Reluctant Cuckold

by McManus, David

  “OK. I have a meeting to run to, but 8:30 at Gabriel’s.”

  “See you then, bro.”

  ****

  A crazed day at work had me scrambling to get ready. Mike called me at seven to make sure we were still on. I said, “Yeah,” but probably hesitated, because Mike seemed to sense I was nervous. I explained I felt a little weird about the whole Camp Marvins story.

  “Oh, Dave, it’s the whitest of white lies. It’s just a way for Ashley to be comfortable and for me to gain insight. Is she there now?”

  “No, she’s still at the gym.”

  “Relax, Dave, this is going to help. There’ll be no more Tamara pulling interference on you. You’re taking charge now, bro.”

  “OK,” I said, “I appreciate that.”

  “Hey, Dave? One last thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was thinking about what you said the other night. About how it might be difficult to get a read on her.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, I thought about this last night. You mentioned you have a San Fran office. You were out there a few weeks ago, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They call your cell after work sometimes, probably, right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I was just thinking that for me to really get a read on Ashley, maybe you should go outside for a few minutes, saying you’ve got to take their call. That wouldn’t be too unusual, right?”

  “It wouldn’t be that unusual, but the point being what?”

  “It would give me a few minutes of alone time where maybe she’d be more open. Get a little more insight.”

  “I don’t know, man. I’m already lying as it is.”

  “Trust me, Dave, I’ve thought this out. I will definitely get more insight from some brief alone-time with her.”

  “So, what are you saying? You want me to excuse myself?”

  “Yeah, like, step out of the bar for a bit, so she can feel a little more comfortable talking.”

  “I’m running late but fine, I can step out for a few minutes.”

  “Cool. So, after we acquaint a bit, I’ll give you a wink when she’s not looking.”

  “OK.”

  “And Dave?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Give me a little time, y’know, like say twenty minutes.”

  “Twenty minutes?”

  “To try and get something of significance.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Trust me Dave, OK? It will help you figure this all out.”

  It was late. There wasn’t time to debate the merits of twenty minutes versus five minutes. “OK,” I said.

  “Cool, I’ll be very discreet and signal you when to go. Then look at your phone or BlackBerry and tell us you have to take the call, OK?”

  “OK,” I said. “I have to get going. She’s going to be home any minute.”

  ****

  Ashley had changed into a black dress and Gabriel’s was close enough that she was OK walking there in heels.

  “So your friend’s name is Mike, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said “Mike Janson.”

  “So do you guys have some camp sing-along you’re going to bust out in unison with?”

  “No,” I said, nervously.

  Mike was already sitting at the bar when we walked in, chatting up the bartender as we came through the door. He smiled broadly when he saw me, stood up, and gave me a hug, saying, “Dave, my man.” Then he said, “And you must be Ashley,” and gave her a hug as well. “Please, have a seat. What can I get you both?”

  We knew the bartender in a casual way, and he greeted us as we both ordered vodka-seltzers.

  “Wow, Ashley,” Mike said, “Dave told me you were beautiful and showed me a few photos, but you’re far more beautiful in person. You must hear that a lot. My boy’s a lucky guy,” he added, as he rubbed my shoulders.

  Mike wasn’t wearing sweat pants this time, nor was he sporting the casual unkempt look I was accustomed to. He was wearing stylish, expensive jeans, trendy leather shoes and a black button down. He was clean-shaven and very polished. This GQ mode kind of threw me.

  “Are you on Facebook, Ashley?”

  “I’m on FB, but not actively.”

  “Just not into it?”

  “Maybe I don’t have time, or I’m in touch with my real friends. Those status updates can be so mundane.”

  “Yeah, I feel the same,” Mike said, “but I’ll give it props where props are due. It’s how I reconnected with Dave.”

  “Yeah,” Ashley said, “that’s what I was thinking when Dave told me you guys connected. It would be fun to reunite with some childhood friends. It must have been strange to see each other after all these years.”

  “It was, in a very cool, strange way,” Mike replied. “It gets you reflecting on your life and people who were really important to you. But you know what the strangest thing was about meeting back up with Dave again, Ashley?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Even though I’m now a grown man,” he replied, “and I haven’t seen Dave in two decades, I still feel like a little brother around him.”

  “Little brother?” she asked.

  “Well let me back-story it a bit to when we were kids.”

  I thought, Where in hell is Mike going now?

  “I never felt more alone in the world,” he said, “than the day my parents dumped me off at Camp Marvins and sped on out—on their way to their own vacation.”

