Cathy was that my real desire was
to write.

The old Plan II bug had finally bitten me and once I had the franchise
running smoothly, I began spending most of my time closeted in my
office writing. I didn't want Cathy to know about my perversion until I
got published and made my delusion pay. All she saw was that we were
only making a fraction of what I'd been making, and I wasn't pushing
for expansion. We were not keeping up with the Joneses, to say nothing
of all the Dellionairs (even assembly workers at Dell were making
millions on stock options) who lived around us.

Yeah, we lived and partied with a very competitive crowd in laid back
Austin. "He who has the most toys wins," was very much the philosophy
and the toys cost a bundle. Even before I began writing, I'd decided
that I didn't need or want the toys anymore. To be fair to Cathy, the
decision wasn't discussed and it wasn't mutual That's when we had our
next fight. It went on for almost a year, and life in our house was
hell. Then almost overnight the fights stopped. That wasn't all that
almost stopped. Sex and affection stopped, too, but I never suspected a
thing.

I'm not dumb, I knew that money was very important to Cathy, but I
thought I could make that as a writer. If I had researched what writers
make I might have reconsidered, but that was just one more case of
ignorance being bliss. I finished my first book and began shopping for
an agent. I finished my second book and agents began to return my
emails. I got my third book finished and one morning I received that
oh-so-important call from the publisher. She was going to buy all
three. What's more she was willing to give me a $30,000.00 advance on
each! For an unpublished writer that's a homerun.

I had a little micro recorder that I used to practice dialogue aloud
before I wrote it for my books. Elated, I got permission to record the
publisher's offer so I could impress Cathy. I called Cathy and told her
we were going to celebrate. I told her to hire a baby sitter and put on
her best; I was taking her to Green Pastures, one of the best
restaurants in Austin, for dinner.

Her lack of enthusiasm should have set off red lights and warning
bells. Hell, her not being ecstatic about going out, in the middle of
the week, to the best place in Austin? It should have set off flares
and air raid sirens

We got to the restaurant, a restored southern mansion, early enough to
see the peacocks strolling the grounds and were ushered to a romantic
room with an impeccable table. I ordered their milk punch and Cathy
ordered a margarita.

I could feel her tension building all through dinner. I should have
known something was wrong but I was too excited. I had decided to wait
until dessert to spring my surprise but then her cell phone rang.

"We're at dinner... You're kidding! Here! Now?"

"No, not until this weekend..." she stopped in mid-sentence again and
then giggled.

"No, I told you how I wanted to do it... I can't! Please, Mike, not
here. " She sighed, listened for a little bit and then said, "Are you
sure?... Just like we practiced?" She listened a bit more and I watched
her face harden.

I had already taken out the micro recorder to play for her but some
instinct made me start recording when she said "Please, Mike, not
here."

"Okay, but you'd better be here, this is going to be ugly... Okay, I
love you, too."

She hung up her phone and gave me a look that I'd never seen. It was an
implacable, denigrating stare. "I'm going to leave you, shrimp dick. I
can't live with a wimp, and I can't live with a loser. I've been having
an affair for the last six months and you've eaten his cum out of my
twat. I detest you. I only married you because I thought you were going
to make it big and you're a huge failure. No, nothing about you is huge,
you have the smallest dick I've ever seen on a grown man. You're so
tiny, I'm surprised you were able to get me pregnant. You're so short
I'm scared to let you go out alone with the kids. You're too little to
protect them if a kinder?arten bully showed up. So I'm not going to
allow even partial custody.

"The only thing decent about you is your little tongue. If you want to
come home and eat Mike's fresh cum out of my pussy for old time's sake,
I'll consider giving you unofficial visitation. If not, well they got
SHORTchanged by having your DNA but I won't let them be polluted by
your tiny ambition."

