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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Different Sort Of Lifestyle 26 (MF, rom)
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Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2007 03:10:04 -0500
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Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
 
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<1st attachment, "Life01-26.txt" begin>

A Different Sort Of Lifestyle
Chapter 26: Despair
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2006

Ted and his father were in the garage working on the lawnmower. 
Ted held the blade in the vise while his father turned the screw that 
closed the vise. Once he was satisfied with how tight the blade was 
being held, he stopped. Ted let go of the blade and stepped back. 
Daryl reached over to his workbench and picked up the file. 
Handing it to Ted, he said, "Okay. Let's see you sharpen the 
blade."

Holding the file at forty-five degrees, Ted ran the file down the 
length of the blade just like he had watched his father do on the 
other end of the blade. After taking a couple of strokes, he asked, 
"Why are we sharpening the blade?"

"So it cuts the grass rather than tearing it," Daryl answered with a 
smile. He watched how Ted used the file and nodded his head in 
approval. 

"How often should it be sharpened?"

"Once a month or so," Daryl answered.

"Oh," Ted said. He tried to remember if he had ever seen his father 
sharpen a mower blade, but couldn't. Confused, he said, "I've 
never seen you do it before."

"Well, I usually do it once a season," Daryl answered. 

Ted worked with the file until there was a nice edge on the mower 
blade. Stepping back, he asked, "How's that?"

Looking over the blade, Daryl answered, "Pretty good. Let's put 
the blade back on the mower."

A comfortable silence settled over the two men while they worked. 
Daryl stepped back and watched while Ted tightened the nut that 
held the blade onto the shaft. He said, "Your grandfather used to 
own a lawn care company. When I was your age, it was my job to 
take care of his mowers. Every week I sharpened the blades on 
four lawnmowers. Once a month, I changed the oil. At the end of 
the season, I rebuilt each engine."

Ted looked at lawnmower and asked, "Could you show me how to 
rebuild the engine on this mower?"

"I've got a better idea. How about we find an old mower and you 
can fix it up," Daryl suggested.

Inside the house, Shirley stood at the front window with her arms 
crossed over her chest. She was still dressed in her night gown and 
robe even though it was early in the afternoon. It was just too much 
effort to dress. She didn't have anywhere to go and no one who 
would notice anyway.

Frowning, she watched the two men working in the garage. When 
Daryl patted Ted on the back, she swore her son grew an inch. 
Shaking her head, she didn't understand how she had become the 
villain in the house. Daryl was sleeping in the guest room and Ted 
had talked to her only once since `The Morning.' That was how 
she thought of the day Daryl had moved out of the bedroom. 

"It's not fair. Daryl didn't care that Ted was hurt," she said for the 
thousandth time. There was no one to hear her complaint. 
Watching her son, she asked, "Why does Ted take his side?"

When the pair turned around, she could see their faces. They were 
laughing about something, but she didn't know what could be 
funny. Nothing was funny anymore. She held the top of her robe 
closed and watched while they put the lawnmower away. She said, 
"I wonder if I'll ever find anything funny again."

She stepped away from the window and went into the kitchen. Her 
kitchen, her hide-away from the rest of the world, was no longer a 
happy place. The past ten days had been pure hell for her. She 
wondered how Daryl and Ted could be happy. It defied all reason 
as far as she was concerned. They should both be as miserable as 
her.

Looking around the kitchen, she wished that she was cooking 
something. There was no need to cook that day. They had been 
invited over to a barbecue that evening at the Anders' house. She 
didn't want to go, but it was the only thing that Ted had asked her 
to do since `The Morning.' Shaking her head, she said, "There's no 
way that we can hide our marital problems."

She sat down at the kitchen table and opened the yellow pages. She 
read the names of the marriage counselors over again for the tenth 
time trying to decide if they should make an appointment. She 
didn't want to do it, but she was beginning to get desperate. Every 
attempt that she made to explain her position to Daryl ended with 
him staring at her and then walking out of the room. Maybe a 
marriage counselor would make him listen. 

Her tears threatened to return. Looking down at the surface of the 
table, she said, "It's not fair. He didn't care that Ted was hurt."

She slammed the telephone book closed and stared at the wall. She 
wondered how everything fell apart on her. Her tears made good 
on their threat to return. Sobbing, she covered her face wishing that 
it would all come to an end. If only he would admit that he was 
wrong, then everything could go back to how it had been. 

The problem was that he didn't want it to go back to how it used to 
be. He wanted something more and that just confused her. As far 
as she was concerned, their roles were well defined. She was the 
wife and he was the husband. She cooked, cleaned, and raised Ted. 
He provided for the family and took care of the house. 

