|
Infidelity: Is it a Zero Tolerance Game?
Michael's Story
As Michael Callahan, Jr. pulled into the Four
Seasons, he drove past the valet and into the parking lot jammed
full of Mercedes, Lexus, and BMW’s. He took the last handicapped
space. Michael Callahan was not handicapped, but he was broken.
Michael Callahan, age 42, happily married for 17 years, father
of two; Sammy, 13, quick-witted, over-achiever, hot-tempered, perfectionist—just
like his old man; and Sandy, 11, lover of animals, nature and free
speech—just like his wife, Anna. Michael, Harvard-educated
and a Rhodes scholar, was Founder and CEO of Callahan and Associates,
the top public relations firm on the East coast. He was a devout
Catholic and a workaholic. His friends nick-named him Midas years
ago because everything he touched turned to gold. Perfect job,
perfect wife, perfect family.
As he parked, a man began
walking from the hotel to Michael’s
black Bentley sedan carrying a shiny gun metal metallic briefcase.
The man, wearing a perfectly tailored dark pin striped suit and
high gloss wing tip shoes with a military-style flat top haircut,
weighed 250 pounds and stood six feet four inches. Basically, he
was built like an oak tree with arms. When he reached the passenger
door, he rapped on the window twice. The door locks popped open
allowing the man to enter. He opened the door and sat down, placed
the briefcase on his lap and closed the door.
"Good evening, Mr. Callahan." said the red oak
in a deep voice. "I
have my report, the photographs and the audio tapes. Would you
like to go over them?" "No. Here’s your check." Michael handed
the private investigator a check for $10,000. "Our business is
concluded. Please go." "Mr. Callahan. I’m sorry…" "Excuse
me," Callahan said sternly. "Our business is
concluded. You need to leave now!"
The P.I. placed the check in his briefcase,
locked it and exited the car. He left a large manila envelope on
the passenger seat.
Michael didn’t need to look inside to know what it contained.
He had already been briefed. It included pictures of his wife and
her lover; audio tapes of their conversations; records and receipts
of her secret life.
After checking into a two bedroom suite on the hotel’s top
floor, and ordering practically everything on the room-service
menu (none of which he ate), Michael turned on CNN. The Dow was
up, NASDAQ had changed little and his wife was not expecting him
home from his press junket to L.A. until tomorrow. He had come
home a day early. He was home but not in his home. Would he go
home tomorrow? Would he go see his attorney? Would he go to the
bank and close out his accounts and cancel his wife’s credit
cards? Should he buy a gun?
The next morning at precisely 6:30, he turned
on his lap top and typed into Google the words, "Why Do Women Cheat?" He
found an article by Vanessa Burton on Askmen.com that said women
cheat for six different reasons:
1. You stopped giving her attention
2. Lack/fear of intimacy
3. You change drastically
4. Someone is giving her more attention
5. You cheated on her
6. She’s just rotten
After reading the article, Michael took a shower,
got dressed, checked out of the hotel, did a little shopping and
headed home. "Hi, Honey! I’m home!" announced Michael as
he entered his palatial, 20,000 square-foot fortress. "Mike? Is
that you?" Anna
replied. It sounded like her voice was coming from the game room.
Michael thought this was quite appropriate.
If she wanted to play games with his life, his reputation, he was
up to the challenge. "Baby, stay there. I’m coming." Michael
said. He reached into a brown paper bag, pulled out his new revolver
and placed
it inside his coat pocket.
Anna ran up to her husband and gave him a big
hug and kiss. "Wow!
You’re home early. I thought your plane didn’t arrive
until five." Michael sat down behind his mahogany
desk and set the revolver down. "Michael! What are you doing?!
You know I don’t
allow…" "SHUT UP!" "SIT DOWN!" screamed Michael. She complied. "We’re
going to play a little game. I’m going ask you three questions.
If I don’t like the answer to any of my questions, I’m
going to pull the trigger of that gun. There are six chambers and
one bullet; it’s time to be very honest."
Anna’s whole body began to tremble and
tears ran down her face. "Michael," she said sobbing, "Please,
whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry." Michael
picked up the revolver and pointed it at Anna. "Question
number one: Have you ever been unfaithful to me?" "Yes. I’m
sorry. I was lonely. You were always out of town and…" "Shut
up!" Michael snapped. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry…" "Second
question: Are you ever going to be unfaithful again?" "No! No!"
Michael stood slowly and walked around the desk
toward her. "Third
question:" he placed the barrel of the gun to her temple. "Are
you sure?" "Yes, yes! I’m sure! I’m sorry. Please forgive
me. I love you, Michael."
Michael lowered the gun and placed it on the
desk. He hugged Anna for an eternity. When he finally spoke, he
said, "I know
I haven’t been the perfect husband. Let’s promise to
do better and forget this ever happened." They walked
out of the game room and up the spiral staircase to the bedroom.
As Michael turned to close the door behind them, they
heard a loud "BANG!!" "Where are the kids?!" Michael hollered frantically. "Sandy’s
over at Melissa’s spending the night and Sammy
is in his room!"