I'm not dumb. I knew Cathy had married me for where she thought I would
take her, but I never saw this coming. I think the reason I didn't react
as she expected was because it was such a sudden change from the way
she'd been acting before the call. I wasn't going to lose my temper
over temporary insanity. Then it dawned on me. She was trying to
provoke me to violence. I've never hit her but she knows I've got a
hair-trigger temper about certain subjects. She knew me, and she
expected me to hit her! IN PUBLIC!

With cold calculation, I blurted, "Cathy, I love you. Why are you doing
this?"

Her face twisted into a hideous snarl, her voice raised to a near
shout. "I was prepared to put up with your disgusting tiny limp
drooling dick, you little pipsqueak, as long as you were going places.
I've told you a hundred times I won't be a LOWER-middle-class
housewife. You wouldn't listen. It wouldn't have been so bad if you had
the first clue about how to satisfy a woman, but all you want to do is
try to stick that pathetic little pencil in me and pump for five
seconds. I've always hated you in bed."

One of the things I learned playing sports is to keep my cool under
pressure. I wasn't sure why Cathy was saying things so loudly, but I
could see the maitre 'd edging towards us.

I know that my cock isn't massive. It's normal sized, just a fraction
(a half inch is a fraction) under seven inches. Even so, I spent hours
going down on Cathy and no one could fake the orgasms she had. I could
feel them inside her, during oral and regular sex.

"Cathy, lower your voice or they are going to throw us out of here. I
love you. I've never been unfaithful and, even if you have, I want to
work this out."

"The only thing to work out, TINY tallywacker, is how much time with
the kids you get and how much you're willing to pay for it." She was
panting now in real anger. Showing restraint, controlling my temper was
making her lose both!

She did however lower her voice and hissed, "Well, are you willing to
come home and suck a real man's cum out of me for the right to see your
kids?"

I clenched my jaw and said as coldly as I could, "Have the kids been in
the house when you've entertained your 'real man.'"

She was nonplussed for a second, then sneered, "Of course they were. I
just told them I'd found a happy machine when they heard me cum."

"Cathy, I heard you make arrangements for him to pick you up. I'm going
home now. I'll help you move out tomorrow. I will not allow that sort of
behavior in front my children. I think that all future conversations
will be through our lawyers."

Her face contorted into a mask of pure evil, "I'm going to take you for
everything. It won't be enough to make up for years of pretending, but
what do you expect from such a little man. I'm going to marry Mike.
He's 6'1", a pediatrician and he can afford the best. If you try to
fight for the kids, I'll bankrupt you."

I clicked off the recording and said very softly, "I can't believe
you're this stupid. I know you're going for the money but don't you
realize that any man who would cheat like this with you will do the
same on you? He's not going to fight very hard for kids he doesn't want
and if he does marry you, I'll bet you ten thousand dollars it doesn't
last two years."

I stood and walked to the maitre 'd. I gave him my credit card and told
him to be sure and run it immediately because I would be canceling it in
ten minutes. Cathy had already gathered her stuff and had sashayed out
the door when the manager brought me the receipt. He was an
acquaintance whom I'd met at the local restaurant association meetings.
He gave me a sympathetic look, then whispered, "I'm sorry. I couldn't
help but overhe?r. Do you know that the best divorce lawyer in Austin
is dining here tonight. She's trying hard to be invisible but let me
suggest you might want to visit with her before you leave. It's almost
impossible to get her at her office."

I was still in shock. I hadn't considered what I was going to do but
the manager nodded at a smartly dressed couple seated at a table next
to where we'd been eating. He looked old enough to be her father but
she was about my age. I recognized her. She had taken one of my
friends, Jim Thomas, to the cleaners more thoroughly than that old song
about "she got the gold mine and I got the shaft."

Feeling my stare she glanced up, gave me a sympathetic look but her
body language also said, "please don't bother me at dinner." I wasn't
deterred. I pulled out a business card and slid it on her table and
said, "I don't want to ruin any more of your dinner, but I would like
to visit with you as soon as you can work me into your schedule."

