by Amanda Aksel
I sauntered into a restaurant that evening where I met Telly for dinner. We hadn’t seen much of each other over the past few weeks since she was shacking up more frequently with Will, a man I still couldn’t warm up to.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked as I wiggled into my seat.
“The most amazing thing happened to me today.” I beamed.
“Did you win the lottery?”
“Nope.”
“Did you get a great deal on shoes?”
“Nope.” I shook with anticipation.
“Did you catch James cheating?” A laugh squeezed through my lips.
“No, but I will!” I screeched with the same sorority girl enthusiasm as Rachel. Telly waited for me to finish. I pulled out the business card and gave her a run down on Man Test.
“So, it’s like escorts with ulterior motives,” she said.
“Exactly.”
“Why didn’t I think of this? With all my client’s cheating spouses, probably wouldn’t be admissible in court though. Are you sure it’s legit?”
“Who cares? It is brilliant! They’re very discrete and work only on a referral basis. They don’t want the word to get out or else every husband and boyfriend will think they’re being set up and won’t be themselves and go for it. Which, now that I think about it, could actually be a good thing.”
“Probably not too good for business.” She looked the card over a few times. “So, what are you going to do?”
“Set it up, of course.”
“When?” she asked sipping her drink.
“As soon as possible. I look at it like this, I could play this game with James for who knows how long or I could send in the bait and watch him catch it like a stupid fish. I’m tired. I want this to be over so I can move on with my life.”
“Do you think he’ll go for it?” A dumb question in my opinion.
“Of course he’ll go for it. Cheating is all about opportunity. When a man encounters a discreet, mess-free opportunity to have sex with a woman he won’t say no. It’s in their DNA. There are always opportunities, especially for eligible guys like James. This is the ultimate test, finding out if he can resist opportunity.”
“So, you’re pretty much setting him up to fail?” she asked as if there could be another result.
“Yeah, that’s basically my take on romantic relationships now,” I said like a cynical champ.
“Doesn’t that belief make you less effective at your job?”
“I think it makes me more effective.” She shrugged. “Do you want to set one up for Will?”
“What? No,” she said.
“Oh, I get it, you’re in the bubble.”
“Bubble, what bubble?”
“Telly, I haven’t seen you in weeks. Your life is work and Will, work and Will. You’re trapped in this bubble where it’s all about you two.”
“Call it what you want, but if I’m in a bubble so are you,” she said. I rolled my eyes scoffing. “Oh, come on. I know you like James.”
“Sure I like him, but I don’t have any real feelings for him that would put us in some kind of a bubble.”
“Well, he’s definitely in your bubble. The way he looks at you. I almost feel bad for the guy.”
“Now you know how I feel about everyone you date.”
She smirked. “Oh, is this what it’s like?”
“Yep,” I smiled.
She shrugged. “I’m just not a relationship person.”
“Neither am I.” I raised my glass and she toasted me in agreement.
The next day I scheduled the Man Test. I was relieved to know that in only two weeks the truth would be out, and I could finally stop pretending. It was the equivalent of quitting a crappy job. Since it was coming to an end, the next couple of weeks would be easy.
That same night, James made a surprise visit to my apartment. When I asked what his visit was for, he handed me a sleeping bag and waltzed in.
“What’s this?” I said, baffled. “Are we having a slumber party?” He took a beer from the refrigerator.
“Better! We’re going camping.” He threw out his hands as if it was the greatest news to have ever come knocking on my door. “Do you mind if I have this?” James pointed to the beer. I nodded, still in shock. Camping! No way, I was a city girl, a city girl who didn’t sleep on the ground.
“Sorry James, I don’t camp.” I handed the sleeping bag back to him.
“What? Why not?”
“Because, I don’t like bugs or roughing it.” I pleaded my case, which really wasn’t up for discussion.
“So you’ve been camping before? That’s how you know you don’t like it.” His attitude stunk of arrogance. I crossed my arms and reluctantly told him that I had never been camping. Once he got over the shock that a thirty-one-year-old had never slept in the woods, he began to explain how great it is. The fishing, the campfires, the scary stories, and let’s not forget the camp coffee.
“David and I always go camping for Labor Day weekend. This time we want you and Rachel to come.” He gave me a sappy face, but I wasn’t falling for it.
“Wait, did you say Labor Day weekend?”
“Yeah, it’s a tradition.” He continued to look hopeful. Labor Day weekend fell after the Man Test weekend. By then we would be broken up. In that moment I didn’t see the harm in saying, “Okay, I’ll go.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I can see it means a lot to you.”
He grabbed me tightly and lifted me from the ground. I couldn’t help but laugh. His excitement was infectious. Besides, I had my own reasons to be excited.
The night of the Man Test arrived on the twenty-eighth of August. It was a Saturday night and James was going out with David and some other friends for a night on the town. He’d be drinking, of course, so his defenses would be down. The conditions were perfect to be ravaged by a beautiful woman.
