Think For Yourself

Becky looked great in her black dress. Maybe she looked too good. I'm a pretty laid back type of guy, but I pay attention to things that are important to me. My wife is one of those things.

Over the past twelve months, I'd noticed that Tom Burton had a thing for Becky, my wife of 24 years. He was fairly careful about it, but it was obvious to me. I could read his mind like a book. Whenever we were at the same social gathering, he would somehow gravitate to Becky, especially if I was occupied elsewhere.

I know couples can't be at each other's side all the time. It isn't healthy to even attempt to be. One of the purposes of socializing is to meet and interact with people other than your spouse or close relatives. I also understood that Burton was just a tad too attentive to Becky. He was too gracious... too smooth. At 44, Becky was still a very attractive, vibrant woman and Tom Burton thought he'd like to try her on for size. I had different plans.

Becky worked as a nurse at the local hospital. Loraine Burton, Tom's wife, worked in the administrative offices of the same hospital. That fact brought the Burtons and us together at many of the same parties and fund raisers. That allowed Tom Burton the opportunity to chat up Becky on a fairly regular basis.

I didn't distrust Becky. I simply knew that ignoring Tom's agenda would be a very foolish mistake on my part. I would thwart him, at the very least. At worst, I'd kick his ass. I had no illusions about my ability to whip the bastard, but if he got too close to Becky and seriously threatened my marriage, it would be mine to do. I accepted that as a basic part of life, like breathing. If a man won't fight for his family, he just isn't much of a man. Getting your head handed to you will do more for your pride and self-respect than burying your head in the sand, especially when you are fighting for family and honor.

I was talking to Mrs. Zimmer and Becky was across the room. We were a retirement party for Doctor Wilkes, who had been a fixture at the hospital for over forty years. Mrs. Zimmer was a delightful woman and I usually enjoyed time spent speaking with her. I had dated her niece years ago. She never failed to bring that up at these parties. She must have noticed I wasn't giving her my full attention.

"Dave, you're not very good for my ego. You're barely paying any attention to my clever observations, let alone my numerous anecdotes. Becky is quite capable of taking care of herself," she allowed. "Loraine's husband might as well try pissing up a rope."

"Mrs. Zimmer!" I laughed. "I haven't heard that expression since my father passed away! I'm glad you think that way, but if you have noticed his advances, why hasn't Becky?"

"Do you think she doesn't realize he is drawn to her like a moth to the flame, Steve?" asked Mrs. Zimmer. "He's always chatting her up at these affairs. In my long life, I have come to disregard the concept of coincidences. There are none,"

"Well, don't look for an argument from me, Mrs. Zimmer," I agreed. "I've tried to diplomatically suggest to Becky that our friend, Tom, wants to get into her thong."

I grinned as the older woman raised here eyebrows at my terminology. Then she smiled.

"I guess Becky could wear a thong. That fashion idea came after any possible thong days for me were well past," she chuckled. "I'm afraid my goal now is to conceal and support, rather than expose and entice. It would have been a different story thirty years ago."

For some reason, my mind rebelled at the mental image her words were conjuring. I thought that I did a good job of preventing my thoughts from being expressed on my face. I gradually worked my way back to Becky's side. Tom Burton had mysteriously disappeared by the time I reached Becky. I realized that he must watch me as closely as I watched him. That only served to strengthen my opinion that he wanted to get Becky in bed.

"There you are, Sweetheart!" greeted Becky. "I hope you're having a good time since you have left me alone for so long."

"I know you weren't alone, Becky. Have you noticed that Romeo always disappears when I approach?" I asked.

"You're not going to start that again, are you, Steve?" demanded Becky. "Tom was just being polite. He excused himself to attend to Loraine before you were even in sight. Your paranoia is taking over again."

"Becky, the guy is working you. It's very obvious to another man. He's quite patient, but he's determined. I can see that quite clearly," I insisted.

"What you see is another man being polite to me and it provokes your jealousy," retorted Becky. "You're always talking to different women, but I don't accuse you of trying to seduce them!"

"That's exactly right, Becky. I talk to different women. I don't spend most of my time with any particular woman. Therein lies the difference," I countered.

