The Benefits of Self Pity

It was the last morning of my last day, and it was not going to be a good one. My admin assistant saw it on my face as I walked into my office. She handed me my coffee; said I was free until 10 and shut the door behind her. Marge knew me better than anybody, especially when I needed to be alone, and I needed to be alone.

Last night, my wife busted the PI who I hired to follow her. She left a video message with him that they were going to send over in the morning.

There were things I needed to do, but first I opened my book, full of highlights and stickies. The book is called "The Benefits of Self Pity" and had been savior since my world went to shit six months ago. It followed the Serenity Prayer made famous by Alcohol Anonymous: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

But it took all those steps further. Not just accept the things you cannot change, but while you are wrapped up in self-pity, ask yourself why you can't change it, what would be the personal cost. Not just change the things you can but develop a plan while wrapped in self-pity and evaluate the effectiveness of your plan. In sum, life will suck sometimes, the hurt can be tremendous, and you will want to curl into a ball and cry. Do so, but put it to work for you.

Six months ago, the CEO called me into his office. We had been friends for years and normally he would just stop by my office. He probably wanted to talk to me about the merger our company was going through. I was worried because I had not been interviewed for any of the positions going forward, likely because being in my late 50s, I was too old.

"Jack," he said, "I'll be blunt, there doesn't seem to be in a position for you in the new company organization. This kills me, we've known each other for decades and climbed the corporate ladder together. I can't imagine coming to work and you not being here. There's a significant number of board members who are also disappointed with the outcome. Have you thought about retiring?"

"Yes I've thought about it. The complete lack of interviews has been telling me the same message you shared. I investigated retiring but I need another 18 months to be eligible and I don't think I have 18 months."

"As I said Jack, there are a significant number of board members who are unhappy with the way you're getting treated here, fortunately those board members are on the compensation committee. I think we have a way to get you over the hump if you're interested."

"That's the best news I've heard since they announced the merger."

"Great, I'm going to have Peggy from HR give you all the details. I think you'll be pleased at what the board decided to do, way more than I hoped for."

Peggy came down to my office later that day. Peggy and I never got along. It must have killed her to have to come to my office instead of being summoned to hers. She didn't get along with anybody except Bill and most people joked that she had pictures of Bill naked with farm animals.

Their offer was astounding, I would work until the end of the year, and they would add another 12 months to my employment, making me eligible to retire with full benefits. Since I was being separated as part of the reorganization, I would be entitled to a severance package, normally two weeks of pay for every year of service, but they were going to give me three weeks per year. Basically, almost 100 weeks of pay which I could take lump sum on my last real day of employment.

I took it, I would be a fool not to, but I didn't want to retire. My work had been my life, and I had no idea what to do about it. That's when the pity party started.

It was only a few weeks after my meeting with Bill that I received an anonymous email containing a picture of my wife, kissing a man with his hand on her ass. His face was blurred so I had no idea who he was. I recognized the dress she was wearing. She always looked hot in that dress, and it brought back memories of the nights I took it off her.

No job. No wife and I hadn't spoken to either of my two kids in years after I cut them off. I paid for their college education, and their weddings and gave them the money for the down payment for their first homes. Then my son wanted me to buy him a Tesla and my daughter wanted me to pay to have a built-in pool installed at her house. I told them both to fuck off. They both had good jobs.

So, I did what most men would do, I got shit faced drunk. Marge almost shit herself when I went into work the next day. She took the cup of coffee back and sent me home. She handed me a copy of "The Benefits of Self Pity" on my way out and told me that book and my shoulder were the only things that got her through the sudden death of her husband. He died when she first came to work for me fifteen years ago. One day her husband complained of a headache, and he was dead from a brain aneurism an hour later.

There's an argument on whether it was better to go quick or die after a long drawn-out illness. Me, I would like to go quick. Marge had only been my admin assistant for a year when her husband died. She never had a chance to say goodbye, or to apologize for the times she was mean to him, or to tell him how much she loved him. There were many days those first few months that she would hand me my coffee, put her head on my shoulder and cry. Those days got fewer and fewer, and she credited her recovery to that book.

My marriage was dead, all I had left was hate for my wife. My career was dead, granted I had a nice package, but what the fuck was I going to do with the rest of my life. My relationship with my children was past tense. I had never met my grandchildren.

