Week of the Big Four-Oh

She screamed when she saw Ronnie sitting at the table, calmly reading the day's news on his cell phone. She terminated her phone call and jammed the cell phone into her robe's pocket.

"Ronnie! What are you doing here?" Charlotte accused.

"Told you; Dennis hasn't pulled the permits on the savings and loan job, so I've got nothing to do," Ronnie shrugged. "Right now? Grass is too wet to cut, so I'm reading today's news. Know that Burns and Burns is thinking about opening a second store? This one will be right there, in Polanski."

"Could have left me some coffee," Charlotte snapped.

"Get Darlene to make you some," Ronnie said, putting his cup into the sink.

Penny Barnes was an attractive brunette. Ronnie suspected the glasses were there to make her look more intelligent, more serious.

"Hmm," Penny said, looking over their financial records. "Just refinanced the house, three point nine percent."

"Daughter's a junior at BYU," Ronnie said. "And, father in law's got bunch of medical bills; mother in law's medical bills, had minimal coverage, both of them had deductible that were just unreal, funeral costs. Then, Eckles was about to go under; couple of jobs went way over budget because Paul can't seem to remember to carry the one when adding."

"Mm hmm," Penny agreed, continuing to read. "So, Mr. Jackson, when you divorce your employer's daughter, what will that do to your employment?"

"End it, I guess," Ronnie said, a smile creasing his lips.

"But Mrs. Jackson's job at Garland County Public Library should be unaffected," Penny mused.

By Friday, Dennis still had not pulled the permits to begin the remodeling of the Federal Savings & Loans. So, Ronnie was home, finishing up a few repairs on the Jackson home when Charlotte's call came.

"What is, divorce?" Charlotte screamed when Ronnie answered "Eckles renovations and remodeling, Ronnie speaking."

"Oh, okay, you got the papers," Ronnie said. "Now, what's wrong with the downstairs bathroom? You said something needed to be fixed, but damned if I can tell what's wrong down here."

"Lock sticks," Charlotte said. "You and me? We're going have to talk when I get home, hear?"

"No. We've talked. Talking doesn't seem to do any good as long as you want to listen to Darlene and not your husband. So, no, the time to talk is over and gone," Ronnie said. "Yeah, I see what it is, okay, got it. Bye."

"But I don't want a divorce," Charlotte whined.

"And I don't want to be married to a brainless slut," Ronnie said. "Anything else? No? Bye."

Ronnie ignored Charlotte's next call. When John's phone number popped up, Ronnie put his screwdriver down and picked up the phone.

"Eckles renovations and remodeling, Ronnie speaking," Ronnie said.

John barked, grunted and warbled. Ronnie did marvel at how many profanities he was able to understand as his father in law demanded to know what was going on between Ronnie and Charlotte.

"Really quite easy, sir," Ronnie said. "Darlene and her husband seem to have an open marriage, and they've convinced Charlotte that she should have an open marriage too. You know, where they can run around fucking whoever they feel like fucking, and somehow still stay married. Well, I told Charlotte I have no desire to have an open marriage."

John grunted, squeaked and slurred his way through another outburst. Ronnie shook his head, as if John could see the gesture.

"Well, other night, your daughter said I could either go along with it, or get a divorce. So, I am getting a divorce," Ronnie said.

John again tried to argue with Ronnie. The man even resorted to emotional blackmail.

"Well, sir, I appreciate that, I really do," Ronnie lied. "But you have three sons, oh, and a daughter. You really should leave the business to them, sir, and not to me."

"Plus that, why the hell would I want a company that's been in the red for the last three years?" Ronnie said to himself.

Charlotte brought reinforcements with her when she came home. Ronnie had anticipated this and sat quietly while Darlene and Gary presented their side of the argument.

"So, you see, Ronnie, since I'm not threatened by other men," Gary said, smug expression on his face. "Darlene is free to have friendships outside of the marriage. Hey, I mean, as long as I know she's coming home to me, you know?"

"And of course, I share all my experiences with him," Darlene said. "There are no secrets between us. This has really opened our hearts, our lives up to one another."

"Oh, well, that certainly clears everything up," Ronnie said and Charlotte and Darlene and Gary all smiled.

"No," Ronnie said and got up from the couch. "But hey, Charlotte? After we're divorced? You can open your heart and your life and your twat to whomever you want to, even the shit for brains Cowboys fan there."

"Oh! Well, I see!" Gary sneered. "So, just because you feel inadequate, Charlotte has to shut the door on her own opportunities, hmm?"

Ronnie flashed a smile, one that showed all of his teeth. He walked to the door of the living room and turned toward the stairs.

