Mercenary

I also estimated him to be in his late twenties; about my age, possibly younger. They also seemed oblivious to those around them. They probably had come in alone. These pictures also showed that they appeared unconcerned with being seen.

Had they been sleeping together? Oh God. Then it hit me, a pain in my stomach consistent with a kick. I grimaced from the imaginary blow as I pushed away from the table. I grew slightly light-headed. There was a rushing noise in my ears.

Tim must have noticed immediately.

"Peter? Peter? Are you alright?"

His voice brought me back. I didn't want to keep him here since I knew it must have been very uncomfortable for him. I also wanted to be alone with my thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Do you still have the email with the pictures?"

"Sure. I couldn't delete them before we met."

"Can you send them to me? Here's my personal email address", I said as I scribbled on notepad. "Oh, and before I forget..." I reached in my pocket and withdrew thirty dollars (my clothes at the cleaners would wait).

"Here."

"I don't want to take your money. I...I wouldn't feel right."

"Nonsense, you need the money, I wouldn't feel right if you didn't take it. You paid twenty plus the cost of printing these...thirty should cover it."

He must have thought better than to argue with me so he took the cash, grabbed his bag and made for the door.

"I've got to get to work. My shift starts in an hour."

I nodded at him. I would have given him a lift but Paige had our car. I offered my hand instead as he reached the door.

"I owe you. Thank you."

We shook, he was off, and I was left to my own thoughts...and fears. Tim had said these were taken last Monday. I couldn't recall much of any anything of significance a week ago with my wife. I was too concerned with the job at the time. I tried to concentrate on that day a week ago.

Paige had come home after I was in bed that Monday night, so we did not speak to one another until the morning. That Tuesday morning she told me she had had a study group the previous evening. The session had supposedly lasted until almost midnight. She was exhausted. I bought it. There was no reason to doubt her; she was nervous about returning to school and would study 24-7 if she could.

I looked over the pictures again. How could she do this? When did she think it was OK to cheat on me? And how long had this been going on? Was she ever going to tell me? Was she serious with this guy?

Then I recalled that while we missed each other last Monday night, last Tuesday night she came home an hour after I arrived. Tuesday was my night for literacy tutoring at the high school. I usually made it home about 9pm. Paige wasn't back till after 10pm, and for some reason she looked rushed as she came in the door, and seemed slightly annoyed with my presence.

Her mood turned very affectionate right before bed in an odd contrast to her arrival. We did have sex that night and she seemed primed from the moment we entered the bedroom; it was me who claimed exhaustion when we finished. If Paige were having an affair she hid her activities well. I would not have guessed anything was wrong based upon her actions.

The rest of last week was uneventful. What phone calls I remember being answered were mostly for her, and those were either from her sister Dana or her mother. The other calls I recalled were solicitations of various sorts. Of course she could have been on the phone while I was out but, those windows of opportunity were very thin. I thought of what else we did during that week.

We went out to dinner Friday night, visited with her folks on Saturday, no discord, and no arguments, no love making though; that activity was already catalogued once in the week. Our sex life had been sporadic for over a year now. I attributed that to the discussions we'd had about starting a family, and of course to Paige's anxiety about returning to school.

The plan on having children was on hold while Paige sought her degree. Hell, if we had them it would be at least four years out. I certainly had capitulated on that issue. Three years ago I started bringing up the subject, months later Paige broke the news about wanting to return to school. I let my desire for a family take a back seat. Children! What was I thinking? We were not likely going to have any children, not together anyway, certainly not if these pictures meant what they conveyed.

Then again, perhaps I was overreacting. I didn't know if the pictures reflected an ongoing relationship or nothing more than a passing fling. It was only a kiss. She might not have actually slept with this guy. Perhaps the relationship was new. The pictures looked bad but we might still be able to get past this.

I would have to trust that Paige would be honest about their relationship. If I couldn't trust her then my options were unthinkable. The problem was I didn't know what I wanted to do if she had cheated on me. I used to think that adultery meant an immediate end to a marriage. But that was for other people. Now that it was me pondering the same result it left a bad taste in my mouth.