"Tom and Loraine are happily married, Dave. You have to relax a little and trust me a lot more. I've made it through 24 years without falling off the fidelity wagon," argued Becky. "I'm not even a big flirt, like a lot of wives my age."

"I know that, Becky. I'm not accusing you of anything," I responded. "I just want you to understand that Tom is doing his best to seduce you. I want you aware of it and not allow him the opportunity to compromise your honor, because he will if he can."

A couple of Becky's fellow nurses stopped by to joke with us and the conversation about Tom Burton ended. I stuck a little closer to Becky the rest of the evening and Burton avoided us. As a man, he instinctively knew that I could tell he was sniffing around Becky. In my mind, his patience made him very dangerous.

Everything smoothed over for a couple months. I realized that was because we hadn't been anywhere to bump into Lorain and Tom. I knew that avoiding them wouldn't solve the problem. Either Becky had to understand that Tom was a threat to our marriage, or I'd have to persuade him that he was looking at a world of hurt if he pursued his plan for seduction of my wife.

I work for an insurance company and the owners always try to get the company's name in the local papers. I was scheduled to attend a training session to learn all about annuities. I was slated to be the company expert in that department. The seminar was in Jacksonville and would last a week. I'd have to leave on a Sunday and return on a Saturday. It was splashed around the papers, along with my picture. It was good press and the company made certain that people knew they would be able to take advantage of my expertise.

The story was on the third page of our little town paper. It came out the week before I was scheduled to leave and pretty much detailed my entire itinerary. I soon discovered that people do read those blurbs.

It was the Saturday afternoon before I was scheduled to fly to Jacksonville. I had been over helping my neighbor across the street work on his lawnmower. He didn't have a wrench we needed, so I walked across the street and into my garage to get mine. I noticed the light was blinking, indicating the phone was in use. For no real good reason, I decided to listen in on the conversation.

"It's just a dinner, Becky, honest. I'll be a complete gentleman. I would like to spend a nice evening having dinner with a friend without her jealous husband staring holes in me," said a male voice. "You know Dave won't let us hold a conversation without getting bent out of shape. Have you done something that has made him not trust you?"

"I certainly have not, Tom!" replied Becky somewhat heatedly. "His jealousy has no basis in fact. It's embarrassing how he always watches you, and tries to intimidate you."

It was that goddamn Tom Burton trying to charm Becky! I held my hand over the mouthpiece so my heavy breathing wouldn't be heard.

"Believe me, Becky, he doesn't intimidate me in the least," boasted Burton. "I'm too much of a gentleman to make a public scene and embarrass you. It would only aggravate things if I administered a lesson in manners to Dave. I think it's wiser to simply avoid him."

"Don't make the mistake of thinking Dave would be a quick learner if you're the instructor, Tom," cautioned Becky. "Don't take Dave lightly. He wouldn't give a second thought to mixing it up with you if he thought you were behaving inappropriately toward me."

"I know he has a temper. He doesn't know I hold a brown belt and would have little problem rendering him helpless. I just find that sort of bravado unseemly unless I'm provoked. I have no intention of harming Dave, so don't worry about that," answered Burton.

"Well, that's a good thing, Tom, because it wouldn't be easy and I wouldn't stand for it, even if it were," replied Becky.

Was Becky beginning to smarten up? Even she had to see where Burton was trying to take this. I made a mental note to have a heart to heart with the prick, and quite soon.

"This is all taking us away from the reason I called," continued Burton. "As I was saying, Lorain has to go to her mother's next weekend. Since you and I are both going to be alone, it makes sense that we get together for a nice dinner, no strings attached."

"I don't know, Tom. Dave would be extremely upset. I know that for certain," Becky correctly reasoned. "It could get ugly fast if he found out."

"There's no reason for him to find out, Becky. I'd like to meet you at the Hyatt across the river Friday night at seven, but I hate to see you so afraid of your husband. If you think he'll do you bodily harm, then we certainly shouldn't meet. I'll protect you when you're with me, but I can't watch over you all the time. However, no one will know us at the restaurant and I'll even pick you up at your place if you prefer," offered the prick.

"No! I wouldn't want you to pick me up, Tom. Someone might see you and get the wrong idea, not that I'm afraid of Dave," Becky responded. "I'll meet you there, but you have to understand that we are only having dinner and nothing else, okay?"