She sighed deeply and said, "I'm very expensive..."

I nodded and interrupted, "I know but my friend, Jim Thomas, learned
it's even more expensive to have you sitting at the other table."

"Do you have any cash on you?" she asked cryptically

I never carry cash, I looked in my billfold and found I had a newly
broken twenty. She reached in and took my ten, leaving me a couple of
ones, and said, "Okay, you've hired me. Now go home, continue to hold
your temper and do NOT let her push you out of the house. I'll be there
as soon as I finish dinner. I hate to see ambushes set up the way this
one was. Do you know who her lawyer is?"

"I didn't know we were in trouble. I didn't know she was having an
affair. I set this up to tell her that I just sold my books..."

"Have you signed a contract yet?"

"No, I just got word..."

"Don't sign until I tell you too. You don't need that to become
community property. Dad, will you take care of this. George here needs
my help. You don't remember me, do you, George?"

I looked at her again, I knew that I'd seen her but, aside from Jim's
divorce, I didn't think we'd ever met. Austin doesn't have a huge
social scene but it does have some divisions. Politics, lawyers and the
like tend to run in a different crowd than the high tech group I used to
hang with. For the last three years, I hadn't been out much. I
recognized her but I was still trying to pull up her name.

Seeing my effort she smiled and said, "I'm Kristin Harris. We were in
Plan II and McCombs together. There weren't very many of us in both. I
thought you might remember."

Grabbing my arm and leading me out of the restaurant, she asked, "Where
are you parked?" I pointed to my newly battered SUV, which I could now
see had at least two flat tires.

"They really aren't playing fair, are they? Are your kids at home?"

I said they were as she guided me to her car and drove... well, like a
bat out of hell to my house.

When we arrived she had to give me money for the babysitter and told me
to go to my computer and begin closing my accounts and transferring cash
to my business accounts. "That's still community property, but to drain
that account could constitute a crime and I don't think her lawyer will
allow that. I'll wait for the happy couple to get here."

I was just finishing when Kristin found me, "They weren't as
well-coached as they should have been. I think they jumped the gun.
They were planning this for later but decided tonight was just too good
to pass up. They just made a big mistake when they left the house
together. I want you to call a locksmith and have all the locks changed
tonight. Disable the garage door opener and do you have anyone you trust
completely to take care of your kids?"

I thought for a second and said, "My sister lives in Georgetown, it'll
take a half hour to drive up there. She's on staff at Scott and White
Clinic in Temple. I'd trust her..."

"Great, how old is your youngest?"

"Cindy will be three in a month, Josh is almost five. He'll start
kindergarten in the fall."

"Scott and White is a mighty prestigious outfit. What does your sister
do up t?ere?"

"She's a neonatal specialist. She's just finished her residency at John
Hopkins and has a son Cindy's age."

"Great! Get that locksmith out here ASAP and do you think your sister
would drop everything and come at this time of night?"

I was chagrinned, "Let's just say Cathy wasn't one of her favorite
people, she won't drive quite as fast as you did, but she'll be here
with bells on--and while she'll never say it aloud, more than one 'I
told you so.'"

Kristin's face soften, "It's shit like this that keeps me from getting
married. I guess I'm inured after all this time, but I... Look would it
offend you if I prayed for you?"

Taken aback, I looked at Kristin as a person for the first time. She
was one of the good guys. I gave her a nervous nod, and she continued,
"I suspect those two are going to call it a night, but if they contact
their lawyer, your wife is going to hot foot it back here so we can't
claim desertion. I pulled a pretty big bluff. I told them that you
didn't want either of them in the house and told them you said you
would call the police if they attempted to enter. I did manage to drag
something close to that out of you on the way over, but you really have
no grounds to deny access to the marital home unless she leaves it."

When I'm under stress I crack bad jokes, "They way you drive, I would
have offered half my kingdom to get you to slow down."