There was another problem. I knew something from these pictures that no one else would know. My wife, while affectionate at times, was not one prone to kissing. In fact, except for our courtship she rarely kissed me with an open mouth. Paige wasn't very orally oriented. She used to call it "trading spit". This was another of her idiosyncrasies that I adjusted to in our marriage.

Now she was caught sucking face with some stranger. Was he forcing himself on her? It didn't appear so. The more I thought about it the angrier I became. I was paralyzed. One second I wanted to be rid of her, the next, to reclaim her as my wife.

I understood that having a spouse in graduate school could be a risky proposition. Many marriages undergo strains when one spouse is so engaged and the other bears most of the responsibilities of the family. We had been counseled on this possibility by friends who had made that commitment. I expected her to be 'working' 50-60 hours a week on class work and possibly another 20 in study groups.

This was a challenge we had talked about, that we had prepared for. Paige had given me many assurances that she would talk through whatever problems that were likely to arise. Since it was the end of September I kept thinking that it was way too soon for us to be experiencing problems, and certainly not problems of this kind.

I could confront her with these pictures, but I had no other specifics supporting the existence of another relationship. Furthermore, she would laugh if I brought up the kiss. Even so, I knew I needed to talk with her. If I could look her in the eyes I would ferret out the truth. But something told me that might be premature; I would feel more secure in that discussion if I knew details about both of them first. Of course in the back of my mind it bothered me that I didn't know she'd been unhappy with me to begin with.

I felt fatigued. I would have done anything for Paige and often acceded to her wishes. Our entire marriage now seemed to have been one misplaced accommodation by me after another. The last three years in particular had confirmed my dedication to her.

She wanted a larger apartment so we moved...twice. She thought my old Chevy wasn't an "appropriate" car for us so we traded up for a Saab. Teaching was beginning to bore her, she wanted to return to school - I agreed to support us and help pay her tuition. Then she needed a car to get back and forth to class, so I gave her the Saab while I rode the bus or walked.

It was her change in career that now seemed most troubling. I was her number one supporter. When she hinted at wanting to get an MBA I encouraged her, going so far as to pay for her tutoring for the grad admissions exams. I even spent many evenings prepping her myself. In fact, whenever her nerve faltered I was there to motivate her and strengthen her resolve.

I devoted two and a half years of saving in order to have reasonable funds for her tuition. Even then I still made several expensive purchases for the apartment that she had deemed necessary for us as a couple.

As I recounted each sacrifice I realized I was exaggerating her influence. I couldn't blame her entirely for my attitude. She didn't nag me for those things I gave to her; she was much more subtle in her desires. It was me. I simply went along with her where she indicated preferences or desires for things.

She was my wife, so doing things to make her happy were actions I undertook gladly. There was no obvious coercion involved. As her husband I assumed some measure of responsibility for her happiness. The realization that I might have been a compliant patsy however, only made me feel worse.

Relationships are never 50-50. At any given time one party is more giving than the other. Paige and I were not in a contest, we were in a relationship, or at least I was. But then again, that calculus itself was wrong. Relationships really should be 100-100. I was giving my all, evidently she was not. Now all my expressions of love for her were tainted. I looked more and more like someone who was being played for a fool; yet it wasn't my pride that was hurt but my heart.

My heart ached for so many dreams I was losing because of her, dreams that she supposedly shared. Did Paige see my acceding to her wishes as a weakness? Was my approach to our marriage a contributing factor in her betrayal? I hoped not. If she had set out to use me I would have had no defense. I loved her. I would have done the same things again if presented with the same situations. You have to trust your loved ones. That's a given.

I hated violence, but at that moment I could have killed both Paige and her boyfriend. I regained control when I thought of the consequences. My life would be over if it came to such a decision. They were just not worth it, but the momentary thoughts of hurting them did wonders in shoring up the pain.

