Sally's Trip to the Theater

I stepped to the kitchen. She hadn't heard me so I tapped on the wall. She turned around, gasped a little I guess. She put her hand to her chest. Sally had what I'd call smallish breasts. They were pretty, well-shaped, like two pretty little pears, small maybe, but I had to admit they were just the way I liked them. I gave her what I was afraid was a somewhat tentative smile, "Did I scare you?"

She woofed, "Yes, but come in and sit down. Can I get you a beer, a drink?"

I stepped over and took my usual place, "No, I think I'll just sit and watch you," she blushed.

Sally got the steaks out. She got the onions off the stove top, and pulled out two baked potatoes she'd had in the microwave, "I have some fresh string beans ready. Let me warm them up in the microwave."

I waited while she finished. It was just another minute, and she and I were seated at our kitchen table having dinner just like it was any other day in the week, it wasn't though. We ate, boy the steak was good, and then we scraped the dishes and put them in the dishwasher together just like we'd done hundreds of times before.

When we finished I asked her, "Where do you want to do this?"

She said, "How about the living room?"

Together we got up and went to the living room. I sat down first. I sat on the sofa. She sat down beside me.

I looked at her, "OK."

Sally clamped her hands together on her lap. She looked at me. She looked scared, "First I want to say I love you. I mean I don't just love you, I adore you. I don't want you to leave me. I want to be with you forever. I want to make your babies. And John, I'm scared."

I kept my cool, "OK, OK, let's get with it. Why'd you do it? How many other men have you been with? Was he all that good? I mean was he worth it? Was it worth ruining, no killing our marriage?"

She reached across to get one of my hands, but I pulled away, "No Sally tell me what's with you."

Sally sort of cringed, "First until last week you were the only man. I never...," she hiccoughed, "before...I mean...you know," she coughed. It sounded like a cough..."and Sam...he...he was nothing," she seemed to be trying to catch her breath, "I mean nothing. It was nothing, like nothing," I watched her, she was holding her throat. I figured more phony tears.

Sally seemed to be trying to catch her breath, she said, "I didn't like it. The whole time he...he was doing me I kept thinking about you. I was dry. There was...well...no excitement...not like you. I was so mad at you...Look John," she started gasping for air.

I watched her as she blushed. No that wasn't right! She was turning white! She sort of coughed again. No it wasn't a cough; it was a...God damn she was gasping for air! She was choking! She was trying to get up, to stand up.

I reached across and grabbed her by the arm. I pulled her over on my lap. I started pummeling her stomach with my fist. All at once she expectorated this mass of phlegm and a huge piece of steak. She kept coughing and wheezing. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were filled with tears. I took the hem of the apron she'd been wearing and wiped her mouth. Jesus I thought, fucking helpless!

Sally leaned into me and started to weep, "Oh John...I know about your business trips. I know about what men do..."

I interrupted her, "You all right?"

She whimpered back, "Yes now, thank you."

I got back on track, "What's that? What you just said. What do you mean, 'what men do, my business trips'?"

She sniffled. Shit she was on my lap. How did she wangle that? She said, "I heard the girls at my work. They used to talk. John I understand. I mean it's OK if..."

I was a little put off, "Understand what? What girls? What talk?"

"Oh John...I know. I don't care, not really. Well I do care, but..."

This was exasperating, "Sally, what the fuck are you talking about?"

She leaned back a little, "You and the other women, you know, your lovers."

"What the fuck? What lovers?"

"I know John. The girls explained it to me. You're a man. You have needs. Me, I'm just...you know..."

I was really royally 'fucking A' pissed to shit! I yelled at her, I got right in her face and yelled, "Other fucking women! Sally there are no other fucking women. Not in my life!"

She was scared. I'd scared her. Fuck! Why couldn't she have been scared a week ago?

Sally murmured, "The girls at work said...they said when you went on your trips you...you know..."

"No I don't know Sally. Why don't you tell me?"

"They said you probably met up with one of the women you work with, that you...you know...have sex."

I never heard such bullshit. She had to be making this up. I wondered who she'd been talking to. This story was just too good. I told her, "Sally stop this stupid bullshit. If you think some wild assed story like this is going to get me to...," I stared at her. Sally wasn't lying! This wasn't some made up story. She really thought..., "Sally that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say," she started coughing again, "You're not choking again?"

