A New Beginning Ch. 01

This story is called 'A New Beginning'. It is a story about a man who feels he is jinxed when it comes to women. It is in two parts and will be posted a day apart. I hope you enjoy it.

Edited by LadyCibelle.

Jennie

My name is Alex Martin Sanford, named after my mother's father. When I was sixteen and a junior in high school, my mom got very sick. I didn't know it until later but she had advanced lung cancer and didn't respond to treatment. It happened very quickly and before I even realized that she was so sick, she was taken to the hospital and never returned home. She died before I was seventeen and I was devastated. Dad took it like everything else I could remember: without emotion. It was almost as if he didn't care very much. I realized later that he always reacted like that and that mom's death hit him very hard, but at the time he would never allow me to see that and I became convinced he didn't care. I'm sorry to say that I took all my anger out on him and life at our place was brutal. What had once been a wonderful home turned into a hell on earth for both of us.

He was aware of my feelings about him; the two of us hardly spoke and we didn't get along at all when he was home. I resented him and he just stayed at work to avoid my displeasure. Things deteriorated from there until my grandmother and grandfather took me in to stay with them while dad continued to work long hours at his shop. He had a shop in town where he imported fine pieces of art and sold them to others who hired him to obtain them for him. It was a strange business and the few times he took me in to work with him, I learned very little. I did meet some very strange individuals and a lot of what he did happened behind closed doors, but I was too young to care much. After I moved out, he began to travel more and more and I saw him less and less.

Grandma told me that if I wanted to go, there was money for college. She said it was put aside for me by my mother, so I went to college and majored in architecture. I wanted to be outside and build things like bridges, dams, huge complex buildings; exotic things. Maybe that was to move in a direction away from my father's closet operations, a rebellion of sorts. I had no idea what he really did but, when he took the time to ask, he seemed to approve of what I chose and never voiced any reservations. He paid my bills without comment and always seemed to listen carefully as I described my comings and goings in college when I came home on holidays. He wanted to know who I knew and if there were any special girls in my life. He seemed disappointed when I told him I had no one I really cared about. He would always seem sad then and I knew he was thinking about mom. He had loved her very much. I knew that later as I remembered them together.

I graduated and found a job in a small architectural firm in Cleveland, Ohio. Nothing like my goal yet but I was young and I had time. I still came home on holidays and spent the time with my dad and grandmother and grandfather. They were the major part of my life then since I had few friends. I had been a loner most of my life but more so after mom died.

But as time passed and I got more social, I began to look at girls more seriously. I usually went out with Carl, a good friend that I made at work. There was one girl, Jennie Grandville, that I really liked. She worked in a bank as a loan officer and I met her when I went in to apply for a car loan. She helped me apply and made sure I got the loan and when it went through, I asked her out to take a ride in my brand new Mustang convertible. We began dating and she moved in with me after six months. We seemed to hit it off and we began talking about marriage.

I took her home to meet dad and grandma and grandpa. They all loved her and soon after that, I proposed and she accepted. We married and moved into her bungalow in the suburbs. We began our life as a married couple and started to entertain. We each had friends that we shared and life was good. We partied a lot, met even more people and always seemed to have someplace to go every weekend. Our sex life had always been just OK, but it seemed to be better when we were partying and things were wild. Jennie liked it that way and I enjoyed the sex so I was fine with that too. After a while we realized that we were going out so much and accomplishing so little that we sat down one evening and decided that we were going to start a family and settle down. It was a mutual agreement and Jennie went off her birth control. We settled down then and began to spend more time together at home or with one or two of our closest friends.

After six months of frequent sex that ended in futility, Jennie convinced me that we should go to see a fertility expert. We did, and I found out that I was going to be a problem. I had sperm, but they were few and not very active. I could still fertilize Jennie's eggs but it was a long shot: possible but not likely. We discussed possible remedies and the doctor gave me a shot of something once a month and told me some other things to do. We discussed in-vitro fertilization and some other means of using what sperm I did produce to fertilize her eggs but Jennie had little enthusiasm with those methods so we continued to try.

