February Sucks: Same Old Me (2of4)

"Here is where we stand: if Linda has her way, I'd just suck it all up like an obedient little cuckold. Everybody agrees that what she's done is perfectly fine, she's entitled to act on such a great opportunity, and the only problem is Jim's dumb little snit. Everything's all hunky-dory as soon as I get over my stupid stubborn man issues, Right? She gets away with having her little fling, and she'll remain proud of herself for the rest of her days. She will look back happily on this little adventure and continue to get off on it for years and years, while I'll live in the shadow of it for the rest of my FUCKING life.

"And what's that life going to look like? Just like it was before? No no no. Linda has now established her new status as a sexy, passionate, adventurous wild woman who only settles into domesticity when it suits her. I, on the other hand, have proven that I have no fucking balls and no self-respect. She's empowered and liberated. I'm disregarded and emasculated. People will try to tell me it's a 'one-off,' a unique opportunity, but there are LOTS of powerful, attractive, famous people out there. Where's the threshold? Linda's not a big football fan. She barely knew who the guy was, but he just swept her away, and there's THOUSANDS of guys who might do that. I will never get another decent night's sleep, wondering when's the next time she'll try to pull this kind of shit. I'll grow increasingly bitter and resentful and paranoid as the years go by while she's increasingly pleased with herself. Does that sound like fun to you? Me neither. Make no mistake: That future is Not. Fucking. Going. To. Fucking. Happen. Linda is NOT going to get her way. She does NOT get to have a pass on this. Am I clear?"

Helen looked a little green, but Gus was moving from nervousness to respect.

"Jim, it's not like that," began Helen. "You're not emasculated. You'll prove yourself to be a better man, a stronger man, for accepting this for your wife's sake and for your family. I understand, it's a burden on you, and yes, I know you must feel hurt, but withstanding it for the greater good, for the children, for preserving your marriage, that's an amazing demonstration of character."

"Helen. That is precisely the kind of thing people say to battered women whose husbands beat them up. You know, trying to get them not to make waves or stand up for themselves. Dominant figures convince them to stay with the program, because the family is more important than her well-being."

She looked as though I'd punched her in the stomach. Gus straightened up. Andy and Rose were beaming at me.

"Good for you, Jim." That was Andy.

"If standing up to her is the right thing for you to do," said Gus, holding his wife's hand, "Then you should do it. I agree. Linda doesn't get a pass. She's going to have to make this right somehow. What are you going to need from her?"

"Still trying to figure that out. That's why I need the time and the space. Maybe there's nothing she can do to make it right. I don't want to cheat on her to get even. That would make me what she is, and that's disgusting. And even if she agreed to let me, we still wouldn't be even. I never agreed to her little romp. I wasn't consulted. To make us truly 'even,' I'd have to do it right in front of her face, over her objections, while she screams and cries and has YOU guys holding her back and mocking her and preventing her from stopping me."

They all had the decency to look a little ashamed. Lynn had wandered over behind me to take our orders and had heard most of that.

"Jeez, Jim. Is that what happened? Sorry. Don't mean to eavesdrop. I could tell something was up."

"Sorry, Lynn. Yeah. Linda left me for Marc LaValliere on Friday night. Leap Night. We were out for a couples' date night along with these guys, and she fucking abandoned me. Ditched me and left word with her friend that she wouldn't be back until sometime the next day."

"She didn't abandon you, Jim, she said..."

"STOP. Stop it, Helen. Yes, she fucking did. That was abandonment. Don't tell me it wasn't. I was THERE, remember? You DON'T get to tell me how I'm allowed to feel about it."

Gus was still holding his wife's hand, and it looked like he was squeezing it pretty firmly while fixing her with a 'Don't Go There, Honey' look.

"God, that's awful. I can't believe it."

"I can't believe it, either, Lynn. That's the damnedest part. I almost DON'T believe it, but she did it right in front of me and everyone, and now Linda is going to try to leverage that inherent disbelief into convincing me to forget about it or pretend it never happened."

"Geez, Jim, that's... God, I'm sorry."

"Thank you. I'm in process. That's part of what this little lunch meeting is about."

"Right. Well. I, uh. Never mind. Are you guys ready to order?"