I cried and I read the book, multiple times. During my multiple self-pity parties, I looked at my marriage. That had to change so I hired a private investigator and a divorce lawyer. I couldn't change my pending retirement, but I had almost complete control over what I did when I retired. When I was younger, I always liked the outdoors, I rented a cabin on a private lake in central Florida for three months with an option to extend for another three months. I also did a long-term rental on a car there. The cabin came with boats and off-road vehicles, I could have a lot of fun. I thought about my children and for now, I was going need serenity to accept what I couldn't change.

That brings us to the present day.

The PI company sent over the video message my wife gave to the PI; she was actually sitting in the car with him. He said he was waiting for her to come out of the restaurant when she opened the passenger door and sat down. She told him to video record her:

"Jack, what are you wasting money on private investigators for, especially as clumsy as this guy is. You want a divorce, and I want a divorce. You'll be served tomorrow at your office. I don't want anything from you, there's nothing you have that would be worth talking to you again. You can have the house; I don't want or need it. You can have your car, your 401k, your retirement and I'll keep mine. Although my 401k is healthier than yours, your retirement is better than mine, we're both well off and I don't see the need to fight over it. Don't think anything from your PI is going to influence the children, they have been fully supportive of my affairs since they began. I am sorry that your relationship with your children went south, I don't know what happened, but I assume your pigheadedness has something to do with it. Do me a favor and just sign the papers and we can move on. I hope you enjoy your retirement."

Marge was knocking on my door a few minutes later, she let the woman in who served me with divorce papers. When the woman left, Marge asked me if I needed a shoulder.

"Tomorrow maybe Marge, not today. It's almost time for our gallows march. Can you have a courier take this to my lawyer please."

Marge had decided to retire with me. She said it took her 15 years to train me, and she didn't have the time or patience to train someone new. There was a get-together in one of the conference rooms where we would hear a couple of speeches and say our goodbyes. We had spent the last couple of weeks emptying our offices. All my stuff went into the dumpster, I know Marge still had the picture of her husband on her desk along with a picture of her kids and grandkids. We left at noon, giving each other one last hug.

The next morning, I was on my way to the airport and my flight to Florida. There was a line from my high school graduation that said. "this was the first day of the rest of my life." "The Benefits of Self Pity" discussed that often and how to make the most of it. I flew first class, not the first time I flew first class, but it was always special. After picking up my rental at the airport, there was a two-hour ride to the cabin. I was surprised to see a car in the driveway. Maybe it was the owner or rental agent. It was not.

I climbed up the steps to the porch and Marge handed me a cup of coffee. Marge and I sat down on a couple of rockers looking out over the lake.

"Believe me Marge, I'm not complaining, but what are you doing here?"

"It was always my plan when I retired to spend a little time down here. My kids and grandchildren live in central Florida. I'm also worried about you, and I offered you a shoulder to cry on today. More than a few times over the last few months I have had to give you a gentle nudge to move out of your pity parties. Not as many times as I cried on your shoulder when my husband died. These next few weeks are going to suck for you Jack, your first Christmas and first New Years alone. Been there and done that. Add in not going to work on January 2, like you've done for the last 30 years. I want to be your shoulder for the next couple of weeks."

"You're going to stay here Marge?"

"If you'll have me Jack, I already moved my stuff into the smaller bedroom."

"I don't know what to say Marge."

"Then don't say anything. Let's get your stuff settled and there's a nice restaurant in town we can get some dinner Jack, I'm buying. Or do you want to get a shower first?"

Marge helped me get my bags into the master bedroom, and then she unpacked my stuff and started putting it neatly into the dressers.

"Are you mothering me Marge?"

"I've been mothering you for 15 years Jack, do you think I'm going to stop now because you're not my boss anymore? It would be best if you got out of my way and checked out the boats or something."

There was a boat shed with a small motorboat and a few kayaks.

Marge was always a take-charge kind of person and sometimes I wondered who was in charge when she worked for me. For years I tried to stop her from getting my coffee, I was fully capable of getting my own coffee. It was a perception thing she said. That didn't clear up anything for me, but I gave up, give me the serenity to accept the things I can't change.

