An Unlikely Affair (closed for Initiate_me)

Thirty minutes later, Deb sent me a message - stuck at the gallery, but if we planned the next trip in advance, she would love to go with me.

The thought of spending time alone with Kristy was not comforting at all, but I knew it was necessary - probably more for her than for me. I believed she was truly apologetic about what she had said to me, but the fact is that it could never be unsaid. So there was no sense in hiding from it anymore.

With a couple of hours to kill before I left, I decided the nap was definitely going to happen. I just hoped my brain listened, because there were a lot of thought rambling around in my head that were going to try to keep me awake.
 
I went to the bar a few blocks away, where I knew people from the office went sometimes. It would be safe at this time, in the early afternoon. They were working.... as so they should be. I had more important things and these things arrived in the form of a Moquito and then another Moquito.

I silently toasted Deb for being a champ and taking care of things for me and I toasted myself for carrying on or something and then I toasted Joe for standing up for himself and not taking my shit. I toasted Jensen for being cheery and in the hope that one day he would reveal the secret. I was well into my second and feeling quite a bit better.
 
Sleep did not come. I tossed and turned for a while with no success. I turned on music, hoping to drown the thoughts I was having - no luck there either. I went into the front room to try the television. How do people watch those depressing soap operas that make their own lives seems wonderful? Maybe that was their secret.

There was still a couple of hours left before I needed to drive over to pick up the kids for the evening. I picked up my keys and got in my truck and just drove. If I couldn't sleep, I might as well be doing something. I had no agenda - no direction - I just drove.....

As the miles stretched out below my tires, I thought of Kristy.....I thought of Deb......I thought of Clarissa. Three completely different women, and somehow they all had a piece of me. Where was this going? What would the end picture look like? I didn't know, but I didn't want to waste all of my time wondering. Taking care of Joe meant at least two of these women needed to go, and while I thought I knew which two it was, I wasn't sure.

I found myself pulling into a private shooting range. I reached for the pistol I kept locked in the truck and headed inside. Perhaps the thrill of firing a gun would take me away from my thoughts.
 
A man in a grey business suit, presumably on a liquid lunch, offered to buy me another moquito and I had a hard time turning it down but I did. I checked my watch again and an hour had passed already- but I knew everyone would think I was still talking to my father and discussing important things and determining the future of the company. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like I could pretty easily take the rest of the day off and do what I liked. I decided that I would.

It would be nice to meet someone. Make conversation, laugh. Fuck his brains out. But the suits here didn't appeal too much. I took my phone out and rang for a taxi. There were better bars with better men. All I needed to do was call by my apartment and change into something more inviting.
 
I showed the gun range owner my badge. It was usually good for a free session on the range, since it was never a bad thing to have a cop in your facility. I took the ammunition back with me and found an open spot. Once the target was loaded on the clip, I sent it down the range.

I was completely in my element here. Squeezing off a few rounds at a black target was comforting to me, for some strange reason. One thing was that I was very good - not too many other officers could compete with the accuracy I was able to show.

But there was something about knowing you were good at a part of your job that made me happy to be here. There were lots of parts in my life in turmoil right now, but I could always fall back on my chosen career to get me grounded again.

The target came flying back up the chute - another close pattern, another successful volley. If I could only get my personal life to be as tight at the pattern on the target.....
 
I'd squeezed into a tight dress of violent blue and put up my hair. The cab dropped me outside the bar, in a popular nightlife spot between my apartment and the gallery, about three miles from each. It was early but there was a good mix in The Pink Olive- of the self-employed, artists of all kinds, the idle rich, all of those kinds of people. I went to the bar, carefully in my tall black heels, and got another Moquito, extra sweet this time. I stood at the bar and sipped it and waited for something to happen.
 
I stepped out of the shooting range and noticed a half-way clean-looking bar across the street. I still had an hour or so before I headed to get the kids for our night together. The place was nearly empty, so it wasn't a problem finding somewhere to sit. I ordered a beer, and when it arrived, I took a long pull - nice and cold, refreshing.....and overwhelmingly lonely all at the same time.

I pulled my phone out to text Deb - How are you doing? I'm sad you won't be able to join us tonight.

As soon as I hit send, I realized I had just made a terrible mistake - the message that was supposed to be going to Deb was actually sent to Clarissa. I looked at my phone as if it had screwed up, but I knew it was my fault. This could be interesting, I said to myself as I shook my head.
 
