I was a college freshman going to a school about 200 miles from home in the North western part of Michigan. The college did not allow freshman to have a car on campus, so anytime that I wanted to go home for the weekend I either had to find a ride home with another student or hitchhike. This spring weekend in particular I decided at the last minute to hitch hike to my home located in rural southeast Michigan.
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I was feeling good because I had gotten off early from work. I was the assistant manager of a shoe store in a mall and I worked a very irregular schedule. I had worked four hours today, and at one o'clock I was off for the day. I was driving home, and on the seat beside me was a small paper bag with a gift in it for my wife, Linda. Light blue nylon stockings. They were really a present for both of us because I liked stockings and my wife liked wearing them for me. A perfect match.
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Day 1 Saturday
"Oh my...God...Sis, is this really happening?" I gasped as the ship slowly chugged out of Southampton harbour on its way to the Mediterranean.
"I know what you mean," My younger sister Sam grinned as I hugged me; "this is going to be the best holiday of our lives!"
Sam had won an 'All-inclusive Cruise for two' plus £500 spending money, in a magazine competition.
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I walked up the sidewalk in the rain towards the lighted porch. The weather matched my mood. I had come home from my office on campus and found a note. "Sorry, I don't think this is going to work our. I've gone back to Tennessee. Karen." I guessed that she had gone back to stay with her aunt.
She had left me and I was stunned and angry and depressed and sad-and somehow lighter and freer. But I needed to talk to somebody and that's why I was walking up to Greg and Rosemary's door.
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Most secretaries would be fired for wearing a low-cut blouse like hers. Most secretaries wouldn't get away with a tight pencil-skirt and the almost-visible suspenders around her thighs either. Most secretaries, however, aren't married to their bosses – and today is their anniversary.
There are flowers on Lana's desk when she comes in, high heels clicking on the oak floor. That gets a smile from her, which isn't always easy this early in the morning; it's still dark outside.
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I chose a table in the food court of the Mall and sat down to eat my salad during an unsuccessful hour of shopping for some new outfits. I ate absent-mindedly and people-watched as I picked through the salad greens and sliced tomatoes on my plate.
The food court began to fill as if everyone suddenly came over all hungry and I was soon surrounded by noisy teens, tired seniors simply wanting to get off their feet, and some families with restless kids.
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I am an eighteen year-old, just. My parents are divorced and I live with my dad. We get along well, going to football games together etc. but every now and then his work will mean he's away for a few days, which causes him to feel guilty.
"Are you sure you'll be alright Jack?" he'd said looking very concerned.
"I'll be fine dad", I assured him.
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For twelve years I was married to that fucking bitch. Why did I do it you ask? Well simple; she was hot and claimed to be pregnant with my baby. Little did I know she was lying and "conveniently" had a period a few days after the ceremony. I stayed with her for twelve semi-happy years, and then it all fell apart.
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It was Friday afternoon and I had returned to the hotel suite after finishing with my best friends dress rehearsal for her wedding which was Saturday evening at 6 pm. I had about 4 hours to kill before my husband and I needed to be at the rehearsal dinner. Steve, my husband, was out playing golf with my dad and my brother and wouldn't be back for another at least two, maybe three hours.
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When Jack and Lisa, friends from my college days, asked me to be the photographer for their wedding I was more than happy to oblige. I had been doing wedding photography on the side for about five years and was getting more and more comfortable with my results. Little did I know that this assignment would be quite different from all the rest.
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