She shook her head no.

"Sally I admit I fooled around. I fooled around quite a bit before we got married, but since we got married I've never even seriously looked at another woman. OK I admit I look, but I've never once considered doing anything."

She replied very quietly. It was a small childlike voice, "You haven't?"

"No Sally I haven't, and don't tell me you hooked up with that Sam guy because you thought I was."

I watched her as she sighed deeply. She was trembling, "No, that wasn't why, not exactly," she looked at me like she was some little kid, "I just got mad. I mean I thought you were...you know...well...I thought I needed to...well...do something, something to get you back before you...," she sniffled, "before you left me. I mean before you chose someone else. I thought; well I thought first the play, and then later we could, and I could, and you would," she started whimpering, "but you called and said you were leaving again, and then you said you didn't give a rat fuck about the play...or...or anything. At first I wanted to cry, but then I got mad, really mad. I mean really mad. I decided I'd show you. I'd show you good. That's when I decided to...well... Then you said to bring your bag to the airport. That's when I decided to find someone...someone I could throw in your face. I asked around, but Sam was the only one. No one else took me seriously. Most only laughed."

That sort of aggravated me too. Who would laugh at a chance at my wife? Gee, was I stupid, "So you got this guy Sam, and he fucked you."

Sally looked down. She wouldn't look at me, "Yes I guess so, I guess."

"You guess. He fucked you Sally. I saw him fuck you, and I saw you suck him off."

She kept looking away, but this time she nodded, "I suppose I did. I guess. I mean I did yes. But I didn't like it. John I didn't mean it. No, I don't know. I just...he was smaller than you, and all I thought about was how mad I was. I didn't even think about him, or what I was doing, or what we were doing at all. I just kept thinking about what you said...anyway, he might have fucked me, but I didn't fuck him back."

"What I said? Are you stupid? Not fuck him back? His dick was inside you. Why'd you even do it anyway?"

"The 'rat fuck' thing."

I was thoroughly and totally angry, "Sally didn't it ever occur to you that you were throwing away our marriage? Didn't it ever occur to you I might have been busting my ass for us? Didn't it ever cross your amoeba sized brain that you might be hurting me in the worst way?"

She really started crying then, "No, yes, I mean no, I mean...Oh John you have all those beautiful women around you. I saw them at that one party. They're all crazy about you. John you're so handsome. You could have any one of them. I hear people talk when we go out. I hear what they say about you...about me. They see you. Then they see me. I hear them; they say 'what's he doing with her'?"

I listened, but I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

She kept going on and on, "You could have anybody. You're Brad Pitt. Me, I'm Gilda Radner," she started crying again.

I was so angry. I yelled at her, "Stop crying. You're just feeling sorry for yourself, and who the hell is Gilda Radner?"

Sally sniffled some more, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, "I'm sorry for crying so much. Gilda Radner was a star on that Saturday Night Live Show back in the 1970's."

I was stumped, "Shit Sally, that was before I was born. Christ you're younger than me. How did you come up with someone like that?"

"My dad used to lie around the house all day. He'd bought these tapes of all the old shows. He used to make me and my brothers and sisters watch," Sally sort of smiled, "Sometimes they were funny. Gilda Radner was one of the people. She died of something, cancer I think. She was ugly like me."

I shouted at her, "Sally you are one stupid broad! You are not ugly. You're beautiful! I think you're absolutely totally breathtakingly beautiful. Holy Jesus shit Sally! I married you didn't I?"

She got real quiet again. I could barely hear her as she murmured, "Yes."

I had to leave. I had to get out of there, "Sally I'm leaving," I watched her, and realized right away I'd made a mistake, "no I'm not leaving for good. I'm leaving tonight. You're not making any sense. I'll call you later in the week. Meanwhile you just stay home here and try to figure out what you want."

She jumped up at that, "I already know. I want you!"

"Sally get your head out of your ass," I got up to leave, "I'll call you in a couple days," I marched with great deliberation straight toward the front door. At the door I turned, "Oh, and yeah. I really liked the steak," with that I opened the front door and left. Jesus, I thought; if this isn't a mucked up fess.