  “Yeah?” Ashley said, sipping her drink, clearly interested.

  “Well, I showed up a few days late and all the kids seemed to know each other. I went into the cabin and lay down on my bed. The counselor ordered me outside to play with other kids, so I stood by a tree, wanting to be invisible. But I knew I wasn’t invisible, I was conspicuous. You know the merry-go–round, the ones at the playground? I mean you’ve ridden them as a kid?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she replied.

  “Well, I’m sure you guys were naturals, but I’d never been on one. But I tried to study the etiquette. If you want to get on, you have to spin the thing for the others before you jump on yourself.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, it took a while for me to get the courage to make my move. Only I was nervous and wasn’t spinning it fast enough, so I picked up the pace and fell head-first—smack into the sand. Everyone laughed at me, and not just the kids on the merry-go-round.”

  “Wow,” Ashley laughed, “for you to remember it so well now, it must have been traumatic.”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Mike replied as he sipped his beer, “so I fell spinning a merry-go-round. As for how I felt at that moment, it ranks up there with the most traumatic moments of my life.”

  “Were you there?” Ashley asked me.

  “I don’t think so,” I replied, “I don’t remember.”

  “No he wasn’t,” Mike said. “I was sitting on a rock by myself a while later and you know what older boy comes up, sits down beside me, and asks my name?’”

  Ashley smiled brightly. “Would that older boy be Dave, by any chance?”

  “You are sharp, Ashley. Dave told me that about you. Yes, it was. I’m sure you don’t remember this, Dave, but I remember you chatting me up about baseball.”

  “I don’t remember,” I said, feeling blind-sided by the story he was telling.

  “Yeah,” Mike said. “I loved baseball as a kid, and we were talking batting averages and pitchers, and that encounter changed everything. He introduced me to his friends, brought me in to his circle, and suddenly I was catapulted to being the cool kid in camp, being friends with the older kids.”

  Ashley put her arm around me and saddled up in couple-mode.

  “What can I say?” I said. “I had been there myself.”

  “Yeah,” Ashley said, “Dave’s dad still talks about how bad he felt seeing Dave’s forlorn expression the first time he left him there.”

  “Yeah, Dave told me about th
e ‘Everything’s dandy, dad’ un-mailed letter the other night. I hadn’t heard that one before.”

  “Oh yeah,” Ashley replied, “that cracked me up when I first heard it. Like if they had read your mail, an eight-year-old boy using the word ‘dandy’ in the 1980s should have raised red flags.”

  “Well, what Dave did for me,” Mike said, “especially at that age when kids can be mean, just speaks to his character.”

  “Aww,” Ashley said, “that’s all sweet,” and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “C’mon guys,” I said, “you’re embarrassing me. All I did was befriend a lonely kid.”

  “Well, it meant a lot to me,” Mike said, patting my back.

  Mike asked Ashley about her job. She said she liked it, but that it was not without its headaches. She talked about how clients could be difficult, then told of having to talk a client off a ledge that afternoon after first having him chew her out.

  Mike added, “Well, sometimes it’s less about getting your actual job done than managing others and securing the buy-in.”

  ****

  On our second drink, Mike gave me his wink.

  Things were going smoothly, conversation was flowing, and I really didn’t want to leave the scene. Then as Ashley turned for a moment, he nudged me, like, ‘Now’s the time.’

  I nodded back OK.

  I pulled out my phone and pretended to look at a message. “Oh Jeez,” I said.

  “What’s wrong?” Ashley asked.

  “The San Francisco office,” I replied. “I’m terribly sorry. This will only take a few minutes, but I need to get back to them.”

  “That’s the problem with time zones,” Ashley said. “They wouldn’t be hitting you up if it was 9 p.m. their time.”

  “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. Would you excuse me for a moment?”

  “Of course,” Mike said, “totally understand. We’ll be here. And maybe Ashley will tell me some good Dave stories.”

  “Uh-oh,” I joked, “be right back.”

  On the street outside, I suddenly felt weak in the knees. What the fuck am I doing? I thought. I had just left Mike alone with my wife. Perhaps Mike could get a read on her and encourage her to talk more openly, but anything was possible. He had dressed up and was acting suave—quite different than before.

  Suppose Ashley was attracted to him?

  And how much did I really know about Mike? Sure, he had treated me like a friend, but he was a man as well. And here I was, giving him unfettered access—albeit brief—to my wife.

  I tried to calm myself down. Ashley was out by herself all the time. She must always be getting hit on. As Mike had said, ‘She has opportunities to stray every time she walks out the apartment door.’”

