Discussion Too

This is a sequel to my story 'Discussion.' It is not necessary to read that tale first, but you may wish to for context.

This is a non-erotic story.

Once again, the thermometer read near ninety, Nancy sat at the table in the shade of the umbrella, perusing her New Yorker. Seth grilled the salmon simply, a bit of olive oil, salt, a spritz of lime; she'd already made the tomato salad, it was on the table next to the bottle of chardonnay.

On the way home from work he'd decided this would be the night he'd tell her.

Plating the fish and carrying it to the table, he sipped his wine. "This new vintage isn't quite as robust as the year before," he commented.

"I agree. May I have a slice of bread, please?"

Bites of moments slipped by, more than half the meal was consumed, finally he cleared his throat and declared, a bit more forcefully than he'd meant to, "I'm thinking of having an affair."

She gazed at him, her eyes guarded, a slight throb of pulse in her throat. "Excuse me?"

"I haven't done anything yet. I just thought you should know."

She paused, he could see her lips twitch as she silently counted to ten in French. "You want to get even with me. After all these years."

He hadn't anticipated this line of attack, he listened to the sparrows chirp in the hemlocks. "I wouldn't do it to get even," he said, quietly, calmly, yet the strain he was feeling emerged in the lock of his jaw, the force with which he held his fork. "If I wanted to get even, I'd have done something like this years ago. No, this is entirely different."

"I admitted I made a mistake," she spat, "I walked away from him. But you've never forgiven me, have you?"

"Of course I did. Didn't you listen to me say that all those times in Doctor Kumpf's office?"

"I heard it!" Although her voice was subdued - the neighbors could hear everything - he could sense the anger in her tones. "I just didn't believe it. Oh, I played the game, pretended, but I knew someday you'd make me pay for my mistake." She picked her napkin out of her lap, set it on the table. "There's no use talking to you!"

Abruptly she stood, stared at him for extended seconds, walked to the porch. He heard her heavy, enraged footsteps on the wood, listened to the screen door creak open, swish closed. Would she be back tonight, he wondered?

He put another mouthful of fish onto the fork, savored a swallow of wine. He was disappointed, the discussion hadn't begun to match how it had played out in his imagination. He considered giving Gail a call, asking her to meet him for a drink. If he did, this might be the evening they consummated their relationship; she'd made it quite clear that she was available to him, for the moment. But it seemed that opportunity had an implied expiration, he was sure if he failed to accept her she'd move on.

But, no, that wasn't the answer, not tonight. If he met her he might be angry, frustrated. That was no way to begin a love affair. He realized he needed to be in a much better frame of mind before he agreed to the seduction.

His plate was empty, he began to carry the dishes into the kitchen. He wrapped foil around Nancy's unconsumed salmon, placed it on the refrigerator shelf, and did the same for the bowl of salad. The dishes were hoisted into the washer, he brought the half bottle of wine onto the porch. The nest they'd built on the deck was growing dim in the twilight, he chose not to turn the light on, relished the gloom. He plugged buds into his ears, played an album of soft instrumentals.

How could she think that? That he was trying to 'get even'? There was no getting even for her affair that had lasted fifteen months. Even though it had been almost a decade he still remembered the pain of the night she'd informed him of her romance with another man. The revelation had happened right in this garden, on this porch. He'd been terribly hurt by it, what man wouldn't be?

That night, they'd discussed it a bit then went to bed. He remembered how she'd cuddled to him, offered him her body, but he couldn't accept it. The next day at work he'd fixated on her unfaithfulness, he'd come home, packed a suitcase, gone to a hotel to lick his wounds. He ignored her calls to his cell for two nights, her voice was there when he picked up his phone at work. He remembered her saying, "I want to work this out. Won't you please come home?" He'd stayed away one more evening, just to make a point, but returned on a Friday.

That weekend was a turmoil. Angry words had been uttered, even shouted. He called her names, whore, slut. She'd said she'd made the decision to break it off with her lover, there'd be no more of that she'd promised. Still, Seth had slept in the guest room, in the uncomfortable bed too small for his lanky frame, rather than sleep next to the adulteress.

They began sessions with the counselor quickly, at first determined that yes, they both wanted to save the marriage if possible, then began the necessary exploration into the dynamics of their relationship. Nancy apologized over and over, until he was sick of hearing it, it took him six sessions before he could utter, "I guess I can forgive you." Another eight sessions had passed before the three of them began to feel a sense of relief, that the worst was over, that they could get past it.

If he'd never forgotten Nancy's indiscretion, well, at least he swept it under the rug, decided not to speak of it.

The screen door flashed open, she stood there in a long nightgown, her shoulders bare underneath the straps. He sensed her say something, he removed his earbuds. "What?"

"I said, is there any wine left?"

"No, I finished it all. Should I open another bottle?"

"I'll get it."

The porch was lit by the kitchen bulb through the door and window, he lit the side lamp next to him. He waited, she returned with an open bottle of her favorite red, too sickly sweet for his taste but he accepted a glass, just to be polite. She sat in the chair where they could both see each other, interpret body language.

"Tell me about it," she demanded.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"Very well," Seth consented. "Her name is Gail. I've worked with her for three or four years, you may have bumped into her at a Holiday party, but I wouldn't think you'd remember her. We're friends, good friends. There's always been a, I don't know, an attraction. But we kept it under control.

"Her marriage busted up, he'd cheated on her. I was one of the people she'd rely on to help her through it, we'd have lunch together, maybe a drink after work. Then, last week, she asked me if maybe I'd like to come up to her place one night."

"Nothing's happened?" Nancy asked.

"Nothing. Oh, we've held hands at the bar. But we haven't even kissed."

"Then how do you know she wants an affair? Has she told you?"

"Not in so many words," Seth revealed. "But you just know, don't you? Wasn't it that way with you and Jim?"

A bright flash of light lit up the scene, the weather forecasters had predicted there might be storms.

At the mention of her partner's name a flash of anguish spread across the woman's face, her fists clenched. She willed herself to relax. "Yes, I understand what you're saying. So what it it you're asking?"

"I don't know that I'm asking anything. I never thought you'd say it was okay, I just don't want to go behind your back."

"Like I did with you."

"I didn't say that," Seth retorted sharply.

"But you meant it," she barked.

"Don't tell me what I mean, I'm perfectly capable of expressing myself."

They both realized the conversation was getting out of hand, they thought to use the calming exercises they'd learned in counseling. She sipped at her wine, nothing was said for a few minutes.

Another crash of thunder, a burst of air disturbed the hemlocks. They could smell the squall was approaching.

It was Nancy who broke the silence. "You really don't think you're trying to get back at me?"

"Of course not. As I said, if I wanted to get even I would have done something years ago. I didn't, didn't even go looking for it. You know that."

She did know that. It had been one of the issues raised with the adviser, Seth had promised he wouldn't.

"Very well," she started, her cheeks tense, her eyes disheartened. "I can't stop you. I'm not even sure I want to. But I don't want you to do it. We've worked hard on fixing our marriage, we both refused to let it fail. If you have this affair now, who knows where it will lead?"

Seth accepted the opinion with composure, she continued. "Just a few things. I don't want you to lie to me, if you're going to be with her just don't tell me anything. And when it's over, tell me it's over. So I'll know, so I won't be guessing anymore."

"That's reasonable," Seth recognized.

She quaffed the last of her wine, stood. "Come to bed," she urged. "And we should cover the furniture, there's going to be quite a downpour."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Polite comments are always welcomed.