We were. We did. Lynn never took her eyes off me and I felt sympathy rather than pity. There was something more she wanted to say, but she was keeping it to herself. She left to put our orders in and I returned to the topic at hand.

"Okay. Next. I wanted to talk to you guys because there's something specific I wanted to get some perspective on. Two things, actually. I talked with Dave yesterday. I already told Andy and Rose a little about that. Dave and I spent quite a while talking, actually. Now, I understand that it may not have been the most healthy conversation I've had. We were both way, way down in the dumps about our wives and I'm not going to pretend that we haven't been pessimistic. That's why I want a reality check with you guys. Okay?"

There was a general assent and Gus said "What is it, Jim?"

"Okay. Let's say that Linda and Dee had pulled out flaming torches and performed a juggling routine in the middle of the dance floor. They're perfectly coordinated. Their timing doesn't miss a beat. All of us at the table stare at them slack-jawed about how smooth it is, how effortless. Got it? Now. They sit back down and claim that this was purely spontaneous. They say it's no big thing, they've never practiced, nothing like this has ever happened before, and they say they're not even sure where the torches came from. Does anybody believe them?"

Comprehension dawned on Gus's face. "You and Dave think they might have done this before."

I nodded. "Not this precise thing, but given each other the signal? Lied for each other and covered for each other? Almost certainly. We know they WOULD, because they did. We know they CAN, because they did. And we've seen firsthand that they DO, because they did. They did it easily and comfortably, like they do it every day. They had mountains of self-assurance and self-confidence about it. So why would we imagine that this is the first time? They must have had a few opportunities over the years, and they sure as shit wouldn't have told us if they had. This kind of thing would get filed under 'Things our dumb husbands don't need to know because it would only upset them.' That's what Dee said when she told me she'd fuck the football player- she asked me not to tell Dave.

Helen and Rose were completely still and silent. I was calling the bluff. Time to lay down your cards, ladies.

"Helen. Rose. You are my Friends. You are Partners in loving marriages and your husbands are right here. For the sake of all our marriages, I'm respectfully asking you to break the seal of silence mandated by the International Sisterhood of 'Just Us Girls.' Do you know of anything like this that's happened in the past? Before you answer, let me just say that Dave is completely convinced that it HAS happened and he won't be persuaded otherwise. In his heart, he knows for sure that Dee is a cheater. There's no use in pretending for his sake. We all know that Linda is a cheater, so there's no use pretending for my sake either. She may or may not have done this kind of thing before, but it doesn't matter now. The Line Has Been Crossed. How many times it's been crossed just means I'm even more of a fool. But it was all too easy for them, and the only way they could be So Fucking Certain this would be no big deal is because it hasn't been a big deal so far. They just slipped up and did it in front of us this time."

Helen was openly horrified. Rose just looked kind of sad.

"You both knew what was going on before your husbands did," I continued. "Dave filled me in on the conversation at the table while Dee had me cornered at the bar. You were not surprised by the juggling act. You understood what was happening as it happened. So now it's time to spill. What went down, and when has this happened before?"

"I'll start," said Rose, while Helen looked like she was trying to kick her friend under the table. "I'm not a fan of gossip, okay? I don't want to talk about anybody's business that's none of mine. I wouldn't talk about yours either, Jim. But I'm not going to betray any specific confidence by admitting that girls participate in the same kind of 'locker room talk' that boys do. Most of it is bluster and bullshit, okay? We talk game. We arrange signals 'just in case' and play 'what would you do if...?' games. We talk about which guys are cute and ask 'who would you fuck?' We compare who's had the best experiences in bed, especially who's the best at going down on us. Yes, we also talk about who's got the best dick, but that means a lot less than you'd think, male insecurities aside. I'm being PERFECTLY honest here, it's all about what you do with it and how you make us feel. Sometimes, we talk about how to avoid queefing when we're having sex, or else we trade advice about how to queef more if we think it's funny."

Helen cracked up a bit. "Girl, you're going to lose your membership card for all that."

"Most importantly, though, and most shamefully, we brag about what we keep from our husbands. How we lie and keep secrets." Rose wasn't looking at Andy, or at me. She was staring at a blank space three inches above the table. "I think every woman has a file of 'what my husband doesn't need to know,' and now that I'm thinking about it, I'm sure every man has one like that about his wife, too. Maybe not at first, when love is new and exciting, but eventually, these things just happen and accumulate over the years, even if nobody's ever actually done anything to be ashamed of."

