I’m not trying to solve world hunger or solve conflicts in the Middle East. Anyway, I’m trying to do something much more important to me. I tried to figure out why, or more importantly, how, the love in our marriage disappeared. I thought it would be a simple task to figure out the how or why and then reverse it to make everything better again. Well, that’s a phrase my youngest daughter Kim uses when she puts a bandage on my wife when she gets a bruise or a scratch. But to make my relationship with my wife Sue better again, I needed more than a bandage with a little red balloon on it. I’ll do my best, though. I don’t want to join the statistic that one in two married couples divorce, but it seems we’re headed in that direction. Well, not if I can help it.
Look at us, we are the quintessential Ozzie and Harriet couple. I have been married for almost eleven years and have two children. Our family consists of six-year-old Kim, eight-year-old Danny, and a two-year-old golden retriever named Rusty. We lived in a McMansion, what I call an oversized big box house, which Sue owned, and much to my dismay, we had a bigger McMansion to go with it.
Sue works for Spencer & Thomas, a large Atlanta-based accounting firm, and was promoted to junior partner last January. When I’m not watching her closely, she’s very smart and busy at work. Me? I do custom paint work on motorcycles and cars. My work isn’t seasonal like Sue’s, but it’s usually feast or famine. Many weekends I’ll pitch a tent at car or bike shows and find work that way. Most of the time, my new business seems to come from word of mouth. When one of my paint jobs wins a trophy at a show, everyone always wants to know who did it. The winner will point them my way or give them one of my cards. So I process a million custom spray-painted business cards per year, and although they’re not cheap, they’re worth it.
Shortly after Danny was born, we realized that Sue would be the primary breadwinner for our family. Her earning potential is higher and it makes good financial sense for me to stay home with my kids while she pursues her career. Does this hurt my pride or do I feel inferior? Definitely not. At that point, I just wished Sue could make more money.
When our second child, Kim, was born, I took on more responsibilities, especially when tax time rolled around. I became the head cook and bottle washer, not to mention the maid and school mom. When the kids started elementary school, I always made time to drive them and soon I found myself driving several other kids in the neighborhood. I didn’t mind at all. I just changed the opening hours and opened half an hour later, and that was it. In my opinion, marriage is a partnership where both parties play their part and it runs like a well-run clock, or that’s how it should anyway.
Don’t get me wrong, Sue works hard, especially after her promotion. She usually starts work at 7:30 a.m. and rarely comes home before 6:30 p.m. Many times, after seven or eight p.m., I’ll be feeding the kids and getting them ready for bed while she drags her ass out the door. I’ll remind her of dinner with a glass of wine and a kiss and sit next to her while she eats. Then I’ll put the kids to sleep while she relaxes. I don’t see myself as a martyr; that’s what two loving people in a marriage do.
Do we have sex all the time? No chance. Hey, show me a guy who says he’s had enough, and I’ll show you a liar. If a guy does it two or three times a week, he wishes he could do it four times. Someone who does it five times a week will still wonder what it would be like to do it once a day. And a guy who takes it seven times a week? Well, we all know that’s a fantasy and doesn’t happen in the real world, especially for couples with young kids. All I’m saying is be grateful for what you’ve been given and make the most of it when the opportunity comes. Our miserable lives go on like this.
Our relationship has been strained and out of control since the night of Sue’s promotion dinner. It’s been a year since that night and I’m still angry about her behavior with me since that night. I feel like I’m being taken for granted to some extent. It’s like she believed she was superior and being married to an inferior man has now made her almost inferior. If it wasn’t for my two kids, I probably would have said screw it, but I’m not quite there yet. After I got back from the show in Atlanta, I decided to give it another try because I knew something could be saved, that is if we all worked hard.