"If you need to think that, so you can feel better about yourself, by all means, keep thinking that," Ronnie said and left the room.

Again, that night, Charlotte tried to initiate sex. She made a show of shrugging out of her industrial strength bra and shoving her plain cotton briefs down. After flashing her hairy pussy and sagging tits at Ronnie, Charlotte waddled to her side of the bed and wiggled into the bed.

"But why aren't you wearing those panties in your suitcase?" Ronnie asked.

"I uh, what?" Charlotte stammered, surprised that he knew about the new lingerie she'd bought for the trip.

"Go to bed, Charlotte. Tomorrow's a busy day for you, isn't it?" Ronnie sneered.

As usual, Ronnie woke at five thirty and got out of bed. He no longer bothered to close the door of their bedroom, not caring whether his early rising woke his wife or not.

Downstairs, he made his pot of coffee. And sat, sipping his coffee while reading through the news on his phone. The nationwide news made him snort in disgust.

"Politicians, I swear. They all need to be rounded up, forced to live by their own rules. Lifetime salaries? Oh no, you're going try live off of Social Security. Private health care? Oh no, here, here's the same insurance policy you made America buy into. Good luck with that cancer there, buddy," Ronnie scoffed. "Bet they'd fix that shit in a millisecond."

At eleven that morning, Gary knocked on the door. Ronnie opened the door and Gary tried to enter the home. Ronnie's beefy paw stopped the sneering man's progress.

"Yes?" Ronnie asked.

"Hey, I uh, I'm here pick up Charlotte, drive them to the airport," Gary said, again trying to force his way into the house.

"I'll let her know you're here," Ronnie said and shoved Gary back.

He then closed the door and returned to watching his pre-recorded sit-com. A few moments later, Charlotte came thundering down the stairs, lugging her suitcase.

"Uh? Why didn't you let me know Gary and Darlene are outside waiting for me?" she demanded of Ronnie.

"Hmm? Oh! Oh yeah. Gary and Darlene are here," Ronnie said, returning his attention to his program.

"God, really? Really? You got to be so childish about the whole thing?" Charlotte shrilled.

She put her suitcase down and leaned toward Ronnie. He leaned away from her so she wound up kissing empty space.

"We'll talk about this when I get back," Charlotte said.

"No. We won't. We really won't," Ronnie said.

After his sit-com, after a satisfying meal, Ronnie completed the last of his chores, painting the front door of the home. He picked a pale yellow and the color made a nice contrast to the weathered red brick exterior of the home.

He smirked as Samson let out an irritated yowl from the garage. The animal had food, water, and a clean litter box in the garage; he had nothing to yowl about.

"Soon as the door's dry, buddy, I'll let you out of there," Ronnie promised the beast.

Upstairs again, Ronnie logged on and cancelled their joint credit cards. He had no knowledge of any credit cards his wife had in her name, and had no desire to look. But he wasn't about to finance his wife's adultery, or her cousin's extravagance.

He did log into Charlotte's personal bank account and took out half of the balance. He also went into their joint account, of which he was the sole depositor, and took out half. The bank's web site helped him to open a new account, one in his name only and he deposited the monies he'd taken out of the other accounts into his new account.

Again, the on-line accounts made it easy to remove his name from the utilities and the cable television. He shrugged his shoulders when the Garland County Power & Light company sent him an email informing him that his cancellation order would not take effect until the end of the billing cycle.

"Which is Friday, dumb ass," Ronnie told the computer screen.

"Sloane's Pizza," Ronnie said when his stomach grumbled. "Of course, since Charlotte hasn't let me eat there in, shit, I don't know when, I'll probably drop dead from a heart attack right there, hmm?"

Ronnie had a small five topping pizza and a mug of draft beer. He did flirt with the waitress, even though the girl was nearly seventy five pounds overweight. The young woman smiled and tapped his wedding band with her three inch long fingernail.

Ronnie looked at the ring and his good mood evaporated. He thanked the obese girl and left her a five dollar tip.

In his truck, Ronnie wiggled and jerked on the band, and sighed when it finally did pop off. He dropped the simple band into the cup holder on the console and looked at his hand.

"'I'll love you forever' huh Charlotte?" Ronnie said aloud. "Well, I guess forever ended this morning."

His truck gave a soft chime and Ronnie saw that his gas gauge was nearing empty. He pulled into the gas station and stuck the nozzle into the tank.

He was about to push for ten dollars' worth, then decided to fill the tank up. He pushed the correct buttons and waited.

"Damn, twenty two gallons takes a while, hmm?" Ronnie asked the pump as it gurgled and gurgled.

