I said I would try to make the divorce as amicable as possible, to minimize the negative impact on our children. I would petition that we split all our assets 50-50, that I pay enough alimony to her to make our net incomes equal, and that we get joint custody of our children, with them spending an equal amount of time with each of us. In this way there would be no child support in either direction.
I believed my chance of getting joint custody and equal access was very good, given her threat to turn our children against me.
About 8:00 AM in the morning (Sunday) I sent off a copy of the message to our relatives and to nearly everyone in our home computer contact list, my phone contact list, and her phone contact list. I also sent a copy to the gossip editor of the local paper and several of the local radio and TV stations. These copies to the media did not include my wife’s name, and they included a request that she be identified only as an employee of the Art Gallery. I sent a copy of the message to Traci as well, and in that message I told her I had sent the messages to our relatives, friends and co-workers.
I then locked up my house, unplugged the house phone, turned off my cell phone and Traci’s cell phone, set up a video recorder that could record anything happening in the foyer at the front of my house, leaned a baseball bat against a wall in the foyer, and lay down to catch a nap.
At 9:00 AM Sunday morning the other three couples were in the middle of breakfast at Jackson’s place when Traci’s boss, Lou, got a call from Dr. Henry Maynard, the chairman of the board of the Art Gallery. He told Lou he had just gotten a call from the gossip editor at the local newspaper asking him to comment on an email he had received from a Mr. Robert Sprague about Jackson Aloysius Fairchild having sex all night Saturday with Sprague’s wife, a female employee of the Art Gallery. Maynard was blindsided, and he told the caller that he would look into it and call back later with a comment.
Maynard had met Bobby at a couple of Christmas parties and thought pretty highly of him. Maynard’s question for Lou was “Did this really happen, and how?” Lou told him that they were at a weekend party at Jackson’s place, and Jackson spent all day Saturday seducing Traci, then walked her to his bedroom in the evening, right in front of her husband’s eyes. Within a few minutes the three couples at the party could hear the two of them having sex. All Maynard could say was “Shit, this is a fucking disaster [pardon the pun]. This could destroy the Art Gallery. Many of our benefactors are very socially conservative, and they will likely cut off their donations when they hear of this. Many of our best employees are women, and their husbands may well make them quit to keep them away from Jackson. God dammit, why didn’t you stop it?”
Lou said “You know how intimidating Jackson is. How could I stop it?”
“You could have reminded both of them of the morals clause that Traci signed when she was hired, and that Jackson signed when he was appointed to the Board.”
“Hell, Henry, Jackson has done this a number of times before, and there has never been a problem.”
“What!! He’s done it before? Who knows about this?”
“Probably nearly everyone on the Art Gallery staff. He bragged about it. It’s pretty common knowledge.”
“Jesus H. Christ! Nobody ever tells me anything. How did I hire such a bunch of stupid goddam idiots? Look, we need some serious damage control here. Tracy is fired, for disobeying the morals clause. You are fired, for not enforcing it. Jackson is off the Board and is banned from the Gallery for life, for being a sexual predator. There will be a company-wide seminar on the morals clause this week. I’ll tell the reporter that I unfortunately confirmed the email message with six eyewitnesses. Then I’ll start calling our benefactors” After that tirade Maynard slammed down the phone.
As soon as the call was over, the couples could hear Traci and Jackson going at it for a morning fuck.
They decided it was best to just wait until the two of them came out to the dining room.
When Jackson and Traci came out around 10:00 AM, looking very happy and well-fucked, Traci asked where Bobby was, and Lou said “He went home last night, right after you two went to Jackson’s room. He couldn’t stand to listen.”
Jackson immediately said “Fuck, I wanted to humiliate the cuckold some more this morning.” Traci looked uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything.
Lou said “Look, forget that, we have a serious problem here.” Then he recounted the phone call with Dr. Maynard, and he described the text message from Bobby the couples had all received, and had all looked at by then.
Jackson immediately erupted: “That BASTARD! That little shit is trying to fucking disgrace me! I’ll destroy his sorry ass! I’ve taken his wife from him, and now I’ll take every damn thing else that little shithead owns! I can’t fucking believe that bastard’s nerve. Doesn’t he know how powerful I am in this town?”
Traci just looked stricken, and dashed to the bedroom to pick up her things and head home to try to make things right with Bobby. However, as soon as she poked her head out the front door, she realized Bobby had taken the car. She came back inside and asked if someone would give her a ride home. Jackson said “Sure, I’ll take you home. I want to have some words with the little shithead anyway.”
A little before noon I was woken up by a ringing doorbell and banging on my front door. I got up, peeked out the peephole in the door, and saw Traci and an enraged Jackson standing there. I turned on the video recorder, came back to the door, and said “Traci, send Jackson away, and I will let you in.” Jackson shouted back “I’m not going anywhere, you fucking miserable little shithead. Open this door, or I’ll break it down and beat the fucking bejesus out of you.”
I immediately called 911, and after explaining that a madman was threatening to break down my door and beat me up, I went back to the door, leaving the 911 call open, and shouted “Jackson, you can’t come in, and I have a video camera running in here. Please leave.” (This warning made the recording admissible evidence in any future legal proceedings.)
Jackson promptly responded “You bastard, Fuck you and your fucking video camera. I’m gonna break down this fucking door, pound you into smithereens, and then pound your fucking camera into smithereens.” At that point he started slamming his shoulder against the door.
I knew the door would not take much of this, so I backed away and hoped the police would appear soon. Before long the wood in the door jamb around the lock began to splinter, and then the door burst open. Traci ran in first and ran over toward me with her arms out, but I held both hands out in front of me to block her and said “Stop right there! I don’t want you to touch me!”
She hesitated, startled and upset, and then Jackson came up behind her, violently shoved her off to the side so she slammed against the foyer wall, and used his extra 4″ in height and extra 40 pounds to shove me against the wall, put his hands around my neck, and start choking me, while screaming “No fucking shithead sullies my reputation; I’m gonna fucking kill you!”