Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Changing Destinations



   By the Troubador



   As usual, don't read a Troubador story if you are looking for sex.  This
is different from my usual story, but I think you'll know the people I'm
writing about, like some of them and dislike others.

   _ _ _ _ _ _

   "Dammit!  Another big week planned with Susan, another 'emergency' call
from the boss!" thought Darwin as he hefted his big portmanteau in one
hand, his suitcase in the other.  Out of hands he swung his hips against
the door from the kitchen to the garage.  It crashed open, rebounding off
the stops and coming back hard, catching him on the shoulder.  When he got
back home he was fixing that damned catch.  He just wasn't getting enough
time at home with his family to do routine chores.

   Shoving his bags in the trunk of the Ford Taurus Darwin slammed the
trunk then yanked the driver's door open.  It swung out hard, catching his
new BMW and nicking the paint.  Just his luck, if he had to ding a car he'd
rather it was the company Ford he was driving than his beloved Beemer. 
Settling behind the wheel he stewed over his loss of control at the
unfairness of the world.

   Cursing softly over the damage to his Beemer he keyed open the garage
door and pulled out onto his driveway.  As he turned onto the street he
looked hard at the front door, then up at the window to the master bedroom.
Susan wasn't at the front door to see him off, but he thought he saw the
curtains twitch in the bedroom window.  He hoped his wife had simmered down
enough to at least watch him leave on another god damned weeklong trouble
shooting trip.  If she had, she hadn't waved to him as he drove off.

   The phone had rung just before nine this morning, just late enough not
to interrupt their morning nookie.  But not late enough to allow Susan to
fully bask in the after sex glow she so enjoyed.  "Me too!" he thought.

   Darwin had promised her a big night on the town tonight, Saturday, and
then they were leaving for their cabin on the lake tomorrow morning.  It
was already August and they hadn't been to the lake one time all summer. 
She was mad, he was disgusted, and the equipment at the Houston plant had
taken a siesta.  He hoped to hell he could get it running without another
week there.  The last time in Houston it had been a three week job.  He
couldn't seem to get it through the plant manager's head that routine
maintenance wasn't money better spent for something that looked pretty.

   "God damn it to hell, anyway!" he thought.  "Houston in August!  And the
wife thinks this is some kind of pleasure trip!  I should have taken her
with me."

   This was the third emergency jaunt already this summer.  It was no
wonder Susan was pissed.  Hell!  It pissed him off too.

   In a way he was glad to miss the evening out.  Susan had planned it with
her best friend Darla and Darla's husband.  He liked Darla well enough; she
was funny and smart to go with her model's looks and shiny cap of blonde
hair.  Darla alongside his petite Susan with her curly hair made quite a
picture.  But her asshole, leech of a husband, Randy, was something else
again.

   The son of a bitch was always making passes at Susan.  He did it when
Darwin was there and it didn't seem to matter if Darla was there.  Darwin
casually mentioned to Randy the last time they were out that the next time
he caught his hands on his wife's ass while they were dancing he'd break
that hand.  He was a big, sloppy ex-college football player, a linebacker,
and laughed at Darwin.

   Well, it would be a pleasure to demonstrate how it could be done.

   A thought hit him hard.  He had assumed Susan would cancel the evening
out.  He hadn't discussed it with Susan.  He wouldn't want her out with
that bastard, even with Darla there with them.  Susan was angry enough to
make it a night on the town without him.

   Things hadn't been going well in the marriage of late.  Susan was
talking of kids, and he liked that idea.  But he wanted to be there to
coach his girl's softball team or his son's little league team.  And he
wanted to do more than hear about his kids daring-do on the soccer pitch.
The hours he worked wouldn't allow it.  Susan was getting really impatient;
she wanted kids.  The way the money was piling up, with investments and
bonuses, it wouldn't be long before he could afford to thumb his nose at a
nine to five job.  Hell, he hadn't seen a forty hour week since the Truman
administration, and his parents hadn't been born then.

