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Am I Standing in Your way?

"What went around sure a heck came around."

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  " . . . Last night you both kept dancing

When the music ceased to play

Is it all over, do you still love me

Am I standing in your way . . ."

(Merle Haggard) 

It is such a fucking cliché, what happened to me.

I was a physical ruin as I left work; I'm a carpet installer. If you've never done it, you have no idea. At any rate I would soon be dropping in at Tribes to imbibe some liquid revitalizer. Tribes is a very large bar with a very small dance floor and a very ancient country music only jukebox to facilitate the hoofers. Most of the patrons are blue collar types and cowboy wannabes. The local constabulary also usually has a presence, and that, with the total support of the owner and top gun bartender Larry Herndon.

Larry saw me first and grabbed my attention. "Clyde, I don't want no trouble. Got it," he said. He'd seen me in action more than once.

"Huh?" I said.

"Adrienne's here again, Clyde, with Alan. That's them dancing," he nodded out toward the far side of the dance floor.

I turned to see my wife and my new worst enemy swaying rhythmically to an old country tune, "Am I Standing in Your Way." They were glued to each other and not at all concerned about who saw them.

I was hurt, I was angry, and I was about to be gettin' divorced. Oh yeah, this was the livin' end. She'd trashed my pride too many times. She'd disrespected me too many times. It was "too" definitely over now.

Adrienne and I had been having troubles of late, but we had also been making the effort; or so I'd thought, to fix them. I guess I was wrong. I was suddenly glad we'd got no kids; that would not have been convenient, not after this.

I didn't want to end up in the slam for kickin' Whitley's pimply ass, so I calmed myself down and watched.

"On the house," said Larry, setting my usual Lite in front of me. I swigged half the glass and returned to my informal sleuthing.

I was at the end of the bar in a kinda darkened spot, my back was to it, the bar, elbows pushed back half supporting me while I watched them. She finally spotted me.

She smiled weakly in my direction, busted, but she kept on dancing with him. Oh, him? He's Alan Whitley: a trucker and womanizer. Oh, and didn't I mention? Professional asshole! I flipped her the bird, took a final sip of my beer and started to leave. She made to come to me, but he held her, and she didn't fight him. I left.

It was around 6:30 before I'd finally packed everything I needed. I headed downstairs. I had just reached the bottom of the stairs when she burst into the kitchen from the back and sailed into the front room. Alan was with her. She came in somewhat breathless. I continued walking till I got out onto the front porch.

"Clyde, where are you going? I came home to apologize. Alan too. Clyde, we were just funnin', no big deal. We weren't doin' nuthin'. We weren't gonna do anything! Honey, come on back in," she said.

"Why, Adrienne? Why? Do you even still love me?" I said.

"Clyde this isn't about love. It's, something else," she said.

"Yeah, sex, right Adrienne? And I noticed you didn't answer me. Well, that good 'ole asshole standing beside you can be funnin' you now, Adrienne."

"Clyde, come on, man. She's right; it was just gonna be sex. Some foolin' that's all. She loves you not me. I mean it man," said Alan.

"Shut the hell up, Alan! You weren't getting' into my pants tonight and you know it," shouted Adrienne.

I was still standing kinda half in and half out the front door. "Fuck you," I said to him, "her too."

"What did you say asshole," said Alan, as his demeanor suddenly morphed.

"I said to intercourse yourself, fuckwad, and her too!"

He came at me and I laid him out, easy-peezy. "I ain't gonna be standin' in your way no more, Adrienne. You can screw butthead there until your pussy fossilizes," I pointed at the writhing form below me, "or anybody else you want anytime you want from now on."

"Clyde! Please, we have to talk. It was only sex.

“I mean we didn't even do anything. It wasn't nuthin," she wailed. But, I was gone. I was sure I'd interrupted her plans; she was gonna do it; it was on her mind, and I sure as hell knew it was on his. If it hadn't been so tragic it would have been funny.

I drove around for some time. I found myself pulling into the Starlight Motor Lodge. Forty bucks a night and found. Found means free breakfast if you city folks ain't into cowboy talk. It would do for a while.

I got me a room, and paid up for a week. I had to be at work in the morning; I was gonna need the money. It was only Thursday; tomorrow was a work day. I'd be finding me a lawyer during lunch time and a more permanent place on the weekend.

******

Sacked out on the lumpy motel mattress, I was thinking. What do I want? What was I gonna do? I got a good job. Good friends. My bartender knew me by name. Hey, if all I gotta fuck with is a whore wife, I'll just get away from her, and everything will be fine. Hey I got prospects, I told myself.