A text buzzed in my bag and I took at my phone and investigated and it was from Joe and it didn't make a lot of sense. Did he mean that for me? I wasn't sure. It looked unlikely..... who was "us"? I was confused so I sipped some more of my cocktail and returned my phone to its home and looked around again. A man caught my eye and his suit looked expensive Armani but instead of a shirt he wore a band t-shirt. Cake. I really liked that band. I really really liked that band. He didn't look like John McCrea but he had softer good looks with blonde hair that curled slightly and strong classical features.

I had his eyes a little longer than needed and then looked away when he got the point. I knew he was standing up and making excuses to friends and walking towards the bar and towards me.
 
I waited for a reaction.....and then realized no reaction meant she either hadn't read it, or she honestly didn't care anymore. I chose the latter explanation. I had to get her out of my mind. I knew all along - I wasn't in her league, I wasn't in her circle, I was just a hired hand who did his job and moved on.

I sent the the same message to Deb, and she responded right back - Stuck at the gallery until 9, but I'd rather be with you and your kids!

That made me feel better. I decided to send a response back to Clarissa - Ignore that - meant for someone else.

I headed for my apartment to get ready to see my kids and face my ex-wife.
 
I read another text from Joe. What the fuck was this? Was he trying to make me jealous? I felt angry and more than a little bit affected by the alcohol I'd enjoyed.

"Hello there miss," the man said and he gave me a charming smile as he tapped the bar and the barman appeared and waited for orders like a patient dog. The ceiling was high and the lights were low. "Can I buy you a drink?"

I said he could.
 
The drive was a little more hectic this time of day, as the commuters from the suburbs were all racing home to enjoy the rest of their day away from work. The suburb for me was safety - quiet and clean, a place for me to raise my little family for the rest of time - until I stopped that time and walked away from my family.

Now I was doing all that I could to hold my fractured relationship with my kids together. It wasn't the best situation, but it was one that millions of parents all across the country accepted as the new normal. Now here I was, fleeing to the suburb not to escape to home, but to momentarily suspend my loneliness and reconnect with my Susie and Joey.

I had messaged my plans to Kristy before I left - supper and movie first, and then we could talk. I was putting it off as long as I could, but I knew I had to face her eventually. Hopefully my kids' chattering would create a temporary peace from what I dreaded.

I pulled up in front of their house, and the kids had been watching for me, because even before I got stopped, they came racing out - my world, my hope, as excited to see me as I was to see them! It would be a great night - all of my other problems could go to hell for a while.
 
It was starting to get dark outside. We were drinking and he was telling me about his love of surfing and I wasn't interested because I'm not interested in surfing and it isn't interesting. I was really feeling the effects of the drinking now. We were sat at a small table in the corner and the place was getting busier. I slipped off my heels and raised my leg under the table and stroked his inner thigh with toes kept in thin dark tights. He broke off his sentence and grinned at me and I raised my eyebrows and smiled back.

"Are you going to take me home now?" I whispered.

He nodded slowly, in a pretence of thought. "Yes, I think I am."
 
Eating out with a 9 and 7 year old means fast food, and preferably one that has a playground. We had a hard rule - you do not play until you had eaten your food, but once you went to play, you were done eating. They were hungry enough that the food went pretty quickly, and now as they played, I sat and ate my food in relative quiet - as quiet as it could be watching 10 or so kids having a good time.

I found myself wishing that Deb was with me. She would be enjoying the kids, and I would be enjoying adult conversation with her. Don't get me wrong - I love my kids to death, and would spend an eternity of boring kid conversations with them if I could. But I could use some of Deb's cute charm and happiness right now, just for an overall pick-up.

I glanced at my watch - 6:45. She still have over two hours to go, if the gallery had the same hours each day. I did a little mental math....the movie was done by 9:00, talk to Kristy for 15 minutes (hopefully less), then 30 minutes back to the city....could we possibly get together for a little while after I got back?

I didn't want to sound to eager.....although I'm not sure why. She deserved to know that I liked being with her. So I sent her a message inquiring about a late-night date - maybe just ice cream, perhaps some pub hopping.....I was open to anything at this point, if I could do it with Deb.
 
I felt I'd been here before. The room was moving in circles and I heard the water running in the bathroom. His bedroom was all navy blue and just a little bit cold. I knew he was going to come out in a minute and I somehow hadn't decided if I was going to have sex with him or not. The lust had faded away mostly and the decision seemed quite simple and straight and clean and devoid of any strong emotion.