It was not too long after that when Jennie began to spend one or two evenings each week with Sherry Lederman, one of the girls she worked at the bank with. She told me that she needed the time out to take the stress of trying away. She reasoned that when she was relaxed and happier, it might be better for our chances. She never stayed out late and she did seem happier when she came home so I accepted it as a necessary evil. I had some serious reservations about her going out with Sherry who was single and a little wild, and I would rather she be home with me, but if she needed this time, who was I to deny her.

This continued for the next two months before she finally announced that she was pregnant. Finally, after over a year of trying, we were going to have a baby. I was ecstatic at the prospect of becoming a father. Jennie however, seemed more reserved but I put that down to hormones. When I mentioned it to grandma, she told me that some women were very superstitious early in their pregnancies. She told me to let Jennie set the pace.

Jennie's pregnancy was going well but when we were in the second trimester, Jennie wanted a amniocentesis test done. She was worried that the baby would carry a particular gene that caused Down's Syndrome, something that had occurred in her family before. I didn't think it was necessary since I wouldn't do anything about it if it were to be present, but she wanted to know to make plans if necessary. I agreed, but wondered if the knowledge was worth the risk. Her doctor agreed with her and the test was scheduled.

The day of the test, I was talking with her doctor after the fluid was drawn. I asked about other things amniocentesis could reveal and the doctor told me several. One was paternity and for some reason, I asked her to run that as well but not to tell Jennie. She raised an eyebrow, questioning my motives but I simply told her that I wanted to have the information for my own reasons. She agreed but reluctantly. Since the fluid was already being taken, it involved nothing more than an extra $500 and a sample from me. I arranged for it to be done then and there. As I gave my blood sample, I thought about her nights out with Sherry and her somewhat reserved reaction when she told me she was pregnant. Well, $500 was little enough for peace of mind.

The doctor called Jennie at home to tell her there was no sign of the gene for Down's Syndrome and that seemed to make her happy. I didn't expect the doctor to tell her anything about the paternity since I had made the request in confidence. The results would be sent to me at my place of work. I assumed they were in the mail since the results were in. Jennie was in a good mood after the call and she asked me for a backrub to ease the pains. I agreed but she was not satisfied with that. She wanted to play and we ended up in bed, her giving me a blow job that was one of the best I had in a long time. I asked her what she wanted and made love to her with my mouth. She came with a loud scream, then pulled me up to nestle my face in her new, larger breasts. We ended up spooning, my cock buried inside her but neither of us moving. She just wanted to feel me there as I held her against my body. We fell asleep that way.

We spent the weekend in bed, enjoying each other while we still had the chance to do the things we enjoyed. Soon she would be too big for some of those things so sex was high on our list of priorities. It was strange that now that she was pregnant, our sex life improved. Perhaps it was because she was home now more and more and her nights out had stopped for the time being. I wondered which was the main reason. Either way, I didn't care.

At work, I was so busy that I didn't have time for the mail until late in the afternoon. It was about three weeks after the amnio that I found the envelope from the genetics testing lab and set it aside as I got myself a cup of coffee and closed my office door. It was almost time to shut down for the day so I opened the envelope and took out the letter. I read the results, stared at the letter for what seemed hours then folded it and put it back in the envelope. It was not good news. As I sat there, I was surprised at the lack of emotion I felt. I was almost numb: paralyzed by the news and completely at a loss as to what to do or feel. Was I going crazy? Was I losing my grip on reality? Why couldn't I feel more?

As I sat there, my mind spinning without finding an anchor to stop it, my door opened and my best friend Carl stuck his head inside and asked, "Want to grab a beer before you head home buddy? You look like you could use one." He waited, watching me closely. Carl was my best friend and we had been close since the day I started and he had been assigned to start me out. He was about me age and we had so many things in common. He was my best man at my wedding and he was the first person I told about Jennie being pregnant. Carl was someone I trusted.