She didn't understand his insistence that they should work to have 
a better sex life. She frowned while trying to figure out what he 
meant by that. She wondered if he had suddenly turned into some 
kind of pervert who wanted nothing more than kinky sex all of the 
time. The idea sent a shiver of disgust down her spine. After all, 
the whole point of sex was to have a baby and keep a man healthy. 
With birth control, the only thing that made sex necessary was to 
keep the man healthy.

---

Cathy was seated by the pool waiting for Sam to arrive. The sense 
of disappointment in her family life had been slowly growing over 
the past week or so. She felt that she wasn't appreciated in the 
manner that she deserved. 

From the way her mother talked, a person would think that she was 
a slut driven by hormones. She knew the truth; her mother was the 
one who was a slut. She'd heard her mother begging her father for 
sex in the kitchen. It had been the most disgusting thing she'd ever 
heard. That hadn't been the first time her mother had lost control. 
There were still the stains from the sweet and sour sauce in the 
dining room. If anyone had a problem with hormones, it was her 
mother.

She couldn't blame her father for being a man. Her mother had 
begged and he had responded. Everyone knew that men didn't 
have control. That didn't soften the disgust she felt at the grunts he 
had been making. Just thinking about her parents doing it made her 
feel dirty.

She was very disappointed in her father. As far as she could tell, he 
didn't love her. It was true that he said the words to her but only 
after she had practically begged him. She felt that he was just 
saying it to get her to be quiet. If he loved her, he would say it 
without her asking him. 

Although her feelings towards her parents were enough to depress 
her, she felt that her brother was a glory hog. They were all making 
a big deal out of him getting a driver's license and he was eating 
up the attention. She had expected him to keep his head, but he had 
disappointed her.

Sam would be coming over soon. That was the bright point in her 
miserable existence. He loved her. She knew that because he said it 
over and over. She felt that such attention deserved its reward and 
Sam was going to get rewarded during the barbecue. The timing 
was perfect.

---

Harry knocked on the entrance to the den. Looking up from his 
desk, Greg said, "Come in, Harry. What's up?"

"I'm just worried about tonight," Harry said. 

"Don't be worried. All we are doing is having a barbecue. If they 
choose to talk to us about their problems, we'll offer what little 
advice we can. Putting expectations on it won't help," Greg said.

"I know. We went to Karate lessons yesterday and Ted was really 
down about the situation with his parents," Harry said. 

"How did the lessons go?"

"We did a few exercises. Then we all stood in a line and punched 
the air. It wasn't exactly what I expected," Harry answered with a 
negligent shrug of his shoulders. The fact was that he had been 
very disappointed with the lesson. 

"Give it some time," Greg said sitting back in his chair. He 
gestured to his other chair and said, "Have a seat."

Harry sat down and said, "I guess. It just wasn't what I expected."

"Look at it as a chance to do a little exercise, visit with your 
friends, and meet new people," Greg suggested.

"I didn't think about it that way," Harry answered. He had hoped 
that after the first lesson he would know how to defend himself. 
Perhaps his expectations were unrealistic.

"Tell me a little about Ted."

"You know that he's a year younger than I am. I'd have never 
talked to him without the attack taking place, but I find that I like 
him. He's smart. I mean, he's real smart. He reads a book every 
week and I'm not talking trash novels. He reads classics, history 
books, and science books," Harry said. Half the time, Ted was 
talking about books of which he had never heard. Curious, he had 
purchased one of the books and started to read it. It was a pretty 
good book and explored ideas he had never considered.

"He reads a lot," Greg said nodding his head. 

"Yes." 

"What else do you know about him?"

Harry frowned a moment and then said, "He's a nice guy. I mean, 
he doesn't hate anyone. Being small and smart he gets picked on at 
school, but he doesn't hate anyone. There are a number of people 
who he avoids, but he doesn't hate them."

That observation impressed Greg. He hadn't thought Harry knew 
to make that kind of distinction. It also made him reassess his 
opinion of Ted. His first thought had been that Ted was desperate 
for friendship. Even if that was the case, he felt that maybe the 
friendship would be of benefit to his son. He said, "That's nice."

"The other day we were talking about responsibility. Ted says that 
his father really believes that it is important for a man to step up to 
his responsibilities. When I told him about how I felt after getting 
my driver's license, he really understood what I was talking about. 
He said that his father took him hunting years ago. While sitting in 
his tree stand, he said that he realized that he was holding a 
weapon that could kill people as easily as deer. The weight of the 
responsibility of holding that gun had come crashing down on him. 
I understood what he meant," Harry said.

Smiling, Greg said, "I guess that inviting him out to hunt with me 
won't work to intimidate him should he get interested in Cathy. 
He'll accept the offer and I'll end up trudging through the woods 
wondering how I ended up out there."

Harry laughed at the image of his father tramping around the 
woods. It took a moment for the image to clear itself out. He said, 
"You don't have to worry about that. Cathy is pretty stuck on 
Sam."