I exhaled and lay down on the bed and the ceiling moved so I closed my eyes.
 
The movie finished, and I was taking the kids back to our house....well, their mom's house anyway. Deb had not responded to my text, so no plans had been made. That meant listening to Kristy for however long she felt like talking, and then heading home to a dark and empty apartment.

We pulled up in front of the house. The kids got out of the truck and ran toward the front door, while I followed lazily behind. As soon as they went in, Kristy came out and walked up to me. She didn't waste any time with what she had on her mind.

"Joe, I'm sorry for what I said last time....it wasn't right and it wasn't fair and it's not really the way I feel. I know you're a good father, but I just wish......."

I knew the end of the sentence, but I wanted her to say it anyway. "You just wish what, Kristy?"

She sighed, and then bravely went on. "I wish you were here, Joe - I wish I knew what I had done to make it so hard for you to love me. I wish you were staying tonight, and forever."

For some reason, I stepped over to her and pulled her into a hug. There were ways in which I still loved her, and always would. But just like her, I wish I knew why I felt like I couldn't stay married to her, why I couldn't be a totally present father.

"What about Stan...or Stewart, or whatever his name is? Don't you have a new friend now?"

"Steve," she corrected me. "Steve is just a friend - it will never be anything more than that. He helps me through the lonely times, but he's not husband material - he doesn't come close to matching up to what I've had before."

I don't know if she said that just to try and make points with me or not, but I had to admit it sounded pretty good. In fact, as I stood there holding her, her apology sounded good as well. I'm not sure she was forgiven yet - I didn't know if I could ever forgive that remark. But she had made a good start.

I released the hug and said, "Kristy, I need to get home. I start a run of night shifts tomorrow night and I need to get some sleep built up before. If you ever feel like tossing out daggers again, would you discuss it with me beforehand? I'm still available to talk."

She smiled at me and replied, "Okay, Joe - I promise, no more daggers. Goodnight."

I watched her as she walked back inside. She was an amazing woman, and my first thought was that even though I still didn't think we could be together, I realized that I was more unhappy with my life now than I was when I was married to her. Weren't things supposed to get better after a divorce? I was ready for that to happen at any time.....
 
I opened my eyes again and did not want to be there. He was still in the bathroom and I figured he was likely giving himself a quick clean as I was pretty sure I'd whispered something to him about my skill with my tongue and all the things I could do with it and how I loved the taste of salt. That now seemed like an unwise boast to have made and I wanted to remove myself from the situation.

My mind clunked between gears for a few seconds and was straining to find some devious escape route but then I remembered that this wasn't a cell or an asylum or a jail or an underground cave or a big dark pit or a secure facility or a mysterious portal world but was in fact a very ordinary luxury condo. And so I got up and picked up my phone and my clutch bag and walked quietly out and went to the door and walked quietly out of that too. I made brisk progress down the road and looked behind me a lot and some neighbours peered at me from their windows because it was dark and I was wearing very little and no one walks around here. I got around the corner about a mile away and called for a cab. The evening's adventure had been shit and I was glad it was over.
 
I thought more about my "happiness" revelation on the drive back home. Regarding relationships, was there one concrete definition of happiness for which everyone should strive? I thought about what my own definition should be, and why I didn't seem to find it when I was still married.

Maybe my standards were too high, and might be unattainable. When I thought about being married to Kristy, I don't think there were any times where it was completely unbearable. Maybe that's what happiness looked like, and I just couldn't see it.

Could I find happiness if I continued pursuing Deb? She was cute, intelligent, seemed to get along very well with my kids. But what would be different about her when compared to Kristy? Why would my happiness be greater with Deb than it was with my ex-wife?

Maybe happiness was just learning to be alone and not trouble others. Maybe I wasn't meant to be with someone. As I pulled up to my apartment, I had almost convinced myself that should be the case. My job, my kids, my apartment - what else did I need?
 
I wanted to put my head in the refrigerator, wanted to calm down and it was difficult. I sat down on my own bed in my own clothes and felt as though I was not my own. I was weighed down and there was too much to figure out. I went and got a drink and drank it and sat down again and felt no different. I knew I needed to rest so I lay down on my own sheets with my own head and slowly went to sleep.
 
As I lay in bed while sleep eluded me, I knew what I wanted.....and it was unattainable. I knew it - I had been told that many times. Yet apparently I hadn't learned the message.

