If You Can't Beat Them

This is one of those conversation stories that so many writers put out. I always wondered if I could do a dialogue heavy short story and make it satisfy the reader. I'm not sure if I succeeded. I'm sure you'll let me know. Thanks for reading.

*****

My wife finished her glass of wine and poured a second glass, as we sat on our deck enjoying a nice spring evening. I blew out a large puff of cool smoke and watched it flitter away in the breeze.

"I'm not going to Chicago next month, Joe."

I looked at her in surprise. She had taken two shopping trips to Chicago every year for the last ten years. One around Memorial Day and another the weekend after Thanksgiving. She liked to spend my money on the Magnificent Mile, or wherever else the wannabe trendy women shopped those days.

"Oh, no? Why is that?" I asked.

She looked away and said, "I just don't feel like it. With the kids out of the house at college, I thought we might take a trip together."

I shrugged my shoulders. "That's nice, Chelsea, but I've already booked my golf trip to South Carolina." I always took a golf trip somewhere when she went shopping to Chicago.

The truth was, I knew her trips to Chicago weren't all about shopping. She had a lover who took her twice a year with shopping as the pretense for the trip. She was completely faithful to me the rest of the year. Believe me, I checked thoroughly.

I shouldn't have been surprised that she wasn't going that year. Her lover died in a botched robbery attempt at his jewelry store a month before. The idiot should have just let the guy take what he wanted and lived to see the rest of his life. The moron thought he could pull a gun and kill the robber. Nope. The good guy with a gun took a bullet in the head before he fired a shot at the bad guy with a gun. He wasn't that good of a guy. He was screwing my wife, after all.

"Well, maybe you could cancel," she asked.

I shook my head negatively.

"I'll come along then?" she countered.

"I don't think my golf partner would like that," I answered.

"Who are you going with?" She asked and the realization hit her that she never asked with whom I travelled on my trips.

It was time. I decided I'd end the charade she began with her lover so many years before.

"Erin."

She dropped her glass and thankfully she used plastic wine glasses when we drank outside. It didn't stop from spilling the expensive Chardonnay onto the table.

"Erin?" She whispered. "My best friend Erin?"

I nodded and took another puff of my cigar.

A tear fell down her cheek and she asked, "How long has she been going on your trips with you?"

I sighed, "Since the first one."

She tried to hide her emotions yet failed miserably. "Are you having an affair with her?"

"No, not an affair," I admitted. "We only get together twice a year. We keep each other company while you go to Chicago with her husband."

Her tears increased in volume, and she was fighting the sobs. It didn't stop her hands from shaking as she tried to pour more wine. I took the bottle and poured for her.

"You knew from the beginning?" She asked.

"Yes," I nodded and took a deep breath. I should have been ready for the conversation, but I thought she would try to hide her cheating by still going on the trip. Not going the very next trip after her lover died was a big red flag.

"But, I'm not going anymore," she begged.

"No, and Erin I discussed not going. In fact, we discussed it at Alan's funeral. I think it was when you had your sobbing fit at his coffin. When you pounded your fist on the coffin and cried out 'why, God, why,' we decided to keep our plans."

"I don't remember doing that."

I shrugged. "You probably don't remember much of the day at all. It's not surprising, with the bottle of wine you finished before we left the house, the four martinis you had at the luncheon, and the however many you had at home after, you passed out pretty early."

"I didn't mean to disrespect you."

I laughed. "Seriously? Forget the funeral actions. You fuck the husband of your best friend for a decade but didn't mean to disrespect me. You're delusional."

"How did you find out?" She asked. I noticed she hadn't said she was sorry nor was she begging for my forgiveness.

"Oh, that was easy. He told her there was a diamond show in Chicago he was attending that first time. It was a fluke, really, that she mentioned to me that he was going to be out of town. I'm not sure if you remember, but we were hosting them for a barbecue. You were getting more drinks and he went to the bathroom. Erin was just making small talk with me."

My wife shook her head in disbelief.

"Yep, as soon as she said he was going to Chicago, I told her about your shopping trip to Chicago. She was surprised that you didn't invite her to tag along, and we knew at that moment why you didn't."

"I thought we hid it so well. Alan travelled so often..."

I shrugged. "No, you were actually quite sloppy about it. You should have picked a place that actually had a diamond show. And thinking you could go on a trip the same weekend as her husband twice a year, every year, and not set off alarms in our heads was just dumb."

"You never said anything. We thought we were in the clear."

"That's just your arrogance and disrespect talking. You nor Alan bothered to ask who Erin and I were going on our trips with. It shocked us, really. You cared so little, you never wondered what your stupid spouses were up to."

"That's not true," she said softly. "We talked about what you were doing. It never occurred to us that you would be going away together."

"It's funny, Chels. We thought we were caught three years ago."

"Your flights were delayed," she frowned.

I nodded.

She added, "We stayed the extra day and it never clicked that you were both delayed overnight due to a snowstorm."

"Would you believe we were worried and almost cancelled the Memorial Day trip the following year? You and Alan acted as if nothing happened and continued with your plans as usual."

"What now, Joe?"

"Good question. Honestly, after you embarrassed me at the funeral, I've been preparing for divorce."

She gasped.

"Oh, don't act so surprised, loving wife. Erin and I put up with your liaisons because we comforted each other while you broke your vows. I never imagined that you'd fallen in love with, that, that piece of shit."

"I didn't at first. I'm so sorry." She broke down into sobs and rushed into the house.

I texted Erin, "It's out in the open."

Her reply was immediate, "I'm waiting."

I put the phone in my pocket, set the cigar on the ashtray and let out a deep breath. Chelsea wasn't the only one who fell in love with their proxy spouse. It was time to begin the rest of my life and Chelsea wasn't in it.