She gave me one of those 'looks' women seem to learn in the womb,
ignored my humor and continued, "They're being a combination of smart
and stupid, so that's why I'm betting they're operating on their own.
I'm pretty sure I know the slimy 'attorney' who advised them and I've
never heard a lawyer joke that did him justice. If they were following
his instructions, he would have been at the restaurant, along with a
photographer. Bottom line is, if she leaves for the night, you might
have a case for desertion."

My sister arrived, marveled at my restraint, offered a few choice
comments about Cathy she'd been holding for years, before she took the
kids home with her. The locksmith showed up and changed the locks and
the code for the garage door. Kristin connected to her office computer
from mine, printed up some papers and had me sign them. She also had me
sign her contract. I shuddered at what I'd already spent this evening.
It was only as she was leaving that I remembered to give her the
recording of what Cathy had said to me. Have you ever seen a shark
smile? It isn't pretty, even if it's your shark.

The divorce was ugly and expensive. Cathy got more than I thought she
deserved but I got full physical custody of the kids. She didn't even
get visitation privileges although I did agree, informally, to give her
full access to them whenever she wanted as long as she gave notice and
kept them on my property.

The day we walked out of court, I had everything packed and we were off
to Ireland. I rented a small, isolated cottage near a tiny village on
the west coast near Doolin. The best place in the world if you're a fan
of traditional Irish music. I enrolled the kids in the local school, and
established myself in the local pubs. One nice thing about being a
writer is that we can work anywhere and write off living in weird
places as a tax expense--research on local color, don't you know?

It took Cathy and a ton of her new husband's money almost six months to
locate me. When she called, I agreed immediately to have the kids
available for her visit but I warned her that we had just finished
packing all our stuff and were moving in the morning. The household
goods were already gone. I told her she might want to wait until we
were settled in our new home. I told her I would notify her as soon we
were settled. How long does it take to get to settled? I figured it
would be about the same amount of time as it would take her to locate
me. I hung up before I remembered to tell here where we were moving.

In the meantime, I'd written a bestseller. No, it didn't get to be #1
but it did make it to the next to last spot on the NY Times bestseller
list for one week. It wa? about an Austin pediatrician who was a secret
pedophile. He was a horrible creature and one reviewer said my doctor
was one of the all time classic villains. For some reason, Cathy's
husband, the pediatrician, lost a significant portion of his practice
right after the book became a hit. He was forced to abandon his
practice and move to Lubbock where he joined the staff of the medical
school.

Three months later, Cathy and even more of her husband's money again
located me. We had moved to the wilds of the Scottish Highlands about a
hundred miles north of Inverness, not far from John 'O Groat. I
apologized for not having contacted her sooner but explained that just
when we were almost settled, I found that I had an allergy and we were
in the process of moving again. The house was packed and we were
leaving that very afternoon. I was going to tour the Algarve to find a
suitable place. I promised to contact her as soon as we were settled
in. After I hung up, I realized that I hadn't had an allergy problem in
Ireland and besides they spoke English there. I thought I might try a
small town on the southern coast this time.

One nice thing about being a "best-selling author doing local research
on a remote place," is that strangers stand out. Locals, leery of most
strangers will accept eccentric writers and will let them know if
someone starts asking questions. I'd had almost a full week's warning
in Scotland, for example.

My next book also hit the bestseller list (3rd from the bottom and
stayed there for two weeks) it was about a nefarious pedophile
pediatrics professor from Austin who had secured a job at a medical
school in Lubbock. This evil man was also performing unauthorized
experiments on his students that left them sterile and impotent.

By a strange coincidence, it seems that Cathy's husband, the
pediatrician, decided he didn't want to work in a medical school or on
their relationship. He joined the public health service. By another
strange coincidence, I had just about decided that my next book might
be about a scandal concerning a pedophile ex-medical school professor
now working in the public health service. There's an old expression
about never picking a fight with a organization that buys ink by the
barrel. Or was it that the pen is mightier than the sword?

