Message-ID: <55193asstr$1169125805@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Original-Message-ID: <225310.95002.qm@web60412.mail.yahoo.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2007 21:59:39 -0800 (PST) Subject: {ASSM} A Different Sort Of Lifestyle 21 (MF, rom) Lines: 479 Date: Thu, 18 Jan 2007 08:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2007/55193> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, Sagittaria Lazlo Zalezac http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac --------------------------------- Never Miss an Email Stay connected with Yahoo! Mail on your mobile. Get started! <1st attachment, "Life01-21.txt" begin> A Different Sort Of Lifestyle Chapter 21: Morning After By Lazlo Zalezac Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2006 Relieved to see that her husband had arrived home safe and sound, Shirley stared at Daryl stunned by his haggard appearance. He was unshaved, his clothes were rumpled, and his eyes were bloodshot. She had never seen him look so bad in her entire life. She licked her lips nervously and asked, "Where were you?" "I slept in my car behind the waffle house," Daryl answered. His voice was dull and listless. He was tired and didn't feel like arguing. He'd spent an hour in his car thinking about his life after being asked to leave work. He had wondered how he ended up getting sent home from his job. "How did you end up there?" "I drove around for a while and couldn't think of any other place to go," Daryl answered with a tired shrug of his shoulders. "Oh." There wasn't too much for her to say. Daryl was basically a stay at home kind of man and didn't wander off on his own very often. Daryl went to the cupboard and retrieved a coffee cup wondering why she wasn't asking him about why he had left. After pouring a cup of coffee, he went over to the table and sat down. After adding two spoons of sugar, he tasted the coffee and grimaced at the harsh bitterness of old coffee. He pushed the cup away rather than drink more of it. At the sound of the lawn mower starting up outside, he said, "I guess we need to talk." "You were right," Shirley said. It hurt her to admit that his get tough approach had found fertile ground with Ted. "Really?" he asked wondering what had made her change her mind. "Ted told me that what you were saying was what he needed to hear. He was rather upset that he didn't listen to your advice earlier, though. He's upset about not having finished the school year." Daryl shook his head while considering how Ted must feel about his failure to return to school. He said, "I'll talk to him about that. I'll let him know that there's a difference between being a man and a superman. No one should strive to be a superman." "That would be good." Shirley looked down at her cold cup of coffee. Getting up, she went over to the coffeemaker to brew a fresh pot. Daryl watched her work knowing that she was using the time to organize her thoughts. It took three minutes to set up the coffeemaker. Turning to face her husband, she said, "I thought I could trust you." "What do you mean?" "You left last night and didn't tell me where you were going," Shirley answered. She felt as if he had betrayed her. He had left and there had been no way for her to re-establish contact. As far as she was concerned, she had to know where he was every minute of the day. Daryl thought about how he had felt after leaving the house the previous night. It had been horrible giving up like that, but he had run out of things to say. He said, "I couldn't stay here and listen to you accuse me of not caring anymore." "But you left me. I was sitting here worried that you were dead or dying somewhere and I'd never know," she said. Her tears were threatening to flow once again. It was only her anger that was keeping the tears at bay. The coffeemaker started gurgling as the last of the water was forced through it. Daryl shifted in his chair and stared at his wife. After seventeen years of marriage he knew when she was angry. He decided it was time to defuse the situation. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Do you want to see a marriage counselor?" "No, our marriage is fine," she answered. Getting up, she went to the coffeemaker and returned to the table with the pot. She refilled her cup and topped his. What she really wanted to do was throw it at him and scream, but she knew that wouldn't solve anything. "We need to do something. My boss sent me home from work and told me to get my act together. Another night like last night and I'll probably lose my job," Daryl said. The idea that he might lose his job was a devastating blow. She felt sick to her stomach. Everything they had worked for would be lost. There was no way they could make all of the payments if his paycheck were to disappear. Clutching her stomach, she said, "You can't be serious." "Very serious. Ever since Ted was attacked, I haven't had a decent night's sleep. I can't concentrate and my work has suffered." "But you've worked there for nineteen years. They wouldn't fire you because you came into work looking like hell one day." "Yes they would," he said. One didn't work in a place for that long without hearing horror stories about people getting fired because their boss lost confidence in