She was My Wife's Friend

I'm not a good person and actually a pretty bad husband but what I am good at is getting what I want and what I wanted was my wife's friend Kristen.

Kristen was beautiful, two generations removed from Lebanon she had long hair the color of obsidian. I would've told you black or been more artsy and said raven but the truth is it had a perpetual shine that reminded me of the glass stone that seemed to absorb light and reflect it back. Large dark eyes sat on top a small arrogant nose, and as wonderful as her eyes and hair were it was her smile that truly turned heads. Her smile was genuine and innocent and I never could keep a thought in my head when I saw it.

Kristen and my wife had been friends since college and I'd met her after my wife and I started dating, in fact Sara used to drag me to football games to watch Kristen and the rest of the dance team. Maybe it takes me a long time to notice things or maybe I was too wrapped up in chasing my wife but at the time Kristen didn't seem like anything special. Things were still new for Sara and me so I only had eyes for her. Things were wild between us when we were dating and we got married right out of school. However, after being married for 9 years the fire we used to have is barely a spark.

It wasn't until my daughter and I showed up early to dance class one day that I started seeing Kristen differently. Kristen was an accountant for one of the large chemical companies in New Orleans and she taught ballet at Performance Dance. She wasn't my daughter's teacher but she taught the class before hers and she was working on a routine when we came in. The little studio has a viewing room just inside with a one way mirror so parents can watch without being a distraction to the kids. Charlie and I sat down in the little room and she started putting on her shoes.

I don't know the difference between dances and couldn't tell you what the hell jazz dance is, but the music playing was definitely not ballet and neither was the dance. Kristen was alone in the studio moving almost seductively. The dance was sexual, and Kristen moved like a python hypnotizing her prey. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, she was barefoot, and her navy blue leotard accented every small hip movement. Dancing had given her amazing legs and a butt that seemed more fitting on a sculpture than on a mother of two. Broken from my trance when another parent walked in towing a very unhappy child I found that I couldn't stand up because somewhere in the dance I had started to become aroused.

Kristen walked out still breathing from the strain of her routine and Charlie ran up to her to give her a hug. Finally able to stand I rose and gave her a sideways hug and peck on the cheek.

"Charlie, are you excited about the Nutcracker coming up?" Kristen asked, kneeling down so she could be face to face with Charlie.

Charlie's face lit up at the question. "Yeah, I'm gonna be a lamb" She said.

"I know, Mrs. Debbie told me. You're gonna have so much fun." Kristen told her sharing her excitement.

My kids responded well to Kristen; her questions were always pointed because she could relate to their interests, and her excitement for them was real.

Rising from her conversation with Charlie, Kristen asked me if I was going to watch the live production of Grease that night on TV. She loved musicals and Grease had been her favorite ever since I knew her.

"Of course not. I think there's a TV show about gardening with manure I want to catch." I said sarcastically.

"You're a butt." She told me and punched me in the arm.

Kristen got excited about stupid shows like that all the time. I've never met a musical I cared for and was happy I didn't live in her house where I'd be forced to watch them all the time.

Once home Charlie ran to my wife to tell her that she saw Mrs. Kristen at dance class.

"Oh yeah." My wife asked "And was she teaching her class?"

"No ma'am, she was practicing by herself. Mama, Mrs. Kristen is really pretty. I want to dance like her one day." Charlie didn't wait for a response she'd dropped her book sack and was running upstairs to play with her dolls.

Sara never really reacted to my coming and going, the most I ever got was a hello, when I came in or a, have fun dear, when I left. I started picking up the book sack and ballet bag while my wife continued in the kitchen.

"What was Kristen working on?" Sara asked

"Huh?"

"Kristen, what dance was she working on?" Sara repeated.

"I haven't got a clue." I told her honestly "You know I don't know dance."

I was glad my back was to her because the memory of Kristen's dancing made my heart beat a little faster and I was sure it was written all over my face.

"Well was it at least ballet?" Sara asked me.

"No, it was definitely not ballet." I replied.

I must have said the last part a little too emphatically because when I looked up Sara was staring at me with a look that said I'd just given away a secret.

"Oh? And why was it definitely NOT ballet?" Wringing her hands with a towel Sara was becoming amused with herself knowing I'd said too much.