   "Well, dammit!  That was just too bad!" he fumed as he drove.  He had
promised his wife these hours would be a thing of the past when he had his
nest egg!  She just had to be patient, that's all.

   A thought snuck up and hit him.  He hated when they did that!  He hadn't
checked his "author's account" at the bank.  He had been writing smutty
romance crap for an ebook publisher under the nym, "Dee Troubador." The
royalties and what not he had going into an account in his name.  He was
planning to surprise Susan with it one of these days, but she knew noting
about it to date.  The balance was getting impressive.  Not what a real
author might get, but pretty good for an amateur part time writer.

   The money hadn't been touched, just sat there earning minimum interest.
Truth be told, he loved writing, even if it was hard work, but he was
embarrassed at the genre.  He wrote Romances.  He liked the damn things,
liked to read them and liked to write them, but in the back of his head he
thought it was sissy for a guy to read them, much less write them.  "Hell,"
he thought, "I even disguised my nym so women would think its author was a
woman."

   According to the clock he had plenty of time to make the plane.  He'd go
see how much was in the account.  Swinging right at the next intersection
he headed to his branch bank.  Pulling through the drive-thru window he
used his bankcard to access his "authors account."

   "Holy SHIT!" came out of his mouth before he could stop it.  The money
had been coming through steadily and over the last year he had a
respectable balance.  But the damn thing had suddenly exploded, more than
tripled in value.  Thinking back he realized he hadn't looked at it since
January, and his adventure-romance had come out in February.  Then he'd put
the finishing touches on a long-in-the-hopper pure romance.  Keerist!  He
had over a third of a million sitting there.  Their investments, savings
and bank account came to more than that, but they had grown over time. 
This was unreal.  He had enough capital to quit and live well off the
interest if he was careful and frugal.  And he didn't plan to stop writing.

   Pulling back onto the road his mind was racing a mile a minute.  "Son of
a gun!  I don't have to be in Houston until tomorrow afternoon.  The only
reason I'm leaving tonight is the boss's insistence." Darwin wouldn't be in
the plant until late tomorrow, he'd just be rotting in the hotel.  And
nothing was going to be done until Monday even then.  His bastard boss just
wanted to show HIS boss how on top of things his department was.

   "Fuck it!" he said, "I'm going to take Susan out tonight anyway. 
Pulling into a 7/11 store he called the airline on his cell phone and
changed his first class ticket to tomorrow afternoon.  "That'll give me
time to sober up," he chuckled.

   Driving slowly, anticipating the pleasure of breaking the news to Susan,
it was an hour and a half after he had pulled out of the house before he
was back home.  The shadows were getting long as he pulled into his garage.

   Tossing the door open, he remembered and made a panic grab at the door
to keep it from slamming into his BMW.  But son of a bitch, the Beemer
wasn't there!  Susan's Volvo was in its nook, but his Beemer was gone.

   - - - -

   Susan was truly, deep down livid-mad as she peeked through the curtain
watching Darwin drive off.  She'd warned the son-of-a-bitch he had better
not do this to her again!  She wanted a real family life, with kids and
all. Her asshole husband just wanted to climb the corporate ladder.

   "Well, fuck the dumb bastard!" she thought as she stripped her clothes
off to take a shower.  She was going out tonight with or without the
son-of-a-bitch.

   Snatching up the phone she called Darla.  "Hey, sweetie, everything on
for tonight?" she asked.

   "Absofuckinglutely," Darla answered.  Reservations are made, I'm hot to
trot and Randy's getting dressed as I speak."

   "Hold that thought, sweetie," Susan answered.  "My asshole husband took
off for Houston of all ungodly places to go in August.  But I'm heading to
the shower and will be ready in record time.  Hey!  I'll meet you at your
place and we can ride to the restaurant together.  See you in thirty
minutes, OK?  Bring that hunky husband with you.  See you there!"