I remembered going to the Man Test office a couple weeks prior. They don’t take appointments by phone. For whatever reason it was important for them to meet me and for me to meet the woman. Monica, the woman assigned to my case, had perfectly bronzed skin, long dark hair, and blue eyes that could pierce a man’s soul. Her voluptuous hips were paired with a tiny waist and full, perky breasts. She was a temptress all right, and as far as I could tell it was a foolproof system.
The case manager, Jane, explained the entire process. She told me Monica would locate James and approach him like any lady lusting after a man. Monica would talk to him casually so that he’d feel comfortable, and then crank up the intensity. Eventually, she would flat out ask if he wanted to go “home” with her, giving him all the reasons that he should. That was the test. His only options were to say no and get out of the situation or say yes and go for it.
In either case, Monica would document the entire night in a report, quoting things he said, explaining every detail of their intimate encounter, presenting every truth typed in black and white. When I asked Jane how many men passed the Man Test she said very few.
“There are faithful men, but we don’t usually get wives and girlfriends that are curious. Our clients are already suspicious. We have a saying around here—where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
It was difficult to imagine any guy passing the Man Test, not James, Chad, Will, or even my brother despite his admitted fidelity. I lay on my bed thinking about how the night would play out. It was a quarter after eight and with any luck James and Monica had already met. I pictured James playing it cool at first, but he wouldn’t be able to resist her when she stared into his eyes with her crystal blue ones, cleavage showing, nipples hard, her hand on his crotch, telling him that no one would ever know. All because he’s a man, a reckless, lying, cheating man.
The next morning felt like Christmas. The day after the Man Test, the day I got my package hand delivered, disclosing all the dirty details of James’ casual encounter. The day wide open with nothing to do but sit tight until the courier delivered the news.
I relished the lazy Sunday and avoided the one call I got from James. I previously told him I had a lot to do and wouldn’t have a chance to see him. Hour after hour, I waited. By two o’clock there was no news, and I was a little frustrated. I figured the later the message, the better the news. If there was a lot to tell then the report would be lengthy. Long reports take time to write. The thought of this made me giddy. Then, my palms became clammy as I let it sink in.
Even though I was okay with me being emotionally devoid in our relationship, it made me a queasy to think that James would do something so hurtful after being so loving and faithful. The way he looked at me, the things he said, his seeming sincerity. Was it really all for show? Were we both trying to put one over on each other?
Finally around five, there was a knock at my door. I opened it quickly to find a woman in a trench coat and sunglasses. Seriously . . . a trench coat and sunglasses. She was straight-faced.
“Marin Johns?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“This is for you.” She shoved the package in my hand. By her lack of warmth, I had a feeling the news was as expected.
“Have a good day, Miss,” she said and took off like a secret spy in the night.
I closed the door without taking my eyes off the brown envelope. My heart raced and my hands trembled. There it was, the moment of truth. I tore open the envelope and pulled out the thin report.
Dear Ms. Johns,
We are happy to report that James Young has passed the Man Test. This is an extremely positive indication that James is faithful even in the most tempting situation. Congratulations, we wish you and James all the best.
Sincerely,
Jane McGee
What? This couldn’t be right.
“He passed?”
I started to read the report and skipped down to the end where they explained how he denied Monica. I became furious, irrational, barely understanding the words I was reading. I wanted to faint, yell, and cry all at the same time. I ripped the report in half and let out a frustrated scream.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I stomped into my bedroom and slammed my hands against the wall. “Unfucking believable!” Through the rage, I managed to put on my shorts and running shoes. There was only one way to get out this kind of anger.
My run lasted a good hour that night, and I only stopped because my knee wouldn’t allow me to keep going. The words of the report resounded in my head. Why was this guy not taking the bait? I cursed James, cursed Chad, Man Test, and the last five months I had spent consumed with thoughts and research of infidelity. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t I get the one thing I wanted? Just this one little thing to set me free. Didn’t I deserve a break?
After a hot shower, I felt a little more relaxed. The report was torn and scattered on my living room floor. I wanted to read the encounter with an objective eye, so I pieced it back together with some tape. With a deep breath, I began reading.
It started almost as I imagined. Monica trapped him while he was getting a drink at the bar. Their conversation started casually, and then began to heat up. According to the report, James was very polite, but didn’t seem to respond to her advances. She spent the night talking on and off with James, and by the end of the night she laid down the law. He refused her by saying, “I’m sorry. You’re a beautiful girl and if I were single I would take you home in a second. But I’m not.” And he walked away.
I went over the report in my head again and again and gathered that he was interested, but declined because of me. How was it that of all the men in San Francisco, I had literally found the only ideal faithful one? James wasn’t a cheater, not that I would put it past him forever, but he was loyal. What was even more impressive was the fact that our relationship was still new. We hadn’t committed to each other with I-love-yous or moving in together. In truth, we were at a point where we had the freedom to walk away easily if he wanted. That’s when I realized that this was my karma. I took advantage of someone and this was the universe’s way of throwing it back in my face.
Well-played Universe. You really had me going.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gone Fishin’
James didn’t buy any of my excuses to not go camping, so at seven on Saturday, I got a knock at my door.