As we got ready to go to dinner, Marge came out in a pair of jeans and a casual top. I've seen her dressed casual before, like casual Fridays at work and company picnics. Maybe I never let myself look at her that way because I was married or because she worked for me. Marge caught me looking and smiled at me.

We had a pleasant conversation over dinner, I was surprised how little I knew about her and how much she knew about me. She had access to both my company email and my personal email. She also had the passcode to my phone. Marge saw the video message from my wife and read the divorce papers. I did learn that she was a very outdoor kind of person but gave much of that up when her husband died.

She gave the kayaks to her kids and sold the bikes and camping gear.

On the first day we had a good time kayaking in the lake, there were a lot of exotic birds, well for us they were exotic. I grilled a couple of steaks while Marge made some sides. After dinner, we watched a movie on the cabin's streaming service. Marge sat on the other side of the couch from me.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Marge set up the world's smallest Christmas tree and made a nice Christmas dinner. I opened a bottle of wine.

Marge was up before me, had coffee ready and handed me a cup as I walked into the kitchen. She was antsy about something. She knew me a lot better than I knew her, but I knew there was something on her mind.

"Are you going to tell me Marge or are you going to make me guess?"

"What," she said.

"Come on Marge, spit it out."

She started glancing to her side, then I realized she was glancing at the tree, then I realized there was a present under the tree.

"Marge, you shouldn't have, I didn't get you anything?"

"I have a favor to ask instead but open your gift first."

It was one of those rugged outdoor type watches, waterproof to 300 meters, built in GPS, emergency alerts, compass. I had been pricing them, so I knew this cost almost $400.

"Marge, this is very nice but its too expensive. I was going to buy myself one, but I never got around to it."

"I know you were looking at them Jack. I originally was going to give it to you as a retirement gift so you could do that outdoors stuff, but then I got this crazy idea, so I saved it for Christmas.

I gave her a hug to say thank you. We've hugged each other a thousand times but this one felt different. I don't know why.

"So, what's this favor that's worth almost $400."

"We're invited to my son's for Christmas. I really want you to come with me."

"Ok why?"

"Two reasons, they are incredibly worried about me being retired and alone. Your presence will help them calm down, I hope. I love my children and my grandchildren but in small doses. I want them to see that I have a life outside them."

Marge drove us over there, as we got out of the car she took my hand. We had never held hands before. Her family was very warm and welcoming. Her kids recognized me from their father's funeral. The grandkids were very sweet. Made me miss my own. After the kids were in bed, we all sat around the table drinking coffee and Bailees.

Marge's daughter April, started the Spanish inquisition: "What are your intentions with my mother, are they honorable?" I was at a loss for words, Marge wasn't going to save me. Then they all burst out laughing.

"Sorry Jack, I couldn't pass up the opportunity," said April.

Marge's son jumped in, "Jack, April and I remember you very well from our father's funeral. You basically held our mother up for four days, never leaving her side. People were wondering if you guys had a thing going on. We set them straight. One day our mom told us that she goes to work every day and cries on your shoulder and that's how she was getting through each day. Believe me we couldn't be happier seeing you by her side."

Marge said, "Let's not get carried away here, Jack and I have been coworkers and friends for years and don't you start with thinking we have a thing going on. And I want the names of the people who were thinking that."

"Relax mom, that was 14 years ago. I'm glad you have a friend, that's all."

My retirement with Marge was so much more than I could have hoped for. We kayaked, we hiked, we spent a day fishing and decided we didn't like that, we took turns cooking, we toured central Florida. We bought bikes and a bike rack and spent hours riding different trails. Our only disagreement was because I insisted on doing my own laundry. We didn't notice that January 2nd came and went and usually after dinner we would watch a movie.

As I said, the first night we watched a movie, Marge sat on the other side of the couch from me. Each night she sat a little closer to me or would move closer after refilling our glasses. Maybe two weeks after that first movie, she was only a few inches away from me.

"Marge, would it be okay if I put my arm around you?"

"You're finally getting the hint? The real answer is, I think so Jack. I've never been with anyone other than my husband whose been dead for 14 years. In my mind, he would not be happy that 14 years later I had not moved on. Please go slow and have patience with me Jack. I have no idea where my emotions are going with this."

Marge leaned up against me and I put my arm around her. Little head thought about reaching for second base like I was a teenager in the movie theater. Marge asked me to go slow, and she was certainly worth having patience for. I had my own demons to deal with.

After the movie, I gave Marge a hug goodnight and went to kiss her cheek, but she turned, and my kiss landed on her lips. It was a short kiss, we parted and headed into our separate rooms. I had just climbed into bed when I received a text from Marge, odd since she was just on the other side of the wall from me.

"Sorry for doing this by text Jack, you would think by my age I would have better control over my emotions. I just wanted to tell you how great it felt to have your caring arm around me. Thank you."

I know I fell asleep with a big smile on my face.

We did some antiquing the next day. We normally held hands when we were out but now, I had my arm around her. The other difference that day was she asked me if I liked what she was wearing, it was a pretty dress and the way it hugged her curves made her look much younger.

That night, Marge snuggled against me as soon as she sat down. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her tight. She felt so good. At the end of the movie, she reached up and kissed my lips and then her lips parted. The kiss was much more passionate than anything I felt in years until Marge pushed me away and went running to her bedroom.

As I laid in bed wondering what happened, I received another text from Marge.

"I'm sorry for running away Jack. I wasn't prepared for how my body was responding to your kiss. Mentally I wanted to take this slow, but my body had different ideas."

We talked about it over breakfast. I assured Marge I was fine with taking it slow, and she should never apologize because she feels uncomfortable with something. That's how things went for the next week or two. We didn't watch a movie every night but when we did, I would try and take Marge a little further, flashing back to high school days. I didn't try to go to fast, one night I played with her breast through her night shirt. The next night she wore a t-shirt and shorts, and I pulled the shirt up and played with her nipples. I was sucking on one when she pushed me away. The following night I slipped my hand in her shorts and began rubbing her clit and her pussy lips. She came hard and cried on my shoulder.

There was another text message that night, "I'm sorry for crying. I wasn't sad. I haven't come that hard in forever and thought it would never happen again."

The next night, after the movie I slipped my hand into her shorts again. This time she spread her legs and gave me better access. I started sliding two fingers into her very wet pussy and she came almost immediately. She pushed my hand away. I was getting ready for Marge to run into her bedroom, especially when she sat up.

She took my hand and said, "Come on Jack, its not like I'm 18 saving me virginity for someone."

Marge took me into my room, stripped off her T-shirt and began kissing me hard. She pulled off my shirt and kissed my chest. I wanted her bad, so I pushed her back on the bed, stripped off her shorts and started kissing her thighs. I couldn't wait to taste her, and she couldn't wait either. In her boldest move yet, she pulled my mouth onto her pussy. It didn't take long for her to come and after she calmed down, I started rubbing the head of my cock along her slit.

"Do it Jack, I can't wait anymore."

Several times as I pushed in, she asked me to slow down or wait. She said she felt like a goddamn virgin again. By the time I was all the way in, she was coming, and I wasn't far behind. I warned her and she said go for it, she's been waiting a long time for this.

We snuggled, kissed, spooned and fell asleep.

Over coffee in the morning, Marge said, "I hope I didn't push you too fast last night."

"It wasn't too fast, is it okay if I said it was amazing?"

"Certainly, I am out of practice."

"Marge, is it okay if I said I love you."

She came across the room and buried her face in my shoulder, "Yes, it's okay Jack, more than okay. I've loved you for so long you wouldn't believe it. I knew you wouldn't do anything while you were married or while you were my boss. That's why I came here, so maybe I would hear those words from you."

We slept together every night after that. We didn't always have sex; we were in our fifties, but we were having an amazing time. I had dreaded retiring, fearing the loneliness I would experience, and I was anything but. Besides Marge, we had her lovely children nearby and would spend time together every other weekend. Her kids were pleased when they saw the occasionally public displays of affection between us.

We had been at the cabin for seven weeks when I received a letter from my daughter forwarded from my attorney.

"Dear Dad, Mom called me last week to tell me you guys were getting divorced. She also told us you were living somewhere in central Florida. My brother and I would like you to come visit us. We have a lot to talk about and this space between us has gone on too long. Love Jayne"

The letter included their current email addresses and phone numbers. Spending time with Marge's kids and grandchildren made me miss mine until I would remember Liz's video message on how my kids knew about her affairs and supported her. I could never get past that betrayal. I forward the video message to both their emails; the subject line was "Betrayal."

I received an email from my son, and he copied his sister.

"Dear Dad, my sister has been crying almost uncontrollably since we received Mom's video message to you, so I'll do my best to respond. Before we get into Mom's message, both of us wanted to apologize for acting like spoiled brats when we asked for a car and a pool. We drove home feeling so embarrassed. Thank you for the wake-up call and helping us grow up. I can understand why you think we betrayed you; I would certainly feel the same way based on the misleading information mom provided you."

"My sister and I caught Mom kissing some guy while they waited for the valet just after we had exited our car. She was embarrassed at first, told us it wasn't what we thought and please don't tell you. At no time did we say anything that would suggest we supported her cheating on you. To the best of our recollection, we didn't say anything because they quickly left in his car leaving us stuck in the middle. Neither of us have any loyalty to our mother. While mom was busy climbing the corporate ladder, you were the one who was at all our games and other school events. You were the one who financed our education while mom was certainly in a financial position to contribute but didn't."

"Mom was always distant; you were always loving, and you still were very successful at your work."

"There was no loyalty to mom, but it happened when our relationship with you was stressed. And that wasn't because of something you did; we were both too embarrassed to call you in the first place and then she dropped that ball of shit in our laps."

"We had to do something, and we came up with the idea of anonymously sending you a picture of mom kissing that guy. I pray that you received it. We thought we were clever and then we realized if mom saw the picture she would know exactly where it came from."

"We are both sorry our relationship got so fucked up. Please forgive us. We really want you to meet your grandchildren."

There were tears in my eyes when I showed the email to Marge. My simple response to my children was "When?"

My daughter quickly responded with this Saturday at 1:00? We all agreed.

Marge and I showed up at 1:00 and my very pregnant daughter opened the door. She threw herself in my arms and we both cried. My son soon joined the hug fest. When we separated, I introduced Marge.

In unison they said, "We know you. You used to be dad's secretary."

Marge said, "Well, I couldn't leave him to himself, who knows what would happen?"

Everyone had a great laugh at my expense. Then I introduced Marge to the spouses and my grandchildren, or I should say we were introduced to my grandchildren. My daughter caught Marge and I holding hands.

Over dinner she said, "So, how long have you two been an item?"

Marge looked at me and said, "I think two weeks ago, we crossed the line from friends and said our first I love you's. But I have admired and loved your father for a long time. I don't think I would have survived the death of my husband without your father's support. Those were dark days for me, and I cried on his shoulder daily for the first month or two. I also knew your father would never cross any lines with me, one because he was my boss and second because he was married."

"I was afraid for him those last few weeks of work, his wife was cheating on him, his relationship with you guys went south and the retirement was somewhat forced. Since I'm his secretary, I knew he was renting a place down here, so I put in my papers, booked an earlier flight to Florida, moved into the second bedroom and was waiting on his front porch with a hot cup of coffee when he arrived."

"Wait a minute, you came down here and my father had no idea you were coming," asked my daughter.

I spoke up, "I had no idea."

"Those are some pretty big dice to roll Marge," said my son.

"Well, to be honest, my kids and grandkids don't live too far from here, so I had a Plan B."

My daughter was excited, "So how long were you living together before you crossed this imaginary line? I want details."

"You my dear daughter, are not getting details except that it was five weeks after we arrived in Florida. You have to remember that Marge had never been with anyone since her husband died and I am still dealing with your mother's shit."

"Marge, I for one am certainly glad you're in my father's life. My mother and I were never close and when she called to tell us that she and my father were getting a divorce we were somewhat shocked and very worried for my father. I feel so much at ease knowing you are there with him," said my daughter.

"My kids feel the same way knowing your father is in my life. They knew how much he carried me after the death of my husband."

Now I realized how life with my wife had been torture, it didn't start that way and it creeped up on me slowly. Life with Marge has shown me the difference, when somebody holds you at night, when you see them smiling at you in the morning, reaching to hold your hand whenever you're near each other. I wonder if things were ever that way with my ex. It doesn't matter, I have them now.