   Darla agreed, the two women 'made-nice' and hung up.

   Moments later Susan was rinsing her short, blonde curly hair under the
shower.  It came down just to her ears, the curls giving her the "just out
of bed" look.  Darwin really liked it.  Angry with her husband she watched
the bubbles slip down her nice cleavage, over her taut tummy and catch in
her bush.  Leaning back she washed it off her front, then used a washcloth
to soap her nicely firm breasts, paying extra attention to her nipples.  It
felt good, and she was proud of the way her big nipples poked out when
aroused.

   Making quick work of cleaning her privates and back she shut off the
water and grabbed one of the big bath sheets.  In moments she was studying
her wardrobe to decide what to wear.  She was ticked off enough at Darwin
to want to look truly sexy tonight.  Hell, she might even do something
about it for once.  He'd never find out about it, and she had it coming. 
Until the bastard gave her that kid, she wouldn't feel like a married lady
anyway.  So anything that happened was on his own head.  She giggled at the
unintended double entendre.

   Snatching the blouse and skirt she planned to wear she turned to the
dresser.  She wanted to not only look sexy, but feel daring too.  She
pulled out her red "almost" panties with all the lace and their matching
half-bra that held her up but left her nipples bare to poke.

   "Kind of nice being able to dress this way for Randy," she thought. 
"Randy was getting too open in his moves in front of Darwin.  Maybe we can
'talk' or something and get him to back off in front of Darwin." She
giggled for a moment; "Randy's going to get surprised one of these days
when Dar takes him to the cleaners.  The big oaf has no idea what my little
man can do," she thought.  "Or my little man's BIG man?" giggling again. 
"It's going to be tough changing into a soccer mom," she thought.  "But I'm
looking forward to it.  I'm going to be a good mom."

   In under an hour later she was dressed and gussied up, had left a
message on the answering machine and was climbing into the Beemer to meet
Randy and Darla.  She loved the Volvo, but tonight was a "Beemer" night.

   - - - -

   Walking into the house half an hour later Darwin called Susan's name,
but got no answer.  He hadn't expected one.  Picking up the phone, he
punched in the code to listen to the answering machine message.  His wife
thought he was now on an airplane to Houston, and if she was going out
she'd leave a message for him on the answering machine.  Susan's voice came
through, sweet and friendly, "Hi, folks.  We're not available at the
moment, but we'll get to you first thing tomorrow.  Darwin, honey.  If it's
you, I am with Darla for a few hours.  Talk to you tomorrow.  Ta ta."

   "Jesus, she couldn't even wait until next weekend.  Well, hell!" he
thought, "I'm here now and damned if I'm going to wander around the house
until she gets home sometime tonight."

   Taking a few minutes to sluice off in the shower, he pulled his travel
suit back on.  He had no idea why he did that; it just seemed the thing to
do.

   He was at the restaurant where they had been planning to start the
evening within minutes of their scheduled reservation.  Surveying the room,
he spotted Susan and her friends in a secluded nook in a back corner of the
restaurant.  They were sitting at a window, separated from the rest of the
main dining area with a fern-planting box.  He wouldn't have found them
there if he hadn't been sure they were here someplace.

   He started heading that way when the seating arrangement stopped him. 
Randy was sitting against the outside wall with Darla on one side of him,
Susan on the other.  Randy had an arm around each woman's shoulder.  He was
whispering something in one woman's ear, than turning his head to whisper
in the other's ear.  He couldn't tell from where he was standing but it
looked like the son of a bitch was tonguing an ear along with the whispers.
Son of a bitch was going to pay for that.

   Watching Randy's arm around his wife, the hand absently playing with the
collar of her nearly translucent cream silk blouse he stopped.  If he
walked over there he wouldn't be able to stop himself from throwing the man
out of the restaurant.  Hardly the scene he wanted to make and not a way to
make Susan glad he showed up.  Watching the three he suddenly realized she
was wearing her red demi-bra under that white blouse.  Jesus!  Up close it
must shine through like a beacon!

