Gotta Go Part 1

    I'm not sure how I got myself into this mess.  Two fucked up kids, who take every opportunity to remind me I'm not their mother.  I tried talking with Doug about it last night, but he saying I have to make  his children respect me.  But every time I try to discipline them, he jumps in and tells me that I'm blowing everything out of proportion.  It's been ten years.  This shit has gotta stop.  If my mother didn't have Alzheimer’s and understood what was going on, she'd kill me. 
    Doug was so charming and loving when we first met.  Taking me to dinner two or three times a week.  Complimenting me and making me feel special at all times.  I have always been self conscious about the size of my breast.  He made me feel they were my best physical attribute.  He bought me jewelry, designer clothes and help me pay a lot of my bills.  The cost of Mamma's medications were killing me.  Her little social security check barely payed for her food and diapers.  I was struggling and all the help he offered was so needed. 
    He had just gotten his 5 million dollar settlement from the death of his wife.  She had been struck by a truck when she and Doug pulled off the road to fix a  flat tire.  She was killed instantly.  Their twin boys, Million and Billion were only 6 months old when she died. 
    I met Doug when the boys were 4 years old.  They instantly took to me.  They were such sweet boys when they were small.  That all changed after we got married.  Suddenly, everything I said to them was to harsh or didn’t make sense.  I really love those boys, but I’m tired of being disrespected at every turn.
    Even our loving making is routine.  When we first met I would get moist just thinking about Doug touching me.  He would rub me down with oil before we made love.  He wouldn’t stop until he was sure I had been pleased thoroughly.  He's the  first man I've been with that enjoyed eating pussy even if he didn't get a blow job in return.  Now I can count the strokes until he bust a nut. 
    I’m sure he has another woman.  I'm kind of glad.  Less work I have to do.  Most nights he comes home and just goes to sleep.  I love sex, good sex.  In our marriage, good sex is a thing of the past.  To meet that need, I  look forward to my private time with BOB, my battery operated boyfriend.
    It would be easier if we slept in separated beds, but no such luck.  At least once a week he wakes me in the middle of the night with a poke.  I think he feels he owes me some dick from time to time, even if he's the only one having fun. 
    Whenever I try to initiate any intimacy, he pushes me away.  When I asked him why, he says he does't like an aggressive woman.
    I could take the time to hire a private investigator to find out what I already know and start over again as a single woman.  It's just that I've heard the horror stories from women that I know and work with.  I just can’t do it at 36.  Plus my clock is ticking.  I want to be a mother before I'm 40. 
    We've been trying for 3 years and nothing.  Not even a miscarriage.  My period is so regular you can set your watch by it.  All the doctors and the test say there is nothing wrong with me.  I can't even get Doug to go to the doctor with me.  "If God wants us to have a baby, it'll happen," he always says.  I say God helps those who help themselves.  I have ovulation thermometers and everything trying to figure out when is the best time to conceive.  I've stopped telling Doug though.  He won't even touch me if I mention a baby or pregnancy.

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    As usual I'm late for work.  If I worked for anyone other than Callista Martin, I'd be totally screwed.  She's my best friend so she trys to be understanding.  I just hope she hasn't made it in yet.  There's only so much understanding you can ask of anyone, including a good friend. 
    She knows how hard it is for me to get the kids to go to school.  Even if I drop them off at the front door, there's no guarantee they won't go out the side door after I drive away from the school.  She's said on many occasions that she would have left Doug a long time ago.  That's easy for her to say, she's has the perfect home and family.
    When I finally reach my office I just want to scream.  There are files and papers covering every inch of my desk.  I am so behind I feel like firing myself. 
    When Callista approach me about her idea to open a dating service, I thought she was nuts.  We use a psycho-social approach to matching our clients.  We have a 65% success rate.  Most of the men want a date with Callista as soon as they lay eyes on her.  She's truly blessed.  She is beautiful, happily married, and a successful business woman.  I would have never had enough nerve to try and start a business by myself.
    "Good morning, Max," Callista says from the doorway of my office.
    "Hey, good morning."  I can't believe she looks so beautiful at 9:30 in the morning.  Her make-up is perfectly applied, she's wearing a designer suit with matching accessories and shoes.  I've tried to mimic the way that she dress, but a size 12 suit doesn’t look as good on as a size 4.  How can she still wear a size 4 after two children.  I still haven't been able to loose the weight I gained from the fertility pills. 
    "We've got 12 new clients coming in this week.  Are you ready?" Callista asked.
    "Everything’s ready," I lied.
    Callista's cell phone rang.  She looked down at the display and looked up at me nervously.
    "Excuse me, I need to take this."  Callista walked away so fast she almost ran.  Wonder who's calling her this early in the morning?

