3 STRIKES: Chatper 1 continues with Strike 2

Chapter 1 continues with STRIKE 2

Well needless to say after my bath I laid down for just a minute and instead fell asleep.

Nest morning, I was woken by the ringing of my cell phone. I opened my eyes and the bright morning sunshine coming in through the cracks of my blue curtains greeted me.

At first, I was confused. I felt that something dramatic had happened the day before but couldn’t remember what it was.

Then the bathroom scene flashed before me. Oh yes, Roger and the sea witch tramp. The memory of them on the floor attacked my brain like a cat jumping on your shoulder off a tall dresser. I fought it off and shooed it away.

Meanwhile, the elevator style Beethoven’s, Fur Elise, ring tone persisted and I stumbled toward the master bath to fish it out of my purse.

Roger.

Without thinking, I pushed the red off button. There really was nothing he had to say that I had any interest in hearing. I mean, he had probably met this woman some time ago, had thought about her, sexually, often…maybe even while him and I were together…then made his advances…after he had waited for and found the right opportunity. Or perhaps she made her first move. Either way, did I really need to hear him reminisce on all this out loud to me?

They are no longer going behind my back so officially their affair is no longer an affair; unless she’s cheating on someone as well.

What kind of people are these?

The phone stopped ringing and habitually I checked the call history.

I must have been dead to the world when I fell asleep at around ten last night because it showed that Roger has been calling all night since about ten thirty.

I had caught him with his mistress about one thirty pm. Hmmmm, I wonder what he was doing for almost nine hours before calling me. Perhaps they went at it after I had left…were somehow even more turned on by being caught? Or maybe they fought and he broke it off. Maybe they were in love and were happy they could now be together, forever. I visualized them in a meadow, skipping off into the sunset.

Desirei, Dee, had called as well, probably wanting me to come out as she did every Friday.

I dialed my cell phone number from my landline and punched in my code to hear my messages. My mailbox was full. With a feeling of dread, I started the process of going through them.

3:09 PM, Dee called. “Oh, my god! I met the hottest guy today, Jay. Like six-foot tall, blond hair, blue eyes, gorgeous lips and a smile to die for. Great butt.” Dee giggled and I sighed. “Met him at lunch at the coffee place we go to downtown. It was one those Hollywood moments…I actually spilled my coffee on him, can you believe it. Haha. He wants to take me to dinner. Like a real date, no clubbin’! He’s ai classey man! Hey, answer your phone, k. I know you’re off early and this is the third time I called and no answer at Roger’s either. Love ya.”

This was pretty much a typical message from Dee.

I remember when I used to get excited for her whenever she met someone she hyped about. But after knowing her for about five years I knew this man would be lucky if he kept her entertained for maybe a month - if he’s real good.

10:38 PM. After a long time of breathing and sighing, Roger’s quiet, repentant voice came through the speakerphone. “Oh god, what…have I done.” Long pause. “Jay, love…I am sooo sorry. Please pick up next time I call.”

Erase. Next message.

10:42 PM Roger again: “I know you don’t want to talk to me…but at least you can hear me out. Please pick up.”

Erase. Next message.

10:48 PM “It was…an impulse. I...I shouldn’t have given in. Jay, it meant nothing. Please, I want to marry you. Spend my life with you...” Long pause and heavy, breathing. “The…the way you walked out…laughing…it was like you were never coming back. Please pick up so I can hear your voice. Please don’t give up on me. I swear it was the first and only time. You have to give me another chance. Please. You have to believe me. Jay? Where are you?” He started to cry before he hung up quietly.

My stomach was turning. A weird sensation came over me. What was it? I thought about it. Oh dear god, it was pity!

I skipped over to the next message and my mother’s voice came through.

10:56 PM. “Sweetie, I hope you just fell asleep after your bath. You sounded sleepy at the end. I was just thinking about your situation during my class earlier and now I just can’t sleep.” There was a pause and then her tone got serious. “He will try to get you back tonight, honey. But don’t you give in to him. He will undoubtedly beg and sound convincing. Even if he is really sorry you must not forgive him. Not just yet, anyways. He can wait to be forgiven. Please, be strong. Remember, life will go on and you’ll feel better soon, I promise.” She paused. “I love you. See you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up around five.” She blew a kiss into the receiver.

