morning, my attorney called. The second hearing was set for Wednesday week. He gave me the place and time, and again told me to keep my nose clean. I had nothing new on Marilyn.
The week went by quickly and Marilyn had agreed to pick up the kids for me on Friday. Sharon and I were leaving at two o’clock. Again, more pictures. We landed in Las Vegas and took a cab to the hotel. I didn’t actually plan to leave the hotel.
We got our room and went down to the casino and gambled until nearly midnight. We lost a ton of money. We went up to the room and for the first time, we slept together.
Saturday morning, we were in a bad streak again, so we decided to walk down the strip. We walked several miles and had a wonderful time. We held hands and kissed, all photographed.
Saturday night we ate at a fancy restaurant and Sharon looked absolutely gorgeous. I was about as impressed as I could be. We went to bed a lot earlier. Stood in front of the window, naked, looking at the lights of Vegas, and were photographed again.
Sunday morning, we had our first bit of luck and began making our money back, but we had to quit and get ready to fly home. I am certain that I missed out on making a fortune.
When we got back to Dallas, we were both exhausted. I took Sharon to her apartment and then drove home. Marilyn was ready to go. She had her suitcase ready and was as nice and polite as she could be. I knew something was fishy, just not what it was.
The week went by quickly and Wednesday morning came. I was at the hearing with the kids. Marilyn offered to watch them for a few minutes. She took them and bought them candy and Cokes. I sat at my attorney’s table, just like a big whale, totally oblivious, ready to be slaughtered and butchered.
Marilyn’s attorney filed several motions. One I realized was for me to be evicted and Marilyn to move into the house with the kids. I would have the same restraining order placed on me that I had placed on her. I knew there was no way that was going to happen. Then Marilyn’s attorney asked for a short recess and he called my attorney over.
My attorney came back white as a sheet. I knew something had gone wrong somewhere.
He asked me, “Who is Sharon Spearman?”
I told him, “Just a lady that I know at church.”
He told me about all the photos, especially the nude photos, and said that we were in a bind. We were going to have to fold.
We wound up agreeing, that afternoon, we would switch places and Marilyn would get the kids and the house. I would also have to pay child support. The Judge wanted to see all parties in thirty days, then he would set the final hearing. Marilyn would not look at me. I noticed that Salva was at the back of the courtroom. I wondered if they were more than just friends yet.
My attorney, Washington, was furious with me. But not nearly as furious as I was with myself. I was my own worst enemy.
The hearing was over and I went to work. I should have gone home and packed my clothes.
At five, I got off work and drove home and started packing, but with very little enthusiasm. Marilyn came in about six-thirty with the kids.
I looked at her. “How could you do this to me, Marilyn? This is not fair! You have been with other men, you have stayed drunk, and you did drugs, and I didn’t use any of it against you. How could you do this?”
She started to cry. “Brandon, I am so sorry. This is all my attorney’s doing. I had nothing to do with it.”
I wanted to curse, but did say, “I didn’t make you pay child support, and you know that you knew what was going on. You are lying to me again. When are you going to be honest with me?”
She pointed her finger at me. “You bastard. I would have come back to you begging on my hands and knees, but you had to run to Sharon. Then you lied about her. Nude pictures—my God, Brandon, how could you do something like that?”
I knew that I had been beaten. I took my things and left.
On the way to the apartment, I fought the stupor that I was in and called Sharon and told her what had happened.
I went to the tiny apartment and licked my wounds. I found Marilyn’s liquor bottles and I proceeded to get drunk. Being drunk solved absolutely nothing. I was still angry, but was now grieving. I had only myself to really be mad at. I drank until I nearly passed out. I spilled the bottle of bourbon on the carpet. So much for drinking bourbon straight.
Thursday and Friday nights I got drunk again and cried my eyes out. I didn’t want to see anyone, even Sharon. I stayed to myself even at work, and it seemed that everyone left me alone. I was about as miserable as I could be. I felt that I had lost everything, and maybe I had.