"I can admit that," said Helen. "I'm not proud of it, but I don't think you'd be surprised that it happens that way, Jim. Yes, there's a lot of idle talk in our little group, but that's ALL there's been, at least as far as I know. There's nothing really scandalous. I don't know of any specific instance of anybody actually cheating or covering for anybody else, including Dee and Linda. Not until Friday night. At least, not that I know about."

"Dee and Linda have kind of buddied up," said Rose. "Those two talk about things with each other that they don't talk about with us. So the answer is that we don't know. You're not crazy. It's not an unreasonable thing to think. But we can't honestly say so either way. We just recognized enough of the secret girl-language that we could see what was happening. That's all. I promise."

"What about Jane?" I looked back and forth at the two women pointedly. "She seemed to know a lot more about it than either of you. And the way Phil reacted, I'm sure there's some kind of history there."

That made them quiet.

"All right," said Rose, while Helen's eyes got wide. "That's venturing into the territory of talking about things that aren't my business. You're not wrong, but I don't know the whole story. I don't even know much of it. I'd be wrong to say anything even if I did. You'll have to ask Jane and Phil if you want to know more. The only thing I can say is that I understand why there's a reason they were fighting that night. That's all. I'm thinking of Phil as my friend as well as Jane. I'm not covering for either of them, I'm just respecting their boundaries. So, don't ask me anything else about that. Please."

I eyed her warily. She'd been good to me so far. She'd been the best of them.

"Okay, Rosie. I won't ask you. I will ask them."

She relaxed.

"I will ask this, though, of both of you. This is the second thing I want to know: Is this the deal, like for all women? A sufficiently desirable piece of beefcake wanders in, he's wealthy, famous, smart, funny, amazing physique, ginormous cock, he smells of leather and rich mahogany, WHATEVER the fuck it is that does it for you, and WHAM, to hell with your husband. You're magically compelled to run off with New Asshole. Is that how it works? Is that how you're wired? I have to ask. Because SOMETHING like that happened on Friday, and I really have to wonder just how close to the edge us regular old husbands are. A Chiseled Greek God walks into a bar and walks back out with you on each arm, leaving Gus and Andy in the dust? Is that the deal?"

"NO!"

"Kinda."

"ROSE!"

"Helen, stop. That is precisely the kind of thing we talk about when it's 'just us girls,' and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. This is a time for honesty, okay? Jim got slapped in the face with it and he deserves better. I'm not going to lie to him, and I'm not going to lie to Andy, either. Yes. We giggle and laugh and brag about that exact scenario. We joke about what sluts we really are underneath our respectable married lady facades. Busy wives and mothers fantasize about escaping from our lives and having wild, reckless sexual adventures with glamorous strangers. We're completely crude about it, and yes, I think it's a VERY common attitude. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it's just that- FANTASY. We're all talk, and I think that's understood. But I guess we're not ALL all-talk. I'm going to have to revise that ninety-nine percent estimate, because in our little group, it looks like we're officially down to eighty percent."

"Or sixty, if Dee's Down To Bang." I added. "Or forty, depending on what I learn about Jane."

"God. Jim. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Andy," Rose turned to her husband, clinging to his forearm on the table, "I admit, I've participated in that kind of braggadocio. I'm ashamed to say so, but I have. For me, that's all it ever was. I never meant a word of it. I swear. There was a kind of camaraderie about it, that's all. If it ever came down to actually doing anything, I could never. Not really. Not even for one night. Not even for one minute. Not even if I knew for certain that you'd never find out. I'd know. I'd have to live with myself, and I'd always be torn up with guilt. It would never be worth it. Never. I promise." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "God. When I think of Jim, the look on his face... and Dave, how he stormed off, and Phil... If I ever even come close to doing anything like that to you, I couldn't bear to live with it. None of the bragging we've done ever took the consequences seriously. I love you too much to do anything that would hurt you like that. Anything that would compromise our marriage. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I won't."

She was openly weeping. It was either a beautiful performance, or she meant it. Maybe it was both.