A picture of Michelangelo’s angels touching fingers came to my mind. I really felt like she had reached out to me and saved me with her touch.

“You’re right, mom. Thanks for saving me from my weak, woman self,” I said out loud. I really had almost called Roger to comfort him.

I saved this message.

Next message.

11:02 PM. “Jay, my love, please don’t ignore me. The worst thing we can do now is not talk about it.” Roger’s hauntingly sad voice turned into long breaths and more weeps. It took a few moments for him to compose himself. “Oh my god,…god, what have I done? What have I done to us? I don’t want to lose you. Please…please, Jay.” Long pause. “Alright, I’ll call back in a bit and hope you pick up. You know, I want to come over but don’t want to…to have things get out of hand and…cause a scene. So, please, pick up and yell at me over the phone if you must. Please. Jay. I’ll take anything from you but this.”

I wondered if he had been drinking and forced myself to push 2 to erase. Next message.

11:24 PM. Long sighs before Roger’s voice came through again. “I just want you to know, that nothing happened. There was no…penetration…and I’ll never see her again privately, of course. She’s at the company from an out of town department here on a short assignment. She came over with rye to congratulate me on that promotion I was hoping for, which I got. I never could tell you about that, but that seems so unimportant now, anyway. I didn’t think much of it and only had one glass. Oh god, I’m so stupid, you know. She just wouldn’t leave even I gave her the hints that it was time to wrap it up. I…I think she put something in my drink. Maybe Viagra or something, I don’t know. And…then she walked in on me when I went to pee. She came in the bathroom and…and, well attacked me. Started taking off my clothes and touching me....” Long pause intermitted by long sighs. “You probably don’t believe any of this and I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you for anything. You have always made me so happy, Jay. I hope I did that for you too. Please don’t forget all that we’ve been through. I’d never cheat on you soberly.” He started to cry openly. “I’ll…I’ll call you back. Please pick up.”

I was sure my eyes were bulging just like the eyes of a Boston Terrier because I felt like someone had put a noose around my neck and tightened it ever so hard. What was I supposed to think now?

Is there even such a thing as man rape? By a woman, I mean.

I was so confused. My thoughts raced. I wished I had not erased his other messages so that I wouldn’t have to try to remember what he had said in them. It seemed so impossible to remember now.

Reluctantly, I skipped over this message.

Next message.

11:37 PM. “Honey, your mother again. I just can’t sleep, you know. I keep on worrying about you but my mother instincts tell me that you’re alright, that you had your bath and then fell asleep. You sounded so wiped out. But I do worry that Roger came over and seduced you into forgiving him.” Pause. “Hmmpf, I really hope you’re not with him now…. If he didn’t come over he will most certainly call. Don’t pick up. You need to think about what you’re going to say and then stick to it.” Pause again. “You know, he will undoubtedly try to put the blame on the woman - she started it and he didn’t want to take part or something of that nature. He might even say that nothing really happened and you’re overreacting. Anyway, that’s what I think he might do. Honey, I know it in my heart that you will get over him and the man of your dreams is waiting for just the right moment in your life. Anyway, I’m your mother and I love you and that’s what I think and now I can sleep. Call me first thing, okay. Good night, honey.”

This was unbelievable: a message from the past that would come to my rescue in the future at just the right moment. My mother again…reaching down to my fallen self…touching fingers…feeling renewed. My jumbled brain refocused: Roger did bad thing.

Those were all the messages that fit in my mailbox. I was relieved as I did not need to hear any more of Roger’s sad voice.

I hung up the phone and since I was still holding my cell I plugged it in.

I checked the time on it. It was 9:03 AM, April 2^st, 2005.

That means, that I caught Roger with his mistress on April Fool’s Day!

I was overcome with giggles at the irony.

I jumped in the shower and as I washed and shaved I continued to giggle.

Did Roger realize that he tried to fool me that he was not having an affair on April Fool’s Day?

