5~The Fork in the Road

Sorry isn't enough sometimes... Sometimes you have to change. ~Unknown

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Chapter 5

The room was silent, and the lighting was low as Duncan slipped out of bed without a word to Lydia, and it stayed quiet as he went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and got ready for his evening with Angelica. Once Duncan had cleaned himself up, he sat on the edge of the bed, put on his socks, slipped on his pants, buttoned them up, and walked into the closet for his dinner jacket and accessories. The words of his father-in-law was still ringing in his ears as he opened a drawer to pull out a gold watch fuming under his newly pressed collar.

He stepped out as he buckled the band and looked up to see Lydia's wide brown eyes staring at him, and a smirk grew on his face. If his father-in-law thought he would tell Duncan Baker what to do, that idiot had another thing coming!

Duncan splashed on some cologne while Lydia sat silently, her hands wrapped in the sheets and covering her mouth. Then, when he turned to leave, she broke her silence. "Where are you going?"

"Out," Duncan said, turning back around.

"Out where?"

"Just out,"

"Will you be gone long?"

"Yes,"

"When will you be home?"

"I won't,"

"You won't," Lydia bit her lip and nodded. "Can I ask you a question?" she murmured, but

Duncan didn't even bother to answer, just glanced over at her. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You know," She started, then wiped the heavy flow of tears that began to fall with the sheets. "Pull out at the end. Why did you do that?"

Duncan picked up his gray wool trench coat and fixed his glare at his wife. "Because your father told me I'd better make his little girl happy, but that's not my job anymore, Lydia. I don't want to be a father, I don't want to be tied down, and I don't want to be married to a woman whose only goal in life is to decorate the front of the house. It's boring; you're so damn boring."

Lydia's eyes went wide as she sat up straight, clenching the sheets in her hands. "I can change, Duncan; I can be anything you want me to be,"

"Not so damn pathetic would be a great start," Duncan growled and shook his head. "Have some respect for yourself, at least. Or do you plan to be this needy your whole life? First, it's your father who helps you along, and then I come along, and then you cling to me. I wanted your money Lydia, I needed it to start my life, and now I've got it. Why don't you do something with yourself like get a job or do something useful other than living off other people's money."

"Why would you say that to me? I thought you loved me." Lydia said with a tremble in her voice.

"In all honesty, Lydia, I never loved you, and now it's over,"

"Over?"

"You heard me. I can't keep living with a woman who's sucking the life out of me."

"No, Duncan, I try to let you live the way you want. I don't care if you love your work or going out. All I'm asking for is a little bit of your time."

"My time is precious, and my books are full. I don't have room in my life for a needy woman and an overbearing father-in-law,"

"Did daddy say something to you?"

"Why don't you go ask him," Duncan answered as he walked for the door.

"Please, Duncan, I love you so much; please don't do this to me. I promise I'll make you happy; I'll get a job, and I'll get away from my father and even dress sexy for you. I'll even sell the house to get a penthouse apartment in the best place in the city. Just please, give me another chance." Lydia said, choking on a sob.

"The way you grovel is one of the things I loath about you."

Lydia's hands came up, covering her mouth like he had just stolen the breath from her body. Duncan grinned and turned to leave; when she asked, "What about your clothes and things? Are you coming back for them?"

Duncan glanced over his shoulder and shook his head before heading out. "Burn them or throw it all away if you want. I don't care. I can buy new things when I find a place to live." He replied, slipping off his wedding band and leaving it on the dresser.

Lydia's sobs echoed from the bedroom as he headed downstairs, and a grin came to his face. "Well, Bill, you wanted to see who was badest; I just gave you a spanking you'll never forget."

The next couple of days were quiet, for once. No, Lydia texting him every five seconds, making calls to Syble, asking his secretary questions about his whereabouts, and sending gifts to him like he was a child. It had been so quiet that he thought Lydia might even show up at the office making a scene about him coming home. A part of him thought that might've been pretty fun to see. However, it did shock Duncan that Lydia had not put up more of a fight for him, and he was grateful not to have a scene made at the office, yet he was a little disappointed at the same time.

