Obtuse

Long story short, I got my A and found a dear friend. Jason Sweeney was his name, and he was everything you could ask for in a friend, loyal, caring, and there if you needed something like several hours a week of math tutoring and help to prepare for the final exam. We remained friends for the next almost two years. We shared coffee in the student union and sandwiches on the quad. I knew he would be hungry because usually, he forgot to bring lunch and completely missed breakfast. I tried to repay a favor with a favor because I did not like to just take and give nothing back, but it was not always easy.

Jason attracted a certain type of female. I could go into detail but surface it to say the word geek is fully descriptive. He was as I said painfully shy and awkward around my gender. This had to be frustrating since getting him to ask for a date was clearly impossible. He would never have the courage to ask a girl out, and a girl could never succeed in conveying the appropriate message of availability to that obtuse mind of his. The geeky girls were his just for the asking, but he never saw it. So you could usually see them circle him like vultures waiting their chance.

They were not all bad looking, but they were girls in overlong, unfashionable skirts, or loose jeans— wearing out of style frames on bottle thick glasses. To them, poor shy Jason was the equivalent of a rock star with his keen mind and handsome face. They did not always take kindly to the A-lister sorority sister chatting intimately with their intended prey. I received my share of stares that promised payback on some future dark night.

One actually accosted me and told me, in no uncertain terms, to keep to my own kind. In my heart, I could not blame them. No girl like me would ever chase Jason, and they could certainly never attract the boys I dated.

I hate to admit that I let those boys regularity take me to their beds. I was no slut, but still far too sophisticated and experienced for sweet innocents such as Jason. So I backed off and only intervened if I thought my friend could use a hand.

Things would probably have gone no further, but once again, my father intervened. In the summer following my junior year, he called in a favor and secured me an unpaid but highly prized summer internship at a prestigious Wall Street law firm. I say Wall Street, but actually, they were on Madison Ave just north of the empire state building in a glass box of a skyscraper on the fifty-first, second, and third floors. The place was impressive. The people were high powered and sharp as tacks but fun to work with.

I fell in love with the place and the profession, and I just knew this was the life for me. I was only fetching coffee and the occasional lunch. I spent more time at the copy machine than anywhere else, but I was rubbing shoulders with men and women who regularly practiced before the highest Courts and some who had argued in the Supreme Court. I could only imagine how this would look on my law school application and, as always, I made friends. The men were no challenge a little flirting was all I needed. The women I expected more trouble with, but I was wrong. They embraced me like a sister.

It was very much still a man's profession back then, and the women, never to be referred to as girls, let me know they had all been where I was. They were there to lend a hand and offer advice. None more so than Claire Solo the only female senior partner, although there were several women, who were junior partners. She left me in no doubt that she was there to be my mentor in chief and would stand for no one else to fill that role.

Claire was in her fifties but still retained her awesome good looks, and she had great style. I looked up to her and soon was dressing in the conservative but sexy skirt suits she favored. She always wore some bling, A string of brilliant pearls or a pair of teardrop diamond earrings. She always had a bit of flair in evidence whether it was the Prada shoes or the Gucci bag.

Claire was never short of good advice.

"You got the looks, and the sensuality don't be afraid to use them, but make sure the boys' club knows you got a mind they need to fear."

"Never give anything away, but don't be afraid to take anything they offer except their randy selves."

"Be a lady, but keep a stiletto in your bag of tricks for when it is needed."

She was full of advice, but it was good advice, and she had climbed to the top of the greasy pole that is the only career ladder in a major national law firm.

Outside the office, I was sharing an apartment in a Brooklyn brownstone. It was on Henry Street just north of Atlantic Avenue with its middle-east markets and trendy restaurants. This was a discovery of my mother's, whose DeVoe cousins had two daughters renting there while they pretended to be volunteers with some charity. They were actually idling their summer away chasing men. There were lots of men that summer, but none worth more than one night and most didn't last through the night. I loved New York, and I loved working in a high-powered law firm. What people complain about was, in fact, the attraction, the long hours and the big egos. You had a sense that important things were happening. I was hooked, and things were perfect. I had stars in my eyes and didn't see the mud beneath my shoes until my last day as an intern.

