The Adulterer's Unofficial Guide to Family Vacations, A Novel (10 page)

“Alan?”

“Hmmm?” He was smiling at me.

“What is going to happen to us?”

He stopped, turning me to face him, “I don’t know.
You’re worried about it, right?”

I nodded.
I would have done anything not to have said that.

Alan responded by kissing me softly.
A small whimper escaped me.
His lips were so soft, so sweet.

I pushed away from him, “The fantasy will end in four days.”

“Then I suggest,” He moaned softly, reaching for me and pulling me close, “that we make the most of those four days . . . and nights.”

I leaned into his kiss, surrendering my body to his touch, but the voice in my head got louder.
“I agree,” I gasped as he kissed my neck, “but I’m afraid that I’m,” I stopped, pulling away.
How could this be?
I almost told him I was falling in love with him!
The stark reality of it, even though it went unsaid, shocked me as if I had been doused with cold water.

His face clouded over, “afraid that you’re what?”
Alan tightened his grip on me, almost shaking me.
Those once gleaming eyes became dark, “what do you feel right now?”

A raindrop landed on my face, followed by another, then another.
I said nothing.
And yet, that might have spoken louder than words.
I didn’t even notice that a warm rain began to fall, gently at first, becoming heavier with each passing moment of silence.
My clothes were wet, clinging to my body.
I didn’t want to answer him.

Alan looked up at the sky, and then returned his gaze to me.
A kind of sadness seemed to hang in the air between us.

“Laura,” he whispered hoarsely, “Laura, I love you.”

I staggered backwards, feeling the full weight of his words as if struck by a blow.
Alan stood there in the rain, looking at me unapologetically.
He was in pain.

It only took a moment before I closed the gap between us, “I love you too, Alan.”
My arms circled around him, “I love you too.”

We stood in the rain for quite a while, as if the water could wash away the aching fear behind those simple words.
Slowly, we walked back to the waiting limo and climbed inside.
Soaked to the skin, exhausted and spent, we lay in each others’ arms the whole way back to the hotel.
What he was thinking, I do not know.
I can only imagine that, like me, he was also wondering, what now?

Chapter 10

Nick Connelly was so quiet when I first met him that he was almost invisible.
The Dean, on the tour I got my first day of work, warned me that he was shy.
Carol, the department secretary said he was just introverted.
Some of the other faculty thought he was arrogant, an elitist.
I didn’t give him a second glance.

It was a rainy, April afternoon.
I'd spent so much time in my office I was contemplating suicide, so I decided to take a break and hit the cafeteria.
I shook my umbrella and coat and parked them at the door.
After grabbing a cup of coffee and slice of artery-clogging cheesecake, I walked into the hall with my tray.
Only one other person was there.
Nick was sitting alone at a table, a book open on the table, but he was staring out the window at the rain.
I remember thinking,
how very James Dean
.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” I asked.
It seemed absurd that he was the one person in the department I didn’t really know.

“Please,” he smiled and waved toward the chair opposite him.

I held my hand out, “Laura Smith.
And you’re Nick Connelly.
Right?”

He looked amused, shook my hand and nodded, “Nothing gets past you.”
Nick looked at my cheesecake and arched his eyebrow, “A bit decadent, isn’t it?”

“I can resist anything but temptation,” I responded.

Nick laughed, “Oscar Wilde.
An excellent quote.”

“It’s my personal motto,” I replied as I skewered a forkful of cheesecake, “I want it on my tombstone.
I’d like everyone to wonder what I died from.”

Nick laughed softly and that was how our friendship began.
We started out meeting every afternoon in the empty cafeteria, and then branched out into a couple of lunches a week.
It didn’t take me long to realize that he wasn’t shy at all, just quiet.
I became obsessed with our afternoon “teas,” as he called them.
I never missed one.

Chapter 11

The House of Blues was crowded.
Alan excused himself once we found two seats at the bar and I placed my purse in his chair.
A burly bartender delivered my Grey Goose and tonic and I frowned at it.
I was drinking a lot on this trip, much more than I normally did.
While Alan and I weren’t getting bombed every night, it bothered me, just like everything else was beginning to.