Duncan stared at the computer, looking at his next victim, a one-hundred-year-old cookie company, and smirked when he dug deeper into their finances when Syble buzzed in. "Excuse me, Sir, but I have an Alfred Rossi on the line."

Without a word, Duncan picked up the phone. "Baker,"

"I've heard that you've been looking into our pasta company. Is that true?" Alfred's voice hissed.

"Only glancing, Al, that's all."

"Glancing is not your thing, Dunc, and you and I both know it. We've been friends for a long time, and I want to know if you are looking into setting up a hostel take over on my family's company or not!"

There was a silence that Duncan let play on for longer than necessary before he answered.

"No, Al, I'm not looking into your company. There is a limit to just how far a man can go, and friends are off-limits."

Alfred took a moment before he answered. "Are you sure? I mean, you would tell me, right Duncan?"

"Of course I would. Now, I've got to let you go. I have a lunch date with a very impatient woman, and she will not be happy with me if I show up late."

"Alright, I'll see you next Sunday for golf."

"You bet. I always love taking your money from you."

"Yah, yah, this time I'm going to win. So, let's go big,"

"Bring it,"

" Double or nothing,"

"Twenty grand? Oh brother, you know I'm in."

"Next Sunday it is then." Alfred chuckled, then hung up.

"There's a sucker born every minute," Duncan chuckled when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter,"

Syble walked in with some folders in her hand. "I've got the records you asked for, sir. Unfortunately, they had to go down into the basement for these," She stated, placing the papers on the desk.

"This is all the paperwork on old land titles for the Rossi pasta company?"

"Yes, among some other things they found. And you were right; most of the older files of the company had not been uploaded for some reason."

"I could only imagine why," Duncan smirked, getting up from his seat and putting on his coat. "I'm heading out to lunch. Get everyone together and let them know it will be a long work night tonight. I want this deal ready to go by Sunday."

"Yes sir," Syble said, picking up the phone.

When Duncan stepped outside, he glanced around and found his limo and driver missing again. "I swear if that idiot isn't here in two seconds, he's fired!"

While he stood out in the cold, snarling under his breath and going to pull his phone from his pocket, a yellow cab pulled up. "You need a ride, buddy?" An overweight gray-haired man asked from a dingy, fingerprint-covered, open window of the dirtiest yellow cab he'd ever seen.

Duncan glanced at the older man, back out to the busy street, then to his watch, and cursed under his breath before getting into the cab. "553 Parkland Hotel, and hurry," He growled. With a slam of the heavy metal door, Duncan got on his phone, called the limo company, and cussed out the man on the other line before hanging up and texting Angelica that he would be late.

The fake leather was pealing in the back seat, and it smelled like someone had gotten sick recently, and no one bothered to clean it up properly. Duncan's head fell back, stared up at the ripped, stained roof from only God knows what, and shook his head. It had been a strange day. Nothing had been going right, and there was a knot in Duncan's stomach, and he wasn't sure why. He had gone over all of his accounts and made sure everything was in place for his new ventures but couldn't get the feeling to subside. Then there was that damn dream that kept haunting his thoughts. All he wanted now was some quiet and to be alone with his thoughts, but this cabbie had other ideas.

The radio in the cab was prehistoric. The dials were stained with buttons to change the station. The speakers must have matched the stereo because it sounded like it was being shouted out through a cone with someone crinkling paper in the microphone, making the noise even more irritating.

A man's voice broke through from all the static, and Duncan strained to hear what the man was saying. The speaker must have been ancient because his voice shook with each word, and he gasped for breath in between them. "Most people think getting hurt physically is the most horrendous thing that can devastate a life, but the Lord says there can be something even worse. I'm not giving anyone a free pass when they harm a person physically, but Jesus says in Matthew chapter 12:36-37, "I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give an account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.

"How many of you have gotten into a fistfight, slapped, or spanked when you were younger? You can remember the fight and even the punch you took to the jaw or the gut, but you can't remember the pain even though it hurt. I can understand that because I was a boxer in my younger days. I remember more than a couple of fights that left me battered, bruised, and bleeding. But now, when I look back, even though I was hurt, even had to go to the hospital, I don't remember the pain.