I looked up, his presence registering finally as his words made their way into my conscious thoughts. A beer? Did I want a beer? Why not? Why the hell not? I shoved the envelope into my briefcase, snapped it shut and stood. "Let's go. Maybe I'll have two, or even three. You're buying." He backed out, I followed and we went down to the lot. I followed him to a watering hole we used often and went inside to find a table. I wanted someone to talk to and Carl was elected. He wanted a beer; I wanted a friend. We both were going to get what we wanted.

An hour later and several more than two beers, Carl was looking me in the face and asking the million dollar question: "What are you going to do, good buddy?" The answer to that was not yet clear in my mind. I decided to have another beer and think about it. As I was getting our beers, Carl was getting a couple more of our friends over to the table to talk about my options. I objected weakly that it wasn't something I wanted everyone to know but Carl insisted that they were all my friends and that they were trustworthy. I finally gave in and by nine o'clock that evening, we had made some decisions. The first being that we would have one more round before heading home. That decision was unanimously approved by all.

Even though we were all pretty well under the influence, we did make some progress. It was decided by unanimous vote that I had no choice but to divorce her and let the father of the baby support her from now on. After all, I hadn't even seen the baby yet so I had no attachment to it. That was a weak argument but one in my anger I accepted. One of the guys at the table knew a good divorce lawyer. He gave me his name and told me to call him the next morning. He would pave the way for me. The rest of the guys swore on their fresh bottles of beer to keep their mouths shut about what we talked about. I expected most to keep their word and was surprised when I found later that they all did. Carl was the best, keeping his thoughts to himself even during the workday.

We had coffee sent to the table and within an hour, I felt able to drive myself home without killing someone else. The others were in similar state and I once again pledged all of them to silence. Each swore to keep my secret. Carl was good to go and as we walked to the cars, he put an arm around my shoulders and said,

"Look Alex, this night seemed like a lot of fun but it's damned serious for you, I understand that. You need to call that lawyer tomorrow and make arrangements with him. Don't say anything to Jennie yet, not until the lawyer tells you what to do. We'll keep our mouths shut, you can count on that."

"Yeah, OK Carl. But you know it's going to be damn hard to divorce Jennie. I really do love her you know. Why did she have to do this to us? Why did she have to go out and fuck around on me? Why couldn't she just have told me she wanted out? I don't understand that. God, I really do love her, but the thought of her carrying another man's baby is so damn hard to accept."

"I know Alex, but go home and forget it for now. Be patient."

He opened the door to my car and I got in. Twenty minutes later I arrived home, the lights were out and Jennie was sound asleep. I stripped and slid into bed, thankful that she was asleep and I didn't have to talk to her and pretend to care.

The next day, I drove over to talk with my father. I told him what happened and he listened with patience and understanding. He let me purge myself of all of the anger and sadness I felt without judgment or question. When I was done, he closed his shop, drove me to grandma and grandpa's house and we all sat together talking about what I should do. They all asked me my desire and I told them of my plan for divorce. Dad nodded in understanding and so did grandpa.

Grandma asked me if I still loved Jennie and I honestly told her I asked myself the same question. I told her the answer was no, and that the betrayal was too much for me to accept and forgive. She bowed her head in thought for a few seconds and then patted my shoulder. "You have your answer son and you must do what you have to. Go with my blessing." I felt terrible when she said that because it was one of the only times in my life I had lied to my grandma.

The next two days were difficult but I managed to pull myself together long enough to talk to the attorney. As far as the child was concerned, I had no claim to it and no responsibilities to it since once I learned that I was not the father, I initiated divorce proceedings, making it clear to the law that I did not approve and would not accept responsibility. If I had allowed her to carry the child without making this move, I would have been responsible, even if I hadn't known the truth.