Without saying another word, they both ran into Sammy’s room
to find it empty."
Jackie's Story
"Come in, come in! Jackie, what’s the matter?
You look horrible! Are you crying? What is it!?" asked Rebecca,
Jackie’s neighbor.
Jackie tried to speak. She knew what she wanted
to say, but no words would come. She gasped a few times and took
one deep breath. Finally, she said with a quivering voice, "It’s
over. I’m leaving him."
Rebecca helped her friend out of her jacket
and put it on the coat rack near the door. Jackie had been a great
friend and neighbor during the past three years. They became friends
instantly after moving into adjacent homes, but had really bonded
after becoming pregnant at the same time and having their babies
within a month of each other. Jackie’s son Jonathan and Rebecca’s
daughter Shannon were 18 and 19 months old, respectively, and the
four of them did everything together--play dates, lunch dates,
and shopping trips. Their husbands worked long hours, (Jackie’s
husband, Mark, as an engineer and Rebecca’s husband, Steve,
as a financial advisor) so they often had dinner together, also.
They knew everything there was to know about each other, so she
couldn’t imagine what was wrong with her friend. They had
just seen each other that afternoon at the neighborhood playground
and she seemed fine…happy, even. She went to the kitchen
to open a bottle of wine as Jackie slumped into a chair and buried
her face in her hands.
Jackie finally looked up just as Rebecca put
a glass of wine and a box of tissue on the coffee table in front
of her. She reached for the glass anxiously. She didn’t drink
very often, but she felt like she needed a drink tonight like never
before. "Ok. What’s going on? Did you two get in another
fight about his working late? I thought he said his schedule would
lighten up this month."
"No, Bec. It’s not his schedule. I wish
it were that simple. I don’t even know where to start. I
guess I’ll just tell you straight out. Mark had an affair.
No …Mark has been screwing around! ‘Affair’ sounds
too quaint and sweet and innocent, doesn’t it? Anyway, he
came home from work tonight about 5:00. I knew something was up
because he hasn’t been home that early in over a year. It
was like I was watching a bad movie. ‘Jackie, we need to
talk. It’s nothing you did wrong. It didn’t mean anything.
I’m not in love with her; I’m in love with you. It
only happened once.’ Every sappy, disgusting phrase you’ve
ever heard came out of his mouth. I took Jonathan to my Mother’s
and intended to go back home to talk it out, but I can’t,
Rebecca. I don’t want to be in the same room with him. I
don’t want to hear him apologize. I don’t even want
to look at him. I can’t! Can I stay here tonight?" The tears
were rolling down her cheeks.
"Of course you can!" Rebecca replied as she held
Jackie tightly. "You know that. You can have the guest room. Um,
I…uh…I don’t mean to pry, and you can shut me
up and go right to bed if you want, but when…why…and,
for God’s sake, who?! Did you ask him?"
"You bet I did! I think he expected that I would
want details, because I swear he had his answers all scripted and
practiced. He said that he was lonely. He was working so many late
nights at the office and he missed me. That’s hilarious right?!
He missed ME, so he slept with someone else!? He needed companionship
and there she was—day in and day out—convenient—willing.
I’ve told you about her before, remember? Sarah; the one
who works down the hall from him. I’ve always been jealous
of her, you know. Not only does she have long legs and perfect
skin and perky, perfect….anyway…I’ve always been
jealous of how much she and Mark have to talk about. They have
the same educational background, went to the same schools, know
all the same people. I even told him once how I felt. He said I
was nuts; that he didn’t even find her attractive or interesting.
Not attractive or interesting, but worthy of a one night stand,
I guess. He said it was one time; a weak moment at the annual conference,
after too many drinks. I guess I believe him, that it only happened
once. I mean, I don’t know."
"What are you going to do?" It sounded lame,
but Rebecca didn’t know what else to say.
"I have absolutely no idea. I just need
to try to get some sleep so I can figure this all out tomorrow.
I have to pick Jonathan up at my Mother’s and try to put
on a happy face for him. Thanks for letting me stay. I don’t
know what I would do without you." The two friends hugged for a
long time.
The next morning, Jackie was greeted in the
kitchen by Rebecca and a big cup of strong black coffee. "He called…twice.
He wants to know when you’re coming home. I told him I’d
have you call when you woke up, but that I wouldn’t wake
you after the night you had. It was hard to be civil, but I managed."
"Thanks. I’ll call him in a minute. I just
want to pretend for a moment longer that we’re enjoying our
morning coffee together and that last night was a horrible nightmare.
I need to finish at least one cup of coffee before going home and
telling Mark that I’m going to give him another chance."
"What?!" Rebecca almost yelled. "I mean…really?
Wow. Are you sure you’ve had enough time to think it over?"
"Absolutely. I’m 35 years old with an 18-month-old
baby. I haven’t worked in over ten years and I have no college
degree. No thanks…I don’t feel like starting over right
now. We’re finally settled in the house, we bought the car
just a month ago, Mark is making a name for himself in the company
and I love not working. Besides…I love him and he’s
been a good husband. He’s a great father and Jonathan needs
his father in his life. He’s human. I truly believe that
he’s sorry and who am I not to forgive him? You know…’Let
he who is without sin cast the first stone.’ Forgetting will
be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I have to try."
