The Affair: Cristiana’s Full Story

by Jaimes, Aidèe

  I’m going to see him today. Bo.

  It’s his mother’s seventieth birthday and three weeks ago we received the purple, gold and green invitation to celebrate at his house in Huntersville. It’s going to be a “Big Easy” bash, with a zydeco band and dancing if I know her as well as I think I do, and lots and lots of Cajun food.

  God, maybe I shouldn’t go. The mere thought of seeing Bo again, after over half a year, still has me so nervous I can’t think straight.

  I’d finally gotten to a point where he wasn’t in the background of my thoughts every day, all day. Where I wouldn’t go to the Jensen’s house and stare at his pictures the entire time I was there. And where I wouldn’t catch myself fantasizing about what I would do if I ever found myself alone with him.

  Time, coupled with everything that happened with Owen, had made him a distant memory. As a matter of fact, up until three weeks ago all I could think of was my husband.

  Things have been wonderful. We have found each other again, our souls reconnected; I think I love him more now than I ever have. That ticket he gave me was all I needed to get out of my rut and my fury evaporated. It had given me a sense of control back, power in a way, even if I never chose to exercise it.

  Owen for his part has done everything he can to regain my trust. He never goes out, even with a co-worker, and if he does he brings me along. We have hired a sitter and have made it a point to go on a date night at least once a week and we even took our first vacation alone, leaving Mia with my dad for two days while we went to Asheville. It was tough, but boy did we use that time wisely, going to dinner, exploring the town, visiting Biltmore and other historic sites. And lots and lots of bed time of course!

  These were all things we did but took for granted before we had a child. Now they are a luxury. It felt like it did when we were first together. It was the definition of a perfect marriage.

  Until I received this deep purple envelope in the mail, the name Bo Rougier on the top left corner. It was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Owen Roberts, so it took me a minute to understand who it was coming from. But when I did, those six months of marital bliss vanished into thin air.

  I tore the paper open so fast I cut myself. When I saw it was an invitation to Bo’s house, my first thought was, “Will Owen be going?”

  It’s a terrible thought, I know, but I could not handle having the two of them in the same room. Besides, Owen would see through me in a heartbeat, and I so want to see Bo.

  Then the second thought hit, and I wildly rummaged through my underwear drawer until I found it and pulled out that little piece of paper. The ticket. No longer just a piece of paper, now it was a living thing in my hand, full of possibilities.

  So, these last few weeks have dragged on. Owen hasn’t questioned me, but I am sure he knows that things have changed. I have felt myself drifting from him. I’m not as enamored, or as adoring, spending more and more time thinking of Bo and the few times I saw him, studying those moments in my mind, going over every detail.

  “Where are you?” he’s asked me several times, catching me off guard staring blankly at nothing in particular. I don’t say anything, just smile and shake my head. I can’t say I feel guilty. There is too much excitement building in me for that. Perhaps anxious about the unknown is more like it.

  So today is finally the day. I get Mia dressed and we are off.

  Bo lives in a twenty-five hundred square foot farmhouse, built in the 1980s, on a three-acre lot. I know this because anytime his mom talks about it I take note and memorize it all.

  There are dozens of cars there when I arrive, and I’m horrified when I see there is an attendant directing everyone to park parallel on a gravel drive.

  “Oh my God!” I cry out.

  He points behind a minivan, but before I can get to the spot, he’s already directed the truck behind me. I am left with a small space, which I suppose for the average driver would be plenty of space to park a Civic in, but for me, he might as well have asked me to park on a dime. I move forward a little, then turn my wheel, move back, turn my wheel, move forward, the tires screeching and crunching so loudly on the rocks beneath I know there’s no way my struggle has gone unnoticed. So it goes, and I still can’t get the car in far enough.

  I roll down my window and holler to the attendant, “Can I just leave it like this?”

  The guy walks over with a no-time-for-this-shit pace and motions me to get out of the car. “Geev me yor kees, I move,” he says in a heavy accent I can’t quite place.