By the time I got out of the shower I felt my sprits had lifted dramatically. Laughter really must be medicinal.

Where did I hear that saying, ‘a fool is as fool does’? Well, I had not done anything foolish yet. I hadn’t called him. And it does not count just how close I came.

After I dressed and did my hair and make-up I made my bed. I laid down on top of the blanket and reached over for the phone on my nightstand. Looking at it, I wondered why no one tried to call me on it. I flipped it on the side and saw that my suspicion was correct - it had been off. That happens often with this old phone. I really should get a new one that does not have the off button where the thumb reaches it every time I move the small base. But this was my very first phone I bought myself with my first job money when I was 14. It was pink and on a long cord and had just so many hours of talk memories in it.

The phone rang just as I was about to dial.

“Hello,” I said, realizing too late that that could have been Roger. I closed my eyes and symbolically made a fist with which I gently banged myself on the head.

“Jay,” a small, sniveling voice on the other line wept.

My eyes flew open.

“Oh my god, Dee, what’s wrong?” My heart started to race and I began to shake uncontrollably as a terrible feeling washed over me. I sat up.

“Jay, I’m…I’m in the hospital,” she cried.

“Dear god, why? What happened?”

It took a while before she was able to answer. “He…he was nice at first, you know…I…I…” she broke into renewed cries.

“He hurt you? That man you talked about on the message?”

“Yes,” she managed softly in between sobs.

“Oh my god. Oh my god…oh my god. I’ll be right there, Dee. I’ll be right there. Everything will be okay. I’m going to hang up now and then I’ll be there in ten minutes. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” I started to cry too.

“Ok, please,” she said in a small voice.

In a flash I was up. I grabbed my cell and my purse. At my door I put on my spring jacket. Just as I was done zipping up my leather ankle shoes I thought I heard a light knock.

I grabbed the keys off the hook on the wall and then opened the door to stare into Roger’s eyes.

I just stood there, staring up into his red, swollen eyes.

“I um, didn’t want to use the key to your apartment.” He finally said. He looked disheveled, like he hadn’t slept all night.

I was in shock at seeing him at this moment and stood frozen in my doorway. I could not think of a thing to say to him.

He waited a few moments. “Can we talk?” he then asked very gently.

But I remembered Dee and a sense of urgency overshadowed this whole Roger thing. I pushed past him and turned to lock my door.

He stared at me until I turned and stared back at him. I still didn’t know what to say or do. Then, suddenly, I heard myself ask him: “Roger, can I have my key, please?”

“Wha-?” His eyes darted about my face, then lingered on my teary eyes whence his own teared up.

“Come on, Roger. I have to be…somewhere. Just give me the key back now.”

“Jay, please, don’t be so rash. I mean…it’s not that over yet.”

I looked straight at him and stuck out my palm. Even though he looked like he’s been through hell he still looked dam good, I admitted to myself. His short black hair went in all directions. He still had that perfect nose. His face was pink and puffy, but he still looked kissable. Yet he had lost his appeal to me. All I saw was some other man who looked like Roger, all wrapped up with another woman, having a gay, good ol’ time, being “raped” by her.

I sighed. Dee needed me. “Come on, Roger. I can always give it back to you if…” He looked like a cornered kitten; no that’d be me. I’m the cat and now he’s the cornered mouse. I never want it the other way again.

It occurred to me that he may have believed that if ever I did find out that I’d be one of those gullible women who broke down and just hoped she won him over the other woman. I supposed I did feel that way, wanted him to comfort me, but even so, I didn’t think I could ever stand him touching me again.

I looked at my watch feeling like every minute lost, even to this, was somehow hurtful to Dee.

“Alright, if this is what you need, Jay,” he finally said, sounding like he had come to some sort of resolve within himself. He thumbed for his keys and began taking my apartment key off the ring. His hands shook. “If this is what you need right now then that’s what I’ll give you. I’m just happy you’re talking to me. Small steps back. That’s how we’ll go for now ”

He passed the key to me and I slipped it in my jean pocket.