"Of course, Becky," oozed Burton. "We'll just enjoy a nice quiet dinner. There's no reason we shouldn't be able to do that as friends."

Once they hung up, I slammed my phone down and marched across the street, completely forgetting the wrench I had gone to get. I was as angry as I could ever remember being.

Becky dropped me off at the airport Sunday afternoon. She had been unusually warm and romantic the previous evening. I had formulated a plan by then, which allowed me to gain control of my anger. I still wanted to give Becky the cold shoulder. I wanted her to realize I wasn't some spineless wimp that she could toy with.

If succumbing to the only woman you ever wanted, or loved, is being a wimp, put me first on the list. When Becky came to bed nude and started working her magic on the little guy, he and I both responded. To love a woman so much is to have weakness. Becky was my Achilles heel. I could never refuse her anything in bed and I didn't that night. The next morning I was upset with myself, but my soldier was quite content.

We kissed and told each other how much we loved the other. We made plans for Becky to pick me up the following Saturday and I promised to call home every night. I didn't mention the slight revision I had made in my itinerary.

It took me a couple dozen phone calls from Jacksonville and a lot of begging, whining, insisting, and threatening, but I had everything set up for Friday night. I was back in town by noon and put the finishing touches on my plan. I bought a pair of dark rimmed glasses and a bad wig and then headed for the Hyatt around six.

I had decided that if plan A failed, I was going to be close enough to Burton to implement plan B, which was pretty much cold-cocking Burton at the restaurant and probably going to jail. I was not going to allow Becky to leave with that slime ball, regardless of what else took place.

It cost me five hundred dollars to convince the hotel management to save the five tables I wanted, but it was essential to my plan.

I was sipping a beer and looking at the menu when Tom and Becky were shown their table. Somehow, it happened to be next to mine. Becky was dressed to the nines and looked beautiful. I had checked myself out in a mirror and I knew that even if Becky had been looking for me, she'd never recognize me with the unkempt hair, the glasses and a new suit.

I was able to catch most of their conversation as I studied the menu. Becky seemed a little nervous, but Burton was firing on all cylinders as he worked to allay her doubts. He wasn't pushy and I didn't expect he would be, yet. He was laying the groundwork for a seduction. The prey had to be lulled into a sense of safety and well-being before it would take the bait. That was where I came in. Becky was not going to be Burton's next meal as long as she was married to me and I wasn't in jail or the hospital.

Suddenly Becky's head jerked up and her mouth fell open. Then she raised her menu up to cover her face, except for one eye. I turned to look in the direction she faced.

I couldn't keep a smile from creeping across my face as I watched as Nancy Wahl was escorted to her table by a very distinguished gentleman. Even in her late sixties, Nancy cleaned up very well. Her escort was very attentive and held her arm and whispered in her ear as they passed Becky's table to be seated near the back of the restaurant.

Becky's surprise at seeing her mother at the restaurant was obvious. Her dismay at seeing that it wasn't her father escorting her mother was priceless. Becky kept looking in her mother's direction while holding the menu in front of her face.

Nancy appeared to be far too interested in her escort to even glance Becky's way. I was beginning to enjoy the unfolding drama. Becky, on the other hand, seemed tense and quite nervous. I knew she was debating whether or not to tell Burton that her mother had just entered the restaurant with a strange man. In the end, she had to realize how humiliating it would be to explain that her saintly mother might just be a common slut.

My prime rib arrived and it was delicious. The beer was cold and the drama was high. I waited for the next act. Becky had just placed her order when she gasped and pulled her napkin to her face. Again, I swung my head to see the cause of her consternation.

Gloria Reynolds looked incredible in a short red dress with narrow straps and a very low neckline. As her gentleman friend held the chair for her and she bent to hold her dress under her as she took her seat, I was privileged to see a generous amount of breast. They sat at a table about twenty feet from Becky.

The fact that Becky's little sister was dining out with her old high school boyfriend was not lost on Becky. Anger flashed across her face as she watched Jason Whitman caress Gloria's face and then take her hands in his. There was no reason Gloria couldn't enjoy a quiet dinner with a friend. I assumed that her husband, Bob, was taking good care of their three children. Gloria appeared to be having a really good time. I ordered the chocolate mousse and waited.