I tried to change the expression on my face from wanton to disgust. "How the hell would I know? All the dances look alike to me. It just seemed slower than ballet."

"Uh, huh" she said not fully believing me but letting it go.

After dinner we got the kids in bed and sat on the couch together. Normally this is the time I watch TV and Sara reads or surfs Facebook. Flipping through the channels I saw Grease was still on and out of curiosity I turned it on. It didn't take five minutes before my wife was asking what the hell I was watching.

"Grease," I told her, trying to sound excited.

"You like Grease now?" She asked without looking up from the iPad. "I don't know. I guess I was just curious." I said not knowing what I really expected from the show. Maybe I was hoping to be as excited as Kristen was.

It was at the hunting camp that I first told my brother about my new found admiration. Nick worked I.T. support at Kristen's office so I knew he could appreciate my point of view, but he didn't relate on the level I'd hoped. He agreed that yes she was pretty but insisted that I should really see Holly, the new intern.

"It's not just that she's pretty" I tried to explain. "She gets excited about stupid things; it's infectious to see her get happy and excited about TV shows or plays."

"I'm sorry, you want to watch more TV? Is that what you're saying?" Nick asked with a disproving look.

"No, asshole. I'm saying it's nice to see someone get excited every now and then. Sara's a good person but I swear that at some point in the wedding the priest offered to remove her emotions." I was now being defensive and that's never a good way to argue with your brother.

"John, I'd be willing to bet you're the first person in history to ask that their wife be more emotional."

Trying to ignore Nick's sarcasm I continued, "You remember when they clear cut that park near my house? The one where Sara always took Charlie for a walk?"

"Yeah." Nick said.

"Well after they clear cut it I was walking by and found some flowers still growing there. I picked them and put them in a vase for Sara. When I gave them to her I told her where I'd found them and her comment to me was 'They Stink' and she put them outside."

"Well did they stink?" Nick asked.

"Yes" I had to admit "but you're missing the point."

Nick put down his coffee, facing me with actual concern and asked "Okay brother, so what is the point."

"I don't know. Maybe it's the seven year itch, albeit a couple years too late, or maybe I'm bored or horny. I don't know, but I really think I just want things to be exciting again or to see that what I do impacts someone."

"Oh now I see you're problem." Nick said "You're a fag."

"You're a real fucking prick you know that" I said laughing.

"You just need to get laid." Nick told me.

"Ehh, we have sex often enough." I argued and continued before he could say something else. "But every time it's the same thing. I always have to be the one to initiate it and only if certain conditions are met. Wait for the kids to go to sleep, then only after a shower, then only in missionary. It'd be nice to have her start it every now and then. Call me a fag if you want but it'd be nice to feel wanted."

Nick was back in his coffee and obviously getting bored. "First off you are a fag and if sex is that big a problem, why don't you just get a whore?"

This is the risk you run trying to open up to a guy especially when he's your younger brother. With the conversation going nowhere I changed the subject.

"Hey, you mind if I take Duke with me this morning? I'm gonna hunt the north side of Big lake?"

Duke was my brother's bird dog; a black lab that could pick up 3 ducks in one trip. It sure would have been helpful to have him retrieve my birds instead of driving the boat out to get them each time.

"Fuck no. It'd be a waste of time since you can't hit the broad side of a barn, in fact if you were shooting into the air you'd miss."

"Yeah? How many birds did you kill yesterday?" I offered.

My brother was a terrible hunter, just never could sit still. I think he came out here more to get away from his wife than anything else.

Instead of answering my question it was his turn to change the subject. "When do you go back to work?"

"I've got another 3 weeks off. Why?"

"Just curious when your next ass whipping is coming up. I wanted to prepare mom so she doesn't freak out again."

My brother's an asshole and always brought it up when he wanted a good laugh. A number of years ago I was beat pretty bad by locals at a bar in Lagos, Nigeria. I'm sure I said something stupid and deserved it but the truth is I was fall down drunk and don't remember much. I can assure you that the last place you want to receive critical care is Lagos.