Saturday morning, Marilyn met me at the park and I got to play with the kids. Now I knew how she had felt. The kids were on the merry-go-round and I was standing beside Marilyn watching them. I asked her one question: “Is there a guy in your life?”
She shook her head. “Salva is pressuring me hard. He wants to move in with me.”
I played along like I didn’t care. “Is he a good guy?”
She smiled. “The kids don’t like him.”
I smiled. “Well, you know what they say; kids are a better judge of character than we are.”
She turned where she could look me straight in the face. “Get rid of the bimbo and you can come home.”
I smiled again. “Don’t you think we have hurt each other too much for that?”
She shook her head. “This is a one-time offer. I won’t make it again.”
I nodded my head. “Let me think on it tonight.”
She pursed her lips. She was angry with me. “Okay, just don’t wait too long. I’m starting to get a lot of offers myself.”
Johnny fell off the slide and I ran over and picked him up. He was crying and struggling at the same time. He wanted to do the slide again. I let him go and he was back up the ladder.
Sunday morning, Marilyn was in church with the kids. I sat with them. I didn’t look at Sharon and she didn’t look at me.
When church was over, we stood out in the Narthex and Marilyn asked me, “What did you decide?”
I said, “You take the restraining order off me, we start seeing each other and work ourselves back into it slowly.” For some reason I wanted to drag things out. I figured that I must be hoping something better would come along.
She folded her hands under her breasts, looked around and said, “Is that the best that you can come up with?”
I said, “Well, honey, it is a start, and I want to take it slow and do it right; so far everything that we have done has been wrong.”
Her irritation was splattered all over her face. “The kids need you, so I guess I have no choice. But you leave that bimbo alone. That is not negotiable.”
I smiled. “And how about you leave the booze alone.”
Her irritation spread all over her face. “Don’t be telling me what to do. I have done nothing wrong. You spent the weekend with a naked woman.”
I wanted to argue with her, but knew that it was a losing battle, so I said, “Okay, okay, you win. We both keep our noses clean, okay?”
She batted her eyes at me, almost flirting. “I can if you can!”
I left the church, alone, and went back to the apartment. I felt lonely and debated on who to call, Marilyn or Sharon. I gave up when I couldn’t decide. I went to a bar and played some darts with other patrons. I only drank beer and ate a stale sandwich.
Sunday night, I went to a different lounge and was sitting at the bar minding my own business when a woman came in and sat down at the opposite end of the bar. It was obvious that she had been crying. She had fairly long auburn hair and was really, really attractive. I kept eyeing her and watching her reject the advances of other men.
She got up and went to the ladies’ room and I moved about halfway closer to her. It was obvious that asking her to dance wasn’t going to work; I needed a new line to work with.
When she came back, I got up slowly, walked over to her and said,
“You look like I feel. Could I get you a drink?”
Her eyes were bloodshot, but she made a tiny smile. “Sorry you feel that way. What happened to you?”
I sat down beside her and made a face. “My wife took my kids. She is an alcoholic and has gotten into drugs. I just can’t stay with her anymore. What about you, what is your story?”
Her smile increased and her eyes sparkled. “We are in the same boat. My husband ran off with his secretary. I hope they rot in hell.”
I introduced myself. “Brandon Thompson.” I shook her hand.
“Julie Testerman,” she said, shaking my hand firmly. She pulled out her business card. It said under her name, “Executive Vice President, Metro Office Systems.”
I handed her my card and she read it intently. I smiled. “I’m starving. Want to go to dinner?” She nodded and we left the bar.
I opened the passenger door to my car and Julie stepped in with long shapely legs. In fact, she was shapely all over. She was quite good-looking once her eyes cleared up. Another fact was, I thought that she was really way too pretty for me.
I took her to the fancy fish restaurant with the idea of showing her off. This time I was looking for the man with the camera, but I didn’t see him. Maybe he had done his job and was now leaving me alone.
We both had crab legs and were a mess when we finished. I offered to take her to my place to clean up, and to my surprise she said, “Okay!”
We went to my small apartment. Julie looked at it closely. “How nice!”
I escorted her to the bathroom and