"I haven't had too much of a chance to talk to Sam. What do you 
know about him?"

That was a question that Harry didn't want to answer. He looked 
around the den taking in the bookcases, the entertainment center, 
and the desk. In a way, the room reflected the character of his 
father. Conservative in a way and modern in another way while 
remaining comfortable. After a few seconds of silence, Harry said, 
"I'm worried about Cathy."

Greg sat up and asked, "Why do you say that?"

Liking his lips, Harry hoped that he wasn't betraying his sister. He 
said, "She's a little over her head with him. You know that she's 
been fighting with mom about her relationship with Sam."

"Your mother did mention that a time or two," Greg said 
understating the issue a bit. It seemed to him about the time life 
quieted on one front, another battle started somewhere else. He 
wished that he knew how to connect with Cathy, but he just didn't 
understand her.

"Well, I'm afraid that she's going to do something she regrets," 
Harry said. He felt a large spear of guilt thrust itself in his stomach. 
He just hoped that he wasn't making a mistake by telling his father 
that.

Greg looked over at Harry tempted to grill him concerning what he 
meant by doing something she would regret, but resisted the 
temptation. Months ago, he would have grilled the poor boy over a 
fire to get what he needed to know. He could see that the trust his 
son was showing him was very fragile. Sitting back in his chair, he 
said, "Thank you for telling me."

Taking a breath, Harry waited for the questions to start. When his 
father just sat in his chair lost in thought, he relaxed a little and 
said, "I just thought you might want to know."

"Thanks," Greg said still thinking about his little girl. He shivered 
at the thought that the mistake she was about to make was to end 
being a little girl by becoming a woman. He thought about it. She 
was young, just too young to begin doing that. He didn't notice 
when Harry slipped out of the den.

---

Alone in his room, Ted was getting dressed for the barbecue. He 
was depressed by what he had observed of his mother. When he 
and his father had come in from the garage, she was sitting at the 
table doing nothing. He never would have imagined his normally 
neat and prim mother acting with such disinterest in what was 
going on around her.

He sat down on his bed to put on his socks. He had just about 
given up on his mother and that hurt more than he could put into 
words. It didn't seem right that she would just sit there doing 
nothing to save her marriage. She wasn't the woman he knew. 

His father was more positive about what was happening than he 
was. He described the situation as fermenting and that she would 
wake up one day filled with anger. Right now, she was wallowing 
in self-pity. Ted didn't understand why his father wanted his 
mother angry. It didn't make sense to him, but for the moment he 
trusted his father more than his mother and accepted that his father 
understood the situation better than he did.

Looking down at the sock in his hand, he wondered why he was 
dressing in street clothes. They were supposed to attend a barbecue 
and swim in the pool. He tossed the socks on the bed and started to 
take off his pants to change into clothes that made more sense. 
He'd wear his shirt, swim trunks, and sandals. 

It took him a few minutes to change his clothes. Once dressed, he 
left the room and headed to the living room to wait for his mother 
and father. He hoped that Harry knew what he was talking about 
and that something positive would emerge from this evening. 
There wasn't much hope.

On his way to the living room, he glanced in the kitchen. The sight 
tore at his heart. His mother was still seated at the table and 
wearing her nightgown and robe. She hadn't even started to get 
dressed to go. He stopped and said, "Mom! Get dressed. We're 
supposed to leave in ten minutes."

"I don't want to go," she answered listlessly. 

Seeing that she made no effort to move, he got angry. Shouting, he 
said, "If you loved me, you'd do this one little thing for me!"

She rose and shrugged her shoulders. In a monotone, she said, 
"Okay. I'll go."

He watched her trudge out of the kitchen. Moving over to the table, 
he sat down in a chair. The tears came and he broke down sobbing. 
The situation was hopeless and he knew it. His father didn't stand 
a chance of saving the marriage.

---

Sam stood in front of the mirror looking at his reflection. The 
image looking back at him was nothing special. Not for the first 
time he wondered what Cathy saw in him. While others might 
want to build up their ego by claiming greater popularity than 
supported by reality, Sam was honest with himself. He was an 
average looking guy who was socially in the geek camp. 

He felt that Cathy was one of the most popular girls at school. She 
was clearly one of the prettiest girls. One day she would wake up 
and see how much below her social position he was. She'd drop 
him like a hot potato that day. The question was how long it would 
take her to realize it. That would be the day she ripped his heart out 
of his chest.

Everything was wrong about this relationship. Even economically 
they were from different circles. His father ran a small tile 
company. He didn't sell tile; he and his crew installed it under 
contract with stores that did sell the tile. It wasn't that he was 
embarrassed by his father's job, but that Cathy's family was rich. 
He had no idea what her father did, but even her mother had an 
office job. His mother worked as a school crossing guard for 
minimum wage.