“Thank you Roger. Good bye.” I said and started to walk away.

“Well, wait, Jaynnie. Where are you going? I thought we could go for breakfast or something.”

I didn’t even turn around. “I told you, Roger. I have to be somewhere.” I said as I sped down the stairs and out of the building.

“Wait! Jay, can’t we just –“ I heard him call out before the words faded away.

3 STRIKES: Chapter 1, Strike 1

Chapter 1, Strike 1

Walking in on your naked fiancé hovering over a nude woman on the bathroom floor is really an empowering experience.

Don’t laugh.

I didn’t say that it was a pleasant experience…although, the look on their faces, if captured on camera, is what one might reminisce upon as an amusing Kodak Moment.

I said empowering.

How so, you smirk?

Because, think about it, you have been the center of their evil attraction. You are their God that must not see or hear their sin for it is against you that they are sinning. In fact, without you, their ‘sexual apex”, their liaisons, turns into, well, a mere relationship…with relationship type expectations…demands and loyalties which your fiancé is now adamantly sinning against.

Empowering especially, if the woman is younger than you are, has larger breasts, smaller waist and longer legs, a flat tummy that is now moist with your boyfriends sweat and long, healthy hair that drapes over her shoulders and made up face like a flattering curtain.

All right, she wasn’t really quite as that perfect (he wishes) but it fits the way I felt at the time about her.

So anyways, you caught your fiancé with an averagely pretty woman in his apartment, on his bathroom floor.

You are staring down on them.

You are hurt, indescribable pain, in shock, in denial…shock and denial again until finally you start to feel something akin to the anger of the octopus sea witch in Disney’s Little Mermaid.

PISSED OFF!

You are Ursulla – you become an enormous, tentacled beast; breaking the building walls and sending them, the sinners, into screams of repentance and fear…they cower and cover their eyes at the sight of you, hug each other’s naked bodies in the passion of shared horror while your tentacles flail about you destroying the bathroom. Debris is falling around them, water sprays in all directions…outside, cars are slamming into each other, people are screaming, pointing at the roofless building and at the big, black octopus monster that is you roaring in anger. But you pay no heed, your only focus are these two naked and pathetic creatures on the black, bathroom floor rug. Your eyes are red with fury and you hiss down on them through your large, razor sharp piranha teeth…you pick them up by a foot in separate tentacles and shake them like filthy rags while you shout in that booming, metallic voice, “HOW DARE YOU!? HOW…DARE…YOU? YOU...YOU WILL SUFFER FOR THIS! YOU WILL PAY! YOU POOR…UNFORTUNATE SOULS!”

Alas, you are no sea witch.

You are an average woman and here you are staring in shock down on them in mere human form. Indeed, if you were a beast, you’d be a deer caught in a headlight; stupefied. A sense of danger comes over you and you are afraid of what you will do next…because you are not quite sure what they are seeing. Maybe it’s only a dream. Your brain does not want to accept what your eyes are seeing and your heart just wants to stop breathing.

Your future with him had just been shattered and you are on the verge of…of climbing atop the throne because this is where it gets empowering!

Yes, amazingly, all of this rushed through my head in the first few seconds when I walked in on Roger and the busty brunette. That’s right, not blonde, but brunette, because in this love triangle, I am the blue-eye blonde.

  And so, from atop my throne, I threw back my head, I pointed down at Roger’s shriveled thingy, which hung down in a droopy, pathetic way now, and I laughed. A throaty, sexy, witching laughter, which rolled out from my mouth as smooth as velvet, as though I had been practicing it for an audition: A perfect Ursula.

They looked at each other, confused.

Good.

I glared at one from the other, one eyebrow raised, apparently very amused and still laughing.

I twisted my lips and purposefully eyed them up and down, making them aware of their nakedness.

Roger covered the limp thing with his hands…like I haven’t seen it before?

The woman started to reach for a towel draped over the tub behind her. There was no blush in the world that would do a better job on her face than her own natural blush she had for me.

Our eyes met and I supposed she knew my name. I did not care to know hers. But I did smile down on her, forgivingly, like God in the New Testament...and began to take steps back. My laughter began to cease and I felt the oncoming of a tear-a-thon.