I was a 3rd mate at the time and it was my first job on a ship. Since then I've stopped drinking and started working out. At the time we had a bosun that ran a boxing gym in Los Angeles and Carson gave me a training regiment, promising if I did what he said I wouldn't be beat on again. A bosun is a deck foreman, he runs the unlicensed crew and makes sure that maintenance the chief mate wants done is done. The bosun may not be an officer but he's usually well respected and honestly more valuable to the ship than I was as a 3rd mate. Carson was the scariest man I'd ever met; he had me running on deck every night and even hung a heavy bag on the stern for me to practice. I enjoyed boxing and fought several amateur fights on my time off.

Now 34, and a Chief Mate on a VLCC ship (very large crude carrier), yes that's a real term; I haven't fought in over 3 years, but I never stopped working out. The training even got me out of a couple bad scrapes. At 5'10" I don't qualify as tall or intimidating so it's helpful to have something to fall back on. In the past few years I've become vain about my appearance; always comparing myself to the cover of Men's Health to make sure my stomach was as toned or my arms were just as big. Working out had become part of my routine on the ship.

Three weeks passed and my next voyage was to South America when I got an email from Nick saying that when I got home he had a present for me. I didn't think anything of it, and honestly forgot about it by the time I got home 6 weeks later.

Nick called the day after I got home. "Hey brother, come over for whiskey one night when you get a chance."

Nick and his wife lived in a one bedroom apartment and I loved going over there. His place was like a sanctuary for me, with no kids and breakable things on every shelf. However, the night I came over his wife wasn't home.

"Please tell me you just remembered that you have another bottle of Pappy's?" I asked as he walked me in.

"Nope better." he said gabbing some glasses and filling them with ice

"Well now you do have me interested." Nick and I both like whiskey but our tastes differ on which ones are best. However, we decided that since we both like Pappy's then it must be the best, and what in the world could he have that's better than the best whiskey?

With glasses now full of Jack Daniels we headed to the balcony overlooking New Orleans warehouse district. The view was nice from the sixth floor and spring had not yet started so it was still cool outside.

"So what's this big secret you have for me?" I asked reclining in the metal rocker.

"You remember your wife's friend Kristen you said you have a thing for?" He asked me.

I hate this game; he was just indulging in holding information over my head for another second but I figured a simple "Yes" would get him talking faster than if I argued.

"Well it turns out she's having an affair."

Shocked with what he was telling me all I could think to ask was, "with who?"

"With whom", he corrected like a jackass. "Some plant manager in El Paso named Bruce, but that's not what's important." Nick continued.

"Wait, wait, wait. How do you know all this?"

"From Kristen, in a way. Her computer crashed a couple months ago and I was the one assigned to fix it. Well, before I had the system restored she received a rather personal email from this guy Bruce." Nick explained.

"So you read her email?" I asked, a little concerned about his nosiness.

"No, but it hurts that you think I'd stoop so low." He said in feigned outrage. "Her email was set to auto open and I saw some interesting things there before I closed it. Aaaaand I might have sent the email chain to my home computer to print."

"Holy shit. You have all her emails printed?" I asked.

"All sitting there on the kitchen table waiting for anyone who wants to read them." He told me with a grin.

"Okay, so why are you telling me this? What am I supposed to do about it?" I asked genuinely curious about where he was going with this.

"Look, I could lose my job if I confront her about it but if you do it, I bet she'd be willing to do a lot to have that secret kept." Nick said taking a swallow of his drink.

"I don't know brother, blackmailing someone can have some pretty bad consequences."

"Yes," he agreed taking another sip of whiskey before he continued "but it can also have some very good ones too."

We continued to talk about it for a while; him pushing and me reluctant. Finally I asked him why he just didn't do it himself.

"Well two very good reasons actually. One, you're the one infatuated with her; not me. I really don't care enough. Honestly had you not told me you had feelings for her I probably wouldn't have even taken note of the email. Two, if I do it there's a very direct connection to me so I risk more than you who can come up with any story you want on how you got the emails."

"Come on brother get real. She'll obviously know that you gave them to me."

"Yes, but she can't prove it, and that's what's important." Nick could see that I still wasn't convinced but before I left he finally got me to agree to at least look at the emails and if I didn't want to do anything with it then who cares.

I'd like to tell you that I mulled over it for a long time carefully weighing all the moral and ethical implications of invading someone's privacy but the truth is I couldn't wait to read them and opened the packet as soon as my wife left the house with Charlie the next day.