them. Normally, they didn't watch the clock, but if they wanted to get rid of him they'd mark down each time he was one minute late. They'd mark down if he left work early. It wouldn't matter if he'd stayed late the night before. One day, he'd show up and be told that he was being let go for just cause. He said, "I've already blown my raise for next year." "Really?" she asked while topping off his cup with fresh coffee. "I'll tell the truth, I can't take another night of arguments. I'm doing the best I can with respect to this situation. I know you feel that it isn't good enough, but it is all I've got," he said while she carried the pot back to the coffeemaker. He watched her return to her chair. He took a sip of his coffee and frowned. She had topped off the old coffee with just enough new coffee to heat it. It still tasted bad. He got up and dumped the contents of his cup out, refilled his cup, and returned to the table. "They weren't arguments. We were discussing his problem," she said bristling slightly. "You just don't get it," Daryl said while shaking his head. In a flat voice, he said, "You weren't listening to me. You didn't want to hear what I was saying. There wasn't a discussion; it was a rant with me cast in the role of villain. I didn't deserve that. I don't deserve that." In light of Ted's comments, Shirley knew that he had been doing the right things from her son's perspective. It didn't change the fact that she thought Ted needed more from him than he was giving. She said, "I was worried about him and you weren't acting like you cared." Daryl knew that if the situation with Ted had been more serious, then their marriage would have been over. There wouldn't have been enough that he could have done to convince her that he was worried. If Ted had died, she would have said that he wasn't grieving enough. Taking a sip of his coffee, he looked at his wife realizing that the woman he was looking at was a different woman than the one he had known the day before. It wasn't that she was any different; it was that he was seeing her differently. Sighing he said, "I thought we had a good marriage. We talked about our days. We worked together to raise Ted. We even had sex once a week and it was okay. The past few weeks have made me look at our marriage differently. Last night, I decided that we don't have a good marriage." "What do you mean?" Shirley asked with a sick feeling in her stomach. "I mean, we didn't discuss anything substantive about our lives. We haven't discussed any plans for the future or things that we can do to be happier. We've been coasting through our life talking about the weather. Is that the foundation for a marriage? I don't know, but I do know that I expected more from a marriage. "Even raising Ted, we basically went through the motions on autopilot. We got him dressed and off to school without taking a deeper interest in his life. Why didn't we notice that he didn't have a girlfriend? A boy his age should be dating, but he isn't. That boy, Harry, gave Ted more advice about women than I've given him his entire life. It is wrong and I don't know what to do about it. "Our sex has been pretty vanilla and without passion. How in the hell did we end up with Tuesday night being our night for sex? I mean, Tuesday night? When was the last time that you dressed up and tried to look sexy for me? I don't remember when it was. Even our anniversaries are pretty tame. Dinner and then come home. We rub bodies for a while before going to sleep," Daryl said. The disgust in his voice was obvious. Shirley, feeling sick to her stomach, listened to Daryl knowing that every word he was saying was accurate. Their marriage had seemed good, but neither really looked at their marriage with respect to how fulfilling it was. It had never been tested with adversity. They had been coasting. Each of them had their roles and went through the motions of fulfilling them. She stammered, "We don't need to go to a marriage counselor." "Do you want a divorce?" Daryl asked thinking that if they didn't address their problems they would end up divorced. His question was too much for her to deal with. Ted had been attacked, his job had been put in jeopardy and now even their marriage was on the rocks. What had been a very secure life had become a very insecure life. Shirley didn't like insecurity. She stood and raced to the bathroom. She made it just in time. Bent over the toilet, she voided the small breakfast that she had eaten. She couldn't see because of the tears in her eyes. In the kitchen, Daryl listened to the sounds of his wife retching in the bathroom. He rose and went in to make sure that she was all right. The only other sound was the low rumble from the lawn mower. In a way, he wished there was something to distract them from their problems, but there wasn't. Reaching the bathroom, he rubbed a hand along her back and held her hair out of the way. She looked pretty pathetic bent over the toilet bowl. It was not the reaction that he had wanted to achieve. He had wanted her to look at their marriage with the same kind of honesty with which he had examined it the previous night. It took a few minutes for her to recover. Straightening up, she moved over to the sink to wash out her mouth and her face. She didn't speak to Daryl; not even to thank him for his concern. She didn't know what to say to him. Her entire life was spiraling out of control. The only thing she really had control over was her appearance. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she said, "Get out of the bathroom. I want to take a shower." Her words came out harsher than she had intended, but Daryl understood. The idea of taking a shower appealed to him as well. He turned to leave the bathroom while he said, "I'm going to take a shower upstairs." "Don't take all of the hot water." "Don't worry about that," Daryl replied. He closed the door behind him. After a few seconds, he could hear her start the shower. He went upstairs to the master bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he shook his head at the sight that stared back at him. He grabbed the toothbrush to get the taste of camel shit out of his mouth. Feeling good about having mowed the lawn, Ted entered the kitchen and looked around. His parents were nowhere to be found. It took him a minute to pick up on the sound of the shower upstairs. Believing that all was well, he dug into the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of orange juice. Looking around, he decided it was safe and took a drink out of the bottle. The sound of his mother clearing her throat startled him and he turned to look at her feeling guilty at having been caught. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Sorry." Rather than launch into her standard tirade, she said, "Just use a glass next time." "Okay," Ted answered bothered by her appearance, but unable to identify why he was bothered. He studied his mother. Her hair was wet and she was wearing her house robe. She always wore a nightgown under her robe, but there was no trace of it. It didn't look to him like she was wearing anything under it. That was odd since his parents were a pretty conservative pair. Even his father wore pajamas under his robe. Shirley didn't know what to do. She needed to have a long talk with her husband, but she felt that they couldn't talk with Ted around. There was no way that she would send Ted away since it wasn't safe outside the house. She sighed and sat down at the table while holding her robe closed. She didn't say or do anything except stare at the tabletop. His mother's behavior worried Ted. He'd never seen her act like that before. Usually, she would be bustling around the house taking care of it. He couldn't remember a time when she just sat in the kitchen doing nothing. He sat down at the table with her. In a soft voice, he asked, "Are you guys getting divorced?" The question struck her like a slap in the face. Trying not to show her real feelings, she answered, "I don't know." "You need to talk to Dad," Ted said understanding that they wouldn't talk in front of him. "It can wait," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. Normally a very calm and balanced kid, a small kernel of anger rose up and took control. Jabbing his finger in her direction, he shouted, "It can't wait! You have to talk now! You aren't getting divorced without putting up a fight! I won't have it!" His reaction startled Shirley. Ted had never raised his voice to her and the furious expression on his face was frightening. She said, "Calm down, Ted." "I won't calm down, damn it," he shouted while standing up to lean over the table while glaring at her. The one constant through his ordeal was the firm belief that no matter what happened to him that both of his parents would be there for him. Her dismissive attitude towards the problems in the marriage undermined that belief significantly. "Don't swear," she said. "Why in the name of hell shouldn't I swear? You're fucking giving up. You have no right to tell me what to do if you just give up," he said using words that he'd never said in front of his mother. Shocked at his coarse language, Shirley shouted, "Theodore Malcolm Brown, you are not to use language like that!" Looking at his mother as if she were a complete stranger, Ted realized his mother was in denial. He turned and ran to his room. His world was coming apart and his mother didn't seem to care. She stared at the door wondering what had gotten into him. Daryl came down the stairs in time to hear the last of the outburst. Rather than head to the kitchen, he followed Ted into his bedroom. He didn't bother to knock since he knew that Ted wouldn't want to talk. He found Ted lying on his bed pounding the mattress with his fist. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Daryl said, "Young man, I understand." "What do you understand?" Ted asked with more hostility in his voice than he had intended. "Your world got turned upside down two months ago, but you knew there was one constant that you could depend upon. You could depend on us being there for you. This morning, you discovered that it wasn't such a sure thing," Daryl said. He fiddled with the tie of his robe for a second and then asked, "Am I right?" "Yes," Ted said looking at his father. "We're having a rough time right now. That doesn't mean it is over, just that we're having a few problems." "She doesn't care!" "Oh, she cares. She just doesn't want to worry you about our problems. She thinks that you wouldn't be able to handle it. I think you can," Daryl said turning his head to look down at his son. Sitting up, Ted asked, "What's the matter?" "Oh, I think we've forgotten why we married. I know I've forgotten why I asked her to marry me," Daryl said. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Looking at the floor, he said, "We just have to work a little to remember." "She doesn't want to work at it though," Ted said. "She does, but not with you here. It's a catch 22. She doesn't want you here so that we can talk, but she doesn't want you to leave the house because she thinks the world is just too dangerous for you. Either way, she's fucked," Daryl said. Shocked at his father's language, Ted didn't comment immediately. He knew that his mother was going to have issues with him leaving the house without her or his father going with him. Shaking his head, he asked, "What should I do?" "How about calling that fellow, Harry, and seeing if you can visit with him for a while? They had a pool. Maybe you can go swimming with him," Daryl said. "He didn't invite me to call," Ted said. His mother was a stickler for not imposing on people. One of the worst things a person could do was invite themselves when they weren't wanted. "Tell him the truth. Tell him that you really want to get out of the house before you go crazy," Daryl said. "You mean I should tell him about you and mom needing to talk?" Daryl looked at Ted for a second and then answered, "No. You don't want to stay in the house all summer, do you?" "Not really." "So tell him that. Ask him about the martial arts that he mentioned last night. Ask him about his dating advice." "Okay." Daryl watched his son for a minute and then said, "That kind of reminds me of something that I wanted to say to you earlier. There's a lot of difference between being a man and being a superman. No one should try to be superman. There's a time to admit when you're weak and that you need to retreat. There's nothing wrong with that. It gives you a chance to heal and come back stronger. If you don't recognize your limitations, you'll bite off more than you can chew and then you'll be the one that gets eaten." "Why are you telling me that?" Ted asked. Daryl answered, "You did the right thing by staying at home after the attack. Sure, you could have gone to the school and taken your tests, but there's no telling how much more you would have been hurt." "But my grades," Ted said. "They aren't all that important," Daryl countered. He'd have been happy with the grades Ted earned in school back in his day. He patted Ted on the knee and added, "You'll make it up next year because you'll be strong enough to go back at it full force. That's the important thing." "It's just that I feel that I let everyone down." "Son, you're the only one who feels let down. Me, I'm proud as hell about how well you've handled this. You're probably doing better than your mother and I," Daryl said while standing up. Looking down at Ted, he said, "You're a good son. You've got nothing to be ashamed of." Ted looked at his father searching his face for any sign that he was lying. His father's eyes met his and he knew that his father was telling him the truth. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Smiling, he said, "Thanks dad." "You're quite welcome," Daryl said. He started to turn towards the door and paused. He added, "Now if I can talk to your mother like that, things will be a lot better around here." "You're the man," Ted said. He glanced at the phone in his room and said, "I guess I had better call Harry now." "Will you need a ride?" Ted thought about it for a minute and then said, "No, I can ride my bike." "That would be perfect," Daryl said nodding his head in approval. His son was taking control of his life again. It was a good sign. "I'll let you know what he says," Ted said. He wasn't going to talk to his mother until he was convinced that she was taking her marriage as seriously as his father. "Great," Daryl closed the door behind him after he left the bedroom. It would give Ted a chance to make the call in privacy and allow him to stand there for a minute marshalling his thoughts. He hoped that Harry would be at home and would be willing to entertain Ted for a couple of hours. The discussion with his wife was going to take that long. Rather than head directly to the kitchen where he expected to find his wife, he headed into the guest room. He couldn't get far into the room. There were boxes filled toys from when Ted was a little boy stacked on the floor next to the bed. The bed was covered with old clothes. Her sewing machine, which she hadn't used in years, was holding the door open. Reaching over, he opened one of the boxes and found that it was filled with paperback books. Looking at all the stuff piled on the bed and on the floor around the bed, it was clear that the room wasn't ready for guests. It would take him about an hour to move enough stuff out of the way for the room to be useable. He hoped that he wouldn't have to do it, but he desperately needed to get a good night's sleep. He left the guest room deciding that he would give his wife until after lunch to come around. If she continued to fixate on Ted's situation or tried to pretend that everything was all right, he would come back and clean up the room. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+