On the surface, the trip was going very well.
The kids were having a ball and loved having playmates.
The sex was fantastic, even if I had lost complete control of my senses.
There could be no doubt Alan and I were treading on dangerous territory emotionally and physically.
Was it the danger that made it so appealing?
Did I really love him, or the fantasy?
I certainly enjoyed making love to him.

The vodka was smooth, and I drained the glass.
With a shock, I realized this was the first time I had actually been alone to think since we arrived.
The trip ended in two days.
Sooner or later we would have to resolve this.
But up until now, we hadn’t made any attempts to do so.
We weren’t even talking about it.
And because no one knew about our affair, it was okay for the moment.
Four little faces popped into my head.
Did the kids notice?
They’d been so busy having fun, I didn’t think so.
Alan and I had to find time to talk about this.

“Laura?” My spine turned to wood.
That wasn’t Alan’s voice.
I didn’t respond, just sat there, frozen.
After all, Laura is a pretty common name.

“Laura!
It is you!”
Uh oh.
Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with Terry, Mike’s college roommate.
I had completely forgotten that he lived here.

“Terry?
How are you?”
He gave me a hug that lingered a bit too long, then pulled away.

“I didn’t know you guys were coming down!”
Terry feigned a wounded look, but smiled.
He was very attractive and a close friend of Mike’s.
I couldn’t have been more terrified.
Alan would return any minute and I had no idea how I was going to handle this.

“Well,” I lied easily, “it was kind of a last-minute thing.
And then Mike dropped out, so it’s just me and the kids.”

That was all he needed.
Terry moved my purse and climbed onto the stool beside me, “So you needed a night out?
What did you do?
Call one of those Granny sitters?”
The bartender came by and Terry ordered a beer.
My heart was doing flip flops in my throat.
My body was preparing for fight or flight.
While Mike only talked to Terry once a month, something like this was sure to warrant a call tonight.

“Something like that.”
I drank more vodka in a vain attempt to stall.
Unfortunately, I drained the glass.

“Here,” Terry waved me off, “let me get you another one.”
He turned to get the bartender’s attention and I searched the room frantically for Alan.
If he came over to us, it would merit an explanation and I just couldn’t think of one.
Most likely, Alan would see Terry sitting with me and come over to see if I was alright.
How did I get myself into these situations?

Terry was paying for my drink when I spotted Alan.
Fear rose in my thoughts as I tried to figure out how to signal him.
He was almost a hundred feet away when he realized there was a strange man in his seat.
For a moment, he stopped, frowning, just as Terry turned toward me.
I prayed for time to stand still.
For a fire.
A terrorist attack . . . anything . . .

“Why didn’t you call me?
It would be better than drinking alone.”
Terry smiled and I was glad to see he was kidding.
Alan still stood, frozen, a few feet away.

I leaped up and hugged Terry, laughing, “You’re so sweet, to want to hang out with me!”
Behind Terry’s back, I waved Alan off, hoping he would get the idea.
When I pulled away, I saw him heading to a stool on the other side of Terry.
He acted as though he didn’t know me.
Great.
Just fantastic.
My husband’s friend is ruining my liaison with my lover.
Wait, did I actually think that?

“Didn’t we talk about you guys coming down here last year?”
Terry wasn’t asking why I was here alone, yet.
I still had time to come up with an explanation.

“You know what?
I think we did.” I had to change the subject. “It’s been almost ten years since we’d seen you, right?”
Behind Terry, Alan gave me the “oh that’s it” look.
I could see his shoulders relax.
Mine did too.
He understood and would wait it out.
But how long could I keep this up?

“I still can’t believe you’re down here alone!
And you didn’t call me.
I wonder why Mike didn’t say anything. I would’ve taken care of you and the kids.”
Terry had a dazzling smile.
He was alright.
But this reunion was taking its toll and cutting into my sex life.
How could I get rid of him?

“Hey Laura!
How about I run around the parks with you and the kids tomorrow?
You could probably use the help and I’d love to do it.”
He was sincere, I knew that.
How in the hell would I get out of this one?
Alan looked alarmed.