   As he watched, the server carried the trio's drinks over from the bar.
They must have just been seated.  Randy's glass was half full, as was
Darla's.  Susan's glass was near empty and as he watched she sent the
waiter off to get her a fresh drink while they studied the menu.

   The drink looked like one of her favorites, a strawberry daiquiri.  As
Darwin watched she drank half of it down before sitting it back on the
table.  Darwin headed for the bar, taking a seat at one end where he was
inconspicuous yet could see what was going on at the trio's table.  With
his drink order, he asked the bartender to bring him a club sandwich.

   Darwin stewed at the bar, eating his sandwich and sipping his scotch and
soda while watching the scene behind the ferns.  He could hardly believe it
but before the dinners arrived Randy had a hand inside each girl's blouse.
Darla made no fuss, acting as if her husband feeling up her best friend was
old news.

   Maybe it was.

   By the time dinner was over Susan had slurped down two more daiquiris
and was obviously tight and giggly.  Randy didn't seem to be feeling the
drinks he had downed and Darla seemed perfectly sober.  Knowing her,
however, Darwin was sure she was at least a mite tiddly also.  Darla had to
be pretty far gone before anyone noticed.

   After dinner the group had an aperitif, looked like a Brandy Alexander
from where Darwin sat.  When the check came Darwin was disgusted to see his
wife grab the bill, pull a credit card from her purse and apparently pay
the whole bill.  Randy the tight wad made no effort to pick it up himself.
Instead, Darwin would be paying for his wife's night on the town while he
was supposedly out of town.  He began to wonder if this was routine while
he was off sweating because some fool didn't believe in oiling the
machinery.

   "That's just like him," Darwin thought, but wondered about Susan footing
the bill.  It had to be over a hundred bucks in this restaurant.

   When the girls got up to go the powder room, Darwin hunched over his
drink, taking care they wouldn't notice him.  They were giggling and having
too good a time to even notice he was there.

   After they passed him he turned around to watch the two of them walking
away.  Darwin did a double take.  "Holy bananas, Susan put that red skirt
away last year.  She said it was too tight for comfort and decency and way
too short for an old married lady.  She had been weeding things out of her
closet that she didn't think a proper wife and good mother would wear.  She
had been right, too.  The damned thing only reached halfway down her
thighs. She couldn't possibly sit down in public without giving a show.  If
she hadn't been sitting behind the table for dinner she would have been
giving the room a good show.  What in hell was she doing wearing it out? 
Not only wearing it out but without her husband in tow!  Dammit, if I bend
over I can get a crotch shot!"

   Before the girls came out he had paid his bill and exited to his car. 
Sitting in the company Ford he watched the three tipsy friends climb into
his Beemer.  That pissed him off, too.  It was his goddamned car!  He
didn't want Randy the ass hole to drive it.

   Sure as God made little green apples, when the Beemer left the parking
lot Randy was driving, Susan sitting beside him and Darla in the back seat.
Darwin fell in right behind them making no effort to hide he was following
them.  He didn't care if they knew; he was royally ticked.  Anyway they'd
drunk too much to notice him following unless he rear-ended his own car.

   There seemed to be an energetic discussion in the Beemer, ending with
the women high-fiving one another and Randy turning the car and heading
into the less respectable section of town.

   After parking the Beemer on the street the three went "window shopping"
at an X-rated movie triplex.  Parking just ahead of the Beemer Darwin
watched until the trio made up their minds what movie to watch and Susan
stepped up to buy the tickets.  Randy wasn't spending a dime on the evening
out, his 'good buddy' Darwin was paying for it all.  Darwin was even paying
for Randy to take his wife into a porn theatre!

   Darwin strolled up the street after them and was close enough to hear
his wife tell the cashier which movie they wanted tickets to see.  To his
amazement none of the three noticed him just feet behind them as they
headed into the theatre.