I started thinking about the moment we first said “I do.” I was twenty-two and she was twenty-three and a half; I always told her she stole the cradle when she married me. After graduating from college, she worked at an accounting firm in town. I, myself, ran my own car and motorcycle painting business. I was working in my parents’ detached garage, or what used to be their garage. I knew from the start that college wasn’t for me, so I took every car painting course the technical college offered. I learned not only standard painting techniques, but also airbrush art. I was living hand to mouth, but I was happy with my life at the time. I love going to car and bike shows because there are always beautiful machines and women who can stop traffic. That’s where I met Sue.
She went with a guy named Kenny, who was showing his car at a regional event. For him, that day, it was all about the car. Sue is there to support him, because isn’t that what a girlfriend should do? Yet when the show is about to begin and he sands and polishes wildly, Sue becomes nothing more than an afterthought or an imposition. I didn’t finish the paint job on her boyfriend, but did paint the other two, which I thought had a good chance of getting them all. When she came up to me, I stood back, away from all the crazy eyes.
“Boys and their toys.” She said louder than usual, drinking some sort of soda.
“Sorry?”
“Kids, look at them. What did they spend thousands of dollars on? Beautiful paint jobs that will never see the light of day except at these swap meets.”
I corrected him. “A car show is called a car show.”
“Whatever. It’s not very practical.”
“If you’re not interested in cars, what are you doing here?”
“You see that green Chevy over there? That’s my boyfriend’s. We towed it behind his custom truck. Boys and their toys, I’ll never understand.”
“Let me guess, he’s not as good with you as he is with his car, right?”
“If he would have given me even a tenth of the time it took me to polish that car, I would have been the happiest woman in the world. So, I’m here today to support my man; well, that’s what he told me, I guess anyway, when will it be over when I’m here doing this?” she said, looking at her watch.
“Well, the judging will start in about an hour, and depending on the number of cars participating, it will probably take at least two and a half hours. And then there will be the counting of votes. Hey, you should leave here after four o’clock. “The hour is about half an hour.
“Are you scolding me?”
“I’m sorry.” I replied. He pulled out his phone, dialed someone’s number and started yelling into the phone.
“He told me for hours. Even if he gets first place, I would never wait here all day.”
“Let me tell you, he won’t even get first place.”
“How do you know? Are you one of the judges or something?”
“No, but I drove two cars in the race that looked better than that.” I boasted and looked at her. She didn’t seem impressed.
“Tell me, how much did you spend painting these cars?”
“Four to five thousand,” I replied.
“Everyone?” She looked more impressed now.
“Yes, everyone does. Why are you so surprised? I’ll even give them a ten percent discount if they win my store and give me the card.”
“Like I said, I can never understand boys and their toys.” She finished her last drink, put her big sunglasses on top of her head and showed me her big brown eyes. She looked bored and frustrated, then she took off her sunglasses, tied her shoulder-length light brown hair into a ponytail, and stuck the sunglasses back into her hair.
“I’m Steve Moore, by the way,” I said, extending my hand.
“Sue Williams,” she replied, shaking my hand. “Well, I’ll have to find my goofy boyfriend and tell him I’m going to the mall while he does his thing. I’ll come back and see what he’s doing, I think I owe him a lot. Maybe I’ll see if you’re around.”
“Here, take one of my cards.” I pulled a card out of my top pocket and handed it to her. “When he loses to me, you can give him the card and tell him I predicted it. Maybe he’ll want me to repaint his car for him.” Su looked at the front and back of the card, then put it in the back pocket of your jeans.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you at the trophy ceremony.” She sighed softly and walked away.
Nice looking booty, but her boobs are a little too small for my taste. I laughed a little as I watched her walk away, thinking it would be better for her to walk away than come towards me. Cute. Beautiful face and killer ass. If she were a guy, they would say she looked like tall water, because she must have been a hundred and ten pounds and at least five feet eight inches tall, mostly legs. She wasn’t wearing a bra and I could only see her boobs through her designer t-shirt. Her boobs had nipples on the bumps that reminded me of a high school girl who hadn’t started growing yet. Oh well, that’s her boyfriend’s problem; I have bigger things on my mind right now.