  I do so gladly, and he parks it in one try. It’s not so bad, maybe no one saw. Then I see about twenty people hanging out in the open garage looking at me and laughing. Even that isn’t so bad, I think as I grab Mia and the gift-wrapped casserole dish I bought Mrs. Jensen. That is until I notice that one of the people there is Bo. He’s watching me with too much amusement from his seated position on one of the lawn chairs they’ve set there.

  Dear lord, just strike me down now!

  I bee line it to the front door, not stopping to say hi. My face is burning. Why did he have to see that!

  The front door bursts open before I reach for the handle.

  “I thought I saw you trying to park there!” Jess cackles.

  “Shut up or I’ll pinch you,” I threaten as I walk past her with Mia in tow.

  “Ah, don’t be mad,” she laughs and picks up my girl. “I can laugh cause I’m your friend and I love you. Besides, no one else saw.”

  I roll my eyes at the back of her head as she walks by. “You know she’s perfectly capable of walking.”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t be able to kiss these yummy cheeks then!” she says smooching Mia.

  “Jessie!” Mia says in the same baby voice she uses around her daddy.

  I follow them in and take in every detail of the house. It’s not at all what I expected a bachelor pad to be, though I don’t know what exactly I expected. I guess I thought I would see black leather recliners and posters of cars and hot women plastered all over the walls. Maybe an oversized television with lots of video games strewn about.

  Instead his house is tidy, clean, and smells of pumpkin spice, though I suspect that’s because his mom is here now. It’s an open floorplan type home, some dated furniture, a pine dining room table and console and ceiling fans that match.

  His living room is leather, not black recliners, but a brown couch, loveseat and an old rocking chair. And the walls don’t sport pictures of half-naked girls, but instead have pictures of his family. His parents, his kids, a son and a daughter he shares custody of with his ex-wife. There are no pictures of her here, though I have seen one or two at Mrs. Jensen’s house.

  The closer to the back I go the busier it gets. There are several groups of people gathered, eating standing and chatting loudly. Lively music thumps from somewhere outside making the windows rattle slightly, washboard, accordion, banjo, maybe a harmonica, and gets louder every time someone opens a door.

  “There is a buffet set out there and a beer and wine bar. They may have some liquor if you prefer,” Jess shouts my way and points out a set of triple glass doors that lead to an oversized pool deck. “I’ll watch Mia so you can go say hi to Mrs. Jensen and eat something in peace.”

  “What about you?”

  “I already ate and Kevin and Reilly have the other kids. I feel kind of lonely,” she says squeezing Mia to her. “You should get out there. Did you see how many people are here? Who knew Mrs. Jensen was this popular?”

  “Well, she is very friendly,” I say walking away.

  I go out through one of the sliding glass doors. A line is formed along three long tables covered in purple and green that have been placed to one side of the pool, loaded with deep pots, large casseroles, and an assortment of dishes.

  The amazing smell of Jambalaya, Gumbo, and Rabbit stew fills the air, among other New Orleans’ specialties. There is a server at the end of the line offering little pieces of andouille and I take two. They are spicy delicious an
d they take me back to a less complicated time in my life.

  It’s a warm October day and there are a few people swimming and others I can see in their cover ups lounging about.

  I hear Mrs. Jensen’s loud laughter and head her way. She is at the far end of the pool, a glass of red wine in hand. Her bright floral dress and perfectly coiffed hair let me know she has no intention of getting in the pool, though she is wearing several colorful beads around her neck and she looks pretty tipsy, so who knows.

  Beside her are Bo and another woman. He must have gone around the house, I think, to beat me here.

  I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. It’s time to channel the old Cris, the one that wasn’t afraid of any man. Confident. I wanted to see him after all, and here’s my chance. He wants you, I remind myself. There was no mistaking his looks the last time I saw him.

  Emboldened, I walk over, telling myself that I am beautiful, attractive, sexy. Damn, I want to roar!

  When I get to them Mrs. Jensen stands and gives me a drunken hug. Her large hoop earrings clack against my small ones.

  “Cristiana! I’m so glad you could come! Sit, sit!” She pulls me down to sit beside her on the lounge, her long nails lightly grazing my skin as she pulls them away. “Where are Owen and the baby?”

