Renaissance Faire Ch. 05

This is chapter 5 in a 7 part series. It will not make sense without reading the previous chapters.

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Chapter 5 - The Opera of Our lives

January 2018

Since the fire, it had been a long and grueling month for Rob. There was still work to be done, but he had worked with teams from several partner companies and the professors inside the badly burned building to determine what could and could not be salvaged. They found space for all the equipment in other buildings within the engineering college, other buildings on campus, or simply some place to store it while future plans could be made.

The machinery and equipment that could be used had been moved and set up. Some of that required establishing new connections to either power or water, which needed upgrading. At least the end was in sight.

It may be good to have responsibility, and the accompanying pay, but this was one of those times when he wished someone else had it.

The entire time that he was working, Dean McVicar and the other professors were working with him, and his crews, almost side-by-side. Hell, most of the students were pitching in where they could. It was a nightmare scenario for scheduling, also, but it couldn't be helped. The whole engineering college would likely be in chaos for the next month or two, if not longer.

Upon getting home one Friday evening, a couple of weeks into the new school year, and seeing that Debbie hadn't made it in yet, Rob decided to take a quick shower and then start something for dinner. He had just finished grilling some chicken for a nice and easy chicken salad, with which to make sandwiches when his wife walked in.

She seemed lost in thought, when he said, "Hey."

Pause. "Oh, um. Hey."

"How was work and school?"

"It was fine. How was yours? You are actually home before 10:00pm tonight."

Trying to bring some positivity into their conversation for a change, he said, "I know. What a relief. The overtime pay will be nice, but I could use our end-of-the-school-year vacation right about now."

He smiled at her hoping she would feel the same. He continued, "Speaking of, where would you like to go this year? With your graduating, we should celebrate. Do you want to go back to California for some hiking, or something more cultural this year, like Chicago? Oh, I know, why don't we try Vancouver and then we could have a little bit of both."

Debbie looked very uncomfortable at that moment. She didn't answer and stood to get herself a glass of wine. She then poured one for Rob, also. Rob just looked at it.

"I can't go this year. I've been offered the opportunity to attend a research trip during that time. Please don't be upset." Since Rob had brought it up, she thought now would be the time to approach the subject. She was wrong.

"Upset? Why would I be upset? Just because I've seen so little of my wife this school year, and almost none of her lately, and she seems to have prioritized her dissertation and career over her marriage. Now, you don't want to spend your vacation with me; why would that make me upset?"

"Don't be that way, Rob. I've been meaning to tell you, but you've been working so much that I haven't had a chance. I have to do this."

"You HAVE to do this."

"Okay. I really NEED to do this. It would look good for my career and getting that position we both want me to get."

"Well, I could always go with you. At least we could spend the evenings together."

Looking even more uncomfortable, she said, "I'm afraid it's more complicated than that."

"Oh, God. Please, dear wife; tell me. Go ahead and get it all out rather than my dragging out every piece."

Rob was getting angry now. He still hadn't touched his wine.

"It's in Florence."

Even though he knew what was coming, he replied, "Florence, Alabama?"

"No. Italy."

He did NOT like the direction this was taking.

"Are you the only one going?"

"No. Others from my department, you know, Renaissance studies, are going to Italy where the Renaissance started."

"Who?"

"What do you mean, who?"

"Who else is going?"

"Why does that matter?"

"This campus isn't that big. You know I can find out if I ask around. I could just ask one of your colleagues. Go ahead and tell me who else is going." His voice was rising.

"Richard."

"...and?"

"Just Richard. He arranged it for me. You know it's likely I'll get one of the teaching spots that is opening. He has already started suggesting that will happen. This will look really good to say that I've spent time in Italy studying the Renaissance there, since I'll be teaching it here. It is going to be a big multi-university event. Richard has invited others from several universities to come, and he's pulling in several favors from people he knows in Italy to make this happen.

Rob was furious. "The hits just keep on coming. How nice of him to arrange it so just the two of you are going, without me. Remember when we talked about sitting on the corner of his desk and kissing at Halloween, or going to his house to review your work? Not to mention the blowup we had a few weeks ago. Now just the two of you are going to Italy? That trip sounds very romantic?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Rob poured out the glass of wine and grabbed himself a beer.