Now, think about when someone said something to you or about you. Maybe it was something simple about how you had disappointed your parent, or maybe your spouse told you that they didn't love you anymore, or could it have been someone trying to be vicious and told you that you were ugly or needed to lose weight. Maybe it was something as cruel as you weren't worthy of being loved. When you think back to what was said to you, how it felt, and the pain it brought you, I bet most of you can still feel that same pain as you did on that same day. The memory doesn't dim or fade; the hurt is still fresh, and if you pick at it, it will bleed like it did the very first day. That is the power of words. They are a double edge sword. But the word of God says the same mouth that can cause destruction can also bring comfort.

"Proverbs has many things to say about a person's mouth and what it can bring. For example, Proverbs 15:28 says, "The heart of the righteous ponders how to answer, but the mouth of the wicked pours out evil things." Tell me, how do you use your mouth? Is it to build others around you up, or is it to tear them down? If you can't stop and say the first but think it is only the latter, then just remember what Proverbs 13:3 says, "Whoever guards his mouth preserves his life; he who opens wide his lips will come to ruin,"

Lydia sitting on the bed naked, wrapped in a sheet, flooded Duncan's mind. The look on her face, the tears in her eyes. He remembered the joy he had crushing his wife under his foot, but now all he could see was her face, pale, lost, with her lip trembling as he dropped his wedding band on the dresser.

The last thing Duncan ever did was rethink his actions, yet he was sitting in a cab, listening to this older man's voice continue. "There are consequences for everything we do in life. Whether it be good or bad, remember what Paul said in his letter to the Galatians, "Whatsoever a man soweth, he shall also reap," Have you been hurtful today? Have you torn down your neighbor, employee, friend, or wife? If you have, think on your actions and repent of your sins, and come to find forgiveness in Jesus,"

"Will you please turn this crap off!" Duncan snarled at the cabbie.

The gray-haired man glanced at Duncan from the rear-view mirror and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but this is my cab buddy, and this is my favorite pastor." The man said but looked Duncan over. "But I will turn it down for you if it bothers you to hear it, and you can shut the window if you want,"

Duncan reached forward, pulled the little piece of plastic shut, and then sat back. He sat there trying to get his thoughts together. What was wrong with him? Why was some Bible beater's stupid words affecting him at all? He could care less about Lydia or how she felt, and anyways, she wasn't his problem anymore. He had already got the paperwork going for the divorce. So then why did he feel so guilty?

The car suddenly stopped pulling Duncan from his pondering, and there was a knock on the thick plastic divider, making him glance up, and the cabby waved. "That's forty-five seventy,"

Fixing his black leather gloves, then slicking back his hair, Duncan pulled out a fifty, slid open the window, and threw it through the window, "Keep the change."

When the cab pulled out, Duncan took a breath and walked over to the doorman, was offered a good afternoon by the man, to which Duncan didn't see the need to reply, and walked into the hotel's lobby. He checked in his coat and walked over to the maître d, who already had a smile on his face, knowing who Duncan was. "Mr. Baker. So glad to see you this afternoon. Your company has already been seated and served the champagne you had asked for." The man said, walking alongside Duncan as Angelica came into view.

"Wonderful,"

A sly grin came to her lovely and promising red lips when Angelica looked up from her phone. Duncan wondered how a woman could be completely dressed and still look like she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. As he made his way over, everything that had plagued his mind only moments ago, completely lost on what he would be doing in an hour or so, when his phone rang. He took it from his pocket and saw that it was Syble, and it was a nine one, one.

He shook his head and walked back out to the lobby with a swear, thinking of what would be so essential to be a nine one, one? Syble never used it unless it was an absolute emergency. His mind went over paperwork, the files, meetings, but nothing came to mind. "Syble, what's going on?"

"Did your father-in-law call you?"

"Bill, no way would he call me?"

"He was looking for you," Sybil said but then stopped. "I'm sorry, sir; I mean, I told him that I would get ahold of you, but,"

Duncan rolled his eyes, knowing that fat bastard probably wanted to cus him out over sending over divorce paper to Lydia. "Just tell Bill where I am. He can come and find me if he wants to,"

"Mr. Baker, Duncan, I'm so sorry,"

"What are you sorry for?"

"Your wife was found in the front of your home this afternoon. She killed herself,"