On my last day, the women left early to take me out for drinks. It was a Friday, and I would be traveling home to Connecticut the following day on the train. We left at four o'clock and hit a small intimate bar called the Ivanhoe. It had a dark interior and was relatively quiet on a late-summer Friday. We had drinks and talked girl-talk and exchanged promises to keep in touch. By seven, only Claire and I were left. I had nowhere I needed to be, and no man whom I wanted to say goodbye to or ever see again. I was feeling pretty down on men after a summer of brazen uncaring studs. They had been fun, but truly worthless.

Claire was drinking a little too heavily. She became morose and began telling me about her two failed marriages, and the children she never had. By eight, she was crying into a martini glass and explaining how lonely life inevitably was unless you were willing to play second fiddle to some man. I saw the other side of Claire's life. I had been looking up to her all summer, and now I was feeling sorry for her. At nine, I poured her into a cab and took the subway to Brooklyn, a very disturbed young woman.

On the AMTRAC the next day, I pondered my fate. There was it seemed only a choice between unattractive options. Entrust your fate to some man or go it alone and lonely. How unfair. What was needed was a different kind of man, one fun to be with, who was without an ego that sucked the air out of life. I needed someone who never would see my career as a threat to him because he was a true friend. Someone you could count on for help and assistance. Someone who was loyal, caring, and there when you needed them. Someone who was good like Jason!

When the thought of Jason hit me, my heart began to race. I had never seen Jason as someone I could marry, but when I thought about it, I realized there could be no one better. I also realized that I had been in a relationship with Jason longer than any other male. Seeing this for the first time, I realized that life without Jason in it would be poor indeed. Then I realized, I had left him surrounded by girls just aching to get into his pants. It was like putting your diamond ring on the washroom sink. You were just asking to lose it. I had to get back to school fast and capture my man, a feat more easily said than done.

My parents were going to be driving me back to the University late Sunday with all my stuff for the coming term. Saturday night, I was a nervous wreck. I could not wait to get back to school, although I had no idea what I would do when I got there. Sunday morning, my mother announced that she, and I would be making the trip without my father. This was not our usual pattern. She had her car, a 1992 Volvo 960 wagon, packed with everything I was taking before I awoke on Sunday morning. The 960 was the newest Volvo model that year and a tank of a car that handled like a gazelle. It was totally dependable and could withstand just about anything. Mom was very proud of her car. She announced that I could drive to school, and she would drive home. Once she had me behind the wheel, the interrogation began. I do not to this day know how she knew, but somehow she did.

"Who is he?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The boy you are so anxious to get back to."

"Why must it be a boy?"

"Because it is. So spill."

"His name is Jason. He is very smart, and I just yesterday realized he is the one."

"The one?"

"Yes. He is special. I just never realized it until now. I have been so stupid."

My Mom smiled then she frowned.

"What will he think about what you have been doing all summer?"

"W-hat do y-ou mean."

"The DeVoe girls aren't just tramped. They are gossipy tramps. You are a big girl, and I know not a virgin for some time. You had a good time. So what will the 'ONE' think?"

I laughed. It was so funny. Jason did not even know we were together, and he certainly would never even consider what I did with my summer.

Mom just looked at me, and then I explained about Jason. How he didn't know that I wanted him,—and was way too shy to ask me out—and well was entirely obtuse.

She thought it over then said, "So he is a lot like this car, the thinking woman's version of transportation or, in this case, a husband."

I smiled.

Then she asked, "Do you love him?"

"I think so. I want to be with him. He is good to be around, not at all like the others."

"But he doesn't turn you on?"

"He's a Volvo, not a Ferrari."

"Some women are more turned on by the Volvo," she said

The conversation became more about how to get to Jason, and Mom had good ideas. The blind date was her idea, and it took me two full weeks to set it up. As I was going about it, I discovered that he boxed which I then thought was interesting. Rather quirky the way Jason is just so not mainstream. It's the kind of thing that makes him lovable, but not sexy.