I slept the sleep of the just.

At lunch the next day. I used a phone number the boss gave me and set the wheels of the divorce in motion. I went in and signed the necessary forms after work, and arranged to have her served at her work. She's a secretary for Marston Trucking; the same place, ironical as hell, that Alan Whitley worked for. May the two of them rot forever in the place reserved for the devil and his stinking traitorous angels!

Morgan Halsey, a direct, though distant, relative of the WW II admiral was my law dog.

"Clyde, you get half and she gets half; that's pretty much it," he said. "You ain't got no children, so that makes it a pretty simple split. You okay with all of that?"

"Yeah, do it," I said. "I just want out. My woman has to be my woman. I don't share."

"Okay, my man, you got it," he said. It was almost 6:00PM and I wanted to get someplace where I could shed some stress.

******

"I wasn't there, but I hear there was quite a scene in the Marston main office yesterday," I said to the man sitting next to me. It was Monday, and I knew the bitch had been served.

"Yeah, Clyde, do yuh think! You nailed the bitch pretty good. I was there and I can tell you the tears never stopped falling. I think the bitch still loves you. Pity she feels the need to loan her ass out to all comers like that," said Ben.

Ben Gilchrist was my longtime friend, and coincidentally, the office manager at Marston. He'd actually introduced me to Adrienne twenty years before. I'd been in my mid-twenties then and Adrienne a few years younger. She and I had hit it off, dated for a few months, and finally married on Christmas Eve nineteen years ago. Now, it seems, it had all come to naught. I felt free, but I did not feel good. You don't have that much emotionally invested in someone and just forget about 'em and go on. I still loved the whore, but I couldn't deal with the betrayal; that was going too damn far.

******

I punched in and headed for the coffee machine. Helen, the boss' secretary, waved me over. "You got a couple of messages from your wife, Clyde. She sounded pretty upset."

"I ain't takin' no more messages from her, Helen. If she calls again tell her to call Morgan. She knows the number," I said.

"Okay, if that's what you want," she said, and she headed off toward her office.

Yeah, I expected the calls. But, I don't know why she was tryin' to call me. She knew that bein' with that man would kill any feelings I had for her, well, almost anyway.

******

The woman sitting next to her was almost sneering. "I don't know Adrienne. I mean I don't know why you're whining like this. You've been talking about getting away from him almost since I've known you, and that's ten years, girl," said Mavis Billings.

"I just don't know what I want," said Adrienne. "Yes, I know what I've said in the past, but now that it's come to this, I just don't know.

"Look," said Mavis, "Alan's a good looking guy. He's got a good job. If it's his dick you want, go for it, girl."

Adrienne, looked up at her longtime friend. "Maybe you're right, but I just don't know, Mavis. We've been together so long. We know everything about each other. He's had my back on any number of occasions, and me his. It just don't seem right him dumping me like this. If I could just talk to him, but; but, he won't come near me."

"Well, that should tell you something," said Mavis. "If he really cared, he wouldn't be getting' so all fired hot under the collar about a little playin' on the side.

"I remember you telling me that you told him what you might be doin' when he asked you to marry him. I also remember you told me he said that he could handle it. Well, he clearly can't," said Mavis.

"Yes, but that was just going out with the girls and having a good time, not, you know. But we changed over time. And then, Alan . . ."

Mavis looked exasperated. "Sign the damn papers, Adrienne, and let's get on with your life. There's a ton of guys out there dying to have a shot at you.

"You know, Alan has money, or will when his aunt dies. He told me so a long time ago and he wasn't lyin'."

Adrienne perked up. "Money?"

"Darn straight. Fifty-thousand dollars," pronounced Mavis. "That, girl, is a pretty good chunk of green."

"That is a lot," said Adrienne. She shook herself. "Maybe you're right. I guess I could do a lot worse than Alan Whitley."

******

She caught me at my place of work just as I was getting in to go out on a job. "Clyde?" She came to me looking a little unsure; I waited.

"Whaddya want?" I said.

She passed me the manila envelope. "I signed the papers," she said, "just like you wanted. I didn't want to just give them to the lawyer without saying a final word to you though.

"Clyde, if this is what you want then, okay. I would have thought you'd have given me a chance. But, okay. I will be moving on with my life now, I hope you will be doing good, Clyde. Goodbye."

I nodded. I was doing what I had to do; but it was the saddest moment of my life. She turned and walked away.

I saw her get into a car across the lot. It was Alan Whitley's car.

Six months later it was all over. The day after I got the final papers, I got seriously smashed.