   Watching Randy's hands going from one woman's bottom to the next in
constant rotation Darwin got himself a ticket to the same movie.

   Following them into the theatre, he stepped through the curtain at the
door of the one showing, "Three men and a Babe!" The theatre was almost
empty.  Not giving a flying fuck if he was recognized, Darwin pushed
through the curtain right after them.  Darla even turned to see who was
crowding in behind them.  But in the dark theater with Darwin standing
between her and the light he was just a shape and she didn't recognize her
friends husband.

   It was all Darwin could do to keep from cold-cocking the bastard Randy
and turning each of the two women over his knee.  If it would have remedied
anything he would have done it.  Instead he kept swallowing to keep his
gorge from rising and stood watching the three ahead of him.

   The trio stood looking over the nearly empty theater uncertain where to
sit until Randy lifted each woman's skirt and goosed them.  Stopping at a
row of seats about half way down he pushed Susan in to sidle ahead of him.
The asshole had his hand underneath Susan's skirt playing with her ass. 
Randy pulled his wife after him, his hand holding a handful of her bottom
under her short skirt.  They stopped in the middle of the row and sat down,
a woman on either side of Randy.

   Darwin slid into the row behind the trio, sitting right behind Randy. 
The three snuggled in, the girls crowding over to the seat Randy was in,
laying their heads on his shoulders.  The son of a bitch wasted not a
moment, nor did he make any attempt to disguise his actions.  Before they
were well seated he had both Susan's and Darla's skirts rucked up to their
waists and a hand inside each pair of panties.

   On the screen a hard, brassy blonde was knocking on the door to an
apartment.  While she waited at the door she adjusted her bra, obviously
playing with her oversized, man made tits and letting the audience see each
tit in turn.  Then she pulled up her skirt to adjust her garter belt.

   Sitting behind Susan and her friends Darwin was flabbergasted to see
Susan had put her purse down on the seat next to her.  He leaned forward
and picked it up.  Getting more upset and angry by the moment, Darwin sat
back and watched the actions of the three in front of him, tuning out the
porno film on the screen.

   Randy had a difficult but pleasant chore.  He had to work each woman's
panties down off her legs with no assistance from the women.  Well, there
was no resistance, either.  As Darwin watched over his shoulder Randy
inserted a hand down the front of each woman's lacy under garment.  Within
moments of achieving that goal his hands began to move up and down each
crotch.  Soon Randy had a finger on each woman's clit.  It didn't take any
deep thinking on Darwin's part to know this was hardly the first time that
hand had been welcomed by his wife.  Each minute of watching the bastard's
hand in his wife's crotch seemed like an hour.  Very soon the women were
moaning softly and writhing in their seats.  First one, than the other pair
of panties was pushed below their owner's knees where they dropped to their
ankles.

   Randy had leaned forward for that evolution, but when he leaned back his
middle fingers began working on each woman's slit simultaneously.  Each
woman was now leaning back in the seat, her legs wide, her ass pushed
forward to the edge of the seat, opening her sex to the bastard diddling
them.

   Sitting behind them Darwin could see each woman was gushing her juice
over Randy's hands and onto the theatre seats.  Seeing that, he looked down
to give the seat he was in a close inspection.  Satisfied his lounge seat
was dry, he returned his eyes to the three in front of him.  As he watched
Randy's middle fingers disappeared, each inside a different woman.

   On the screen the cheesy blonde was moaning, groaning and writhing as
three different men were working her over.  One was finger fucking her, the
second was playing with her tits and the third man had his erection out and
was trying to feed it into the woman's mouth.  It was a prodigious erection
and an amazing feat when it began to disappear into her mouth and then down
her throat.

   Sitting behind his wife and her 'date' for the evening Darwin had gone
beyond the sick feeling in his gut, well beyond the white-hot anger that
had filled him as he began watching the sick behavior of his wife.