I had to get out of Roger’s apartment. They would not witness their affair breaking me.

I turned slowly and began to walk away.

“Jaynnie, I…I…this…this…” I heard Roger stutter.

But there was nothing he had to say that I wanted to hear.

By the time I made it to the end of his entrance my face was wet from the tears, which they did not see.

“God dam it!” I heard Roger yell after me. “Jay!”

Without hesitating, just as quietly as I had opened it – to surprise Roger with my early home coming - I closed the door to my ex-fiancé’s apartment.

***

“Mother! I will not talk to him about it…or anything else. There is nothing to talk about; he did all the talking for both of us when he decided whether one of us should see other people.”

After my uncontrollable crying ceased and I was able to talk again without my voice all raspy and grievance-like, I had called my mother first about Roger’s affair. Certainly I have close friends who would offer condolences and then force me to come out get stinking drunk and clubbing with them but I think I needed my mother’s pushy ways. I suspected she would somehow end up on Rogers’ side and being my own defense lawyer was really helping me step out of my victim’s role.

I suggest trying it.

“But Jaynie, maybe it didn’t happen that way,” she said nervously, probably scared that I would cancel the wedding.

“I don’t care, mom.”

“Honey, I’m just saying, find out how it happened before you make the decision.”

I sighed. “We would not be having this conversation if you had been there and seen them on the floor. How they got there really would not be an issue.”

She paused.

“Yup, they were having all the fun,” I added.

“Hmmpf,” she responded. “Okay, he made a mistake, had a moment of weakness. Haven’t you ever?”

“No, mom.”

“Well at least find out if it was the first time. Maybe you can still work this out. He’s your fiancé not just any man.”

“Mom, I –“

“You never listen to me, Jay. Not since you were a little baby. Heck, since you were born! Why I remember the day you were born –“.

I sighed and rolled my eyes at her bringing up the same story of the first moment she and I shared after I was born. It took a sip of my wine and imagined mom, Kate Standley, twenty miles away, sitting in her lazy-boy, a tea in one hand and health magazine in the other. A dull image of my mother but at forty four she was still young and really an attractive woman with green eyes, long, chestnut hair, a petite frame and soft facial features that turned plenty men's and guy's heads, that's right guys my age. She did lead a fairly mundane life though after she and dad divorced eight years ago. I don’t think she’s even been on even one date.

“- and then they cleaned you up and put you on my stomach and I tried to have that mother-new-baby eye contact moment with you. Well like a little miracle baby you lifted your head and it was going to be so perfect because you started to grunt so cutely as you looked around.” I could hear she was talking with a smile on her face but was not beguiled. “But you know you would not look at me. I tried to get you to. ‘Hullo, baby girl. I’m your mummy,’ I cooed. And you turned your little newborn cone head to look around the hospital room and everything else but me.  I’m not saying you were a bad baby or daughter but since right then, since that first moment we met, I knew you would probably not listen to me and I was right.”

“Mom,” I sighed audibly into the receiver, hoping she got my exasperation “this is not like anything else we argued over. This isn’t about where I’m going to live or what job I should take.” About a year ago I was offered two positions. One at a law firm as the assistant secretary, which was better money; the other a receptionist at a local radio station, CRD 92.7, Courtland Radio, a local news and talk radio station. My mother thought I should take the lawyer assistant job. I took the radio station job, not to disobey her advice, as she still thinks, but because I saw more opportunities for advancement with the station. (I always thought interviewing stars would be fun and did take two years in journalism, I even took photography, so it did make sense.) But so far there hasn’t been one and indeed I was promptly stationed at the front desk where I've remained since “You are telling me to try to make up with a cheating fiancé, a man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with because I trusted him.” I really put a lot of emphasis on the ‘trusted’. “I mean, who knows how long he’s been cheating? My god, we’ve been together short of a year year…engaged for just two weeks! And already I’m not good enough? That's like hyperspeeding through at least fifteen years, where one might cheat being in a stale old relationship, in my opinion. And even if it was his first time? Even if he didn’t see her again, in the future there would be someone else. Hell even if there weren’t, I’d always expect that day to come. Any time I’d come home early or late, I’d wonder if that’s the day I’d find him with someone else…or find evidence of it.” I cringed at the thought. “And what if I do get a promotion and have to travel? I’d go through emotional hell trying to trust Roger being away from him days at a time. Now do you really want me to live like that, mom?”