"It means that Richard is doing a good job of putting himself, your department and any potential teaching position between the two of us. And, from where I'm sitting, he doesn't seem to be getting much push back. As a matter of fact, you seem rather eager to go with him. Speaking of going places, are we still going to the opera together next month, or has he taken that away from me, too?"

Debbie continued to look at Rob but didn't answer. She didn't even look sorry, just annoyed.

He said, "Oh, that's just fucking great."

She had no idea how to spin this but tried anyway. "Rob, have you ever been to an opera?"

"Well, no, and neither have you. I thought that would be one of the great things about our going to it together. You know, husband and wife, sharing something new together. Damn, I must have been mistaken all these years."

"Don't be sarcastic. He knows all about operas. He's been to dozens. The president invited Richard and me to sit in his box, with his wife. Richard is going to be our teacher for the night."

"The president invited you, or was Richard and a date invited, so of course he thought of you, a married woman?"

Debbie began to dig in her heels, and unknowingly, her fate, "That doesn't really matter. I have an invitation to sit with the president and his wife. I'm going."

Rob replied, "This just gets better and better. When did you start openly dating other men?"

"What! How dare you?! This isn't a date."

"Let's see, Valentine's Day, at the opera, invited by a man that isn't your husband, when up until tonight, you and I had tickets for ourselves. This was something I thought we were looking forward to doing, together. Now you are doing it with him. It sure sounds like a date, and that's what it's going to look like."

"That's not true."

Rob said, "It may as well be a date. Do you have any idea how many people saw you and him kiss at the Halloween festival? That's how rumors get started, though the two of you as an item is beginning to sound less and less like a rumor. Now, given the whispers, everyone that sees the two of you together will think it's a date. Some might even think I approve."

He continued, "How's that going to make me look in this small college town? I'll bet you never considered that. Ha. It's evident that you don't really care. Now that we are finally shining some light onto our relationship, let me ask you this; even though we keep talking about his driving a wedge between us and you keep denying it, things that used to be reserved for me are being given to him. Why is that?"

"You're making things up now."

"Oh, am I? Even before the fire, you were spending more time with him than me. Now that things are beginning to settle down after the fire, a perfect opportunity for us to do something together is being given, willingly, from me to him, by you. You've chosen who you would rather go with, and it isn't your husband. Why is that? Do you prefer his company to mine, or are you afraid someone might see me with you?"

Debbie replied, "That's crazy. I'm not going to answer that."

Rob said, "You already have. It's clearly a mixture of both. It seems like you are moving on and moving up. Did your mother help you make that decision?"

"That's ridiculous. I'm not moving at all. I'm still with YOU."

"Tell me, wife, when was the last time that we've had a date or attended an official function together?"

She just sat there. Had it been that long?

"Cat got your tongue?"

"I'll... we'll do something. Soon."

"No, no, no, no. That's okay. WE were supposed to do this, and I don't want a pity fuck, or even a pity date from my own damn wife. If you don't want to be with me, then you can go be with whoever the fuck you want. I do not care anymore."

Rob grabbed his beer and walked outside. He was furious. He wanted to go beat the shit out of Richard, but all that would do is put him in jail. He could barely keep his anger under control. After several minutes, he knew one thing; he didn't want to be near his wife right now. He walked back inside, dropped his half full bottle into the sink, grabbed his keys and headed towards the carport.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Why the fuck do you care? You don't want me anyway." He replied and slammed the door.

Debbie was stunned that the conversation had blown up that quickly. What rumors was he hearing about her and Richard? She thought that he must have been making that up to guilt her into going to the opera with him. She decided that she wouldn't be coerced into abandoning her going with Richard. Besides, she needed to go with Richard to get the job, or else the blowjob would have been for nothing; damn it.

____________

Rob fumed as he drove to The Slide Rule. He grabbed a small table and waited for his beer to be delivered while he brooded, wondering how things got this way.