   Now he was in an ice-cold fury.  Before he had been a hairs breadth from
losing complete control, Darwin now had the control of hate.  There would
be no sudden suicidal attack; but no forgiveness either.  His wife had
chosen this tonight.  As soon as he was gone she had arranged for Darla and
her husband to go out with her tonight.  She had not only gone out, which
would have angered him in itself.  He could have understood that, but still
been angered.  The bitch was now playing the slut-whore.  This was the
woman who had been nagging him to give her a child.  She claimed she wanted
to raise his baby.

   Not in this lifetime, bitch.

   Remembering one of the things Susan always carried in her purse he dug
into it to pull out her small canister of pepper spray.  Things had gone on
far enough.  Certain as he was that the familiarity of Randy with his
wife's body was not a first time thing, he couldn't take any more.

   Leaning forward he shoved his head and an arm between Randy's head and
Susan's.  It was a close fit and he crudely knocked both heads away to give
him room.  First he turned to whisper in Susan's ear, "Think I'll head home
bitch.  The doors will be locked, so find someplace else for the night."

   Susan's eyes got big as she turned to look at the face next to hers. 
Drunk as she was it took her a moment to process what had been said and who
had said it.  By the time she had it was too late, immediate retribution
had already been given.

   The hand Darwin had pushed through between Randy and Susan held the
pepper spray.  Reaching down he gave Susan's hot, juicy, wet slit a longish
spray of the painful irritant.  It was designed for eyes, but worked well
on any wet, sensitive tissue; such as a wide-open vagina.

   Not waiting for Susan's reaction, he reached across Randy to give
Darla's gash similar treatment.  Then as he leaned back, pulling his head
and arm out from between the agonized Susan he gave Randy two long sprays,
one in each eye.

   Susan was now gasping, doubled over with the pain as the spray acted on
her most tender of places.  Darwin leaned forward again, "I'm taking my
Beemer home, but you won't be coming back to the house anyway.  Good by,
bitch." Then he dropped her purse and the pepper spray into her lap.

   Side stepping along the aisle he watched both women leaning over,
cupping their crotches.  They hurt too much to make much noise, certainly
not enough to be heard over the movie soundtrack.  Randy had yanked both
hands roughly out of the tender centers of the women and was frantically
clawing at his tearing eyes.  Each hand was soaked with vaginal juice which
of itself would have burned his eyes, but they were also covered with the
spray.  Every wipe of his hands delivered more pepper spray and female
lubricant to his eyes.

   Randy was making a noise but it was still barely heard over the loud
soundtrack.  He was keening while he rocked back and forth in the seat.

   Outside Darwin strode to his Ford, and looked around.  Just down the
street was a lighted, attended parking lot advertising twenty-four hour
surveillance.  Driving the Ford there he left it and walked back to the
Beemer.  As he approached a couple punks were looking it over, one of them
holding a short length of pipe down alongside his leg where he thought it
was hidden.

   Both of the creeps looked him over carefully as he walked toward them
trying to look nonchalant as he approached.  As he got to them he paused,
took a step toward them and asked if they knew where Alex's Pawnshop was.
He had seen it as he drove in.

   The punks looked at one another and Darwin could see the slow cogs in
their heads working hard against whatever they had been taking tonight.

   "Sure, dude," the one with the pipe started as his buddy broke into a
grin and reached in his pocket.  Not wanting to delay things, Darwin kneed
the pipe wielder in the groin.  The knee drove upward, raising him off the
ground a foot as he rode the knee up into the air.  The pain hit him,
knocking the wind from him.  By the time he landed on his side he was
nearly comatose with pain.  Without turning Darwin swung his left hand in a
backhand swing; his fingers outthrust and together in what martial artists
called "the knife." He couldn't be careful but hoped he hadn't killed the
asshole as he swiped it across the punk's larynx.  As the street punk was
falling to the ground his hands flew to his throat.  The brass knuckles he
had slipped over them fell onto the street.