It was a long hot afternoon. There weren’t many clouds in the sky and by noon my shirt was sticking to me. It was soaked with sweat. I could feel beads of sweat running down the sides of my face to the middle of my back. I took off my red baseball cap, wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my T-shirt, and smiled thinking about what would happen if it rained in the summer. Sue was right; most of these cars never saw the light of day. They either park in luxury trailers or in garages to see the light of day at events like this.
Looking at the eight-row show car, I think there are over a million dollars worth of vehicles here. One day I want a custom car that will stand out when I pass by. Will I drive it every day? Damn it. What’s the point of having something like this if no one sees it? I didn’t want a china doll in a glass box, I wanted something that would attract attention, and chick magnets were what I wanted. I don’t have a steady girlfriend now, and I don’t even want to find one. But look at some of the women here, I don’t even want them, the maintenance is too high. People bring them here in shorts and little tube tops so they can stand next to their cars and attract a crowd.
Looking at my boyfriend’s 1968 Chevrolet, I noticed that Sue hadn’t returned yet. My boyfriend looked at his watch from time to time and didn’t look happy. Oh well, Sue cared the least if he didn’t come first. Well, at least I hope she didn’t.
After the judging is over and the votes are counted the speeches begin. There are four classes and the winner of each class will compete for the overall best in show award. One of my cars was in the top four along with Sue’s boyfriend’s car and the other two cars looked the least attractive.
I don’t know why they deliberately delay these awards shows because at this point everyone is hot and sweaty and just wants it to be over. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sue stand back next to her boyfriend.
“Go ahead,” someone shouted from the back of the crowd, and everyone cheered. A beautiful 1964 Ford truck in Apple Red Metallic finished fourth. I knew the guy who was doing the paint job, and even though he was smiling, I knew exactly how he was feeling inside. A jet black and fire engine red 2008 Corvette finished third. I bet it would have been number one or number two. That left Sue’s boyfriend’s green Chevy and my friend’s canary yellow and red gold Chrysler 300.
I could see the excitement on both owners’ faces as the tension grew. When my friend’s car won, I saw him jumping up and down like crazy while Kenny’s face was flushed. Both the first and second place trophies were bigger than necessary, but the first place check was the most valuable to my friend. He found me, gave me a big hug, then walked to the stage to receive the honor as everyone applauded and gathered around his car.
I am excited and know that I will get at least one or two jobs from this show. I was standing near my friend’s car and several people started talking to me about cars they might be interested in painting. Sue’s boyfriend did not give in, he kicked the ground and cursed himself. Although I couldn’t hear what he was saying, the look on his face made me feel bad.
Before he got angry at her, I saw Sue say, “This is just a bullshit car show.” Then I saw Sue give him my business card and watch him tear it into a million pieces and throw it back at her. She waved her arms and gave it back to him. They all started to riot now. I wanted to go and save him, but I felt like it had nothing to do with me.
I was talking to a guy about a 2006 Honda he wanted to paint when I felt a hand on my shoulder; it was Sue.
“Do you mind if I stand with you? My boyfriend is such an idiot and I don’t even want to be anywhere near him right now.”
“It’s alright; I think he’s just a little upset about losing.”
“When I told him what you said to me and gave him my card, he said the whole thing is fixed. I guess I shouldn’t tell him that it’s not the end of the world, they will be on another show. That’s when he tore up his business card and threw it at me.
“Okay, I’ll be your master and protector,” I told her, and went back and talked to the kid about his Honda and told him the estimated price. I never saw her put her arms around me or her boyfriend run toward where we were standing. The guy I was talking to must have seen and heard it, because his eyes widened and he took two steps back.
“Sue, come on, let’s get out of here,” Kenny growled at her.
“You go ahead and I’ll find my own way home. I don’t think I want to be with someone who can’t control his temper or talk to me like you do.”