******

I was sittin' at my usual place at Tribes when Ben came in. He took a seat beside me. "Buy me a drink," he said, "I'll tell you your fortune."

"That oughta be a worth a beer or two," I said. "Do I get to die? I wanna die."

For the next four days in a row, Ben and I met for drinks at the Tribes. I cried a little, complained a little, and sighed a lot. I was divorced, really and truly divorced from the love of my life, but I was not happy about it.

It was Saturday, the fifth day, that my life changed.

I was startin' in early at the bar. It was just after noon. I was alone. Ben hadn't arrived yet. I think his wife, Susie, was a little miffed at him for bein' late every day for the past several.

"You Clyde Bristow?" said a complete stranger.

"Who wants to know," I said. I checked him up and down. He was an older man and all business.

"I'm Mason Kellerman. I'm a lawyer. You're kind a hard to find, Mr. Bristow."

"Didn't know anybody was lookin'," I said.

"Well, as you are well aware your daddy died some time ago," he said.

"In 2000, so?" I said

"Well, he left you a few things. I mean in his will," he said "One of . . ."

"Will? What will? My dad said he was leaving everything to me, but he didn't say he had no will.

"Look I got all my daddy's stuff when we left Texas. That was four years ago. I gave away dad's trailer to my cousin; I didn't want it. So if this has anything to do with that . . ."

"No, no, nothing to do with that. It's about the stock he had. A thousand shares of Allied Chemical. He bought them when the company was new, more than fifty years ago actually. He bought in at ten dollars a share. I believe he worked for the company for quite a number of years too," said Mr. Kellerman. "Anyway, my father was his stockbroker."

"Stockbroker?" I mumbled.

"My dad did work for ACI. I remember that. I guess I was maybe twelve when we moved and he changed jobs. He became a real estate salesman. Never made much money at it though. We was always lookin' for the next buck. After my mom died, I left home and got me a job. Only saw my dad on holidays after that, and maybe a few other times, until his last illness."

"Yes, well, he did change careers, as you say, Mr. Bristow, but he kept the stock. With accumulated dividends, numerous share spits over the years, and the success of the company over time; you have four-thousand shares now. The stock price opened yesterday at $123 per share. Well, to put it simply, you've got roughly a half million dollars were you to liquidate today," he said.

I suppose I looked at him kinda funny. "Huh?"

"And, that's just the stock. You're dad has, had, land in Texas too. There's oil on it. Never been tapped,” said the visitor. “He didn't care about the oil, so my dad told me, or money either if it came to that.

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Anyhow, one of the big oil companies has submitted a bid on it, I mean the land. That's the main reason why I'm here.

"Frankly, I would have been here sooner, but you were; as I mentioned earlier, real hard to find. I mean Kentucky? It took a private investigator to do the job," he said.

"A bid? An oil company?" It was beginning to register. I had money.

"Yes, I have the papers with me. They're offering two million for the entire six hundred and forty acres including all rights."

I nearly fainted. We talked for a little while longer. We made an appointment to meet with Morgan in the morning.

******

The meeting was cut and dried. The stock would be liquidated and put into a guaranteed fixed annuity offered by my life insurance company. I was guaranteed $2500 a month for life. Ninety percent of money from the land sale after taxes I put into long term CDs at seven percent interest. I was single. I had a small but cheap room; I'd given the house to Adrienne in the divorce.

There was no alimony or any of that. So, I wanted her to have something; the house and the furniture were it. I just took my personal things and some pictures and books. My pickup was paid for. My needs were few.

I finally was able to quit my job. My knees were gettin' a bit beaten up layin' carpet, so the money was timely. With what I was getting from my annuity added to my social security down the line, fifteen years down the line, I would be havin' somethin' close to four grand monthly for my old age. Not too bad, and that didn't even count the big money. I was feelin' sassy.

I was feelin' sassy, but I was also feelin' careful. I made sure Morgan knew this windfall, for such it was, was not to be put out there for others to know about. I had a few of my dad's genes, I guess, I really didn't care about the money apart from the fact that I was able to quit layin' carpet and maybe do something else.

******

Times were good. I got on as a part time barkeep at Tribes. Well, I was a big guy, and I had plenty of experience messin' with drunk assholes. For his part, Larry was glad to have me on his side for once. But, truth told I hadn't started anything since the breakup with Adrienne. My heart wasn't in it anymore. Now, I helped keep the peace and learned to be a good purveyor of alcohol. Adrienne had married Whitley, I knew that, and they had moved out of town, 'Bama, I heard. My heart broke anew when I heard that. It almost broke again tonight.