   Snatching up the brass knuckles, Darwin hauled the two punks away from
his Beemer then dropped them on the sidewalk.  The kid he'd busted in the
larynx seemed to be breathing without too much difficulty so he probably
hadn't killed him.  At the moment he wouldn't have cared if he had.

   Climbing into the Beemer he pulled immediately away from the curb and
into the street.  Traffic was light and he was around the next corner
before either punk knew he was gone.  He didn't think anyone had seen him,
but even if they had, in this part of town no one would say a thing.

   It was an uneventful drive home, where he locked the Beemer in the
garage and closed and locked the doors and all the windows into the house.
Turning off all lights, he went to bed.

   He didn't sleep much with the cold fury still on him.  He knew better
than to take a drink feeling the way he was and it took another hour before
the adrenaline had worked itself out of his system.

   The sun coming up ended his night of brooding.  He had loved Susan, but
the woman he had seen last night hadn't been the Susan he knew.  It was a
new facet to Susan, one he couldn't live with.  If he tried to preserve the
marriage he would always be aware of what she was capable of doing.  He
wanted kids, but that was not a woman he wanted mothering his children. 
What if they had a couple girls?  The thought alone almost had him puking
into the ceramic altar.

   In the light of day Darwin made a phone transfer of the money in their
checking account into their savings account.  He left only enough to pay
for two months of routine monthly expenses.  He made several phone calls to
credit card companies and other money handlers of theirs, then called a
taxi.

   The cab left him off a mile away from where the Ford was parked, a
comfortable and safe walk at 8:00 o'clock on a Sunday morning.  Paying the
attendant, he headed to the airport.

   - - - -

   The flight back from Houston Thursday was uneventful, and a day earlier
than had been planned.  From the airport he drove immediately to work to
meet with his boss.  There he handed the man his resignation.

   That got the anthill moving.

   Darwin had always valued his contributions to the company, but never
believed the company placed a value on his services.  That changed with a
bang.

   When he tried to hand in his resignation his boss asked him politely to
wait for him while he checked with personnel.  Twenty minutes later Darwin
found himself in the CEO's office negotiating as the CEO worked to find
what it would cost the company to keep him.  He finally agreed to stay with
a new title, "Vice President of Corporate Maintenance" and a thirty-five
per cent raise.  He would have carte blanche to inspect every one of the
company's facilities and would head up a small staff.  It had been accepted
before his return.  Darwin had been complaining bitterly that constant
repairs were costing the company twice what regular maintenance would cost.
Somehow over the years factory managers had constantly reduced maintenance
costs to the point that down time alone was more expensive than keeping
everything fit.

   From that point on he would be the one contacted when something went
Kablooey.  And he would be the one seeing that the factory equipment was
kept current.  He anticipated his emergency trips would soon be a thing of
the past.  He would be traveling extensively the rest of the year seeing
the reforms he wanted were carried out, then he anticipated staying close
to home.

   When he arrived home in the Taurus Susan was out.  Darwin immediately
began packing his clothes in the boxes he had picked up on the way home. 
Before he was finished with the bedroom the movers he had contacted pulled
into the driveway and immediately began hauling the boxes to the truck.

   It didn't take all that long for him to go through the house and have
the men pack the things he wanted to keep.  In the future he would remember
this experience.  He had been pack ratting away anything and everything
that looked interesting; never again.

   By 3:00 he was done and the truck just pulled away when Susan turned
into the driveway in her Volvo.  She left it in the driveway and wasn't
aware he had made it home until she walked into the kitchen, saw a man in
her house drinking coffee and screamed.

   Darwin just sat watching her as recognition came into her eyes and the
tension from fear eased out of her.

   "My God, Dar, you scared the hell out of me!" she finally whispered.