“Good Morning!” Rachel said, beaming when I answered the door. Her chipper attitude was more annoying than usual since I hadn’t yet had my coffee. She strolled behind me as I went back to the bedroom to grab my things for the trip.
“You about ready to go?” she asked. Her eyes pried around my room.
“Just about,” I said, putting my toothbrush into my bag. I looked at my unmade bed, thinking how cozy it would be on that cool September morning. Ah, to be sleeping in. My eyes drooped at the thought.
“What’s this?” she asked with a youthful curiosity. It was my Man Test package. She held the business card in her hand, studying it for clues of its real purpose. The last thing I wanted was Rachel bringing it up in front of the guys, both were waiting safely outside. Just a guess, but that kind of thing could put a damper on the weekend.
I explained that it was a service that helped wives and girlfriends determine if their mate was a cheater. She asked what I was doing with such a service and if I had used it on James.
“After what happened with Chad, I had to know if I was dealing with another, ya know, cheater,” I said, playing the victim.
“Of course,” she said. “Did he pass?”
“Yes, he passed,” I said clenching my jaw and forcing a pleasant smile. She smiled a ray of hope. “Please don’t say anything to anyone. I don’t want James to think I don’t trust him.” Rachel pretended to zip her lips, a promise to keep it between us.
“Do you mind if I take this card?” she asked.
I hesitated. Since she was practically my own little sister, I wanted to shield her from the ugly realities of relationships. Then again, she was a grown woman. Why shouldn’t she have the opportunity to know the truth about David if she really wanted?
“Sure,” I said. “But Rachel.” Her gaze shifted from the card to my eyes. “Be careful when you go looking for trouble, you just might find it.”
“Oh, it’s not for me,” she brushed off my words of wisdom. “It’s for a friend.”
“Right.” Sure it was. I hear “my friend” in therapy a lot. It’s a protective mechanism of sorts. “Be sure to tell your friend the same.”
“Marin?” James called from the living room. I grabbed the Man Test package from Rachel and stuffed it in a drawer. We made our way out to the living room with my two overnight bags in tow. James greeted me with a smile and a large cup of hot coffee. My mouth watered as I held it to my lips.
“What’s the hold up ladies? It’s time to hit the road,” James said. Rachel and I looked at each other with a hint of secrecy.
“Just girl talk,” Rachel said. James picked up one of my bags. Rachel gave me a little wink and I returned it.
“Well, you can save it for the campfire,” he said.
“We’re only going for a couple days. Do you really need two bags?” he said as we left my apartment.
“Yes,” I said. “Rachel, how many bags did you bring?”
“Two.”
I smiled at James, batting my eyelashes. “See.” James rolled his eyes and loaded my bags into his car.
“See you at the lake!” Rachel waved and hopped into the other truck with David.
When I got in the car, I saw that Marvin had taken up the entire back seat.
“He’s coming too?” I asked. “Of course, Marvin always goes camping with us.”
“Great,” I mumbled as I turned to face the front, hoping Marvin and I could ignore each other during the trip. He stuck his head between the front seats and grunted like a bull. I scowled and took an indulgent sip of my hot coffee. It was going to be a long weekend.
Two hours later, we arrived at the campground. San Fran may have been two hundred miles away, but it felt
like a thousand. We hiked about ten minutes until we found our campsite. David and Rachel assembled their tent while I attempted to help James with ours. After a while, I let James finish without me since my lack of experience and ability to take simple direction seemed to be holding us back. The only tent I ever helped pitch was morning wood, which is exactly what I told James. He laughed and told me he had no problem with that.
I felt a call of nature coming after my large coffee and the twenty-ounce bottle of water I had on the way.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.
“Wherever it’s private,” David said, approaching with a roll of toilet paper. I accepted the toilet paper with caution.
“Come on, I’ll show you where I always go. It’s completely hidden.” Rachel pulled me into the woods.
The two of us staggered into the woods to this so called hidden forest toilet. All of the sudden, I didn’t need to go anymore. She led me to a part of the woods only a minute’s walk from the campsite. Thick trees enclosed it, but plenty of light peeked through the branches. After five minutes of awkward squatting, I finally had a release. It wasn’t the proudest moment of my life, but as far as peeing outside goes, it wasn’t so bad.
When we returned to the campsite, everything was set up. James motioned for me to come inside the tent. It was roomier than I imagined, complete with my two bags and full-sized air mattress.
“See, it’s not so bad?” James said. With a smile I agreed, thankful I didn’t have to sleep on the ground. I grabbed a magazine from one of my bags with the idea of reading while the guys gathered wood for the campfire. Before I could get comfortable in one of the fold out chairs David called out, “Ready to go to the lake?” Marvin barked and James gathered his things.
“What’s at the lake?” I asked.
“Dinner,” James said.
I carried my backpack with some trail mix, my iPod, and magazine to enjoy while everyone else fished. We trekked down a pathway, which finally revealed the lakefront. It was breathtaking. The water was calm and reflected the trees and hills that surrounded it like a crystal clear mirror. There was definitely something serene about looking over that beautiful body of water.