I waited for her argument…but the line was quiet.

I waited longer.

Quiet.

There was certainly a lot more I wanted to add to my presentation, but this was just so rare. Did I rend my mother speechless?

The quiet moment went on until I began to wonder what she was thinking…was she comparing her life to mine?

Was she thinking of dad?

Was she even still there?

“Mom, you there?”

Then I heard it, the sobbing on the other end of the line.

“Oh…Jay,” she cried. “You’re right. No, of course I don’t want to you live like that. You are a good girl and deserve better than a husband like him. Shame on him for treating you that way. I…I hope he gets what he deserves. And that tramp too!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! The sudden change was both unexpected and new.

“What comes around goes around and it will for both of them, you’ll see.” She blew her nose. “Honey, you are only twenty-five and have your life ahead of you. You will go on and one day, you will find a good man; whereas people like him and her will never find true happiness. You are too good for a man like Roger Raymond.”

And like with a switch, my mother had me in tears and now I was rendered speechless. Was she really saying these things, my un-mothering mother?

It felt so nice though and I was surprised at how relieving it was to hear her be on my side for a change. And I was even more surprised when realized that I had actually wanted my mother to say things like this when I called. As she spoke, an enormous weight lifted off my shoulders and suddenly Roger’s infidelity didn’t seem to cloud my future. I would get over it, I could do anything…I had my mommie!

Then of a sudden, as though she had just sang me a lullaby, I was overcome with exhaustion. The Roger trial was over. We were on the same side.

For the next few minutes we said nothing as we listened to each other snivel.

Then she cleared her throat and spoke while she wiped her nose.

 “You go and take care of yourself now, Jay. I’ll come out tomorrow. We’ll have supper at a real nice restaurant. We’ll drink wine and talk. I need to go to my palates class here soon but I’ll use that time to think of ways to help you through this. Be nice to yourself now, you hear me, and you’ll get past this in no time. You may find you’re actually happier.”

I yawned. “Ok, mom.”

“Be strong, you hear me?”

I smiled, completely drowning in this new feeling of being mothered. “I will. I’m going to have a bubble bath.”…and then I’ll call Deseerei, I thought. I can already hear her “Oh my god!”s. She will probably want to take me out, being a pro at the singles’s life. I could use the distraction. It was Friday, after all. A good bath and clean shave would revive me. “Goodnight, mom,” I said after she blew me a kiss and hung up.

Aug20/10

What am I doing here?
I don't know. I don't even know how blogs work and if I did it right and in all honesty, I never read them. It's nothing personal. I also never read twitter, facebook annoys me, and my space is a big blank....

...it's 12:24 AM and I'm having a CRAPPY night with my stupid heart palpitations. I'm on thryroxine (or something like that) synthoid , maybe?  Anyway, I have to take this one tiny white pill every morning and would you believe that I Still sometimes forget and that's what my bf (who's a pharmacist) says causes these but hell I don't know, I took 1 this morning. Anyway, 1 out of 4 women have this so tell your doc if you're extremely tired every day, that's not normal!! And pass it on...lol I think I found 1 useful SPAM!! BTW the pills are extremely cheap! yey!

Um, is this something people read? I don't know...I'm babbling. I guess it doesn't matter. If nobody out there reads me then it makes no difference and if 1 person does then maybe he or she (or you, rather!) might, just might, tell their friend or wife or themselves to if they have brittle nails/dry skin and hair/palpitations and EXTREME tiredness to where they feel like they're going to go into a coma - all symptoms of HYPOthyroidism....and I made a difference :D

I know my blog as a new writer is technically dedicated to that but other thoughts happen....heh


Cheers for now...