I saw them come in together. But Whitley wasn't with her. I snickered to Larry who was standing beside me. "Looks like she's cheatin' on 'ole Whitley now," I said.

He looked at me and smiled. "Looks like," he said.

About ten minutes after she and her cowboy sat down at a table across the room she noticed me. I nodded to her. She said something to her sidekick and came over to the bar.

"Hi Clyde. Buy you a drink?" she said.

"Hi back atcha, Adrienne. Been a long time. Where's your hubby?" I said.

"Alan? We're divorced, a year ago. He couldn't keep it in his pants," she said. "And yes I know. Don't say it. I was just as bad as he was. But that was then and this is now. I'm not what I was and my needs are not what they were. Enough said."

I held up my hands in defense. "I wasn't going to say anything. How are things going for you? You look thin," I said.

She looked away. "Things are okay. How about you?" she said. She wasn't telling me something. But, she wasn't my worry anymore. She was somebody else's piece now. I let my curiosity go.

"Good. Real good," I said.

"How about that drink," she repeated.

"Maybe some other time, Adrienne. Your friend over there is watching you pretty close. He your husband?"

"Heavens no. Rod is just a friend. I was feeling kinda, bored, so he offered to help me out.

"How about you? Married? Girlfriend?" she said.

"No. Still single and in no hurry," I said. I couldn't tell her that I dreamed about her almost every night. The fact was I loved this woman, and I would never love another, and, I knew it.

I watched the two of them dance several numbers. After maybe two hours, the cowboy came to the bar to refresh their drinks.

"Two Cosmos," he said.

"Coming up," I said.

"She says you two used to be married. She was kinda down tonight, I think," he said. "But, seeing you made her feel a bit better."

"Oh?" I said. "Why would that be?"

"I don't know. She talks about you from time to time. But, her illness makes her melancholy most of the time," he said.

"Her illness?" I said.

"Uh-oh, you didn't know," he said.

"No, I haven't seen her since the divorce. What illness?" I said.

"Look, I shouldn't have said anything. It's cancer. Breast cancer. Please don't let on you know. I thought you knew. I mean the way she talks about you.

"I gotta get back she's gonna wonder why I've been so long." He picked up the drinks and made for their table across the room.

The room seemed to spin. I could hardly get a breath. I looked over at Larry and signaled him that I had to take a break.

In the back room the tears wouldn't stop. I headed for the John. I heaved everything I'd eaten the last three days. Cancer! Sweet Jesus! Cancer! I had to do something. I had to do something fast. I had money. I could do something. I wondered if that asshole Whitley knew about this. If he did and he left her because of it; I was going to kill him.

My first stop the following morning was Morgan's office.

"Morg, that's the way I want it," I said. "Get a private dick on it immediately. I want everything yesterday. Okay?"

"Okay, man. You got it. Let me say if you or her need anything . . ."

"Thanks, Morg. I appreciate it," I said.

The private dick was able to get everything in less than twenty-four hours, including her personal medical history. I didn't ask how. I read it and I was sick: maybe a year to live without the operation.

Well, she’d be having the operation. I was defintely going to see to that. Fuckin-A!

******

"She went in today, and the doctor informed her that the surgery was covered," he said. "And no, she doesn't know who’s paying. She asked. She demanded to know. But, the doctor did as you said. She was real frustrated."

"Thanks a lot, Tim," I said. "If I ever need a PI again, you'll be the guy."

"You're welcome. I hope it turns out okay," he said.

"I wish I could've been there," I said.

"She was happy, guy. Relieved. Without your help she didn't have much time. I got that directly from my friend there. For the record she cried nonstop after hearing the news."

I nodded.

******

I knew better than to do it, but I had to see her, and that without being noticed. I slid into the hospital late at night, long after visiting hours. I stole a smock, a surgical cap, a mask, and a cart and headed for the room number I’d found out from Tim.

Her room was glass walled. I stopped in front of it and peered in. She was sleeping, as well she might after midnight. She looked so beautiful. I was sick with longing.

I contacted Tim the next day.

"I know," I said. “Cost is no object. I just want to know what's happening. I have to know. Okay? I have to know."

Tim didn't argue.

Patient Adrienne Whitley, age forty-three was wheeled into surgery the next day. Her radical mastectomy and the first stages of the reconstructive follow up procedures were completed in six hours.

Her hospital stay was five days. Her next procedures were scheduled and set to be completed in five separate stages over a period of a few months. The good news is she was cancer free—crossed fingers that it didn't recur.

When she was released I was there. No, not to pick her up. Just to see her come out. She was picked up by her friend, Mavis Billings.