“That’s ok, Terry.
I met a single mom in the next room and we’ve been hanging out together.
The kids have really become attached and I think I’m helping her out.”
Whew.
Papillion didn’t have this narrow an escape.

Terry looked around, “So, why isn’t she here with you?”
I stalled by draining yet another vodka.
The corners of my brain were getting fuzzy from the sudden intake of so much alcohol.
And yet, more booze seemed like a good idea.

“Well, she’s watching the kids.
I just needed a moment to get away.
And actually, I’ve been here too long already.”
I picked up my purse and made like I was getting ready to leave.
The bartender arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
Fortunately, Terry didn’t see it.

“You probably took a cab here.
Let me give you a ride back on my bike.”
Terry rose, left a tip for the waiter and started to guide me toward the door, his hand on the small of my back.
Now what, genius?
Alan gave me an amused look that seemed to say he was wondering the same thing.

“Um, that’s ok.
Actually, I have a rental car.”
Nice save. I think.
Alan stifled a grin and turned back to his drink.

Terry continued to smile, “Well, at least go for a ride with me on the Harley before you go.”
Alan looked up sharply.
How could I refuse?
If I did, it could come back to haunt me in a big way.
How much harm could come from a ten minute motorcycle ride?

“That sounds great.
Why don’t you bring the bike up while I slip into the ladies’ room, then drop my purse off in the car?”
Alan’s forehead creased.
I couldn’t tell if he was angry or concerned.

Terry laughed, “I’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”
I watched as he walked out the door, and then turned to Alan, shoving my purse into his hands.

He looked blankly at the handbag then at me, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You’re my car.”
My mind was racing – trying to think of a way to get out of it if the trip took longer than I thought.

“Laura, who was that guy?”
Hopefully, he understood I was trapped.

“Mike’s college roommate.”
Alan gave me the “ohhhhhhhh” look, “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“I’ll get out of it after ten minutes.
I’m completely out of ideas or I’d think of an excuse.”
Ten minutes.
Surely that was enough time to think of an excuse.
Right?
I wasn’t really sure.
My brain was twisted with all the lies I’d told in the last five minutes.
It probably wasn’t possible to come up with one more.
Besides – how would I explain to Mike that I refused a bike ride?
Sure it was weird.
But weird was what I had to deal with.

Terry was out front when I got there.
Flashing him a one hundred kilo-watt smile, I climbed on the seat behind him and he pulled out of the parking lot.
It was a lovely night.
Being on the motorcycle should have been a little fun, but I was torn in two.
Terry handled the machine skillfully and took us through some natural, wooded areas I hadn’t seen before.
Ever mindful of the time, after ten minutes, I tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

He surprised me by pulling off the main road, driving straight into the woods.
Instead of stopping, we rode through the trees until we at last came to a quiet lake.
Terry brought the bike to a stop and helped me off.

“Isn’t it beautiful here?”
Terry flashed me a sly grin and started walking ahead of me toward the lake.

I followed with some difficulty.
My ballet flats were not made to cover rocky paths in complete darkness.
“Uh, hey, what are we doing here?”
I caught up to him at the water’s edge.

“I thought you wanted to stop.”
It seemed like a reasonable response.
But what puzzled me was how he got “let’s go to make-out point” from my simple shoulder tap.
I wondered if I shouldn’t look for hidden television cameras in the trees.
Maybe Terry was wearing a wire.

“It’s very nice here.
But what I really meant was,” Terry cut me off, bringing his right index finger to my lips to hush me.
It worked.

“You know,” he began, “it’s been a long time since I’ve been in the company of a beautiful woman.
I just wanted to savor it for a moment.
That’s all.”
I knew he and his fiancé had split up a couple of months ago.
I also knew from our conversations on the phone that he was lonely.
So why did I break out in goose bumps and wonder if he had turned into one of these Florida serial killers?

“Oh.
Well, I can understand that.” But I really couldn’t.
Surely he wasn’t going to hit on me.
Mike told me last year that when I slipped away for a few minutes, Terry had gone on and on about how amazing I looked.
And when I hugged him goodbye, he wouldn’t let me go, joking that it had been too long since he had held a woman.
I remember joking that I would go home with him.
We laughed about that then.
I didn’t feel like laughing now.