   "Sorry about that, Susan," he replied.  "I wasn't sure you'd be home at
all.  Are you all right now?" he asked, looking her over.  "I was a mite
angry Saturday night.  Not sorry I did it, but I hope no permanent harm was
done."

   "Well," Susan replied, trying to give him a smile.  It came out almost
woefully inadequate.  "I was walking funny until Tuesday, but nothing was
really damaged.  Poor Randy is a mess, though.  Darla says he's going to be
OK now.  For a while the doctors were wondering if his sight was damaged."
She looked at him seriously a moment before adding, "When you get mad, you
go all the way don't you."

   "I've never felt like that before, Susan.  My reaction was a surprise to
me too.  But then I never expected you to be slutting around like that,
either.  I guess the one extreme brought on the other."

   "Oh, Dar!  I'm so sorry for that.  I can explain.  It wasn't what it
looked like."

   For a moment Darwin looked steadily into her eyes.  Then, "Yes it was,
Susan.  It was exactly like it looked." She gasped and tried to interrupt
him.  He just held up a hand until she stopped talking.

   "Yes it was.  The woman I thought I married, the one I was in love with,
never would have been out with another man.  We'll leave the detail of
whose husband he was and who else was with you alone.  They don't really
matter in the overall picture.  I can't love a woman who would behave like
that.  I couldn't trust you enough to leave you alone for a day or two. 
The woman I watched Saturday night certainly would not be a good mother. 
And Susan, before you say anything, I was watching.  That wasn't the first
time you had been "familiar" with Randy.  From the first moment I saw you
at the restaurant it was obvious you two were an...  "Item" I think is the
word I'm searching for."

   Susan gasped again, and tried to say something, but it just wouldn't
come out.

   "I've talked to my attorney, Susan.  The divorce papers should be in the
mail Monday.  Call my attorney and give him the name of yours so we can get
this thing over with.  Unless you fight this, I want to make a fair
settlement.  I'm thinking of giving you the house, the Volvo and a third of
the money that was in our savings account when I left here Sunday.  I
assume you have checked and know where I transferred the cash." Holding up
a hand again to keep her from breaking in he continued, "I have the figures
of what was in that account Sunday, a third of that will be yours.  The
equity on the house and the value of the car far exceed the cash I will be
keeping.  I keep that cash, my Beemer, my corporate 401k account...  oh
yes, and half of the money we'll get for selling the beach house."

   "Susan," he went on, "if you decide to sell this house you will be able
to find a nice home and live on the balance for an unlimited time if you
are wise.  I'm sorry I can't do any better, but you could go back and
finish your degree easily with the money you will receive.  I pray this
experience will teach you what you risked with your behavior."

   Looking hard and long at the woman he had married, he had a hard time
seeing the woman he had watched last Saturday.  But that woman, not the one
he had asked to marry him, would haunt him for years.  This was something
he had to do.  The one he thought he had married wasn't really there.

   Susan just stared at him, a tear running down her cheek as he finished,
"I'll leave now.  You can have your lawyer call me at work and I'll give
him a phone number where I can be contacted outside business hours.  It
will take me a while to get settled and until I am I can't give you an
address.  Give me a call at work next week or on my cell phone and I'll let
you know where I am until I get an apartment or condo...  I'm so sad this
happened Susan.  But I didn't do it...  I can't undo it...  We can't undo
it...  I'll let you know when I'll be by to pick up the Ford."

   With that he walked out to the garage, climbed into the Beemer and
backed out of the driveway.  Susan followed him into the garage, calling to
him, "Dar, that wasn't the real me Saturday.  Come back and we can talk,
honey.  Please!  Things just got out of hand.  We can make this work..."

   She was still calling, now from the top of the driveway, as he drove
away.



   _ _ _ _ _ _



   That's it folks.  Not the way I like my people to end up, but sometimes
there is no hope.

   Please, take a look and send me a note.  Let me know if you liked it and
why, or if you didn't like it, tell me that too.  And vote.  Let's me know
how I'm doing.