He wasn't looking forward to this barbecue. This would be the first 
time that he would spend with her family socially. Her father 
scared him. Even worse, her father made his father nervous. It was 
time to go and he left the bedroom he shared with his little brother.

His sister, Martha, watched him enter the living room. Seeing how 
he was dressed, she said, "You're going to meet your girly friend."

"You bet, Marty," Sam said.

"I bet you're going to get all mushy and everything."

"I'm gonna kiss her all night," Sam said with a smile.

His little brother, Ricky, said, "Ew, that's gross."

Sam laughed and rubbed his little brother on the head. He said, 
"You'll be talking different in a few years, Runt."

"Don't call me that!"

Sam's father got up from his chair. In a stern voice, he said, "Let's 
go, Sam."

Looking over at his father, Sam didn't like the expression on his 
face and wondered what he had done wrong. He knew that calling 
his little sister, Marty, and his little brother, Runt, didn't put the 
frown there. That was just normal banter around the house. 
Straightening up, he said, "Sure."

He followed his father out to the car. Once inside, his father turned 
to him and said, "Don't kiss and tell, boy. Never kiss and tell."

"I didn't do that," Sam said confused by the accusation.

"You don't even joke about it," his father said looking at him with 
a very serious expression. 

"Yes, dad," Sam said. He looked at his father for a second and 
asked, "Why are you so upset?"

"Listen, son. I know that you are still kind of young, but it is time 
you start learning how things work. This is a tough world. Cathy's 
father is an important man. Now, I don't know what he does, but 
you don't live in a house that big without having friends in high 
places. If you piss him off, he could call some of his friends and 
I'd be out of business faster than you could say your own name," 
his father answered. 

"Yes, dad," Sam answered. His father's comments underscored his 
belief that Cathy was way out of his league. The chances of having 
a future with her looked pretty bad.

Still frowning, his father started the car and pulled out of the 
driveway. He wasn't happy with his son dating such a rich girl. He 
had a sick feeling in his stomach that things were going to turn out 
bad. The feeling only got worse when he saw that Greg Anders 
was waiting for them by the driveway. Driving off without talking 
to the man would be rude. He parked the car and got out. Stepping 
over to Greg, he extended a hand and said, "You must be Greg 
Anders. I'm Scott Hampstead."

"Nice to meet you Scott," Greg said. He looked over at Sam for a 
second. Turning to face Scott, he said, "Why don't you join me for 
a drink?"

"That sounds great," Scott said plastering a smile on his face. He'd 
rather go to the dentist.

"Sam, it's good to see you again. Why don't you join your father 
and me?" Greg said looking over at the kid who was dating his 
little girl. 

"Yes, sir," Sam said looking over at his father for support. His 
father didn't look too pleased.

The pair followed Greg to his study. Entering the room, Sam 
looked around in amazement. He'd never seen such a luxurious 
office. His father looked around and did a quick mental calculation 
about how much it had cost. The figure depressed him. The two 
guests took the offered seats.

Going over to a shelf of one of his bookcases, Greg asked, "Are 
you a scotch or bourbon, man?"

"Bourbon," Scott answered looking at the small collection of 
bottles on the shelf. He noticed the bottle of Jim Beam. 

"On the rocks?"

"That's fine," Scott answered watching the man prepare two 
drinks. 

"We typically let the teenagers have a wine spritzer when they are 
visiting. It is one quarter wine and three quarters soda. Of course, 
we require permission from their parents before doing that," Greg 
said removing the top off the bottle of Jim Beam. As he filled one 
of the glasses with two fingers of the golden liquor, he asked, "Do 
I have your permission to serve that to Sam?"

"Uh, sure," Scott said surprised by the direction of the 
conversation. He watched Greg put the cap back on the bottle.

Picking up the two glasses, Greg carried one over to Scott and 
handed it to him. Sitting down, he raised his glass in the air and 
said, "Cheers."

"Cheers," Scott answered cautiously.

For the next ten minutes, the two men engaged in small talk. They 
covered a number of very simple and non-controversial topics. 
Sam listened bored by the topics, but not wanting to look too bored 
out of fear of Cathy's father. After a short discussion about the 
lack of rain that summer, Greg said, "I understand you have a 
daughter."

"Yes, I do," Scott said.

"I bet you can't wait for the day when some young man comes 
around looking to get her virginity," Greg said looking at the 
father.

A small wave of anger washed over Scott at the thought of a boy 
going after his daughter. Forgetting where he was for a moment, he 
said, "I'll rip his head off."

"I'm glad that you feel that way. I'm sure that you'll understand 
what I have to say to Sam," Greg said leaning forward and looking 
the man in the eye. At the sudden change in topic, Sam wanted to 
disappear in his chair.
<1st attachment end>


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