The emails started with Kristen apologizing to Bruce.

Bruce, I'm sorry for my tone in the email yesterday. I was having a bad day and I think I took that out on you. The numbers from your plant do need to be reworked but that didn't justify my attitude. Please resend the quarterly averages and I promise to be more receptive.

-Kristen

Kristen, it's perfectly understandable. If I couldn't handle being fussed at I don't think I'd be able to keep my job. I'll have the numbers back to you by the end of today.

I don't know what you're dealing with and it's certainly none of my business but what I do know is that we work to live and not the other way around so no one should expect problems in our lives not to affect our work

-Bruce

Thanks for understanding. It was just disagreement between my husband and I, and I shouldn't have let it interfere with work.

Your numbers look fine, thanks for the adjustment.

-Kristen

It's not a problem. I'm sorry you're having trouble. If you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to shoot me an email. I'll respond anytime because I don't have a life.

Take care of yourself.

-Bruce

You're very nice, but I think things will be fine and I bet your life isn't nearly as boring as mine.

-Kristen

Well if you ever need anything please don't hesitate to ask.

-Bruce

The next email didn't come for 3 weeks.

Bruce, If I sound on edge please don't take it personal, it was another bad weekend. However, the real reason I emailed is that I need you to give me a cost analysis on installing new steam lines.

-Kristen

Kristen, I'll be happy to give you any numbers you want.

If you don't mind me asking, what happened?

-Bruce

I don't want to bother you. It feels weird, like I'd be dumping on you. I ask you for numbers and favors all the time; the last thing you need is to hear me complain. Things will work out, they always do.

-Kristen

Things do usually work out but sometimes it's helpful to have someone talk to anyway. I promise you won't be bothering me, in fact I'd really like it if you would tell me. Hell, it'd actually be a favor to me. I'd rather talk to you than deal with plant stuff.

-Bruce

Kristen's response came a couple days later.

Carl went out last Saturday and didn't come home until Sunday afternoon. I think I could handle it better if I didn't have to explain to our son why his daddy's not there in the morning. I'm just glad our daughter's too young to notice.

I don't know why I just told you all that, please keep this between us and if you don't want to hear it anymore just let me know. Like I said, I don't want to dump on you.

-Kristen

First of all I do want to hear about it. I've gotten to know you the last few years and you're one of the few good ones at that office so if you're not happy then I worry about you.

Second let me worry about me and whether I want to hear it or not, you'll have to trust that I'll let you know if things are too much for me.

Is this the first time he's done this? Why did he say he was out all night? I know it always makes things harder when kids are involved but you were affected too. You're important and you should realize that. Anyway, let me know. I hope to hear from you soon.

-Bruce

The emails carried on like that for about a month. Bruce was always understanding and a kind voice when she needed someone to talk to and it turned out Carl was an ass. Carl thought he was going to become a professional golfer and he left her a lot to compete in tournaments. However, the tone of the emails changed when Kristen voiced her concern that Carl might be having an affair.

Hey Bruce I need a guy's opinion on something. Carl has left the last 2 weekends for golf tournaments in Florida which isn't too weird. The funny thing is I can't ever get him to answer the phone when I call and the one time he did pick up, the phone hung up right away. I'm worried that he may be seeing someone else. Do you think I'm being paranoid or should I really be worried?

Yours,

- Kristen

Kristen before we talk about this you need to know something about me. I had an affair; in fact it's a big part of why my marriage ended. If you don't want to talk to me anymore I'll understand but I'm also happy to answer any questions you have. I hope you don't stop talking to me though.

-Bruce

Why? That would be my question.

-Kristen

Loneliness is the short answer. I had just moved to the El Paso plant by myself to get settled in while my wife stayed in Ohio to sell our house. I didn't know anybody and not knowing Spanish only made everything worse. Every day was the same, go to the plant, go to the apartment, go to sleep; repeat. However, Alana, my secretary, was bilingual and she was always there to help me with the crew and even told me about a couple grocery stores that spoke passable English. While she was there during the day I was alone every night. I began to dread the end of the day and started showing up to work earlier and earlier until I started just spending a few nights there. My wife worked too and she was tired at the end of the day so she didn't want to talk on the phone much.