  I look at Bo, expectantly. But he’s not looking at me now. He’s having a discussion with the woman sitting beside him.

  “Um, Owen had to work. Mia’s inside with Jess.”

  Bo’s still not looking my way. There is no evidence that he even knows I am here. What?

  “Ah, ok, I’ll have to go steal her for a few minutes. I have something for her she’s just going to love!” Without warning she stands and leaves me sitting there alone. I barely acknowledge what she’s said, I am so dumbfounded. Was I wrong about Bo’s interest in me?

  I don’t know what to do. On the one hand, it’s weird to sit here with Bo right beside me completely engulfed in his conversation. On the other, who the hell is this woman he’s with?

  I stay because I want to listen to what they are saying, and because I want him to see me, to look at me the way he had before. But their words are too muffled. He makes no effort to look my way.

  The minutes seem like hours just sitting there, feeling self-conscious, and I finally leave when I realize this girl he’s with, is WITH him. Confused, I head to the bar. Mrs. Jensen never mentioned a girlfriend. Then again, I made it a point never to ask about him.

  While the bartender makes my vodka and cranberry, I take the opportunity to look over at the secretive pair again. They are still sitting together, but now his kids are with them.

  She takes his five-year-old daughter, Sammy, and ten-year-old son, JB, and holds them to her for a selfie. It dawns on me then who she is. The ex-wife, Laura. At least she looks like what I remember seeing at Bo’s mom’s place.

  I frown. Why is she here? Are they back together? Maybe he’s just sitting with her so that she’s not so uncomfortable. She is the ex, after all, and probably doesn’t know many of the people here other than his mother.

  The bar is close enough that I can kind of make her out, and far enough that it wouldn’t look creepy, so I take my time inspecting her. I want to know what kind of woman he’s chosen in the past.

  Honey gold hair up in a messy bun. Very tan, lots of sun exposure that I can see. She’s wearing a bright orange bikini, no cover, and looks like she may have had some breast augmentation. Her body isn’t perfect, but she’s beautiful. Gorgeous even.

  “You got some beef with someone or somethi’ stink?” the bartender asks handing me my drink. “You should smile. Turn that frown upside down.”

  I wrinkle my nose at him. Yeah, something stinks Bud, them big melons over there!

  For over an hour I bounce around, from group to group, glancing his way every chance I get. He is with her the entire time, and it irritates me that he never leaves her side.

  After a while, I find myself inside, alone, looking out, and I see him pull off his white T-shirt with one hand, leaving only his blue swim trunks. There are beads of sweat trailing down, between his shoulder blades, to his lean waist. I try not to pant as I gawk. My goodness!

  “He is one hot man,” Jess whispers in my ear and I jump.

  “You scared the s-h-i-t out of me,” I spell out so Mia doesn’t understand.

  “Sorry, just seemed like you needed to be snapped out of it. You need a mop for that drool? Maybe I need to call Owen out here.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “I’m just site seeing.”

  “Well, we all know what that can lead to.” She winks at me, but it doesn’t look like she’s kidding.

  “Why aren’t you in the pool, Barbie?” I ask, using her first name she dislikes because she does in fact, look like a Barbie Doll.

  “Don’t call me that, you know I hate it. Why the hell my mother named me that I’ll never know. Besides, I’m a summer doll. This is freaking fall, I don’t care how much you heat a pool, it’s cold! Anyway, here’s your kid back, I gotta get going.”

  “You’re leaving? But we hardly talked!” I panic thinking I’ll be left here all alone.

  “Yeah, kind of hard to do when you’re stalking some hot piece of ass, ain’t it?”

  “Oh hush!”

  She giggles maliciously. “I kid, I kid. Maybe. Anyway, Kev’s tired and the kids are whining, so you know how it goes.”

  I sigh. “Well, thank you for taking Mia. It was a nice break.”

  “You gonna hang here for a bit?” she asks.

  I consider my options. I don’t know anyone here. Mrs. Jensen is sitting drunkenly in the living room rocking chair, watching Mr. Jensen snoring on the loveseat.