Well, I set my traps, and I got my man. I was never sorry until just lately. My Jason was the best of men. He never let me down. He was the best husband and the greatest of fathers. No man could compare to him in either category as far as I was concerned. However, the marriage developed two problems. The first was my ambition, and the second was my sex drive.

I had my children early. I understood the problem a woman faced in a big firm. If you become pregnant while an associate, then you do not make partner. If you wait to become a partner, you have other difficulties, both medical and professional. So I had my girls while I was in law school. Jason, wonderful man that he was, took over the child-rearing. When I finally started work, I kept the family separate. My co-workers knew I was married, but they never saw the husband or knew of the kids.

Being married without a husband in immediate evidence made me fair game. Powerful men like married women subordinates. If you get seduced, you won't be telling for fear of the effect on your own marriage. At least, that is how it seemed to me my first year as I tried to fight off the advances. I did pretty well until late one evening in Jack Cardigan's office. He was a named partner and head of litigation. He had looks to die for. He was forty-five just a year older than I am now. Every woman in the place was crushing on him, including me.

We were working late on a trial preparation. At the start, there were three of us, Jack, his senior associate, Vincent, and myself as the junior member of the team. I had been doing a rotation through the firm departments until I was admitted to the Bar. I passed the exam the first time as did ever associate at our firm. The day after I took my oath, I was assigned to Cardigan's team. It was a prestigious placement.

Vincent disappeared about seven, but we continued to work on. At about 9:00, we took a break. We were basically done. The plan was to take the following day off to rest for the trial to start the day after that. Tonight was to work out all the rough edges, including running through Jack's opening statement which we had been doing for the past hour. I was in awe of this man. His presentation was superb.

"What does your husband think of these late nights?" Jack asked.

"Oh, in our five-year marriage, we have had lots of late nights," I said.

"What does he do?"

"He teaches."

"Let me guess that makes you the principal breadwinner."

"Yes, but that is the way I want it," I said maybe a bit defensive.

"No offense meant. I see you as a strong independent woman who knows what she wants and takes it," he said.

"Yes, I married a good man fully expecting him to put my career first, and he does without complaint," I said.

"I see. Well, you are certainly not the first ambitious woman that I have worked with," he said.

"All the women are ambitious around here," I said

"True, but they are not all beautiful, and some have less than understanding husbands," he said.

"Oh."

"Have I misjudged? I felt you had an attraction for me as I do for you. I can understand caution, as a relationship at work is always a problem, and with a senior partner can be career-killing.

"But I have never played my companions that way. I have an agreement with my wife. We are both discreet and happy in our affairs. I take pride in parting from my friends on good terms, for example, Karen Lane in estates. She and I lasted quite a while, and after it ended I pushed for her to make partner," he said, his eyes holding mine transfixed.

I knew about Karen Lane and several others. Firms like ours have no real secrets. The gossip mill works full time. Jack was I realized a cautious man. He was asking if I was willing, and if I saw any problems either personal for me or in our professional relationship. He was telling me not to worry about his wife or my career. From what I heard around the office, I could trust him. I wanted to trust him. I was getting wet just thinking about the two of us in bed together.

I got up from the chair I was seated in and came to him. He enfolded me in his arms. We kissed a hot passionate kiss.

"My husband is obtuse. The last thing I need to worry about is a problem with him. But how are we going to work this?" I asked.

"Leave that to me. Meet me at the Gideon Hotel tomorrow. I will have a suite for us to relax in," he said.

Sixteen years of infidelity began and ended at the Gideon Hotel. Jack was only the first. We had a great year of pure sex and fun. He was a great guy to be with. A better than average lover, he knew how to show you a good time. The problem came because he was a bit impatient, and I was careless.