I think he wanted to hit him, which he probably would have done if I hadn’t been there. I saw him clench his fists and get angry. That’s when I pulled Sue behind me. I felt like every blood vessel and vein in his face was turning from cherry red to dark purple, popping out of the skin. I just stared at him, waiting to see what was going to happen next. I’m four inches shorter than Kenny and maybe forty pounds lighter. I was half expecting to get my ass kicked when he surprised me.
“Keep this bitch to yourself, she’s not worth the trouble,” he yelled at me before walking back to his car. I breathed a sigh of relief; my body relaxed and sweat stopped pouring out of every pore of my body.
“Boys and their toys,” she whispered again as she watched him walk away. “Okay, now you have to take me home, are you almost done?” She stood with her hands on her chest and looked at me through her big sunglasses.
I’m starting to understand how Kenny is feeling right now. I’m glad I didn’t have to take the heat for it.
“Can you give me a minute, I’m taking care of something?” I told him, I was starting to get a little annoyed with him myself.
“Okay, I’ll wait there.” She pointed to the stand next to the stage. “Please let me know when you are ready to go.” She turned and left. It took me just over half an hour to finish. I must have sent hundreds of cards and when I thought of Sue I felt good about myself.
“Are you ready to go?” I said with a hint of a smile.
“I was ready to go at ten this morning,” she replied.
We pulled up to the parking lot and climbed into my 2004 Chevrolet S10 pickup truck. It had a million miles on it and needed paint, but most importantly, it needed a good cleaning.
“You paint a car like that, point to show a car that’s going by, and then drive a car like that?”
“This is my work truck, and if you ride in it, you can always walk home.”
“I’m not saying I’m above it, just thought you’d drive around with, you know, some flashy stuff to show off your work.”
“I can’t afford my own paint right now, and I don’t want to. I invest most of my money in my business so I don’t owe anyone money.”
“That’s really smart. I think when business is in a slump, you can weather the storm.”
“It happens, and since I’m still living at home, my expenses are minimal. However, I have my eye on a smaller place that I can afford in about two to three years. Until then, I’m building myself up. It’s all about connecting with the right people and trying to improve every paint job I do.”
I think this might surprise him a bit.
“You think I’m a fool, don’t you?” At first he said nothing.
“Okay, so I thought you were just a good old country boy; sorry about that. You really have your life planned out. Does your girlfriend care about that?”
“Not much, because I don’t have anyone open right now. Are you applying for the position? If you are, I’m accepting applications.” I gave Sue my best Paul Newman smile. I had her big pale blue eyes, but nothing else. I guess Sue didn’t mind it too much because a month later we were officially boyfriend and girlfriend. Think about it. We’re one of the oddest couples ever. Uptight college accountant and blue collar painter, but for some reason it worked for us. Maybe it’s because I treat her like a real person and take the time to meet her needs. Whatever it was, our relationship blossomed and we started saying the “L” word to each other and talking about what would happen if we got married.
I realize this is probably not the greatest love story you’ve ever heard, but it’s how we met and fell in love. Although Sue had never seen the inside of a body shop, she knew the principles of running a successful business. I would like to say that all of my success is due to my hard work and even a little luck, but I would be lying. Sue inspired me to expand my business and take advantage of opportunities I wouldn’t normally get. Some were successful, but most were not. Hey, she didn’t even mind if we took our old truck on a date. She wants my hands to be clean at all times, including removing paint from under my nails when we go out, especially with her friends.
“Sue, I’m a blue-collar worker. I work with my hands all day long and they get dirty and grubby; I don’t work in a dingy office like you do.”
“Steve, as you say, you may be a blue-collar worker, but you don’t have to look like a blue-collar worker. You’re also a successful business owner and sometimes you have to wear that hat. I’m not telling you to show off, I’m just reminding you that people perceive you very differently when you wear a coat and tie than when you wear ripped jeans.