        Today was unbearable.  I interviewed three men and a woman who say they are looking for their soul mate.  Our approach ask questions about their daily lives and daily choices.  People often say they want a very neat person when in fact they are not neat themselves.  For example, stacks of books and boxes neatly placed around the wall is not a neat freak, rather a horder.  Matching them up with a person who is neat and doesn’t like a lot of clutter would be a disaster.  As sad as my marriage is, I’d rather stay in the bed I made than try to find another one to sleep in. 
    I get into my car and sat behind the wheel trying to collect my thoughts.  I am looking forward to the scenic view of the trees and beautiful homes.  It  makes the 45 minute drive home worth it.  I know Doug hasn’t started dinner even though he took today off. 
    As soon as I step in the house I am assaulted by the loudness of the television. 
    “Million and Billion, turn that damn TV down.”  I yell at the top of my lungs.  There is no response.  I walk toward the family room and I’m shocked to see a room full of naked people on the big screen TV.  My husband is lying on the couch with his pants unzipped and he is  jacking off.
    “Doug, what are you doing?”
    “What does it look like I’m doing.”
    “The boys could walk in here and caught you like this.”
    “So their boys, they know the score.  If you were handling your business I wouldn’t have to jack off to porno. “  He sits up and faces me.  “See, your to up tight to try anything new.  You like your sex routine.”
    “What are you talking about, Doug.  I’m the one buying gels and lotions for us to try.  Sexy nightgowns and crotch less panties.  You’re the one who’s never interested.”
    “That’s what I’m talking about.  That’s not mew.  Anyone can do that.  I’m talking about some new freaky shit.  Shit we can reminisce about when were old and gray and I can’t get it up no more.  Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to do some forbidden stuff?”  Doug says with his hands stretch out toward me. 
    I step away before his hands can reach me.  Am I suppose to be impressed by this?  Is he trying so say our fucked up sex life is my fault?
    “So I’m the boring one now.  What’s gotten into you.  When I try to get close to you, you turn your back on me.”
    “I’m just saying I’d like to try something new.”
    “Like…”
    “Haven’t you every wanted to see what it feels like to be with another woman?  Like your girl Callista,  you can’t tell me you and she have never tried anything.”
    “I shouldn’t have to tell you.  You should know me well enough to know that’s not my style.  And how is that something new for us?  This sounds like it’s all about you.  That is not going to do a damn thing for me.  We need to work on our marriage and our sex life.  Not add other people to it.”
    “Forget it.  I knew your fridget ass wouldn’t be open to something new.  Should have left your fat ass where I found you.”  He steps back and zips his pants.  “That’s why men cheat on their wives.  All you bitches get married and think you’ve got it made, but you’re to stupid to know who or what pleases your man.  It’s cool thought, there are plenty of women who are more than happy to have a man like me.”
    “What are you saying?  Because I don’t want to have sex with a woman your going to cheat on me.”
    “I said what I meant, and meant what I said.  This isn’t about you being with a women, it’s about adding some spice to our dead ass marriage.  You need to get with the program.”  Doug walks out of the family room and stops at the back door to put on his Gucci loafers.  “If you really loved me like you say, you would at least thing about it.  It doesn’t have to be a women.  I wouldn’t mind seeing you with another man.  It might loosen your tight ass up.”
    After Doug left and the shock of what he said wore off.  I found my self on the floor of our bed room in tears.  I must have been crying for more than an hour before I realized that Million was knocking on our bedroom door. 
    “What is it.“ I yelled.
    “I’m hungry, what’s for dinner.?"
    At that moment I realized this was my fault.  For years I had allowed myself to be the glorified baby sitter.  People treat you the way you allow them to treat you.  What came out of my mouth nexxt surprised even me. 
    “What ever the hell you cook.“  I stood up and walked over to  the mirror.  I didn’t like what I say.  I had allowed my self to gain weight, I barely put on any make-up anymore and I can’t remember the last time I had gone shopping for myself.  The suit I had on was at least 2 years old.  I had to get out of this house before I went in sane.  I snatched the door to our bedroom open and pushed past Million.
    “What’s wrong with you Max.  I just want something to eat.  I didn’t even do nothing.” he whined.
    “Call your father, he’s the only one you and your brother will mine.  Let him worry about what your big overgrown behind is going to eat.  Your 16 years old.  I’ve tried to teach you and your brother how to cook, but your father says that’s women’s work.  Well tonight and from now on it’s going to be your father’s work, cause I’m out of here.”