We both worked and our salaries were not too different so there would likely be no alimony involved. I also learned that I would have little choice but to split everything right down the middle. With my decision to divorce before the baby was born and my proof that I had no knowledge of the baby's conception, there would be no court ordered child support. We talked about that and agreed on a minimum payment to be deposited in a trust fund for the baby's future. He said the court would look favorably on that move. No fault divorces were just that: no one was at fault and everyone divided the assets and went their separate ways. Once he had frozen all the assets I listed, he told me to talk to Jennie and get things started.

I drove home that night, the idea of what I had to do making it a burden that I had to shoulder. Jennie was unaware that I knew so she was not likely to have been able to make any plans to plead her case so it was going to be a one sided slam dunk, and I had the ball. I walked into the house, noticing that there was no dinner ready or on the stove. I guess this was one of her 'bad days'. Well, I was going to make it worse very quickly.

I found her sitting in her overstuffed chair in the family room, the TV on and her with her feet up on an ottoman. She saw me, waved weakly and turned back to whatever she had been watching. I picked up the remote and turned it off.

"What are you doing? I was watching that. Put it back on. I'm sorry that there's no dinner ready but I've really been sick all day." A touch of anger, her hormones probably out of whack again.

"We have to talk Jennie. Please give me your attention." I stood in front of her, looking down on her as she sat there, a pout on her face and her belly just beginning to stick out when she was sitting. Four months and two weeks along at last count. That was the estimate she gave me, using the last time she and I made love. I guess she expected me to believe I was the father.

She pushed herself up in the chair and looked at me with a touch of impatience. She had been doing that more and more lately. I was sure she also had a bit of contempt for me in that look but she obviously kept that one for when my back was turned. Contempt! After all, that was all she had for me wasn't it? Contempt for the man she married who couldn't get her pregnant? So she took care of that for me?

Instead of saying anything at that minute, I pulled out the paternity test results and gave her the copy I made at work. The samples were identified as 'A' and 'B'. In the key on the bottom of the page, A was identified as my DNA and B was the fetus'. The results were in the outlined box, the one with the dark lines around it. It simply said, "A is eliminated as a parent of B.

Jennie looked at the letter with impatience and was about to say something when she realized the implication. She shut her mouth, read the entire thing slowly and carefully. I watched as the realization of what she held in her hand registered. Her face slowly drained of blood, her fingers holding the paper turned white with the intensity of her grip and her eyes closed in pain. I saw the tears begin and squeeze out between her closed lashes. She said nothing for the longest time. I turned and walked away, my own eyes smarting with the pain of reality. Now it was done. Now it was over.

I was sitting in the kitchen, a glass of water sitting on the table in front of me when she walked in. She sat down across from me and looked at me, waiting for me to acknowledge her presence. I took a sip, swallowed once, then looked up. Her face was pinched and she seemed to be in severe distress. I was amazed at that. What did she have to be sad about? The loss of her patsy husband? The man she held in such contempt? I think not! She could go find the macho bastard who planted the seed for her child to comfort her now. How could this woman go out and screw someone else and then come home and try to pass off his baby as mine? God, how cold was this bitch?

"What do you intend to do now that you know? Aren't you going to yell at me? Call me names? I know you have to be angry with me but can't we talk about it? I know you have questions. Please Alex, talk to me." No denial, not even an attempt to deny it. Even though she was clearly upset and on the verge of tears, that was all she said. So, this was no surprise to her, a fact that I was certain about but it was good to hear it confirmed from her own mouth.

"The divorce papers are complete and you will be served tomorrow either here or at work, whichever you chose. I have made it as simple as possible for you so there should be no problem."

I looked at her as the words slapped into her, her face and body jolting with each one. Each word hurt her, I could see that and for a second, I wanted to reach out to comfort her but the memory of what she did stopped me. The look of pain on her face was almost too much for me and the way she moved her hands, trying to reach toward me then pulling back was difficult to watch.