"Gus," said Helen. "Honey. She's right. Women talk like that sometimes. I'm sure men do, too, so you probably know how it is. You see a pretty young thing with nice boobs or a great ass, and you say 'I'd sure like to have me some of that' and all the boys hoot and holler or whatever. That's a thing. Everybody does it. That's all it is. At least, that's all it HAS been, for me."

"Up until now, you mean." He said. He looked worried.

"Up until Ever. I've never done anything like that for real. Never. Never. And I won't. Not really. This has been... God, I don't know what got into Linda. I never thought she'd really... well. I guess we were all carried away. I couldn't believe it was really happening. I felt like I was outside myself, watching. It was exciting, I admit, up to a point, but then, God." Helen turned to me. "Jim. Jesus. I didn't realize. I didn't know. I mean, yes, I knew, in the abstract, but it didn't really hit me. She really fucked up, didn't she? I mean, REALLY fucked up."

"She did." I nodded. "I don't see how I can be married to a person who would do that. I feel like I never even knew who she's been this whole time. Maybe I was stupid, maybe I was blind. Maybe I had the wrong expectations about marriage. Maybe it's asking too much of ANY woman not to run off and fuck Adonis when he shows up. Maybe the whole idea of marriage is complete bullshit. I don't know. I only know that I'm not going to just buck up and get over it like a good little chump."

Lynn arrived with our food and passed it around without her usual exuberance. I looked at her as she was setting my plate down as if I was asking her a question. "Later" she mouthed silently and I nodded once. Andy noticed.

We ate awkwardly. It was an excuse not to say anything for a while. The women seemed to be recalculating the situation. The men were uneasy with how close they'd come to the same thing happening to them. Maybe they were thinking it still might.

"She really loves you, you know," said Gus, breaking the pause. I said nothing. It's a conversational trick. You can make people talk more and reveal themselves by giving them an uncomfortable silence. Most people don't think to do that because we're too concerned with making ourselves heard. So I just looked around the table.

"She does," said Andy. There was eager assent from Rosie and Helen, too. I stayed quiet.

"She would never have done this if she wasn't absolutely secure in her relationship with you, Jim." That was Helen. "She really believes in you and your marriage. If she thought it was a threat, she couldn't have. She wouldn't risk it. She was certain there'd be no risk."

The silent treatment was working. The more seconds passed since she said that shit, the less believable it sounded.

"Jim. Say something." Rosie looked at me imploringly.

I sighed. Time to share some of my preliminary work, I guess.

"Look, guys. I know that Linda loves me. I have no doubt about that. She loves me in her own fashion, anyway, which apparently includes... whatever the fuck she thinks this is. And I love her, too. You can't make ten years together just vanish in the blink of an eye, but she damn sure tried, didn't she? Anyway, Love is not the issue here."

I held my left hand out, palm up, like I had a handful of water.

"On the one hand, there's Love."

I held out my right hand the same way.

"On the other hand, there's what you DO with that love. How you behave. What you promise. What you're willing to take on, and what you're NOT willing to take on. You guys understand?

"Love is just a feeling." I wagged my left hand in a little circle. "All by itself, it doesn't mean anything. It doesn't DO anything. It isn't right or wrong. It just is. But combine it with what you do..."

I clapped my hands together with a big SMACK.

"That's what's real. That's what counts. Sometimes you need to follow your heart, regardless of the consequences. And sometimes you SHOULDN'T when you know it's a bad idea.

"It is possible to love someone who's no damn good. People do it all the time. Hearts get broken and lives get destroyed. Sometimes you need to dissociate from toxic people who are bad for you. Sometimes you need to push someone away even though you love them, if you're going to survive. This isn't about how much Linda loves me or how much I love her. This is about how much ABUSE I'm expected to absorb."

At the sound of that word, they all cringed. Helen started to say something, then thought better of it.

"Yes, I said it. ABUSE. Right now, I'm a survivor of Abuse, and that's a hard thing for me to accept or admit, but I can't deny the truth of it. Let's say Linda lost control of herself, had a psychotic episode, and stabbed me in the stomach with a steak knife. I got hurt, but I survived. So, no harm done, right? I can get over it. I can recover. When you guys tell me that I owe it to her and the children to forgive this little incident because I love her and I'm a good person, I'd have to ignore the fact that she's fucking dangerous."