ALTERNATE ENDING #1
The next morning, Jackie was greeted in the kitchen by Rebecca and a big cup
of strong black coffee. "He called…twice. Wants to know when you’re
coming home. I told him I’d have you call when you woke up, but that
I wouldn’t wake you after the night you had. It was hard to be civil,
but I managed." "Civil? You think you need to be civil to that bastard? Why?
Because he’s your neighbor and an upstanding member of this community?
Because he’s been married to me for 5 years? Because he’s the
father of your daughter’s favorite playmate? Please…don’t
force yourself to be sweet on my account. I certainly don’t plan on
it, so why should you?!" Jackie could feel the bitterness and anger welling
up inside her. She felt like crying, but wondered if the tears would come.
She had cried so much in the last 12 hours that she wondered if there were
any tears left.
"I’ll call him in a while. But first, I’m
making a call to my lawyer. Can you pick Jonathan up from my Mom’s
for me?" Rebecca was stunned. "Uh…yeah…of course I
can.
Did you say lawyer? Are you sure you’re not rushing things? Maybe you
should wait a few days." "No, Bec. I’m sure. I laid awake all night remembering
things…lots of things…that should have been clues. Hell, they weren’t
even clues. Any idiot should have known what was going on, but I didn’t
see it. I didn’t want to see it. The late night rings from his cell phone;
the times I tried to call his office AND cell phone and didn’t get an
answer; the password on his lap-top that he keeps changing; the restaurant
receipts; the business trip last month that he never wanted to talk about.
He even came home late from the office smelling like women’s perfume
several times, and I explained it away by imagining him in a crowded elevator
next to a woman wearing too much Chanel. He’s been lying to me, Rebecca,
for a long time. He promised that it was one mistake, one night, and that it
would never happen again. Well, I figure it’s been going on for at least
six months, maybe longer. I’m not going to waste what’s left of
my 30’s trying to hold on to a man who wants someone else. I’m
smart, attractive, resourceful… lots of things. I don’t want to
live my life being suspicious and bitter. If I stay, that’s what will
happen. I deserve better. I’m sure about this. Can I use the phone in
the bedroom?"
ALTERNATE ENDING #2
Rebecca looked at the clock. It was 8:30 and she was already on her third cup
of coffee. She had gotten Shannon dressed, Steve out the door and put a load
of laundry in without making too much noise, but she couldn’t believe
that Jackie was still sleeping. She knew that she must have been up half
the night crying, so she was hesitant to go and check on her for fear of
waking her from a much-needed sleep, but she knew Jackie’s Mother would
be expecting her soon to pick up Jonathan. She also knew that Mark would
probably show up at the door any minute wanting to see his wife, and Rebecca
really didn’t want to get in the middle of that mess.
"Shannon. Mommy is running upstairs for just a minute. You sit here and watch
the video and I’ll be right back."
She cracked open the guest room door very slowly.
When she didn’t see Jackie in bed, she opened the door completely.
She expected to see Jackie standing at the window, or on the phone,
or washing her face at the bathroom sink. Instead, she found Jackie
asleep in the easy chair in the corner of the room immediately
to her left. She was fully dressed, shoes and all.
"Okay," Rebecca said as she pulled open the curtains, "Time
to get yourself together, girl. You’ve gotta face this head-on,
like you always do. Come on. You can’t let Jonathan and your
Mother see you like this. You definitely can’t let Mark see
you like this." She was talking loud enough to wake Jackie, but
she remained still. She got down on her knees in front of the chair.
She placed her hand on Jackie’s arm.
"Jackie. Jackie. Jackie!" That’s when she
spotted the prescription bottle on the floor near the chair. She
picked it up. It was Mark’s prescription; sleeping pills.
The bottle was empty. She gently felt her neck for a pulse. Nothing.
She leaned over and put her cheek near Jackie’s mouth to
see if she was breathing. Nothing. Rebecca stood slowly, let out
a sigh, and turned toward the phone near the bed. She straightened
the throw pillows on the bed before sitting down on the edge. She
stared at the phone for a moment and then looked at her watch.
8:40.
"Mama!" Shannon squealed from the bottom of the
stairs. Rebecca cleared her throat. "Just a minute, baby! I’ll
be right down! Finish your juice for Mommy!"
Rebecca picked up the phone and dialed 911. The conversation lasted less than
3 minutes. She picked up the phone a second time. She dialed the phone number
to Jackie and Mark’s house without even looking at the phone. She had
it so engrained in her memory after dialing it day after day for three years
that her fingers seemed to know automatically which numbers to press. "Mark.
It’s me. You were right. She was suicidal. She took the pills out of
your medicine cabinet just like you said she would….What...Yes, I’m
sure she’s dead. She took the whole damn bottle. Yeah, she believed the
whole story about Sarah at the office."
by Fred Cuellar and Julie Seitz
BACK to
Infidelity Index
 |
