Something Rotten, Ch. 05
Image by tookapic from Pixabay
“When are you coming home, Jimmy?” Rebecca asked when she had the phone.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not sure I really have a home anymore.”
“That’s nonsense, Jimmy, and you know it. I need you to come home. The kids need you home as well,” she said. “What’s gotten into you?”
“It’s not what’s gotten into me,” I said. “It’s who’s gotten into you.”
“What?” she asked, acting shocked. “What gives you the idea I’ve been with anyone other than you?”
“Please, don’t insult my intelligence,” I told her. “I’ve had it with all of you. You didn’t even bother to tell me that you were out with Max and my parents at the Indian River Club that Friday while I was asleep. Instead, you made it sound as if they were just coming up on Saturday. You lied right to my face.
“You think I didn’t see the way you and the kids oozed all over Max this weekend? How would you feel if you watched the person you loved more than anything else do that, right in front of you?”
“So that’s it,” she said. “You think because I was polite to Max that I’m having an affair with him?”
“Polite? Are you freaking kidding me? You damn near jumped his bones right in front of me. The whole time I was there, you didn’t even give me so much as a peck on the cheek. You went out of your way to make sure we never got together. You have any idea how much it hurt to see the woman I loved more than anything in the world do that?”
“Wait, you said ‘loved.’ As in past tense,” she said. “Don’t you love me anymore?”
I wondered when she would catch on to that. “What do you think?” I asked in response to her question. “How would you feel in my place?”
“Jimmy Foreman, you need to come home right now,” she said after a few awkward moments. “We’ll iron this out when you get here.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I may just find solace in your brother’s arms,” she said angrily. I stared at the monitor, hearing her words echo in my ears. Part of me was glad I was recording this; the other part wanted to bury her neck deep in an ant hill. I saw her expression change as she realized what she had just said and tried to recover.
“I... I’m sorry, Jimmy, that just slipped out. You’ve hurt me. You’ve never hurt me before, and that just threw me for a loop,” she said. “I let some emotion slip through and responded before I even thought.”
“Rebecca, when was the last time we made love?” I asked.
She looked blank, obviously not expecting that question. Then she looked concerned, bordering on frantic. If the dull ache where my heart used to be hadn’t turned so damn sharp all of a sudden, her rapidly changing expression would have been comical.
“Jimmy, where did that come from? We, we, made love, really, last week, don’t you remember?” I saw her looking desperately at the calendar. The wench couldn’t even remember the last pity fuck she had given me to keep me ‘happy.’ I had to end this call quickly before raw emotion overcame common sense, and I blurted out anything about the evidence I had. “Really, Jimmy, you need to come home and be my husband. I just…”
“Do what you feel you have to do,” I said. “Just know this. I am not your drone anymore. And I will not be your cuckold. If you do sleep with him, we’re finished. If I learn that you have slept with him at any time since we married, we’re finished. I will divorce you. And I will make it as painful as possible. Do you understand me?”
I looked at the display on my laptop and saw her with the phone, her head in her hands. She didn’t look quite as beautiful to me anymore. I watched her wipe a tear from her face before speaking. Whether she did have some shred of human shame for the con she had pulled on someone whose only crime was to love her, or she really did have a tiny wisp of feeling for me, or the pillars of her perfect life were trembling, and she could feel them, I didn’t know, and told myself sternly that I didn’t care.
“Do you really mean that?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
“Alright, Jimmy. I understand,” she said. “Please come home to me. Do what you have to do, but just come home. I love you.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll hear from me soon enough,” I said. “Goodbye, Rebecca.” I ended the call and wondered if she had noticed I hadn’t told her I loved her. I watched the surveillance video to gauge her reaction.
In an oddly detached way, I wondered if she even realized that she had never once denied any of my accusations. Not once had she said I was delusional, and she had never slept with Max, or anything like that. Not that it mattered, but I wondered vaguely if she had a psychological disorder, like a dual personality, and the two never talked to each other. I shook myself. In the long run, it really didn’t matter. She had only one body, and she gave that to Max freely and without reservation.
She held the phone receiver in her hand for a bit, staring at it. She replaced it slowly before collapsing in a chair. I stretched out on the bed and turned on the television, all the while keeping an eye on the laptop that sat on the desk by the wall. Some time later, perhaps about an hour, I saw Rebecca answer the door. It was Max, no doubt coming for his evening tryst.
“Are you okay?” he asked her when he came into the room. “You look like someone just took all your cookies.” She chuckled at that.
“Jimmy called earlier,” she said. “Talked to the kids.”
“That’s a good sign. Did he talk to you as well?” Max asked.
“Yes,” she said. “He threatened me with a painful divorce if he found out that I was cheating on him.”
“Hmm,” Max said. “So he doesn’t know about us yet, then. That’s good.”
“The way he talked, though. It sounds like he knows what’s going on,” she said.
“If he knew, he would’ve mentioned it. I think he’s just trying to goad you into saying something incriminating,” Max said.
“Do you think it’s time you talked to him?” Rebecca asked. Max thought for a few moments before responding.
“Not yet,” he finally said. “Let’s see what he does first.”
“Are you staying here tonight?” she asked.
“No, I have to head out for Savannah first thing in the morning to meet a client. I’ll stop by and visit Mom while I’m out there,” he said. “I could be gone for a couple of days. Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Call me when you get there.”
“I will,” he said, kissing her.
“I love you, Max,” she said.
He smiled as he responded. “And I love you too,” he said. That hurt me more than anything else. Did I ever really know any of these people?
It was 2:30 the next afternoon when I received a text from Angela. Rebecca had been served with the order to have the children tested for paternity. Not long after that, I received a very angry call from my errant wife.