I was on the pill for two years. My doctor and I decided that I needed a break. I was going off the pill and going to have an IUD put in. There was a delay in placing the IUD, and I was using a diaphragm briefly. No problem with Jason he was patient and happy for what I gave him. Jack was different demanding and in a hurry. Accidents happen, I guess, but when I found myself pregnant, I was all but certain it was not Jason's child.

Any paternity doubts were dispensed when a blond, light-eyed couple had a dark-haired brown-eyed daughter. No one said anything. Jason was blind as usual, or was he? I almost believed that he knew, but refused to accept the fact. When the little girl we called Tina became her daddy's favorite in spite of being our most difficult child, I thought he knows, and he is over compensating. However, as the years passed and the two became so close, I had to wonder. The difficult toddler became the teen angel.

My other girls hit puberty and became terrors. Tina became studious and responsible. The boys who chased her were pushed aside whenever her Daddy was on the scene. She would do anything for Jason. He only had to ask. The reverse was true in spades. I watched as he tried to hide how much he favored his Tina. I sometimes felt like the third party in a love triangle. However, that was before. What was my situation now?

Frank Patterson was the last in a long line of lovers. With the exception of Jack Cardigan, most had lasted only a few months. Jack and Frank made good bookends for my career of extramarital sex. Jack was my mentor. Our relationship blurred the lines of physical and professional. I became friends with his wife, Ann. They were thrilled by my pregnancy. They had no kids. Our daughter Tina is Jack's only child.

The Cardigans would come to our house just to see her. It was hard on them. I could see that. They wanted a child but had to accept the crumbs from Jason's table. They were good people they didn't let their desires ruin Tina's life. In recent years, I arranged for her to spend summers at their ranch in Montana. It was after her last summer vacation that Tina came home insisting on going away to the boarding school that Ann had once attended. The Cardigans insisted on paying a fact I kept from Jason.

Frank Patterson was pure sex. We met on a trip I made to the Chicago office. We went out to dinner with a group, including a client, but at the end of the evening, it was just Frank and me. There was never any question I would take him to my room. He was a few years my junior. He is a stud by anyone's definition. Good in bed and out of it. However, as a lawyer or a man, he leaves much to be desired. We played hard that first time. Soon we were inventing excuses for me to go to Chicago and for him to come to New York. It had lasted four months but had all but run its course.

Between Jack and Frank, I took who I pleased, never less than two new men a year, and most combined business with pleasure. If a man could help my career and was attractive, he would make the first cut. The second was often more difficult. It had to be no strings and no waves. I loved my husband and needed my reputation. My affairs were undoubtedly a source of gossip, and I'm sure my oldest daughters knew. I suspected that Jason knew and was playing dumb, but as I said, the man is obtuse. So either way, what changed today?

That lie this morning was stupid. Even the white-shoe law firms had started casual Fridays. Asking why I was dressing up on a Friday was a reasonable question. If I had taken the time to answer with a good lie, would things have been different? Did Jason act out of anger for being taken for granted, or was it possible, he had just discovered my years of infidelity?

I was startled when I saw him approach, as I kissed Frank goodbye. He looked so angry. Frank turned to protect me, but he went down in an eye blink. Frank was hurt. My first thought was to help the injured man. Jason walked off and left us. People tried to stop him. I'm glad no one else was hurt.

Self-preservation set in, I had the Gideon's doorman help get Frank into the cab we had hailed before the police could arrive. I rushed him to the hospital. He had lost consciousness briefly, and he was groggy and disorientated in the cab. As I helped him to the emergency room, he asked the question.

"What happened?" he said.

"You ran into my husband," I said.

"The wimp?" he asked.

"Why would you call him that?"

"Well, I mean considering..."

It struck me then what people must think of Jason. I had naively not realized that my actions would reflect on him. The emergency room was, thankfully, not very crowded. The doctor who looked at Frank had an x-ray taken and declared that nothing was broken. He suspected a concussion and advised that someone stay with Frank at least until morning to make sure he was alright. I put him up at a hotel near the airport. I rebooked his flight for morning and had a junior associate come stay with him. We told the associate he tripped getting into a cab. I'm sure he did not believe us.