I thought about sending her a middle of the night text, but fortunately common sense kicked in before I made that mistake again. I knew I could not force her to want to be with me - I knew that because Kristy had been trying that tactic on me since our divorce. It hadn't worked on me, so why did I think it would work in Clarissa?

Even thinking her name brought chills - partly because I still could see past the curtain she had placed in front of reality and and could understand what she could be. But part of the chills were because I knew it was a dangerous path to travel, with no hope of reaching any satisfactory destination.

Was my self esteem so low that I was willing to be degraded by another of her rejections?

Why not, I thought to myself - since I was already degrading myself and my fucked-up sense of romance and friendship.
 
I didn't want it to be morning but it was, with the alarm again. I trudged into the kitchen and got some cereal and sat down with it and ate it very slowly. My mind was slow and my movements were slow. I fiddled with my phone and no one had messaged me which was probably for the best really. I looked around the room and wasn't sure I liked living here any more. I could move, I thought. I could do a lot of things.
 
Damn it, I had forgot to pull the blackout curtains across the window when I went to bed last now, and now the sun shining in was bright enough to wake me up. I needed more sleep - night shift work was hard even when it was quiet. It would be harder tonight with not enough sleep in the bank to help me through it.

My phone said 6:45. Maybe I could catch a nap later this afternoon before reporting tonight. I checked my phone, hoping Deb had sent something, but it was free of messages from anybody. Joe the nobody - except for his kids, he was not really needed at all.

I wondered what Clarissa was doing this morning. Was she working? She has mentioned something about her dad's company, but I didn't remember the details. Did she ever go to the gallery? I remembered the last time we had been there together, and a chill ran up and down my spine.

I knew I was miserable. Would I be any more miserable if she rejected me again? Third time's a charm, right? I thought about sending her a message. Did I want to sound desperate? How could any message I send to her not sound desperate, since she had shot me down twice already?

Throwing any sense of self-preservation to the wind, I reached for my phone and sent a theoretically harmless, but potentially disastrous message..."Good morning."
 
My phone buzzed as soon as I'd put it down and I picked it up again and stared at the screen. Joe, "Good morning". What did that mean? I tried to think about what to say or if to say anything at all.

I opted for directness. It would seem rude but I had no energy or tact left for any subtlety or charm.

"What do you want?" I put the phone down again and pushed cereal around the bowl and waited and I wanted to know the answer.
 
Straight to the point as always - cold and blunt, and certainly not unexpected. I could have looked at that as the wall she would try to build around herself, to keep her from feeling anything at all.

But not this time. I wasn't going to let her off that easily. It was clear to me that she really didn't know what she wanted, but being close to someone scared her. I felt it was up to me to try and penetrate that hard shell in which she wrapped herself.

So I quickly responded back to her - "I just wanted wish you a good morning, hoping you have a great day. I don't work until midnight tonight - can we grab some coffee together sometime today?

I hesitated before I pushed the send button - was I ready for this? Is this the one I wanted to pursue? Could she ever see past the vast difference in backgrounds and come to like me for just me?

I sent it.....and then I waited, not sure what to expect.
 
I read Joe's message and it interested me. He wanted to go back to this? After before? Did he like the punishment, like the pain? I supposed that I did, I must, on some sick level. I tried to work out if I was up to it and tried and it was hard. I could see him.... after work I could. Coffee couldn't hurt.... I could say sorry again. That might help me to..... move forward, or something. Feel more human. Which would be nice.

I decided I would and that I would also try to be nice or some sort of good imitation of nice.

"Yes, we can do that. How about after I finish work? Sylvia's cafe, do you know it? At 7pm?"
 
When her response pinged on my phone, I read it and was somewhat surprised - for once, it seemed positive, given the fact that she wanted to meet me.

I sent back a quick response - "I know where Sylvia's is, and 7 p.m. would be fine. I'm looking forward to seeing you."

A strange wave of feeling swept over me. It wasn't joy, or dread, which had been following me around lately. It wasn't peace - I wasn't sure there would ever be a time in my life where I could feel complete peace again.

Maybe it was hope - that would be a new one. Hope that some of this misery in which I was wallowing would ease a bit. Maybe coffee with Clarissa would help with that.

Whatever that feeling was, it helped me get back to sleep, as I prepared for my night shift schedule. As my eyes closed, I even managed a smile - something that had been missing in my life....
 
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