He went into the attached convenience store and found the Budweiser beer. Passing by another row of coolers, Ronnie saw the ice cream containers. He grabbed a pint of Strawberry ice cream and carried both to the counter.

Shelley no longer worked at the gas station. She'd married, breaking Ronnie's heart, and the heart of quite a few other men that stopped in this particular gas station only because of the blonde beauty that stood behind the counter. But Shannon Carlisle, the short brunette that worked there now was almost as pretty as Shelley.

Ronnie smiled when Shannon hopped up onto the milk crate she'd put behind the cash register. He'd asked her once how short she was and Shannon had stared at him, hard.

"I am four feet, eight inches TALL," the nineteen year old girl had snapped. "Why? How SHORT are you?"

"Mm, 'bout seven inches," Ronnie had quipped.

Her brown eyes had opened wide. Then the girl had laughed, a deep belly laugh that made her pretty face light up. And ever since that day, Shannon called Ronnie 'Shorty.'

"Hmm, wife's out of town, Shorty?" Shannon deduced, looking at the purchase.

"Wife's out. Period," Ronnie said.

Shannon's deep brown eyes flickered to Ronnie's left hand. Her eyes flickered up and met Ronnie's eyes. She studied his face for a few moments.

"So, Shorty, where you taking me on our first date?" she brazenly asked, combing her thick brown hair back with her hand.

"Shannon, as pretty as you are, what on God's earth would you want with an old fart like me?" Ronnie asked.

"Mm, 'bout seven inches," Shannon said and slipped Ronnie's purchases into a plastic bag.

Charlotte's fortieth birthday was on Tuesday. On Wednesday, Tracy, Ronnie and Charlotte's daughter called Ronnie's cell phone.

"Eckles renovations and remodeling, Ronnie speaking," Ronnie answered.

"Dad, Mom's birthday was yesterday," Tracy said.

"Mm hmm, and?" Ronnie asked, scratching his three day growth of beard.

"Why didn't you call her?" Tracy shrilled.

"Didn't feel like it," Ronnie said.

"Didn't... Daddy, why not?" Tracy sputtered.

"Uh, I guess you're going find out soon enough," Ronnie said. "But your mother has decided, since she's forty now, she should go out and have sex with other men."

"And?" Tracy asked.

"And? Jesus Christ, what are they teaching you at that school?" Ronnie said. "And she's married. And married women don't have sex with men they're not married to."

"Oh my God, that is so old school," Tracy sneered.

"Good bye Tracy," Ronnie said, ending the call.

Ten minutes later, his cell phone rang again. Even though he could see that it was Charlotte's cell phone, Ronnie answered the call.

"Eckles renovations and remodeling, Ronnie speaking," he said automatically.

"Hello, Ronnie," Charlotte said, voice hard.

"Oh! Hi! How's being a forty year old whore working out for you?" Ronnie asked.

"Not funny, Ronnie," Charlotte snapped.

"No, I don't think its funny either," Ronnie agreed.

"Oh, and thank you so much for cancelling the credit cards," Charlotte continued.

"You are so welcome," Ronnie said. "Anything else?"

"My birthday was yesterday, Ronnie," Charlotte said. "Why didn't you call?"

"Didn't feel like it. But, hey, maybe whoever you're fucking might want to tell you happy birthday, hmm?" Ronnie said.

"Oh Jesus, grow up, Ronnie," Charlotte snapped.

"I have, Charlotte. And grownups? They honor their commitments. They respect their vows," Ronnie said. "Now, Melissa Kahlick?"

"Who?" Charlotte asked.

"Melissa Kahlick. She used to be Melissa Strombe; you remember her, pretty little blonde went to school with Tracy? She married that Lucy Kahlick, manager down at the bank? Anyway, she works for Gold Standard Real Estate now. And got this cute little red head, good God, that Antoinette's as pretty as a pin, I tell you, but anyway, the good news is she thinks she can get us a buyer for this house real quick," Ronnie said.

"Buy... Ronnie, we're not selling the house!" Charlotte screamed into the phone.

"Oh? You really think you can afford to buy me out? Remember, we've got that second mortgage to pay off and that's what Melissa was telling me. She can get us a buyer, but we'll probably have to bring cash to the table, need to pay off that note," Ronnie said.

"We're not selling the house," Charlotte screamed again.

"And I put all your furniture into that E Z Storage on Independence Road, right by the Chevrolet place," Ronnie continued. "Unit number two twelve; your dad's got the key."

"Oh my God, Darlene, I need to get home," Ronnie heard Charlotte moan.

"But your Dad couldn't take Samson so I brought him over to Dennis's," Ronnie continued.