He had been sitting at his table for a while sending the "fuck off" vibe when a jiggly redhead, whom he liked so much, sat at this table. What was it about her that just seemed to relax him? As soon as he had that thought, he stiffened again. He wasn't in the mood for relaxing.

"Hey, Rob. I saw your sitting here alone. What brings you in?" After their last get together at the bar, Kate told the hostess, a waitress, and the bartender, all of whom knew Rob, that if he ever came in alone, to give her a call.

"Hmmm. Oh? We, uh... We had an argument, and I wanted to get away before I said something I was really thinking and couldn't take back."

"I'm sorry. If you need someone to talk to, you know that you've got me."

"Thanks, Kate."

They sat in their shared silence for a moment and then she stood. It saddened him to think she was about to leave, but she didn't. She ordered herself a drink from the bar and returned to their table.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"What?"

"You thought I was leaving."

"How did..."

"Sometimes, I just know."

Damn. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, just for a moment, and in that moment the pain was almost bearable.

He asked, "No hot date tonight?"

"Ha. Like you, I've been too wrapped up in trying to help fix our college. What a mess."

"True." Then he told her about his conversation with Debbie and his suspecting that his marriage truly was gone, like he feared.

Kate asked, "Why don't you come with me to the opera? I don't have a date yet."

"You're going?"

"I am. Uncle Harry said he'll be out of town that week and that I could have his box tickets."

"Nice," he said.

"Well, it will be even nicer if I don't have to go alone."

"You know, you could always take your aunt."

She replied, "I would prefer to go with you."

He smiled at that thought. He imagined her in a nice evening dress, imagining how stunning she would probably look; at least to him.

She saw the smile and said, "thank you."

He got a puzzled look on his face. "For what?"

"For whatever it was you were just thinking. Even if it was only your thinking that maybe we might make your wife jealous; that was nice."

"Am I that transparent?"

"I don't know. You are to me."

He just shook his head. "There is something really special about you Kate. I'm glad you came here tonight."

She stood to kiss him on the top of his head, temporarily putting those two wonderful, sweater-encased honeydews into his face. He wondered if she did that intentionally. Talk about distracting him from his problems. When she sat down, and he saw that smirk on her face, he knew.

"Don't be too surprised, Rob. I was just returning the favor."

He smiled at her.

"I guess now I have two unneeded opera tickets. I wonder who would want them."

"Are you kidding? That event has been sold out since Thanksgiving." Intentionally using her very slight Scottish accent, which she could turn on and off at will, she said, "Why, I think an astute and crafty young man like yourself could find a way to leverage those tickets to his advantage."

He thought for a minute and replied, "I'm starting to get an idea."

__________________

It was an extremely tense weekend in the Johnson household. Rob kept hoping that Debbie would offer a genuine apology, and ditch Richard, but that never happened.

He tried to discuss the situation, but Debbie was unwilling to engage him. The cold war had been restarted. It seemed like sides had been drawn, which is the wrong way to fix problems in a marriage.

Debbie confided in Richard that she and Rob were having problems, and Richard used that information to try to create an even greater rift between the two of them by telling Debbie that she was going to have a great career and would be recognized as an expert in her field. With his help, she would be given great courses to teach, and her classes would be in high demand. They were already beginning to discuss the next several research trips that she could take; with his guidance, of course.

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As Valentine's Day approached, Rob had had enough. He traded his tickets for a service he didn't really want, but suspected was needed.

On the night of the opera, Rob got home early. They had both been packing the dynamite into their marriage by barely speaking for weeks. Tonight, he expected she would light the fuse.

He had already showered and shaved before she arrived. He was sitting in some shorts and a T-shirt drinking a beer when she got home.

He knew it would take her an hour to get ready. He even knew which dress she was likely to wear; his favorite one, of course.

He waited and waited, and finally, she emerged from the bedroom, in the only formal evening gown she owned; a black, velvet halter top gown with a keyhole cutout, which showed some cleavage, and was open in the back with a nice slit up to the knee. The ultra-sheer hosiery she was wearing would look specially sexy all night. The final touch, his mother's pearls, always made her look special. She was about to pick up her keys when he said, "No."