~~-v-~~

It was Tuesday; time to go back to work. When I walked in the front of the office I was rushed by a crowd of fellow employees. They surrounded me and I was battered with a cacophony of chatter and back slaps. Finally Mellisa got to me, John you've got to go right in and see the boss."

I was dumbfounded. I thought I'd done all right the previous week. Had something gone wrong? I asked Mellisa, "What wrong?"

She smiled at me, "Just go see the boss."

I stepped to the boss's office door and knocked. Mellisa was behind me, "No just go in."

I went in. The boss, Richard Gronier, got up from his chair and walked around. He grabbed my hand, "My boy you're marvelous!"

"Marvelous? Me? What?"

"I'm so proud of you. You didn't just hit a homerun last week; you hit a grand slam."

"I did?"

My boss started talking, "Well since we; I mean since you pulled down that Boston Johnson account our phones have been ringing off the hook. The local J.P.B. people want us, and we got a call from Pennsylvania, you know the big H.D.K. account. Not only that we got a nibble from the Stang group. Even H.I.V. way back in Virginia gave us a call. I tell you John; you're success with Johnson is bringing them in from all over. Hell I might have to give you that promotion I've been hinting at."

"Shit boss; that's great!"

"You said it son. Now see here; we're arranging a big party for this Friday night. I mean a real feast. I'm bringing in all our people. This is big. We need to share this with everyone, and I want you and your lovely wife to be there."

I was numb, "Sure boss; we'll be there." The rest of the day was a blur. I know I worked: I just couldn't remember what it was I did. Later as I got in my car I wondered what to do about my wife. Sally and I weren't the sure thing my boss thought we were. Even if we were she'd made it kind of clear she was afraid to be seen with me at my work; she was afraid she'd look bad when compared to the 'so-called' babes I worked with.

I decided to drive home. I'd decided. Sally was going to the big bash Friday night, and I'd see to it she'd be the belle of the ball. If she demurred then that would be it; I'd dump her.

One thing I'd let slide about Sally was her appearance. It wasn't that she looked bad or anything; it was just that most of her clothes never seemed to quite work. Everything just seemed to hang on her; like everything was just a size too large. That wasn't always, but it seemed that way sometimes, especially the last year or so. I had to straighten that out.

I called her on my way home and told her to get dressed, that she and I were going out for a little while. I could tell by the tone of her voice; her hesitant, I'd say tremulous tone, that she wasn't especially excited about the prospect.

When I got home and walked in the living room I saw she was already dressed and waiting for me. I recognized the outfit. It was a nice suit; one of her work dos, a pretty A-line skirt, an angular button up white blouse, and a smart looking jacket. The only thing wrong with it was the thing just looked to be about one size too large. I mean her neck was lost in the collar, the skirt's material, though only cotton, seemed to overwhelm her legs, and the jacket was way too large across her shoulders. I guessed Sally just didn't know what looked good on her. I'd made up my mind. I was going to start to fix that tonight. Shit I'd either been too busy to notice, or too nice to comment for way too long. I had her now, and I was going to do something about it.

Nordstrom had a place over at Cherry Creek. I waved at Sally, "Come on. We've got some shopping to do."

She picked up her 'way to large' pocket book and asked, "Where're we going?"

"Nordstrom's', I replied.

Sally reacted, "Nordstrom's? Nordstrom's! They're way too expensive! I don't need anything, and you don't shop there!"

I tugged her out the door and pulled her down to the Mustang, "Yes you do, and that's where we're going."

I got her in the car, and off we went. I must say we shopped and shopped. We nearly bought out the store. Luckily I found out pretty quick what the problem was. Sally felt that, since she was an adult and over thirty she should be buying in the women's department. There was only one problem with that. Everything in the women's department was too large. We scouted the place out. I found a sales lady, and we started to hit some of the other departments. They had a 'contemporary' department, a junior department, a deb shop, and a very nice department that carried children's apparel that fit Sally quite nicely.

At first Sally was mortified, but I made it clear this was going to be one of the conditions of any rapprochement. Once that was understood things went more smoothly. I saw to it that she had more than enough stuff, and that everything fit just the way I wanted it. After a while Sally got in the swing of it; she started to enjoy herself, she was like a kid.