I never liked Mavis. Married three times. Each divorce the result of her cheating. I had to think that she was responsible for a lot of Adrienne's screwin' around.

Adrienne looked wan, but happy. I never felt more in love and happier in my life. I had given what I could, and I was feeling' real fine about it. But, she could never know.

******

I was talking with Larry and Ben when she came in. At first I was alarmed. I was afraid she knew. I needn't have worried.

"Hi, Clyde. Ben, Larry. Good to see you all," she said.

"Hello, Adrienne. You're looking good," I said.

"Better than I deserve," she said. "I had a bit of luck. Anyway, I'm fine now. Clyde, could I talk to you? I really need to talk to you."

I was suspicious, at this point I was certain that she knew what I'd done. "Yeah, I guess. Over there," I said. We headed for the same table she and the cowboy had been at that last night I'd seen him and her dancing.

Seated she got right to the point. "Clyde, I need to tell you some things, and I would be infinitely grateful if you'd let me get it all out before you say anything. Okay?"

"Okay, I guess," I said.

"Clyde, I love you. I know you don't love me anymore. Well, I don't think you do. But even so, I need to say some things." She swallowed.

"Clyde, I just got out of the hospital. I was dying, Clyde. But almost at the last minute someone, some anonymous person came to this woman's rescue. And no, before you ask, I don't know who, and anyone who might know isn't saying. I am just sick about that. I wanted to thank him or her or whoever and do it on my knees.

"Clyde, that's the good news. The bad news is that to save me they had to cut off my breasts. I am undergoing reconstructive surgeries over the next few months, so I won't look too bad after it's all done. But, my C-cups are gone forever, I'm afraid. I will definitely be a small A-cup when all is said and done." I started to say something. She placed her little hand on my lips.

"No, Clyde, let me finish. I have to do this and it's real hard.

"While I was in the hospital. I had time to think. Hell that's all I had time to do. I decided that when I got out I was going to come to you and apologize for being a perfect asshole. I risked it all and lost it all for a cheap thrill that frankly wasn't much of a thrill, cheap or any other kind.

"And—"

"And?" I said, breaking my agreement not to talk.

"And, I am begging you to take me back. Yes, I'm damaged goods, Clyde. Yes, I treated you like shit. Yes, I deserve to be unceremoniously kicked to the curb where I belong. But . . .”

I looked at her and "I" began to cry. She noticed and she wiped my tear away with her hand.

"Clyde, no one will ever treat a husband better than I will treat you if you have mercy on this old broad," she said.

I couldn't talk even if I'd wanted to. I took her in my arms and held her. I held my little woman. My woman!

"Clyde?"

"Yes," I managed, "yes." Now we both cried. Actually, I cried; she howled.

You might have thought that that was the end of things. But oh no. Fate had one last little trick to play on old Clyde.

******

The wedding was held in the old Baptist church by our old house. The reception saw many of our old friends come out for our second time around.

Ben and his wife were there and Morgan and Mavis and Larry and his wife and Tim. It was a good show.

Ben was talking to Mavis. He shouldn't have been; he was drunk.

"You're saying that our Clyde is rich?"

"Uh-huh."

"And he is Adrienne's savior, and she doesn't know it even now? Is that what you're saying?"

The two did not see the bride, who had just changed into street clothes for the ride to the airport to start her honeymoon. She was standing behind a curtain that covered the sliding glass door to the patio.

Adrienne almost fainted hearing them. She may not have been the swiftest in the race, but she sure as heck understood what they were saying. Her Clyde, he was her knight in shining armor. She knew what she had to do.

Passing through the door. Mavis and Ben shut up and smiled. Adrienne smiled back at them.

"Ben would you call everyone together, Please, I want to make a final toast before Clyde and I head out," said Adrienne.

"Sure bet, girl," he said.

In less than five minutes thirty guests were assembled on the patio. Clyde was off to her left four or five feet.

"Friends, I have an announcement and a toast to make.

"That I am the luckiest woman on the planet today there is now doubt. I have just married the greatest guy on the planet and that makes it so. But, there is one more thing I must do. And something I thought I would never have the opportunity to do. But first a toast to happy days and my good man."

The "here-here's" echoed for a full minute.

Adrienne put her drink down. She went to her smiling husband and sank to her knees. "Clyde, I love you. Thank you for saving me, my dear husband."

She burst out crying, and I stood there like a dumb ox. But the cheers went up right after her final words and I could do nothing but smile.

Married life was lookin' pretty good to me.

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Written by mattmoreau
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