"No? No, to what."

"You are not wearing my mother's pearls while you go on a date with another man."

"We've had this discussion already. I told you it's not a date. It's work."

"Actually, you haven't been talking to me at all. But just to prove to me it isn't a date, which panties are you wearing?"

"I'm not going to dignify that remark. I'm your wife for God's sake. Who do you think you are talking to?"

"I think you know the answer to that question. We may still be married, but you haven't been my wife for quite some time. Have you?"

There was no love in the look she sent his way.

She said, "I'm leaving. Well resume our communications when you can treat me with some respect."

Rob stepped between her and the door. "I'm not playing here, Debbie. Either take off those pearls or lift up that gown and let me see the underwear. Since this is supposed to be a university function for you, is your underwear what you would wear to a university function or what you would wear for your valentine? Oh, happy fucking Valentine's Day."

He expected, or maybe hoped, she would be sad or surprised, but she wasn't. She was livid.

She reached behind her and pulled the pearls off and dropped them on the nearby table. "Fuck you."

Then she left.

He thought, "Hmmph, that went about how I expected it to."

It was time for him to prepare for his evening.

______________

He actually rented a really nice tux for the occasion before he knew that Debbie was going with someone else. It was a shame that he was going to be escorting someone besides his wife while he was wearing it.

The fact that he needed to go look in her underwear drawer made him furious. Confirming she was wearing the panties he suspected verified that trading those tickets looked to have been a smart move. He finished his preparations for the evening, and with the few extra minutes he had pulled a couple of pieces of luggage out and began packing.

When it was time, as requested, he went to pick Kate up from her uncle's house, which he liked. It was no McMansion, which didn't surprise him, knowing what he knew about Dr. McVicar. He suspected it was meticulously crafted, and he wished that one day he would have time to see all of it, since on his visit there with Debbie, they didn't have the opportunity.

He rang the doorbell, and after a moment, it was answered by the Dean's wife, Isobel McVicar.

"Hello, Rob. Come in."

"Hi, Mrs. McVicar. I know this seems odd; my picking up Kate. I hope she explained the situation to you."

With a sad smile, she replied, "Yes. I'm sorry to hear about your troubles, but I know Kate has been looking forward to the evening. She's terribly nervous."

"Kate? Nervous? I didn't think we could put those two words in the same sentence."

"Well, you may think that, but trust me, she is. She's worried about her appearance."

"Mrs. McVicar, Kate is a very beautiful woman. Why would she be worried about her appearance?"

"I'm glad you think so, Rob, and if she chooses to, I'll let her explain why she is so worried. If you mean it, I hope you will tell her what you just told me sometime tonight. I think it would mean a lot to her."

That whole conversation puzzled Rob.

Isobel then laughed and said, "As you recall from the day you carried Kate to the clinic, she isn't always the most stable on her feet. If she isn't careful in her new heels, you may end up having to carry her the rest of the night."

Rob imagined carrying Kate around while wearing a nice dress, smiled and said, "You know, I'm not usually that lucky."

This brought a nice smile from Isobel, who liked his saying that.

Several minutes later, Kate walked down the hall and into the family room. When he saw her, Rob dropped his keys.

Gone were the ponytail, blue jeans and loafers or tennis shoes. The baggy sweaters and sweatshirts she preferred should never have been worn to hide her away, or so he thought.

In their place was a form-fitting, strapless sequined dress with a sweetheart neckline in dark navy blue, which contrasted her copper locks beautifully. That type of strapless neckline was very flattering on her and the 'V' dip in the center showed beautiful cleavage, but because she was well covered, it was elegant, not slutty. With the split up to her knee, her sparkly high-heel shoes showed when she walked. She was wearing a beautiful diamond-looking necklace with matching diamond drop earrings to complete the ensemble. Her hair was up, with a couple of ringlets hanging down on each side. Her makeup was light and allowed her natural beauty to show through. She looked like a younger, slightly smaller and only slightly less chesty Christina Hendricks.