All I had were questions. I had no firm answers. Nothing fit with the circumstances. I couldn't reconcile those pictures with what I knew of my wife. They were not her. My questions were taking me in circles. By the time I looked up it was 5:30pm (a half an hour after quitting time). The door to the room opened and Noelle entered.

I barely acknowledged her. I let the pictures stay as they were, lined up across the table. I should have moved them but I wasn't thinking about hiding my problem from her. This was an act of selfishness that I regretted moments later. The photos were too tempting a target. She took a post behind me, surveying the scenes of my wife's liaison.

Precious minutes went by in silence before I heard her draw a deep breath.

"C'mon, let's get out of here", she said with authority. "My mother is cooking this evening. There is always room for one more at the table."

I turned to see her face. I don't know how I looked to her, but she flinched. I softened and spoke for the first time. My voice was probably lower than intended.

"I suddenly don't have any plans this evening. Your offer sounds good to me."

With Noelle leading we made our way out the building and into the underground concourse that webbed its way through that part of town. A couple minutes later we were at the parking garage, and then in her car.

I don't recall most of the trip to that point since not a word was spoken until we reached her car and I took my place in the passengers' seat.

"You know you don't have to do this? I'm probably going to be lousy company this evening ", I warned her.

"Don't worry, my mother's cooking will perk you right up, and if that doesn't work Mom won't let you feel bad about yourself."

"So your mother comes over to cook for you?" I said this needing to change the subject.

"Oh, that's right. You haven't met her. She's been living with me for the past year and a half."

I knew that Noelle's mother was a widow like herself. It made sense that they might find comfort and support with one another.

"Really? I missed her at Tim's going away dinner. But I've been at your house a number of times over the last 18 months. I never saw her."

"Well as for Tim's party, she and my aunt were on a cruise that week thank God. I pity the captain though. Having mom on a ship was probably an experience he'll never forget. You've got to ask her to show you the pictures. The other times she was out. Mom normally makes herself scarce when I'm entertaining."

I smiled and that statement. Noelle however, was looking a little shy after having uttered those words. An awkward silence was about to descend.

"It's OK. Please don't tip toe around me this evening."

A few minutes later we were pulling into her townhouse garage. Noelle lived in the Fairmont section of city near the Art Museum circle. Her house was one of the more modern 3 story town houses complete with garage, terrace and split level balcony off the studio guest room.

This was my fourth or fifth time in her home this year, and during every visit I felt as if the layout and décor were what I would have chosen. She had given me a tour of the place a couple of years ago. The entire house had a warm and cozy feeling with large windows, abundant light from the outside and warm colors inside. Each room welcomed its guests.

Just being here was like stepping out of the drama of my marriage into another world. Now aside from the visual effects there was a most enticing aroma making its way from the kitchen. My host excused herself and disappeared up the stairs after showing me into the main living room.

Just as I took my seat on the sofa, a woman approached from the rear of the house. I stood to greet her. I judged her to in her to be in her mid-forties, certainly too young to be her mother. She was a few inches shorter than Noelle and while she was relatively petite, she was curvier. However, that million dollar dimpled smile left little doubt that she was indeed Noelle's mother.

You could see where Noelle obtained her good looks. There were the same serious eyes and her hair had the similar jet black sheen of her daughter's; but that's where the visual similarities ended. Her mother's dress was much more form fitting and she walked suggesting that she was very comfortable in her body. I thought this augured well for Noelle when she grew older.

Even though this woman was probably twenty years or more my senior I still found her presence to be very arousing. I know I blushed upon realizing this. I never had the occasion to ogle a mother of a friend since becoming an adult. This was made more embarrassing since she seemed to project sensuality without conscious effort. There wasn't one thing about her; it was the entire way she presented herself.

Now those appealing curves were coming my way in a walk that was intensely feline. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at me. Her smile was bright, and her face was downright pretty. Given my circumstances this should have been the last thing on my mind, but this woman short circuited my prior descent into self-pity and despair.