“What is this?” she shouted.
“What is what?” I asked, maintaining a level of calm.
“This order to have the kids’ DNA tested,” she screamed. “What the hell are you trying to pull?”
“Not trying to pull anything,” I told her. “I just want to know if the children are mine or not.”
“What makes you think they’re not yours?” she demanded.
“I have reason to believe they may not be. After seeing your behavior by the pool, I took a good, long look at pictures of me and the kids and Max.” I wanted her to think I still only had suspicions. “I think I have good reason to believe they may not be mine. I want to know the truth, one way or the other. For my own peace of mind,” I said.
“Your name is on their birth certificates, and I assure you they’re both yours,” she said angrily.
“My name may be on their birth certificates, but frankly, my dear, your assurances don’t mean a whole lot to me lately,” I said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” With that, I ended the call. She called right back, but I declined the call. I left work a bit early and went to the testing center to provide a DNA sample. From there, I grabbed a bite to eat and went back to the hotel.
When I got there, I fired up the video surveillance on the house to see what was going on. I checked all of the cameras but didn’t see Rebecca or the children. I had just turned the television on when my phone rang – it was my mother. I thought about letting it go to voicemail, but decided to take the call.
“Hello,” I said.
“Jimmy, this is your mother,” she said. “What do you mean by having Rebecca take the children to get tested for paternity? What are you trying to pull?”
“First off, I told you my mother is dead, Mrs. Foreman. Second, I made it clear to Max that I would call you; you aren’t to call me. And third, what I do is none of your concern,” I said.
“Stop that Mrs. Foreman crap, Jimmy,” she snapped angrily. “I AM your mother, whether you like it or not, and you will NOT use that tone of voice with me.”
“Or WHAT?” I taunted, thinking that maybe I could get her to slip and admit something for my recorder. “You’ll ground me? Give me a break.”
“Alright, Jimmy... Mr. Foreman, if you prefer,” she said. “What’s this about a paternity test?”
“A man has a right to know if the children he’s been raising are his,” I said.
“But those ARE your children,” she said.
“I have reason to believe otherwise,” I said.
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
“I think you know full well,” I said. I heard her sigh over the phone.
“Jimmy, I don’t know what’s gotten into you these last few days, but I think you need to get your head out of your ass and get with the program,” Mary said.
“And what program is that?” I asked.
“I want you to put a stop to that order,” Mary said. “Then we’ll talk.”
“That’s not the way this works, Mrs. Foreman,” I said. “Is there something you wish to confess?”
“No, Jimmy. Sorry... Mr. Foreman,” she said. “It’s just... You’ve upset a lot of people with your attitude lately.”
“Well, if what I suspect turns out to be true, there’s going to be a lot more upset before this is all said and done,” I said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I really have a lot to do. Goodbye.” With that, I ended the call. She called right back, but I declined her call.
I sat down in the recliner and put my feet up. I had the television and the computer on and found myself watching both – the television just to keep from exploding, and the computer to see what was happening in my house.
Eventually, I saw Rebecca enter the house with the two kids in tow. She didn’t look to be a happy camper, but I frankly didn’t care. Apparently, she had stopped for fast food, which surprised me, as she usually hated the stuff. I saw her shoo the kids upstairs before tossing a bag and three empty drinking cups in the trash. Then she grabbed her phone and called someone.
“Hey, it’s me,” she said. “I just got back with the kids. Can you believe he actually had a DNA test ordered for the kids? Talk about humiliating. The technician was right there with a sheriff’s deputy, and I had no time to sneeze before they were taken away and swabbed.” I figured she was talking to Max, and tried to hear what was being said on the other end, but couldn’t. Then she spoke again.
“You really think that’s what he’s doing?” She paused, listening intently. “I have a copy of the order. It was filed by someone named Angela Hawkins.” She listened and finally said, “Are you still there? Yes, she is listed as the attorney filing. Does that mean anything?” she asked. She sat down and put one hand on her head as she listened.
“You promise me you’ll call him? Tonight? Okay. Thanks. I love you, too. Bye.” She ended the call, and I knew she had been talking to Max. A few minutes later, my phone rang, and I saw it was from him – Max. I started the call recording app I purchased earlier at Angela’s insistence and took the call.
“What do you want now?” I asked when I answered his call. “I told you I would call you when it was time to talk.”
“What’s this I hear about a paternity test?” Max asked.
“It’s what one usually does when one wants to verify the paternity of the children he’s been raising,” I said. “What business is it of yours?”
“Rebecca said it was humiliating the way you handled it,” Max said. “Did you really need to do that to her?”
“Humiliating? You have no idea what humiliation is,” I said.
“Jimmy, I spoke with Mom and Rebecca. They’re devastated. What the hell is going on with you?” Max asked.
“Let’s just say I’m learning quite a lot about my so-called family,” I said. I could almost hear the gears turning in Max’s head as he thought.
“Listen, I’m in Savannah right now,” Max said. “I’ll be here for another day or so, then I’ll be back. When I get back, we need to have a talk – clear the air, so to speak.” Max sighed deeply, like an adult trying to be reasonable with a petulant child.
“I can’t believe you’d waste money on having a shyster like Angela Hawkins torment the people who love you. But I guess it’s your money to waste,” Max added, as though correcting an errant child with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Is that right?” I asked.
“Yes,” Max said. “Tell you what. When I return, I’ll call, and we can set something up. Just you and me. Okay?”
“We’ll see,” I said. We ended the call, and I stopped the recording. I couldn’t help but wonder what Max had in store. I slept fitfully that night and was barely able to function at work the next day. I was quite surprised that afternoon when Dad showed up at my office.
…
More to come…
Read more here: