Cam Girls

Cam Girl

I walked in to see her sitting at the kitchen table. She looked like she had a full head of steam, but that was her usual look, so I didn't give it much thought. I saw she'd made a fresh pot of coffee, so I poured us both a cup and sat down.

"Something on your mind, Claire?"

"You fucking pervert! What is this filth?"

Oh, she had printed out a few of my favorites. I made a note to get some transferred to photo stock, maybe blown up a size or two. There were a couple that I would love to have as full-size posters. I picked them up and eyed them critically, putting a few of the best to the side.

"Well, honey bunny (she detested me calling her that), it looks like pictures of naked women. Beautiful, young, hard-bodied women. I remember when you used to look like that."

That was a direct hit. At forty, she started developing her soccer mom body, exercising like hell to keep it at bay. It gave her a little pause, making her even redder in the face.

"You bastard! These are cam girls! Girls you're giving money to! Why would you do that?"

I sighed. She wasn't going to like what was coming. "Because every once in a while, I like to talk to a woman who isn't too busy pointing out my shortcomings to have an actual conversation. It's cheaper than a therapist, and I get to see boobs. And believe it or not, it isn't sex talk. They could talk all the junk they want, but it means diddly unless I was right there in front of them. China is a college student, and this is paying her way. Alex is a single mother of two with no job skills but a great body, so she does her best to provide for her children. They could both be lying to me, but I doubt it. I'm already giving them a little extra without them asking, so what would they have to lose?"

"You will stop this instant! There will be no more money spent foolishly!"

It shocked her when I agreed. "All righty then! No more foolishly spending money! This is going to work both ways, right? No more shopping sprees, spa trips, or nights out with the girls. All that combined is probably more than four times what I spend on the girls. We'll have money hanging out of every pocket. It's a great idea!"

"What? Now wait a minute, this isn't..."

"Yes, it is! It's exactly what's going to happen. I can't wait! Of course, since you can't stand the sight of me lately, it'll probably be uncomfortable for you at first, but you'll get used to it. It might even cause you to have a conversation with me once in a while."

"That's not fair! We talk."

"No, we don't. Making pronouncements about what will happen in our lives isn't a conversation but a lecture. I tell you what, let's separate our finances and split the bills down the middle. That way, you can spend anything you have left over in any foolish way. Of course, that leaves me free to do the same. I meant to tell you, but couldn't get you to stop talking long enough to listen, but I bought a kayak. I used to love those things, and I've met a group that goes out most every weekend. Think how much freedom that would give you to pursue your hobbies. Of course, your spendable cash will be much less, so the presents to Markie will be fewer and farther between. I'm sure he cares enough for you that it won't lessen his affections."

She was red in the face and sputtering. I think she was surprised I knew about Markie. I mean, he was 32 and still went by Markie? Didn't say much about his emotional maturity. I knew they hadn't had sex yet, but I knew it was coming and had my ducks in a row. She was fighting a battle she couldn't win, in a war she didn't realize had been declared.

I sighed and got up, coming in a little later with a manila envelope. "Here you go. It's just the preliminaries, and we can adjust it, but let me give you the finer points. You can't get the house because it's still held jointly with my parents. You can get half of everything else, and I won't make much of a fuss, but if you get nasty, the gloves come off. You don't know what I know, or have the pictures I have, so you'd look mighty foolish if they came to light. Your mother might lose her standing in the Country Club, and your father does a lot of business with my company. I don't own any of it, but the man that does happens to love me like a son, and if it gets out you broke my heart, he might not feel so warm and fuzzy about your family. I would never do anything to hurt Dad's business. I like the guy. It's his daughter I'm having trouble with. Don't drag the whole family down this rabbit hole, because it won't end well."

Oddly, her mouth was moving, but for once, no sounds were coming out. I stood up.

"I have to go now. I'm going on a two-day kayak trip. I can't wait! It's easy water, which is good because I don't have the skills I used to have, but I hope this starts me on the journey to get me back. Have a good weekend. Say hi to Markie for me. He should be over the moon, with me out of the picture, he can step it up."

I changed into shorts and a T-shirt while she sat at the table, grabbed my backpack, and started out the door. She suddenly came back to her senses and jumped up.

"Don't you dare leave! We need to talk!"

"We needed to talk eighteen months ago when I asked if you had a problem. It may be too late, and for once in our marriage, you don't get to dictate terms. I'll see you Sunday, if you're still here."

She came to the door and noticed my truck for the first time. I saw the frown and grinned. I'd mentioned I needed a new vehicle, and she went on a long rant, saying we couldn't afford anything right now. She had a two-year-old Rav Four, and I'd had a ten-year-old Chevy with 145,000 miles on it.

It wasn't new, but I got what I thought was a killer deal. It was four-wheel drive, and the tires were brand new. Everything worked on it. The man had just gotten too old to drive, and he let it go cheap, so I bought it. There was a shiny new kayak strapped to the back.

I waved as I backed out of the driveway, feeling very satisfied by her expression.

..............................................................................................................

I had a ball. The trip was mostly lake work, but there were a few river passages and enough fast water to make sure I knew what I was doing. We camped at a designated area, and I surprised the group with my cooking skills, so much that I had to do most of it. Garrett's girlfriend Melissa was also pretty good, and we made an efficient team. The beauty of cooking was that we didn't have to clean up, so we got to sip coffee and critique her boyfriend and the others.

They asked about my wife, and I told them she had no interest in kayaks and camping, and that she was probably at a spa as we spoke, covered in slime with cucumber slices over her eyes. They laughed and changed the subject, discussing the Canadian trip they planned for late summer, four days of intense paddling and interesting rapids. I hope my skill level was enough to be asked to join them by then.

We parted at the pickup point with hugs and backslaps, and my happy face morphed into a sad one the closer I got to my house. As expected, she wasn't there and didn't breeze in until almost ten. I'm sure she was loaded and primed for a confrontation, but I was beat and looking forward to sleeping in an actual bed. I'd used my time wisely and moved everything into a spare bedroom with the attached bathroom. Right before I went to sleep, I locked the door. Then I propped a chair up against it, just in case.

She made a point of slamming things around and making a lot of noise. I woke up briefly and grinned before rolling over and drifting off again.

........................................................................................................

I was up early, dressed for work, with a fresh pot of coffee on when she dragged up. Claire got a cup of coffee first, then sat down and sighed, while I grinned. "Have a good weekend?"

She looked about ready to explode, then seemed to deflate. "I had a horrible weekend. Thanks for asking. How was yours?"

"It was both exhilarating and exhausting. I'm out of shape for kayaking, but it's returning to me. I'd like to work myself into shape before the Canadian trip they're planning for late August. I'm sorry you had a bad weekend. Markie not entertain you? Did he measure up, so to speak, or was his size just water cooler bullshit and fantasy?"

"I wasn't with Markie!"

"Sorry, dear. Did he have a previous engagement with another of his married sluts? He could pencil you in for the weekend after next. I'll be on another kayak trip then."

She refused to rise to the bait. Instead, she talked about money. "You split our bank account? Really?"

"I did. It would be a good idea, especially when the divorce comes. Cheer up, I don't think any of the money was yours. I'd be careful with it because I won't be contributing to it anymore. I put a little thought into it while I was on the water. I'm perfectly fine with cohabitating, at least for the near future. Thanks to my parents, we don't have a house payment, so the bills are minimal. You pay the phone and internet bill, I'll pay everything else, and we'll split the groceries. You pay your car insurance, and I'll pay mine. I have a car payment now, but I got a good deal and put a bit down to pay it off in two years. Yours is paid for and has low miles, so you should be good for another four or five years, if you keep the maintenance up."

"You may have to contribute some to Chelsea's college, but she has enough right now to last her through to her junior year, and surely by then we'll be able to cover the rest. Good thing we only had one kid, huh?"

"Oh, I'll keep the insurance on her car, so she doesn't have to worry about that. Does this sound reasonable to you?"

I almost enjoyed how her mouth opened and closed, but it was still a little painful. I thought we'd be forever, and now we'd be a statistic.

I rose. "Well, think about it. We'll talk tonight."

...........................................................................

Once on the job, I called the guy I'd hired to keep an eye on her. He'd wired the house for sound and pictures on Thursday before she got home. I paid for a month, figuring it would all be over by then, one way or another. He also shadowed her all weekend.

"All she did was visit people, mostly her family and yours. I got snatches of the conversations with my devices, and heard some interesting things while she was on the phone at home. She made sure she never went near the other subject that you had us tail, but they talked on the phone. I'll give you the transcripts, or you can listen to all the conversations once you get home."

I opted to wait and sent him a money transfer to pay for his services up to date. It was one of the reasons I'd split the money. I didn't want her to know I was watching.

I talked to my boss to get him up to speed on what was happening. He listened, then leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. It was his 'thinking pose', and I'd seen him sit for hours like that, but when he was done, he was usually decisive. I knew not to rush him, so I waited. Twenty minutes later, he started and looked at me.

"Is it too late?"

"It might be. She hasn't had sex with anyone yet, but she's been on dates with three different men. I don't know if she's looking to trade up or wants out. I know the last eighteen months have been hell on me. I didn't get to draw a breath until we bundled Kelsey off to college.

I did what you suggested and separated our finances. She's always taken her salary for granted, and it's always been play money to her. She hasn't had to worry about a bill in seventeen years so that it will be a harsh reality check. I don't think she can handle it."

"She will if she has no choice. Does she know I want you to have the company when I retire?"

Dan had been a family man all his life, and when his wife and two sons were killed in a car accident eight years ago, I thought we lost him. I barely knew what I was doing, but I held the company together until he returned to the living. He looked around, saw what I'd done, and made me his right-hand man. Right now, I'm making many day-to-day decisions, and he is shifting more of the responsibility over to me.

He met a widow five years ago, ten years younger, looking twenty, and they hit it off. She had to chase him because he was so reticent, but she finally convinced him to give her a chance, and as far as I know, they never looked back. She never had children, and they latched onto Chelsea. She became their granddaughter, and Mom would laugh about it, before she finally called Megan, and they met. They planned out Chelsea's whole adolescence and tried to influence her choice of colleges.

Her high school graduation present was a new car from both of her grandmothers, and she had to promise to spend time with them every chance she got. They collectively cried for eight hours. Claire seemed a little miffed they had left her out, but I convinced her it was a grandparent thing, telling her she'd get her turn in a few more years. That depressed her instead of cheering her up.

Returning to the present, I told Dan no. "Every time I was going to bring it up, she would launch into one of her tirades, so I just gave up, figuring she'd know eventually."

"Well, I'm going to structure it so she can't get her hands on any part of the company. If you're still together and work out your differences, it won't matter, but if not, I'd like to think that when you sit in this chair, she regrets her life choices."

He ended the meeting with advice. "You've got nineteen years together, most of them happy. While she's done some idiotic things, she hasn't done anything you can't work out, even if you have to have therapy. It's your call, I'll support you either way. I'm glad your mother is in Florida, well away from what may come."

So am I, I thought, as I hugged the man who was like a second father to me.

....................................................

I left work just after lunch, beating Claire home by about three hours, and spent the time reading the transcripts of her time away from me. She visited her mother, her sister, three friends, and called my mother, talking for an hour. She didn't go out otherwise, ordering takeout both nights, and the lights were out by eleven. The phone calls were enlightening.

Her first was to her best friend. I could only hear her side of it, but it was interesting. "Bets, I think he knows about my dates with Jim and Eric, and he also knows about Markie. I think I've seriously fucked up here. I still can't understand why I let things get this far."

"What? No! I hadn't had the first thought about leaving him. I just wanted something different in my life. I felt like someone threw ice water on me when he told me he knew about Markie and left me for the weekend. No, not leave leave, just for a float trip with some new friends. No! Not friends with benefits, well, as far as I know. If he did, what can I say? I haven't fucked anybody yet, so I'd have the high ground. If he's gone far enough to sleep with someone else, my opinion will matter very little to him."

"I have no idea what to do. Should I throw in the towel and say we gave it a good run? That scares the shit out of me. He's been my rock since I was a freshman in college. How do I convince him I want to stay married? Lately, my attitude and actions haven't helped. In the end, all I can do is tell him how I feel, leave it up to him, and hope he loves me enough to get over my stupidity. Yes, Bets, I know I fucked up, and I know how much pleasure it gives you to say I told you so. I would be pissed if I didn't know I deserved it. I gotta go. Yes, I'll give you an update. Bye."

The conversation with her mother was a little heated, and at one time her mom called her a silly bitch who didn't deserve me. That made me smile. Claire was crying when she hung up.

Then came the one I was listening for, the conversation with 'Markie'.

"I know he's not here, but you still shouldn't call me. He knows, Markie, I've been seeing you, and I'm paying for everything when we go out. NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! It would all be over if he came home and caught you here. And if we split, the gravy train would derail. The house is in his mother's name, and I can't touch it. Plus, he makes about four times what I do, and even if we split everything, it would be less than a hundred grand. No, dumbass, that's not a lot of money! Not in this economy. It would mean living in an apartment or a little crackerbox house in a not-so-good neighborhood. Yes, I would probably get a little maintenance for a few years, but it wouldn't let me live in the style I live in now. How about this, you get a job and come to me with a plan, and we'll talk. Don't call back until you do!"

She stared out the phone for a few minutes before walking into the kitchen, mumbling something that sounded a lot like 'stupid little bitch', and wiping her eyes. Sounded a lot like buyer's remorse to me.

................................................

Claire seemed shocked when she got home, and I had the grill going. Since I had the time off, I got a couple of really nice steaks, whipped up a salad, and even had a baked potato, something rare since we'd started the Keto life plan. I had to admit it was one of her best ideas. I'd already dropped 23 pounds, and while she wouldn't tell me, she had lost at least fifteen.

"Why are you home so early?"

"I had things to do and it was slow, so I took a few comp hours to take care of it."

She wanted badly to know what I had to take care of, but I think she was afraid of what I would tell her.

"Is one of those for me?"

"Of course, unless you don't want it. If that's so, or you have plans, I'll eat it tomorrow."

"NO! No plans, I mean. It smells great. Let me get out of these office clothes, and I'll make some lemonade."

Twenty minutes later, she came out bearing the pitcher and two glasses. I had to turn to hide my smile. She'd gone all out, wearing shorts she couldn't fit into last year and that were pretty tight on her now. She also had on a loose, sleeveless top and had lost her bra. I had a bland face when I turned back around.

"It's good to see you can fit in those shorts again. They always looked good on you. If you'll fix the salads, I'll plate the steaks and let them rest."

It was all so domestic it made me want to scream. For the last four months we'd barely spoken to each other, she ignored me, but now she was acting like the last year plus hadn't happened. I wasn't buying it.

She almost simpered over my semi-compliment. We ate, and she chattered away. Claire probably said more to me that evening than she had six months prior. I finally put down my fork and sighed.

"What is this, damage control? It's a bit late for that. What are you looking for here, Claire? I don't have a clue. You shut me out, spend money on things you want, including other men, and left me the burden of keeping things going. Then I throw what you're doing in your face, and suddenly I'm your bestest friend in the world?"

Her eyes were progressively getting wider, but I was on a roll. "Know what, I find your attempt at whatever this is sad and pathetic. If I thought for one second you were sincere and remorseful over what you've done, I might feel differently. The thing is, you're selling something I'm not buying. If you ever decide you want to talk, honestly and without bullshit, I'll listen. Not holding my breath, though. Tell you what, for just a few minutes, let's pretend it's like it used to be. I cooked it so that you can clean it up. Tomorrow, if you're here and I'm here and you fix dinner, I'll do the dishes and clean the kitchen."

I got up and walked away, hearing the sobs that started almost from the time my back was turned. They sounded real. Must suck to be her right now.

..................................................

A week went by. She came straight home from work every day and didn't venture back out. Claire walked around like she was on quicksand and was afraid to tread too hard.

I, on the other hand, found I didn't care. It was liberating not to weigh my words to avoid an explosion. I don't think she was pleased with my new attitude, but she could do nothing about it. There was no threat she could make, no action she could take, to get me back under her control, and it must have frustrated her incredibly.

I was packing up for my next kayak excursion when she appeared in the garage and watched me for a few minutes.

"Can we talk?"

"Do you remember how to hold a conversation? With me, I mean? What could you possibly say that would have any value to me?"

I knew it shook her, but she had that determined look I knew, so she carried on. "I want to talk about us."

"What us? It's been you talking for over a year, and I'd better listen. You haven't asked my opinion on one thing you've decided, so why would we discuss now? What could you possibly say to me?"

Her sigh sounded loud in the garage. "I don't know! If I did, I would have said it by now. You've tuned me out to the point I'm irrelevant to you. I know, I know, I did it first, but I've found it hurts. Was I that bad?"

"Absolutely. Nobody wants to start a conversation when the one you're trying to talk to is just waiting for you to shut up so they can tell you what will happen. I've thought hard, going back over the last couple of years, trying to pinpoint exactly when you stopped caring. I think it was about midway through Chelsea's senior year when you realized the nest would be empty. That should have been a great thing, because after 18 years, we could finally concentrate on each other. Man, I really got that wrong, huh?"

That's when the tears started, and I knew they were real tears, but really? A bit late. She was still standing there when I backed out.

The trip was easier this time, and I picked up a paddle buddy. Sara was a few years younger, and some asshole hit on her every trip, even though most of them were married. She was wearing a rock on her finger, making me wonder where her husband was.

"Do you mind? They won't approach me if I'm with you. Just so you know, I'm married, so don't expect anything."

I held up my ring. "Me too. Since we're not going to tear each other's clothes off in a bout of unrestrained lust, maybe we could talk."

She was 32 and had been married for ten years. Her husband was a lawyer, too busy with his career to start a family, so there were no children. Her voice sounded wistful when she said that, so I showed her a picture of Chelsea. "My one and only, all grown up and off to college."

"I would have loved to have a child."

"Then have one. You're not in the danger zone yet, but even if you were, there's always adoption or surrogacy."

"It's not that simple."

"It never is. It all comes down to what would make you happy, not anyone else. Believe me, I've had some experience with that in the last couple of months. Sometimes it doesn't matter what you do if they don't care."

"Sounds like a little in trouble in paradise."

"It hasn't been a paradise for a couple of years. I don't know what she wants, but it doesn't appear to be me. I threw in the towel a few weeks ago and told her how I felt."

"What did she say?"

"What could she say? Reality is stronger than hope. She's dated three guys so far, and while she hadn't 'sealed the deal', the fact that she's gone out with them speaks volumes."

"If she hasn't committed adultery yet, maybe there's hope."

"Thanks for the kind words, but I'm not holding my breath."

"It sounds like a confused woman, living in an alternate reality, to me. From what you told me, she never seriously considered the consequences of her actions, never thought through what she was doing. You forcing reality into her dream world may be the wake-up call she needed. Is it too late?"

I had to think before shrugging. "Probably. It's too hard to maintain a relationship when there's been only one in it for over a year and a half. She minimized me to the point of nonexistence, but when I pull the trigger to disappear, it seems that's not what she wanted. I don't see a way forward, I'd never trust her now, and I have a feeling if we did get back to even ground, she'd get complacent and drift away in six months or a year, then we'd be back to square one."

"Okay, but at least give her the benefit of listening to her. Hold at least one in-depth conversation before you walk away. That will tell you where she is now, not where she was then."

I sat for a minute, then splashed her with my paddle. "I hate it when women make sense."

She giggled and told me it came from living with a lawyer for so long. She'd have made a good one.

....................................................................................................

I came home and she seemed in an excellent mood. She didn't fuss, didn't rise to the bait I threw out a couple of times, even made my favorite dessert, chocolate silk pie. I almost asked her when she remembered she knew how to cook, but stopped, thinking of Sara and her advice. I even complimented her on the meal and the dessert. It was the first time she had grinned since it started. "I made three, but I'm not telling you where the other two are."

In the old days, I would have threatened to tickle the information out of her, then I wondered if she was still ticklish. Or even worse, how many other men had found her secret spots? It made me go quiet.

After she went to bed, I unlocked my laptop and reviewed the tapes. Besides going out to drinks with Beth and Jackie, her best friends since college, it seemed like another boring weekend. I heard the plan on the phone.

She called Beth first. They talked a bit before she asked if she'd be up for a drink with her and Jackie.

"No, he's not here. He's gotten a new hobby. One that doesn't include me, and he's gone this weekend. What? It feels shitty, all right. I don't know where he's at, who he's with, or what he's doing. It's driving me crazy. Let me beat you to it before you say I told you so."

There was more from the other end, and she sighed. "I know. I have no moral high ground. My opinion suddenly has no meaning to him, and yes, the shoe's on the other foot. Please don't lecture me! I know I fucked up; I don't need you to tell me that. I need my oldest friends to love me for a little while. Thanks, hon. See you at eight."

Jackie wasn't quite as blunt, but it must have been intense from Claire's end. I wondered why, she had divorced last year, for doing much the same thing Claire did, except she fucked all four of them. Hubby was not amused, and it could have gotten ugly until he threatened to plaster the pictures he had all over the internet. Jackie didn't come out well in the settlement.

She had tried to warn Claire about the hazards of playing with fire. "Yes, I know you warned me. I should have listened, but I would seem to be the stupid bitch everyone said I was being. No, I have no clue whether we'll stay together. I doubt it, by the way he's treating me. You're wrong, he's not being hateful, he's the opposite. He's polite, but I may as well be a piece of furniture now. He makes his plans and doesn't include me in any of them. What? I'd love to, as you put it, fuck him stupid, but the drawback to that plan is he isn't stupid, and he'd see right through me. I have no idea what to do."

Then Markie called. That conversation pleased me a little. "Listen, Markie, what part of leave me alone are you not getting? Do I need to use smaller words? I don't know what I was thinking, or what body part I used for brains, but the big head got a wakeup call. You talk a good line of shit, and you're pretty, but you're as shallow as a kiddie pool. Find yourself another sugar momma, one that will fuck you. It should be easy, there are a million women out there who are as stupid as I was."

He was loud enough that I could hear him over the phone, though I couldn't make out the words. She grinned as she held the phone away from her ear. When he calmed down, she lit into him again. "Why don't you do it instead of threatening. Come over here and straighten my ass out! My husband owns a lot of guns, and he taught me to use them. You darken my door and I'll take one of his shotguns and blow your pathetic dick off. That would solve a lot of future problems. Hello? Hello?"

She dropped the phone and grinned for a minute, then broke down and cried. And I mean, honestly cried. The last time I saw her do that, her grandmother had passed away. Maybe there was a little bit of the old Claire still in there.

I called the next day and cancelled the surveillance contract. I'd already learned everything I needed to know, and it would have been throwing good money after bad.

................................................................

I thought about it a lot over the next couple of days. I told my godfather about the conversations, and he smiled. "It looks like you had many more friends than you realized, son. I don't know what to tell you, other than don't rush things. Think it through. How does Chelsea feel about all of this? She doesn't know, does she? Keep it that way until you make a decision. "

Then Chelsea called me out of the blue, telling me she was coming home this weekend. "I would prefer you wait until next weekend. I have something planned this weekend, but I'll cancel it if you need to come. I suspect you've talked to your mother, haven't you?"

"She called. Why are you being so mean to her? Ignoring her, leaving her alone while you go off almost every weekend. She thinks you're getting ready to file for a divorce!"

I took a deep breath, hoping it would calm me. "I tell you what, baby, come on home. I won't be here, so you can take the time to do a little mother-daughter bonding, talk about all kinds of things, telling the truth, for instance. Maybe I'll see you next time."

She was still talking when I hung up, which hurt my feelings. I had always taught her to consider all sides of a situation before deciding, but she had rushed to judgment.

My darling wife knew immediately I was pissed about something, but she didn't say anything. We ate dinner in stony silence, refusing the pie for dessert. Claire cleaned the kitchen and sat down across from me. "You're angry, and I'm guessing it has something to do with me. What did I do this time?"

"Chelsea called me this afternoon. We had an interesting conversation."

Claire immediately paled. "I chickened out at the last minute. How do you tell your daughter her mom was about to become a cheating slut? I just wanted her to come home, and I swear I'll tell her the truth as soon as she gets here."

"Which version of the truth? Yours, mine, or the real truth?"

Claire rarely cried before the revolution, as I liked to think of it, but it seemed it was her go-to now. I didn't give her a shoulder or snuggle; I just pushed the box of tissues over. When she got done snuffling, she asked me what I wanted her to do.

"Tell her the truth. I was going to be gone this weekend, but I'll do a day trip and be home early. If you haven't cleared the air by then, I'll show her the PI report and all the pictures."

She seemed to sit there and deflate, looking about as small as I'd ever seen her. Claire got up with dull eyes and stopped just before she went to her bedroom. "I'll tell her. I'll tell her everything. Go out for the day, and I'll have it done before you get home."

She acted like she wanted to say more, but stopped and shuffled off.

...........................................................................

Sara could tell I wasn't concentrating, and that's not good when you're on the water. I slammed into rocks twice and flipped once. She forced me over into an eddy, holding steady with her paddle.

"Where the hell are you, because you're not on the river? You're gonna get hurt if you don't get your head out of your ass. I'm guessing it's your home situation. You wanna talk about it?"

We sat there for thirty minutes, and I told her what was happening.

She shook her head. "Here you go. Free Advice 101. Get your head straight and see a counselor, preferably as a couple. Air it all out, see if you can find a way forward. If you can, great. Suppose you can't, cut her loose and get on with your life. Either way, you'll eventually be a lot happier. Now get to paddling, before we miss lunch!"

I bumped enough to flip her, and pushed out into the current, laughing when she came up screaming my name. In admiration for my paddling skills, I hoped.

I apologized over lunch, giving her a lemonade from my insulated jug. It was ice cold, fresh-squeezed four hours ago, and mixed with lime basil for an extra kick. Sara loved it, insisting I share it with the group. Our unofficial leader was a county detective, a massive guy with a mild face and a razor-sharp mind.

"Do I have to go to the trouble of threatening you?"

"No, I'll keep it coming at least until the end of the season. Then the basil dies, but we won't be on the water much anyway by then."

Then we laughed, and I told them how it was made, which led me to promise them they could all have some live plants. If you grew one and let it seed, you had fifty the next year. Later, out on the water, Sara told me they would ask if I was interested in the Canadian trip. That made my day.

........................................................................................

My smile slipped away as I got closer to home. My daughter met me at the truck with a big hug. "Mom's an idiot. I hope I got my brains from you."

"She told you, then?"

"I suspect she left a few things out, but I got the high points. Or the low points. What are you gonna do?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure yet, but I can tell you I'm not returning to how it was after you left. I'm still unsure where her sense of entitlement came from, but she knows I sent it away. You have no idea how liberating it is when you let something that bothers you go and get on with your life."

"You guys gonna stay together?"

"I couldn't tell you. I believe she's truly sorry, but is she sorry she did it? Sorry she got caught? Sorry she didn't get to seal the deal with Markie? Sometimes, I think it might be time to pull the plug; other times, I think the old Claire is still there and suddenly woke up. For what it's worth, I haven't had papers served on her. Wanna go for fish tonight?"

She giggled and hugged me. "Think carefully, Dad. Old people have a hard time accepting change and facing the possibility that their glory days may end. Yes, fish sounds lovely. Are you going to let Mom come?"

"I hadn't planned on it. We'll bring her a doggie bag and smack our lips about how fresh it was."

I laughed at the look on her face. "Go tell your Mom to be ready in thirty minutes if she wants to go. I'll put the kayak away later, and we'll take your car. I'll clean up."

Chelsea loved steak and BBQ, but what Chelsea loved more than anything else was a big seafood platter with crab legs. When she was younger, I barely got to eat because I was too busy cracking crab legs. When she finally had to do it herself, she complained, saying it was so much sweeter if someone else had to do it.

We established a tradition early on. If it was her birthday, we had to go out for seafood, and I had to crack all the crab legs she wanted. She tended to want a lot, especially if she wasn't having to work for it.

She looked at the kayak before she went in. "You're gonna take me out in that."

"Nope. That's a one-man kayak. I'll borrow a canoe sometime, and we'll hit the water. Now go get ready."

I heard her shouting as she entered the house, making her sound like she was twelve again. "Mom! Seafood tonight! Dad says we have thirty minutes to prepare, so chop chop!"

I was glad we had three bathrooms, or we never would have made it. I was ready after a shower, shave, nice jeans, and a pullover shirt. It took a little longer for the ladies, but it was worth it. Both had on very nice sundresses, hair back in a ponytail, and minimal makeup. I had a twinge looking at them, remembering how it used to be.

Claire was nervous and skittery, but as the meal progressed, she relaxed, ragging Chelsea about her crab leg addiction and gently teasing me because I didn't like catfish. I know catfish isn't exactly seafood, but going to a 'fish camp' in the South was always included. I thought they tasted like seasoned mud. Give me flounder and deviled crab any time. We traded like we always did. Claire goes to everyone's catfish, Chelsea hogged the crablegs, and I ended up with three deviled crabs on my plate. None of us offered to share our shrimp.

The good mood slowly seeped away on the ride home, and our daughter bolted inside as soon as the car was switched off. I'm sure it was preplanned, but I was left standing with Claire.

"Thank you for tonight. It was like she was a kid again, and we were happy."

It was the opening I was looking for. "It was terrific. And, since you brought it up, can you tell me exactly when you stopped being happy? Was it some quirk or habit I developed that drove you away? Or did you look up one day, conclude it wasn't working anymore, and start auditioning a replacement?"

"Can we go sit on the swing? It's where I've always felt most comfortable. I won't try to snuggle, but if I do, tell me, and I'll back off."

We bought a free-standing swing when Chelsea was three. It had an awning over it, and was just the thing for summer nights under the moon. I can still smell the citronella candles and feel Chelsea's tiny arms around us as she snuggled. I also remembered when we had taken a sleeping daughter inside to bed, and then did our version of snuggling. I had thought about replacing it many times, but my girls would have a fit, so I had it rebuilt twice. It wouldn't need a third reboot.

I stopped and thought for a second, then shrugged my shoulders. I want to get it over with. I held the gate for her, watching her walk in moonlight, thinking how well she had kept her shape when many of our male and female friends had let themselves go. I also knew how hard she had to work to do it, and I thought she might have decided she'd be back on the market soon, so she needed to present a good package.

She looked over her shoulder. "What are you thinking about so hard?"

"You wouldn't like the answer."

By then, we had settled on the swing, and she automatically started a gentle motion. "I probably won't, but we need to talk to each other. What was it?"

"I was admiring your body and appreciating what it took you to achieve it. Then I wondered who you did it for? You? Any potential lovers you may have? And seriously, don't say you did it for me."

There was a short period of silence before she started. "I did it for myself. I saw how Janey and Meg ballooned, and after your shot about my weight the night everything imploded, I decided it would never happen to me. It was important to me, validation, maybe. I can tell you it was for no one else."

"What else did you do for yourself? You were a bitch to me for months, was that some validation as well? Were you tired of life with me? Is that why you dated? And before you say anything, I know you didn't 'seal the deal', but eventually you would have. Then where would we have been? You know, I would have divorced you as soon as I found out. Was the danger of losing the relationship part of the thrill? You need to be honest here, after so long listening to your bullshit I think I can tell if you start bending the truth."

It took her a while to answer. "I guess it comes down to selfishness. I was bored. Bored with the regularity of our relationship, bored with you and myself. I bet I asked 'is that all there is' of myself a thousand times. I wanted to do new things, try new hobbies, maybe travel a little. Just occasionally, I wanted to forget I was a mother and wife, and just be."

I was steadily getting angrier. "Tell me, do you remember me saying the same things to you right after Chelsea left? There are a lot of adventures I wanted to go on that you dismissed as silly or dangerous, none of which were true, by the way. It wasn't that you didn't want them; you didn't want them with me. Answer me this. Were any of the three guys you 'dated' auditions to replace me? Were any of the coffees, lunches, dinners, or little petting sessions to see if they were a little better? Don't answer, I probably wouldn't believe you anyway."

Even in the moonlight, I could see how pale she'd gotten, "I've fucked it up completely, haven't I?"

"Maybe. If you have, were the little adventures worth it? Worth spiltting our resources, screwing up our retirement plans completely what you had in mind? Growing old apart? You're still an attractive woman, and you've already proven I can be replaced, but I'm not a frog. I bet a faithful woman out there would be more than happy to share my life. Think about that."

She fainted, sliding off the swing before I could catch her. I picked her up, marveling how light she was now, and when she woke up, she latched onto me like a tick on a fat cow. I pried her off me after a few minutes and stood her up.

"You all right?"

The tears started, slow and gentle, the tears of the resigned. "No. I'll probably never be all right again. I screwed up my perfect life to chase dreams of the glory days, before remembering the only reason they were the glory days was because they were with you. I'm begging here, honey. Is there anything I can do to heal this?"

I thought back to what my float buddy had advised me to do. "I'm not making any promises, but do you think you'd like to see a marriage counselor, maybe help deal with what your actions have caused? I'm willing to go to a few sessions to ensure our decision is the best for both of us."

The tears of resignation turned to tears of hope, and I could hear the tone in her snuffling. "Really? You promise? I'll search Monday, then run my choices by you and let you pick."

"No new age mumbo-jumbo, no female led relationship bullshit, get a person with some experience with good reviews, and we'll give it a go."

.......................................................................................................

Chelsea gave us both hugs when she left and asked me to walk her to the car. "Mom told me what you offered. I'm really happy, Dad. Try to be reasonable and control your emotions, and if it works, great. If it doesn't, well, you tried, and I'll respect you for it. And I still want you to take me out on the water."

Tuesday, she came to me after dinner. "I made a list. They all look reasonable, have been in practice for at least eight years, and have consistent reviews. Look it over and get back to me, and we'll discuss it. I'm leaning towards one in particular, but I won't say who until you've looked them over."

I spent the next two hours researching the counselors. I immediately discounted one for no reason other than I didn't like her looks, and I discounted one of the men for the same reason. I made notes and asked her to sit with me and go over my inclinations. She surprised me by agreeing instantly about the woman and admitting she wasn't overly enthused about the man. I asked what her first choice would be.

"The husband and wife team," she said without hesitation. "Eighteen years of experience, the perspective of both sexes, and they have a very high approval rating."

"We're on the same page, then. See if you can get an appointment."

"Thursday, at four?"

"You already knew which one I'd pick?"

She giggled, the first time I'd heard her do that in almost two years. "No, just a guess based on twenty years together. Besides, I made appointments with all of them, just in case I guessed wrong."

"Excellent foresight, honey. It reminds me of..."

I trailed off, thinking of happier times. She probably knew what I felt and quickly guided the discussion to a different subject. "They want us to take full physicals, including many tests not normally done in a general examination."

"Why in the world would they want that?"

"Mr. Jenkins says sometimes unrest in relationships can be attributed to physical stressors and conditions no one was aware of. Of course, you don't have to, but I've already made the appointment. I'm still on your insurance, right?"

"Of course you are. I might have changed my habits, but I haven't come to any life-altering decisions. Yet."

Claire didn't know whether to be happy or sad, and decided to focus on the positive.

..................................................

That night, she made chili pie. We used to have it quite a bit when we started out, and hamburger weren't considered gourmet food. Claire had honed it over the years until it had just the right amount of heat and flavor. She had developed the habit of serving it alongside a chilled cucumber salad with red onions and fresh dill. A bite after a particularly hot chili mouthful could instantly soothe the palate.

I was so impressed when she presented it, I kissed her without thinking. She went pale, and I grinned. "Don't overthink it, Claire. Just enjoy."

We talked about our life, staying on safe subjects that wouldn't stir up new experiences to the forefront. Claire was astounded when I washed the dishes. We had a dishwasher, but I never got the hang of it and always did them by hand. She watched for a while before grabbing a towel and drying.

She invited me back to our bed, stressing she just wanted the closeness and wasn't expecting anything else. I compromised and snuggled with her on the sofa until bedtime. When we separated, she seemed happier than she had in a long while.

We both got physicals. The doctor thought Claire had a few hormonal problems due to approaching menopause, but nothing that would cause any significant personality change. Then he commended her for her weight loss. Mine didn't turn out as well as I hoped. He told me he was a little concerned about a growth on my left breast.

"What do you think it is?"

"Without tests and a biopsy, I have no way of knowing, but here's something you need to remember. Women aren't the only ones who can get breast cancer. I want you back in two months, just for a check-in. There are many reasons you could have a lump there, none of them serious or fatal, but still, better to be safe than sorry."

He scheduled a biopsy, and it came back benign, and he insisted on yearly tests going forward.

We had our first session with clean bills of health. The couple was in their late forties, married for twenty-two years, and started their practice after two years of working with others. They struck me as a no-nonsense, practical type of people. It was odd that as the sessions progressed, he turned out to be the softer of the couple, while she was much more pragmatic, even abrasive if she thought the situation warranted it. They made an excellent team.

In the first session, they split us up. The woman took me, while her husband got Claire. We spent the hour talking about the path that brought us to their door, and she seemed pleased with my honesty, even when I told him I wasn't sure there was a relationship left to salvage. Then she told me next week I'd be with her husband for the hour, Claire would be with her, and they wouldn't discuss what we'd told them until after the second session. The rest of the sessions will be spent together. They had suggested ten sessions as a bare minimum, and then they would give us their opinion.

We were both quiet on the way home. "Want to hear about my session?"

I glanced at her, noticing her tears in the passing streetlamps. "No, and I won't tell you about mine. Let's wait until the third session, and see what the experts say."

Then I smiled. "Now dry your eyes. It's late, and I don't think either of us is up to fixing dinner. Mario's good?"

It was her favorite Italian restaurant. She'd found it while we were dating and made me take her. We were there six times a year until last year, and I couldn't remember going once. Claire sobbed once, then wiped her eyes and grinned. "I'm getting the eggplant parmesan and not sharing."

"Fine," said in mock aggravation. "I think I'll get the loaded pizza, and don't dare tell me to share."

Of course, I ordered the large, knowing she would snag at least one slice. She did offer to share hers, but I wasn't a big fan, so she ate half of it before diving into my pizza. When we left, we had two containers to take home. She'd gotten a wine, and I had one craft cider, but after that, we stuck to water.

It was the first time she had ridden in my truck, and she talked about how nice it was.

"The old man I bought it from got all the bells and whistles, and it was top of the line then. I still don't know what half the controls are for. It gets me from point A to point B and can haul what I need, so I'm happy. I would like to get a little better gas mileage. When I get it paid off, I'll get a little jellybean that gets forty miles to the gallon for a commuter."

She giggled, and I remembered how much I loved hearing it. "Yeah, because you have such a long commute."

We lived 2.3 miles from the company I worked for. She had a forty-minute drive, and I could be there in five, something she complained about. I gave up after telling her for years to change jobs and get something closer. If she hadn't figured it out by now, she never would.

We pulled into the garage, and she asked me to sit briefly. "I want to thank you for tonight. The meal was great, but I'm talking about going to counseling. It tells me you haven't quite given up on me, and I will build on that. I've made some pretty stupid mistakes, honey, but I got a wakeup call, and I can promise you I'll never let it happen again. I don't expect you to believe me, but I intend to show you through action and deed that you can. Before I go in, can we kiss?"

It was a bad idea, leading her to confusion and false assumptions. All that went through my head as she crashed her lips into mine, and I just stopped thinking and went with the flow. The windows were steamed when she pulled back. Then she gave me a peck on the cheek and jumped out. I sat for a few minutes, thinking. Then I got out, showered, and went to bed in the guest room.

.................................................................................................

I got home from a day trip the next week, really pleased with my progress. The water had been high due to the rains, and as a result, it was flowing faster. We negotiated some class three rapids, and not one of us spilled. That evening, as we were packing up, I was offered full membership in the club and an invitation to go on the Canadian trip.

When I got home, my smile was nowhere as full as Claire's, one of those 'I know something you don't' smiles. Usually, when she got them, she would surprise me.

"I talked to some friends of yours, and they're a little pissed at you."

"Who?"

"China and Alex."

It took me a minute, but I got it. My cam girls. "Why in the world would you talk to them?"

"Because I wanted to know what you talked to them about. They wouldn't tell me shit, and were really protective. Alex told me I was the stupidest woman on the planet if I lost you. China said that if we did separate, we should let them know. I don't like her as much as Alex. You need to contact them. It would seem they need the money."

Then she grinned. "Don't worry. I tipped them well. China needed fifty bucks for a new textbook, so I sent it to her. Alex's son is coming up for his third birthday, so I sent her a hundred and told her to get him something nice on us. She was crying when we disconnected, and had to go off air for a while until she got her emotions under control. Go on now, talk to them. I won't look over your shoulder."

So I sat down in front of my laptop and looked them up. China was offline, but I left a message, and Alex answered right away, moving us into private chat. She was grinning like crazy. "I like your wife! You need to forgive her. She told me everything, a little too much in my opinion, but then again, I'm a stranger and she has no idea where I am, so honesty costs her nothing. She knows she screwed up, and she's hurting. You gonna stay with her?"

"I don't honestly know. I like the new version of Claire, but will it last, or will she revert to what she was as soon as she thinks we're good again? We'll see."

She updated me on her life and told me that if she could find a good enough job, her cam days would be over. I wished her the best and told her to use me as a reference. There would be no reason to tell anyone how I met her. Just before I signed off, she grinned.

"Your wife said if you contacted me to give you this." Then she stood up and shrugged, and her dress pooled around her ankles. She was completely naked, and she turned, wiggled her ass for a minute, before turning around and lifting her breasts, pinching her nipples. They shot straight out, and she giggled as she pulled her dress up.

"Just for you, honey. Have a good night and keep me posted."

I knew she didn't do full nudes and rarely bared her breasts. I sent her another hundred, telling her not to forget her little girl when her birthday rolled around.

Then I sat back and thought about the last few months.

............................................

We finally had a session together, and it was a little rough. I didn't escape unscathed. The woman chastized me a little, saying she got the impression I'd taken Claire for granted a little and that I needed to listen a little more closely when we talked. That was nothing compared to what she gave Claire, letting her know her poor choices had brought us to their door.

"He just fell victim to the pattern of an evolving, middle-aged life. He was happy and satisfied with it. Of course, he wanted a little more excitement, especially when you nest was empty, but he sucked it up if you were happy with the way things were."

That was the man speaking. The woman took over, and I marveled at how smooth they were and seemed to always be in sync. "The thing is, Claire, that wasn't what you wanted. To be clear, I don't think you fully realized what you wanted, just different, for lack of better words. Did you think your husband would tolerate you going on dates with other men, even if nothing sexually happened? It would have, somewhere down the line, if you had continued on that path. I believe he still loves you, but no longer trusts you to put the marriage first. If you're done with the marriage, look him in the eye and tell him, try to part civilly."

Claire was shaking her head vehemently. "No! I want my marriage! I want my husband!"

The man spoke up. "Why? I didn't hear any certainty when you were making those statements. You weren't happy with him; you don't go out with three men if you are. I think, Claire, we're wasting time until you admit the real reasons you were doing it. Speaking of time, it's time to wrap this session up. I have an assignment for you, Claire. Please explain why you think this marriage should continue and what you intend to do to make sure that happens. Be honest, by now you know we have an excellent bullshit meter, and if one of us doesn't catch it the other will." Then he put his focus on me.

"You do the same thing! Be honest. Your opinion is the weightier one. You figuratively have the upper hand, the moral imperative, however you want to call it. I think, in the end, it will be your decision as to whether or not this marriage continues."

It was a very quiet ride home. We stopped to get Chinese, because neither of us felt like cooking. After we ate and cleaned up, I asked if she wanted to talk.

"Not tonight. I need to think more before I act, and tonight's a good place to start."

...............................................................................................................

I struggled with the list of reasons to stay married. She had negated everything I wanted our life to be. In the end, I wrote one sentence. It would have to do.

"Because I still love her."

When we got to their office, hers looked like a slightly longer sequel to War and Peace. They looked at her and grinned. "We'll do yours last."

The woman took my paper, read it, and grinned. "Read it."

I looked straight at her. I added a little, but it was still very short. "Because I still love you. I don't love what you've become, but the old Claire? I'm sure she may still be in there somewhere."

Claire fainted. The man got her up and looked her over while the woman grinned at me. When Claire recovered, she threw her list into the trash. "I had a lot of words and reasons for you to stay, but in the end, promises, especially from me, don't mean much right now. Instead, I need to let my actions speak for me. The only promise I will make is that I will never be this stupid again, and if I find myself slipping, I'll leave and give you any terms you want in the divorce. I don't know what else to say."

"That'll do to start."

When we left, she was hanging on to me like I was the last parachute on a falling plane. It still took two days before I returned to our bed, and four days after that to get intimate. It was everything I remembered and more. It was a long night, and we slept in the next day.

We also talked a lot about every topic that came up. She decided to look for another job for many reasons. She hated her commute every day, an hour and twenty minutes wasted. Claire didn't say it, but many of her ideas came from the people she worked with, and it became a toxic environment. It took a month before she found what she wanted.

It was a job at my company, and she would work for me indirectly since I was the manager. Dan was still CEO, but he rarely interfered with day-to-day operations, though we had meetings twice a week to make sure he knew what was happening. He had to approve her job because she would be a no-hire if he weren't comfortable with it.

He surprised me by grinning. "I've never interfered in day-to-day operations since I handed them off to you. There will be two levels of management between you and the department, which is pretty autonomous aside from the weekly meetings, so you'll rarely cross paths, unless you want to. If any drama develops, she'll have to go. Good luck."

We didn't ride together because her hours were standard, and mine were not. There was always a fire that needed to be put out, and customers and vendors had to deal with it, so sometimes there would be a two-hour gap between when she got home and when I finally broke free.

"How do you handle it?" she asked me after working there for a few weeks.

"Handle what?"

"The pressure. I bet I hear your name called fifty times a day."

I grinned. "Most of it is trivial and handled in minutes. I'd rather put out a brush fire early than have the forest ablaze. That's why I have good managers. Most problems are solved before I hear about them."

Then she asked me why I hadn't been in my kayak lately.

"I had more important things to do."

"Well, I think you've resolved all your 'things'. You need to get back out there before you lose your Canadian trip. Block out a weekend when you're not with your club and take Chelsea out. If she gives a good report, I'll give it a try. I'm not horning in on your hobby, honey. I want to see what it's all about."

Well, that was unexpected.

...............................................................................................................

Two weekends later, I took my daughter out in a borrowed canoe. Initially nervous, she relaxed and started enjoying herself after an hour. A few club members were on the water, and we drifted together.

Sara was out with a friend, trying to get her interested in the hobby. When we pulled up on a sandbar to stretch our legs, she grabbed me in a big hug. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For telling me I had to make myself happy before I could make anyone else happy. I sat my husband down and told him I wanted a child before I got too old. He was against it initially, but after I impressed him with its importance to me, he gradually started to agree with the idea. The other day, he asked whether I wanted a boy or a girl, and I told him it didn't matter. He said he'd like to have a daughter, and maybe a son later. I cried for two hours. I threw my birth control away three weeks ago, and it takes a couple of months to clear my system. I'm hoping for a summer baby."

Chelsea listened to the exchange, frowning because another woman was hugging me, but she grinned by the end.

It turned out that Chelsea was a natural on the water, grasping the mechanics of piloting a canoe. It was a matter of nuances, a lean here, a paddle stroke there, and she had the basics mastered before we left the water. She hugged Sara when we got out of the water, thanking her for being my friend. "I've seen some of those girls in their tiny bikinis, watching Dad as he flexed his muscles as he paddled."

Sara grinned. "Your Dad isn't ancient, honey. He's in excellent shape and not unpleasant to look at. Since we've been out, a few have sent signals, but he's ignored them or changed the subject. If he and your mother divorce, plenty of women will apply for the job of stepmother."

That didn't go over well, and she was quiet the first part of the drive home, before opening up. "I want you to stay together, Dad. Mom may have had a hormone attack of something, but she's aware of what she stands to lose, and I think I can speak safely when I say she'll never be that stupid again."

I ruffled her hair as she got out of the truck. "You may be right, baby, but time will tell."

She grinned and blasted into the house, telling her mother she had a great time and should try it. Claire grinned while she looked at me. "I have to be invited first, and I'd like to see what it's like."

Three weeks later, I had Claire in a canoe. I chose a nineteen-footer so we could all fit reasonably well. Chelsea sat in the middle, giving Claire encouragement and advice, as limited as her knowledge was.

"Lean into it, Mom! Watch the rocks to the left!" I told Chelsea she wasn't helping, making Claire more nervous. She screamed the first time we bumped a rock in a small rapid. but after a while, she just grunted and kept paddling. She got good at reading the water. "Hard left!" she'd yell, then call out "straight down the middle!" or "Right! Right! Damn it, your other right!"Chelsea was laughing so hard she didn't even attempt to paddle.

We passed two guys from the club, and they took a second look at my girls. Chelsea had made a moderate attempt at a standard bikini, and Claire had gone all out, buying a new one-piece high on the hips and low in the top. Don's son caught up to us at a rest stop, and the next thing I knew, Chelsea finished the ride in his canoe. He was a decent kid, but it was my daughter, and no boy is decent enough, so we stayed close. When we landed, the phones came out, and this might not be the last ride they take together.

........................................

Chelsea asked her mom on the way home if she had enjoyed herself.

"It was great! I never knew it could be like that! We're getting a canoe, and next time your dad can ride in his kayak."

Then she thought about what she said. "That is, if your dad wants to." Two sets of puppy-dog eyes stared at me as we got out. "Dennis has an Old Towne he's trying to get rid of. It's a seventeen-footer set up for whitewater, which means it has extra buoyancy built in. I'll call him after supper, and if we can come to terms, Mom and I will pick it up Saturday. We'll take it out the next time you're home."

That night, after Chelsea was out with friends, Claire asked me timidly if I minded if they shared a hobby with me. "I've suggested doing something like this when the nest was first empty. Why didn't you check it out then? And no, I don't mind. Maybe you'll stop screaming like a little girl when we hit fast water and bounce off a rock if you're out long enough."

She giggled and grabbed my hand. "I'll learn. Maybe we can get Chelsea to tone down the bathing suit. I saw the looks she was getting."

"Momma got looks as well. You might want to modify your top just a little. There was a lot of nipple showing a couple of times."

She squeaked and instinctively put her hand to her breast. Then she laughed. "So, you let me ride the river giving boob shots? Did you like it?"

I grinned. "A little. You've always had a great body, and all the work you've been doing puts you down almost to the size you were when we got married. If anybody had said anything or made an inappropriate move, I would have taught them to breathe water."

She giggled, that happy sound from the past, hugged me, and went off to bed. When I got there, she was naked and waiting, biting the pillow at the end so she wouldn't wake our daughter with her screams.

Our sessions were over, and the counselors gave us a synopsis of our progress. "I think it's safe to say you'll be together for your fortieth wedding anniversary, maybe fifty if you're both in good shape. Here's what we want you to take away from this experience. Claire, speak up when something is bothering you. Don't let it fester inside you. Jerry, you need to be a little proactive. If you don't like the way things are going, vocalize. Make sure Claire knows how you feel. We're going to put you in our win column. Now get out of here, and don't come back."

.....................................................................................................................

I went on the Canadian trip. The natural beauty was incredible; it was in a wilderness area, and the scenery was amazing. Claire bought me a nice camera so that I could record the trip. She and Chelsea joined our group, going on safer trips until they got better, and they hit it off with the group. Chelsea and Morgan, the guy she'd shared a canoe with, would date when they were home, both in different colleges. They knew the relationship could only be casual, but they liked each other, so who knows what will happen?

Sara and Claire hit it off, so she and her husband joined our social circle. They talked almost incessantly about babies, so Greg and I talked sports. He was a gun enthusiast and talked me into going to the range with him. I hadn't shot in years, but I enjoyed it so much I bought a 20-gauge over/under and shot skeet a couple of times a month. Greg had a nickname at the gun club, 'Deadeye', because of his uncanny ability with a handgun. He was good enough to win about two out of three contests he entered.

He told me once that he carried concealed because of his career and some of the people he defended. It made me a little nervous, and he grinned. "It would have to be life or death before I resorted to using my weapon. Besides the emotional toll, even if you were completely in the right, the legal repercussions would be endless. I'd likely have to go to court, and as a lawyer, I can tell you, courts cost money."

"I hope you never have to experience that."

"Thanks. The odds are better than average, I won't. But I've had a few cases where the client didn't like the outcome, and the three years I spent as an assistant district attorney didn't win me many friends. Better safe than sorry."

A few weeks later, Sara burst through the door and went straight to Claire, yanking her up and into a bit of dance. "I'm pregnant! We're gonna have a baby!"

Greg came through the door grinning. "So much for waiting so we could tell them together, huh?"

They were giggling and talking about baby showers and nursery furniture, so Greg and I went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer.

He looked over at me. "Think I'm ready to be a Dad?"

It surprised him that I laughed so hard. "Hell no! But then again, no man in the universe was ever ready, including me. It will be a steep learning curve, but you'll be ready the first time they curl that tiny hand around one of your fingers."

.............................................................................................................

A few years later, I came home from work, noticing the small car in our driveway, idly wondering who it was. Claire had a big, smirky grin as she met me at the door with a big kiss.

"Hi, honey! We have a visitor, someone from our past, and she needs a job. I told her we'd help her out."

The woman rose as I entered, and she looked vaguely familiar. She grinned. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"Sorry. You look familiar, but I can't place you."

"Maybe this will trigger your memory." She grabbed her blouse, pulled it, and put the bra under it over her head. Her breasts were magnificent. Claire laughed so hard that she pounded the arm of the couch.

"China?"

She snorted. "Typical man. You can't remember my face or name, but you remember my boobs after four years. And my real name is Garnet."

She pulled her bra and blouse down, grinning.

I grinned back. "Well, they were impressive. I never thought I'd meet you in person."

Claire finally stopped laughing. "Garrie is what she goes by, honey. She just graduated with her MBA and needs a job. She reached out to me, and I told her to come here. Barbara is going to retire in nine months. Garrie would be a perfect fit. Check her resume, honey. You're not going to find anyone better. Think about it."

I checked her credentials, and Claire was right; she'd fit right in. I smiled. "Come to the office tomorrow, Garrie. Let me introduce you to the woman you'll replace, and we'll talk salary."

She had dinner with us, and as she left, she hugged Claire. Then she grinned at me. "To be clear, that was the last time you'll ever see the girls in all their glory. I wouldn't have done it today if Claire hadn't put me up to it. You got a good wife there."

"Don't think I don't know it. See you tomorrow."

I walked back in, and Claire stood up, yanking her top off. "They're not as pretty as hers, but you still like them, right?"

To answer I latched on to them, and alternated licking them and sucking on her nipples. We never made it to the bed, and she grinned as I upended her onto the couch. "Aren't you glad we went for stain-resistant fabric?"

The next morning, as we got ready for the office, I thought about Alex and wondered what had happened to her. Claire grinned. "She got married and just had a baby. Her husband owns his own remodeling business, and she works in his office."

"How do you know this?"

"I kept up with both your girls. You never knew it, but you helped them financially occasionally. Alex named her daughter after me. If it had been a boy, it would have been yours."

"Wasn't that a bit odd?"

"At first, but when we talked, she mostly asked for advice. She once told me I was the closest thing to a mother she'd probably ever have. They're coming out in July, on their way to the beach. Her husband wants us to take them on the water. Chelsea will watch the baby, and the oldest will be in the canoe with us."

"Does he know she was a cam girl?"

"I don't think so. She asked my advice, and I told her what was in the past should stay there. She hadn't been in front of a camera in years, and I doubt they'll ever encounter someone who recognises her."

.............................................................

They did come for a visit. Claire drooled over the kids, giving Chelsea pointed looks. She hadn't found anyone yet, but she was looking. Her job as a vet kept her busy, but we knew she was seeing a young man whose father owned one of the biggest farms in the area. She had her kayak by then, and pretty soon, he was a regular with the group.

By now, 'China' was a de facto daughter. She and her fiancé were at the cookout. I saw her and Alex off to the side, whispering, grinning, and shooting looks at me. Then Claire and Chelsea joined the group, and the way they talked and laughed made me think I had just gained another daughter. Our home soon had pictures of grandchildren on almost every wall.

Life was good.

..............................................

My godfather retired two years later, giving me 75% of the company, keeping the rest as extra retirement income. They moved to Florida and bought a condo in the same complex as my mother. When they told her about Garnet, she flew up for a week to inspect her. At the end of five days, she told her she'd passed the test and was now an unofficial granddaughter. Then, after she grilled her new husband, she told them she expected at least three grandchildren, and now would be a good time to start a family. Garrie's the production manager now, and I feel like if I ever decide to retire, she could handle it.

A year later, Mom, Megan, Claire, Chelsea, and Dan wore grooves on the floor while Garrie was in labor. Her Dad showed up and was as nervous as everyone else. Her Mom had passed years ago. I sat and grinned at the nervous energy in the room. When the nurse came out and told us it was a girl, the tears and laughter started, then the ladies went in two by two to see her. When it was my turn, Garrie wanted me to hold her, and as I looked into her eyes, I started thinking about a trust fund for her college.

My Mom and her Dad hit it off, having dinner a few days before she left. He was six years younger, and I teased her about it. She shrugged. "If we get together and he can't keep up, I'll trade him in for a younger model."

They talk on the phone at least once weekly, and he spends vacation time with her. Garrie giggled about it. "If they get together, my father will also be my step-grandfather." Then the girls collapsed into gales of laughter.

Chelsea ended up bearing three children. A daughter, followed two years later by twin boys. We've just about given up the water, though we sometimes take the families out on the lake. It takes eight canoes and four kayaks for everyone to be together.

...................................................................

About two years after we almost divorced, I was in a pool room on the other side of our town. My uncle had been a shark in his day and had a table in his basement. He taught all the nieces and nephews to play. I was pretty good, but my cousin Jenny was an absolute shark. My Uncle Clyde said she was better than he'd ever been. She almost entirely paid for her college degree with winnings from the pool tables. We used to play in doubles tournaments, but the opposition came to recognize us, and it got harder to get matches.

I hadn't played in years, but Jenny's husband invited us over, showing off his new table. Italian slate, marble, leather pockets, and cue sticks were custom-made of exotic wood and tipped with water buffalo hide. He was pretty good, and I wasn't trying hard, but he caught it, grinning. He was in a billiards league and told his friends. They brought me in as a ringer, and we wiped the competition out in the first season.

The room was several cuts beneath the places we usually played, just a glorified pool hall. Still, the people were friendly, and beer is beer whether you drink it from a bottle or a frosted mug. I was matched with a guy who should have been a pro, and he waxed my ass. My friends thought it hilarious. We were walking out after the match when a guy ran through the parking lot screaming, and a guy with a baseball bat was right behind him. I recognized the guy in front as they flashed through the parking lot lights. Markie was pulling away, terror gives you an edge.

When he came by us, I 'accidentally' pushed my stick between his legs, glad I hadn't broken it down yet. His feet flew out from under him, and he tumbled forward, resting under a light. It ruined the stick, but it was worth it. His pursuer was on him instantly, and several resounding "THWAKS!" echoed across the lot. The guy gave him about eight or nine solid hits, then pulled his head up by his long hair.

"If I ever catch you sniffing around my wife again, Markie, I'll beat on your balls until they're jello. Understand, asshole?"

He was nodding weakly, and just before he walked away, he gave him one more lick directly to his balls. Markie let out a little high pitched whine, pissed all over himself, and passed out. I stepped over him to get to my truck, marveling at him keeping the stupid nickname as a man over fifty.

Greg was staring at me. "Know this guy?"

"I know of him, and I can tell you without reservation he got what he deserved."

He never said another word, but he must have told Sara, who told Claire. She burst out laughing when she told her the name they had heard. "No wonder he's been smiling so much lately."