"Mrs. DiStefano?" I said rising and extending my hand, only to be grabbed in a warm full body embrace and then released. I tried to take it well, but I was internally shaken by that greeting.

"Actually my name is Ruggerio, DiStefano is Noelle's married name, but please call me Muriel. Welcome to our home. You must be Peter." The voice matched the face - melodic and sultry.

"Yes ma'am" I responded with a raised eyebrow, surprised that this woman recognized me. She must have picked up on the implied question because she was very quick to respond.

"Noelle mentioned you volunteering with her on the adult literacy project. I also remember you from the photos she took of your dinner last month. You're a very popular subject around here. By the way, are you still very ticklish?" The last sentence was punctuated with a wink.

I had to laugh at that question. Back when I was a trainee and Noelle was my mentor we once played a game where we each had to tell the other something about ourselves that was known only to a few people. This was an exercise designed to help bond the trainee and mentor. Well, I told Noelle that I was very ticklish. That this would come up in conversation with her mother five years later came as quite a surprise.

The conversation took off from there with Mrs. Ruggerio being a very charming companion. Her quick wit and easy laughter were contagious. Noelle was right; in just a few minutes I had temporarily forgotten my marital concerns and was deeply engrossed in her mother's cruise adventures.

What a vivacious and delightful lady. Her enthusiasm was almost childlike. She made me feel as if I were on the ship with her experiencing the same sights and joys. When Noelle returned to sit next to me I barely noticed her, so taken was I with her mother.

The fact that Noelle had exchanged her business suit for a more casual blouse and flowing skirt made it to my brain only after we had finished dinner and were once again alone ( her mother having retreated to the kitchen to make coffee for us).

"How do you feel now?" Noelle asked as we were again seated side by side.

"I'm much better thank you. You were right about your Mother. She has a way about her. It's a shame we can't hire her to liven up some of our branch meetings."

Noelle seemed amused at that comment, but she decided to move on with our topic for the evening. Her look turned serious as she moved the conversation to my problem.

"Peter, do you want to talk about it? If not, that's fine with me. We don't have to."

I was much calmer now, almost detached from the turbulence of emotions that held me hostage just hours ago. "I do want to talk. I need to."

I then explained about the call from Tim and how he came to have the photographs. There wasn't much to tell. My wife was apparently cheating on me.

"So you don't know this man?"

"No. That's only one of the many things I don't know. Hell, until those photos I never thought that Paige would do such thing. It never entered my mind."

"The pictures look bad Peter. We both know that. But they are pictures. They don't tell the full story and they can be subject to misinterpretation. So before you do something you might regret later, you need to talk with Paige, but not until you have control of yourself and can address her calmly."

"Actually I'm not in the mood to talk with her at this point." I suddenly felt exhausted from the brief discussion we were having.

"You'll be under control when you see her tonight won't you? If you have even the slightest doubt, then you need to sleep somewhere else. Your dad lives fairly close by doesn't he?"

That question brought me back to full alertness. I had dealt with that question. Harming Paige was no longer even remotely part of my thinking. I quickly assured Noelle of that fact. "No, I need to be home. She's not in any danger, not from me. I wouldn't hurt her. I only want some answers. I'm surprised that you could ask me that question though."

"I've always known you to be very calm, outwardly at least. But this is a situation that will test your self-control, so I had to ask. When I walked in on you this afternoon I had a feeling. It's probably nothing; anyway you will get the answers you need soon enough." Noelle shifted slightly in her seat and lowered her voice. "What I'm going to ask you now is going to sound strange. Just hear me out first before you answer."

"What if you knew everything about the relationship, if indeed there is one between them, and you knew all about the circumstances? Is there some explanation you could accept that might allow you to forgive her?"

"Forgive?" The very idea repulsed me. My anger was barely contained below the surface when I'd explained the story behind the pictures. Now Noelle was unintentionally bringing that monster back. The tension probably showed on my face and neck.