I did keep in touch with Austin though. This vicious divorce lawyer had
started flying in to see us when I was living in Ireland the first time.
She followed me to Scotland and then back to Ireland. She was worse than
Jimmy Cricket. I listened to endless arguments about keeping the kids
from their mother. Except she never phrased it that way. She'd just
talk about cases she was working where the mother had ducked out,
isolating the kids from a good daddy. I'm not stupid, and I'd get
perturbed with her. But Lordy, that woman's kisses made my toes tingle.
After a year or so, the sultry way she said 'Hello' on the phone was
almost enough to cause a premature ejaculation. Or maybe it was that
I'd kept in my pants the whole time. At first I just had no interest in
women, but Kristin got under my skin. What sort of character flaw do I
have that attracts women who don't believe in pre-marital sex? I'm just
glad Kristin used the same definition that Cathy had.

Almost eighteen months after my divorce, I returned to Austin. Kristin
had finally put her foot down. I knew she hated Cathy, but she said
what I was doing with the kids was immoral... and she wouldn't get
engaged to an immoral man. She said, "I make a lot of money from men
trying to be a daddy to their kids when the wife and her new love move
off to Timbuktu. I think that's evil! It doesn't look any better when a
man does it. Your game is cute, and I don't care what you do to that
bitch, but she will always be their mother. We can't change that. You
are within your legal rights but is it moral?"

She had me and she knew it. It's not any prettier when that shark's
smile is accompanied by gloating.

I'd like to think I responded solely to Kristin's moral arguments, but
it might have been the comment that he? biological clock was giving her
fits, and she insisted her kids were going to be born and raised as
Texans! I proposed at a castle I'd rented for a weekend visit. We were
married at her childhood church near El Paso.

The moving company truck had just backed into the driveway of our new
house, on the lake in Austin, when Cathy called on my cell phone. She
was desperate and crying. She was begging me to let her see her
children. I guess some of my anger had dissipated, or perhaps I was
getting mellow in my old age. Then again, it might have been the look I
was getting from Kristin. I agreed to let her see the kids and thirty
seconds later she knocked on the door.

I wasn't really surprised. It had been a long game of cat and mouse but
she knew who to thank that I wasn't playing it any more. When I opened
the door, I said, "Here are the ground rules. You will be monitored
electronically. First, if you say one bad thing about me, I'll move to
Timbuktu and you'll never see them again. Second, if I get the faintest
whiff of any action on your part to challenge custody, we're gone.
However, if you follow my rules, I'll let you be a part of their lives
from this point forward. I'll try to help you repair your relationship
with them. You can attend all their games and school activities. Do you
agree? Yes or no, that's the last word I ever want to hear from you."

With tears in her eyes she nodded and said, "Yes." Then turned to
Kristin and mouthed "Thank you."

I have to confess, I'd felt a pretty rotten about poisoning the kids'
feelings for her. I wasn't proud of what they said to her when she
joined them in our new back yard. Kids can be so cruel. However she
kept her word and after about six months it was about as good for them
as a divorce can be. It's always hard, but Cathy has changed too. She
had started teaching kindergarten, she's totally devoted to all her
kids and she has abided by all my rules, including never saying another
word to me. She even seemed content living on her modest salary. The
really funny thing is that it's clear to anyone who knows Cathy that
she's in love... with me. Cathy is one of those women whose love needs
a strong man. It's just too bad she didn't know she'd married one.

Me? For some reason I've continued to mellow, a shark can be very
persuasive, especially when they give you that special smile...
husbands, you know the one.

Kristin and I are now expecting our second child. I've learned how
wonderful a marriage of equal partners can be. Most of all I've learned
how a strong woman's love can make a man a better person. Happy is so
inadequate a word to describe what we have. Who would have guessed that
I'd learn to love a shark's smile?


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                          The End

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