Becky had little interest in her dinner. She kept hiding her face while attempting to watch her mother and sister in what appeared to be flagrant disregard for their marriage vows. Her agitation was palpable.

I was finishing my mousse when Becky actually began to sob. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and tears streaked her cheeks. What could have brought on such an emotional response?

I turned to see Jennifer Reid enter with Bruce Davis. I thought Gloria looked incredible, but Jennifer was absolutely stunning! Every head turned to watch her walk to her table, which was just two tables in front of her mother's. The only time I had ever seen Jen look lovelier was at her wedding last year. That was a wonderful affair and she was radiant when I escorted her down the aisle and gave her hand in marriage, to Joe Stanton. As I recalled, Bruce Davis had been Jen's date for her Junior Prom.

Becky was livid. She and I had discussed Jen's choice for a husband many times. We had pretty much agreed that Joe was a wonderful young man. He was industrious, educated, good looking, and absolutely devoted to our daughter. The present situation appeared to be aggravated by Bruce Davis' rather familiar touching of Jen's arms and hands. He finally took her hands in his as she laughed at some private joke.

Becky was out of her chair and in Jen's face in less than five seconds. She was angry and didn't attempt to keep her voice down as she berated our daughter.

"Just what do you think you're doing here without your husband?" demanded Becky. "Joe would never allow this! I won't have you behaving like some common whore and ruining your marriage to a wonderful man. I want you to come with me right now. I'm taking you home!"

By the time Becky had finished her rant and stood glaring at Jen, Nancy and Gloria had come up behind her.

"Don't be such a prude, Sis!" chided Gloria. "Jen just wants to have a nice quiet dinner with a friend. What bug do you have up your ass?"

Gloria never was one for finesse. Becky whirled around and faced her mother and sister. Her anger appeared to have increased exponentially at the sight of them.

'What is wrong with you two?" cried Becky. "You have wonderful husbands and you're out behaving like old sluts! I never thought I'd see you disrespect Dad like this, Mother! How could you do it? Gloria! You have three beautiful children and a loving husband. What are you thinking?"

By this time, the place was in near pandemonium. All conversation had stopped and all the patrons were transfixed. It was like a train wreck in slow motion. No one could pull their eyes from the scene being played out.

Actually, that wasn't accurate. Tom Burton decided that it would be an excellent time to call it an evening. He dropped a hundred dollar bill on the table and circled around the far side of the room, obviously headed for the door. I was right behind him.

Once outside, I yanked the wig off and tossed the glasses to the pavement as I called his name. His shoulders hunched as if he'd been shot in the back. He slowly turned.

"I'm told you're some sort of Karate expert or something, Tom," I barked. "Why don't you show me what you've got!"

"I don't want trouble, Dave. Becky came on to me.! It was her idea and I just went along with it," he lied. "She's been after me for months."

"You miserable cock sucker!" I snarled. "Chasing my wife means you do want trouble, and you've fucking found it. Let's dance, Asshole!"

Tom tuned a shade of white you seldom see in nature. Without another word, he spun and practically ran down the street. At the speed he was going, he'd cover a couple blocks before he realized he had to get his car from the valet. Maybe he'd catch a cab instead.

I turned toward the restaurant door and came face to face with Becky. Jen, Gloria, and Nancy were behind her.

"Dave! I never, he was the one, I'm so ashamed!" cried Becky as she faced the ground and sobbed pitifully.

I looked at the Becky's family, my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and daughter all watching me and waiting. I knew what I had to do. The only way I was able to convince them to participate in the evening's charade was by promising that I would make every effort to work things out with Becky. They were willing to help make a point, but only after I told them I didn't want a divorce or a separation. Now they waited.

I stepped up to Becky and put my fingers under her chin and raised her head so she had to look at me. I saw shame and fear. It both pleased me and saddened me. I was happy that she had enough pride to be ashamed and to fear that she had lost me. I was saddened that it had come to this.

"Becky, what I want from you is an admission that I was right about that guy. I want you to admit you had no business going to dinner with another man without my knowledge and consent. I want you to admit to your mother, sister, and daughter that you deserve whatever punishment I devise and that you will accept it," I demanded. "I want that right now or I want your ass out of my house."