"Dennis! Ronnie, oh my God, Dennis's got those Dobermans!" Charlotte screamed, horrified.

"Hmm? Oh shit, that's right," Ronnie chuckled. "No wonder he said he'd be happy to take that cat. Oh well."

Ronnie hung up on his wife's screams and pleas. Leaving the phone on the kitchen counter, he went upstairs and logged onto the Internet. He heard his cell phone ringing but ignored it.

"And... Maybe your Mom's new boyfriend can pay for that last year of school, young lady," Ronnie muttered. "Oh! Hey, or why don't you see if BYU has a scholarship for students that maintain a two point one GPA?"

"Because, after all, it's 'Old School' for you to expect your parents to pay for your way in life," Ronnie snapped, disconnecting the computer.

Ronnie entered his bathroom and lathered up his face. Scraping three days' worth of hair was hard, sometimes painful work, but he managed to do so without nicking himself.

He took a hot shower, dried himself off, and put on his last pair of jeans, his last tee shirt.

The computer was placed inside the cab of the pickup truck, behind the passenger seat. His last act was to drop his cell phone into the garbage can. Ronnie then wheeled the garbage can down to the curb.

"Going miss you," Herman Voggert, the neighbor across the street said, meeting Ronnie at the curb.

"Voggert, like hell you will," Ronnie laughed, shaking the man's hand. "The only time we said more than two words to each other was when you were bitching about Tracy's boyfriends playing their music too loud."

"And know how hard it is get neighbors leave you the hell alone?" Herman said. "You were the perfect neighbor. Never borrowed my shit, never expected me feed your cat, never asked me take your mail or newspapers when you went on vacations. Bet the next bunch is going be over at my place all the time."

"Would serve you right for being so warm and friendly," Ronnie said.

"Uh, garbage can's ringing," Herman said, nodding with his head toward the garbage can.

"Uh, mind your own business," Ronnie smiled and the two men shook hands again.

*.*

Charlotte tried her key in the front door and found out the key did not work. She took her phone out of her purse and attempted to call the Gold Standard Real Estate phone number on the sign. She stared in disbelief; her phone was fully charged, but apparently, there was something wrong with her phone.

Darlene let Charlotte use her cell phone while Gary walked around the house, trying windows and doors. Charlotte muttered obscenities under her breath as the phone rang.

"Gold Standard Real Estate, this is Melissa Kahlick," Melissa said cheerfully.

"Uh, yes, this is Charlotte Jackson," Charlotte snapped. "I'm in front of my house and my key doesn't work."

"Jackson, Jack, oh! Ronald Jackson's ex-wife?" Melissa said brightly.

"Wife, WIFE," Charlotte snapped.

"Oh I am so glad to hear from you; I need you to sign a couple of forms," Melissa said cheerfully. "Oh, and you won't believe it, but I've got this couple? They are really interested in your house."

"The house is not for sale," Charlotte screamed into the phone.

"Oh. So you're going buy Mr. Jackson out?" Melissa asked. "I know the Richmans will be so disappointed to hear that. Oh well, they also liked the Percell's place."

Gary came back and reported that the house was sealed up tight. Charlotte again told Melissa that the house was not for sale. She then tried Ronnie's cell phone.

(In a landfill in unincorporated Cutler's Field, Utah, a rat scurried away when something sounded out a pleasant chime. The animal went in search of food a few feet away from the noisy pile of refuse.)

"You son of a bitch," Charlotte snarled when Ronnie's voice announced that she'd reached Eckles Renovations & Remodeling.

"Come on; there somewhere we can drop you off?" Gary asked, already bored with this drama.

"My cat," Charlotte remembered as she wedged herself into the car again.

"Uh huh?" Dennis answered.

"Dennis, it's me. Ronnie said he dropped Samson off with you?" Charlotte said.

"What? You crazy? With Popeye, Olive Oyl and Bluto here? They'd tear that useless cat to pieces," Dennis snapped angrily. "No, no, he's at Dad's. And you need to get him; Dad's physical therapist is allergic to cats."

"Oh, thank God," Charlotte sighed.

"And, uh, thanks so much," Dennis continued. "With Ronnie gone? We're just about out of business now. I pulled the permits on Federal savings and loan, but then had to turn around and let Fremonte take it because none of us know how to do ceramic tile."

"Uh huh," Charlotte said and terminated the call

"Hey, how many people you going call?" Darlene snapped as Charlotte began to punch in her father's phone number.

"What? It's unlimited, huh?" Charlotte asked.

"Uh, oh no it's not," Darlene said. "Mr. Genius over there's got us on the one thousand minutes a month and I know he used them all up on his fantasy football bull shit."