  “I don’t know, what do you think?” I ask Mia.

  “Momma, Miss Lydia say she has a toy for me, but she didn’t give it to me,” she pouts.

  I look at Mrs. Jensen, “Well, maybe a little longer. I want to sit and chat with her for a bit.”

  “Okay,” Jess hugs me and Mia. “But watch those eyes. I see nothing but trouble in them.”

  “What? No, I’m not looking.”

  She shakes her head at me. “I can see right through you, lady. I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do what we did. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you loud and clear,” I dismiss her concerns with a wave of my hand. “Bye, Jess, I will see you tomorrow.”

  I have been sitting on the floor, chatting with Mrs. Jensen and playing with a few random toys another kid had left out while Mia stacks dominos, when the feeling of someone walking up behind me makes me look up.

  Bo slaps his stepfather’s knee, “Hey there, Dan. Gonna join us at some point?”

  Mr. Jensen’s eyes slit slightly open and he smiles dazedly up at Bo. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  Bo and the woman he’s been hanging out with all afternoon sit behind me, and I can’t stand the feeling of my back to them, so I adjust my position and face them. Seeing them sitting there together bothers me to say the least, but when I see she’s holding Puggy… well that just adds insult to injury. I didn’t even know that little dog was here.

  Sitting here on the floor I feel awkward, somehow vulnerable. Very much like I don’t belong. While before I was having a nice conversation with the Jensen’s, now I am quietly fiddling with the hem of my skirt, rolling the sequin between my thumb and forefinger.

  Mrs. Jensen clears her throat. “Thank you for such a wonderful party, Boey!”

  “You like it Momma?”

  “Oh yes, and your stew was to die for!”

  “Wasn’t it though?” the woman asks.

  Mrs. Jensen mumbles something under her breath I can’t make out. Then looks to Bo. “Bo, baby, you gonna be able to watch Puggy for me next weekend?”

  “Yes, just remember I have the kids so I’ll have to bring her here.”

  “I can watch her!” the woman says.

  “Oh no, I wouldn’t want to bother you,” Mrs. Jensen replies waving her hand, then
reaches over and takes her little dog back.

  “It’s no bother at all! I’d love to help. Besides, were family!”

  Family? I’m confused now. And then I think I’ve had it wrong all along. The Jensen’s have a daughter that lives in Wilmington. This girl is Bo’s half-sister. I glance at her. I suppose that could be her. I never really paid too much attention to the pictures, though I thought she had darker hair.

  My mouth gets ahead of my head and I blurt out, “So you two are siblings?”

  Their heads snap my way in unison, and Bo bursts out laughing. She does not.

  “We’re dating,” the woman nearly snarls at me and looks at him annoyed as she introduces herself as Dawn.

  My hopes of cashing in my ticket are dashed, done, ended by this blonde bombshell who I now know without a doubt is his girlfriend.

  Bo stands up and takes Puggy from her hands and gives her back to his mother.

  “Momma, I gotta take Dawn home. She has to get her kids from their dad’s. But I will see you in a bit. I love you,” he tells her and leans down to hug her. Puggy growls at him and he backs off. “Whoa, dog. What happened to being friends?”

  “All right, Boey. Be careful.”

  He looks down at me and nods his head, while Dawn walks off without a word.

  I get up too. It’s time to go. The sun is setting, along with my libido.

  “Can Mia stay with you for a minute?” I ask Mrs. Jensen. I can’t trust Mia to stay put, and that pool out there makes me nervous.

  “Of course, you leave that precious little girl with me.”

  I’ve got a bottle of water in my hand and I walk to the kitchen to refill it. The house feels empty, as does my heart, as if though I’ve lost something even though I never really had it.

  I’m halfway to the kitchen when the garage door opening makes me look back. It’s Bo. I smile at him but keep walking until he stops me with a single tap to my arm.

  “Cristiana,” he says.

  I turn to him and our eyes lock for the first time today. And there it is again, that look, so intense and deep, it sends a heatwave through my core.