While I watched her it dawned on me that, while I was probably overdressed, and stuffed into suits and such that were way too expensive for someone with my kind of job, Sally had compensated for my extravagance by being overly parsimonious in her clothing choices. I knew she'd always had decent taste; she'd just put her interests aside in an attempt to save money so there'd be more for me. That I decided, if we tried to make a go of it, would come to an end.

While we shopped I wangled her into an especially pretty dress. It was made of a very finely woven linen. It was light brown, and a good match for her hair and eyes. It wasn't a mini-dress, but the hem did come just above the knee. It buttoned up the back, but had a very feminine peter pan collar, slightly capped shoulders, and three quarter length sleeves with delightful cuffs that matched the size of the collar. The dress had what the sales lady called a 'shelf bra'. I liked it. I got Sally to buy a pair of shoes with low two inch heels with thin straps across the top front of her ankles. We got a variety of colors of panty hose too, but mostly I liked the slightly darker browns.

Once we were finished and we were leaving the store Sally asked me, "What was all this about?"

I told her, "First if you're worried about the way you look, the best way to solve that problem is to buy clothes that I know you'll look good in because I know I like them. And second, that one pretty dress we got, the brown one? Well you're wearing that this Friday night when we go to my office party," I watched Sally pale visibly at that.

We drove home pretty much in silence. I suggested we stop for something to eat, but Sally said she was too tired. I guessed she was after all the putting on and taking off she'd been doing. Once I'd helped her get everything we'd bought inside the house I left. I was tired too. The only difference was; Sally would be able to stay home and sleep late, while I still had a job.

I reflected on the last thing she said to me once we'd gotten everything in and I was about to leave. She didn't say she loved me or that she was sorry; she just said she'd understand if I left her. She said she'd always known one day I'd leave. I didn't ask her why she thought that. I already had that figured out.

~~-v-~~

The next several work days were good; the time went fast. The boss was right; new clients were clamoring to get on board. The nights were another matter. Wednesday was especially bad. Gee, it had only been a week since the day and night of Sam.

I recalled all the comments other betrayed and deceived husbands had mentioned. It had taken them months, years, and sometimes they never got beyond their initial suffering. Here I'd only been a week and I'd almost completely forgiven her. I hadn't forgotten yet, but yes forgiveness could be close at hand.

Why was I so amenable to forgiveness? Was I that shallow that what she'd done didn't matter? I didn't think I was shallow, but I did wonder. I think the biggest thing was that I believed her. I believed this was her only time. I believed her when she said anger was what had driven her, and I believed her when she opened up about her insecurities.

I had to admit some things to myself too. First, though I'd never tell her, I had to agree with Sally when she said she wasn't pretty. Sally wasn't attractive in the classic sense. She was right when she said she was a mousy, introverted, overmuch self-conscious, and insecure person. I also had to admit that, though I really loved her, I never said or did anything to encourage her to step out of that shell of inferiority she'd built around herself. I had to admit it had been cruelly self-serving for me to let her wallow in her fears.

I had other things I had to answer for too. For one I'd known she'd put a lot of stock in going to that play, yet I'd never bothered to even find out what play it was. I spent some time and looked up what plays had been showing around the city just a week ago. To my surprise there hadn't been all that much out there and those that were available weren't sold out. So what was the big deal?

It took a stroke of luck; it couldn't have been genius for me to come up with what she wanted me to see. The University of Colorado in Denver's drama department had prepared a showing of the Shakespearean play "Troilus and Cressida". They'd only planned a few showings, but they'd been planning and rehearsing for months, and they'd set the thing for just last week. Moreover, several professors had decided to use the play as part of their course requirements. The play had been sold out.

Troilus and Cressida had been a side story in the greater story of the Iliad, and the Iliad, I knew this was a stretch, was the story of a war between the Greeks and the eastern city of Troy, a city many believe was an outpost of the Hittite Empire.

This I figured was where the stretch came in. Sally and I first met in a library where I was searching for literature related to the Persian Wars. In a way it made sense; Sally had found something centered on the Aegean Sea, a region whose history I'd always had an interest in. Though I doubted if there'd been a two month wait; tickets to that play had been at a premium.