  I found an angle from the window where I could see them talking by the bar. I wondered what Mike and Ashley were laughing about. Then I started thinking. A random guy hitting on her would see her wedding ring, assume his odds were low, and maybe not waste his time. But Mike knew what she had done, was capable of—he had insight and information. Sure, work people had those as well, but “the rumor” for Ashley was now a deterrent.

  Was Mike using his time alone with her to really get a read on her, or might he be attempting to hit on her himself?

  What the fuck am I doing out here?

  This whole plan had been harried and last-minute. I hadn’t any real time to think it through. On the other hand, Ashley wasn’t going to flirt back with someone she thought was my old friend.

  I looked again through the window. Mike was gesticulating as Ashley listened attentively. I felt helpless. I saw Mike put a hand on her shoulder, like he was saying, “I know, I know.”

  When eighteen minutes had passed, I couldn’t wait any longer. Mike saw me walk in and shot me a look, holding up his hand to say, “Five more minutes.” I turned around and went back outside. I thought of extended time in soccer games.

  What the fuck was I doing? Was he really onto some great insight?

  When I walked back in exactly five minutes later, I was prepared to shake my head no, that the alone-time with my wife was done. Instead he welcomed me back, saying, “Those damn west coast peeps.”

  “Pain in my ass,” I replied, “So how are you guys doing?”

  Ashley gave me an unusually bemused look and said, “We’re doing great.”

  Mike asked the bartender to turn the TV to the U.S. Open. It was a replay from the afternoon. Nidal was playing some nobody in an early round. Mike started chatting her up about tennis and she yapped away right back at him. When Mike started in on players’ individual strengths and weaknesses, Ashley replied, “I agree” or “Exactly.”

  Mike then added how he’d always wanted to go to Wimbledon and the French Open. Ashley gushed about both venues. Suddenly they were swapping stories of must-go vacation spots.

  “Ashley and I honeymooned in Italy,” I said.

  “Have you ever been, Mike?” Ashley asked.

  “Italy is my big European omission,” Mike said. “It’s next up on my list, though.”

  Ashley proceeded to name the various must-see places in Rome and Venice.

  Mike mentioned that he liked a song that was playing.

  “Oh yeah, I love this band,” Ashley said, “I saw them in Boston last year.”

  “Yeah, I’m just not into that solo album he did.”

  “Me, either,” Ashley replied. “Stick with the band stuff, Brandon.”

  I didn’t know the lead singer had a solo anything. I excused myself to go to the men’s room. I was feeling uneasy. Maybe tomorrow he’d say something like, “I observed her body language, and it’s clear that she loves you, that you’re the man in her world.” But I needed to stop throwing up conversational air-balls and get my conversational mitt on.

  As I walked back to the bar, Mike had moved into my chair, closer to Ashley, and had her laughing. “Hey buddy,” he said, standing back up, “are we ready for another round?”

  “Sure, I think I’ll move on to a martini,” I said, thinking a strong drink would help me get my game on.

  “I like your style, buddy. Another drink, Ashley?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, “what kind of beer are you drinking?”

  “Zlaty Bazant,” Mike said. “It’s from Slovakia. Have a taste, it’s really good.”

  “Yeah, that is really good,” Ashley replied.

  “Care to join me? I’m getting another.”

  “Yeah, sure, why not? It’s got an interesting taste, and why not mix-it up a bit.”

  “That a girl,” Mike said, and ordered us the round.

  I felt like a schmuck toasting them with my martini.

  ****

  “How you doing, man?” Mike asked when Ashley went to the bathroom.

  “I’m kind of wigging out about now,” I replied.

  “Chill out man, this is going well. I’m learning a lot. Trust me, I’ll give you the whole download tomorrow. Why are you wigging?”

  “I feel like I’m not even part of the conversation. Like it’s just the two of you talking.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize. I thought we were just getting to know each other. I’ll make a conscious effort to involve you.”

  “I wasn’t saying that—”

  “No, I will. I’m sorry about that. We can talk about camp days.”

  I gave Mike an “Are you fucking serious” look.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Jeez man, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to make up shit about jamborees and freaking three legged races.”

  Mike laughed, and then apologized for laughing. “Relax bro, this has been enlightening,” he said. “And everything with the two of you will be fine. Believe me. I’ll share with you when we’re alone and have more time.”

  Ashley was returning from the ladies room and I kind of backed away.

  “Yeah, Giants tickets,” Mike said to me. “PSL’s are outrageously expensive, but I might be able to score a couple tickets for us.
I have a friend with lower level twenty yard line.”