The Big Idea |

John was relieved to have Jane home after her vacation with Frank. It had been a long and lonely week spent waiting for word from her that didn’t come. After they dropped Frank at his house, she snuggled up to him and threatened him with serious when they got home.

They practically ran to their bedroom, shedding clothes as they went. It was an epic reunion, followed by snacks because John had not shopped and more snuggling. He couldn’t remember being happier.

Jane gave him a summary of the previous week’s activities. They were more prosaic than her encounter with Jezebel, the hairdresser. She had snorkeled, seen a bauxite mine, been to a waterfall in Ocho Rios, and sunned at the beach. And Frank had shown unusual domesticity, buying groceries and cooking meals for them. She found that amusing.

“So you had a good relaxing time and enjoyed yourselves?” John asked.

“Yes, we did, but I missed you. I wish you had been there.” They went to bed and slept entangled but well.

Sunday, John skipped his golf game and they lolled in bed and made love again. Jane seemed especially affectionate and clingy.

He suggested that they have brunch at the club. Several wives commented on Jane’s deep tan and asked where she got it. No one commented on his pallor.

The next several days were paradise for John. It was like a second honeymoon, only better. They waxed nostalgic about their early years together; their first years of poverty while she studied for her nursing degree, their first home purchase, their career progress.

They even talked about her women’s troubles and her hysterectomy, which prevented them from having children. That was the only sad note.

John was so happy at home that he didn’t notice Frank’s absence at work. They worked in different areas of a large company, so it was not uncommon. Frank’s name did not come up at home.

Jane was home to greet John every night and lavished affection on him. Their evenings consisted of comfortable togetherness…and wonderful .

The next Sunday morning, he played golf with his buddies which reminded him of Frank’s Sunday morning visits.  When he got home, he decided to bring the subject up.

“How is Frank these days?  Have you spoken with him?” Her brief hesitation told John that they have been in contact since she got back. He sat beside her on the sofa waiting.

“Yes, we have spoken. He’s not entirely happy with me.” She left it at that, but John pushed on.

“What has him unhappy?” As if he didn’t know.

“He wants more,” she whispered, looking down at her hands in her lap. John took her hand and looked directly at her.

“He just had an entire week with you alone. Isn’t that enough for a while?” She shook her head. “What does he want?”

“He wants me to leave you.” John felt like he had been hit by a sledge hammer. His heart seemed to stop for a bit. Before he could find his voice she squeezed his hand.

“Don’t be alarmed, I could never do that. I told him that what we have had is all that there can be between us. You and I are together forever; we are married.”

When John found his voice he commented, “Plenty of marriages have been dissolved before forever. Are you in love with him?” She was thoughtful.

“John, you know that I am not the kind of woman who sleeps around. I could not have the intense relationship that he and I have shared without developing an affection for him. I don’t love him as I love you, but I care about him very much.”

John felt a deep funk settling over him. “What was going on this last week when it seemed like their love had been rekindled. Was she just humoring him? What is she planning to do with Frank; with him?”

He couldn’t talk about this further. He stood and went to the refrigerator for a beer. Then he left the house, planning to drive somewhere to get his head straight, but he just sat in his car in the garage. “This is the end of my marriage, he thought. The love of my life has moved on.”

After looking for him everywhere, Jane found him still sitting there. She took him by the arm and led him into the house. “John, don’t let this ruin your life. We can make this work; things don’t need to change. I love you and I am not leaving you.”

“What about Frank? Where does he come in?”

“Well, we were hoping that at least you would agree for me to spend an occasional night at his house. You just spent a week alone. Was it so bad?” “We? They have already decided what I should do.” He exploded.

“You’re goddamn right it was bad,” John was shouting now. “Do you have any idea what torture it was to sit here every night hoping that you would at least text me, or maybe call to talk to me? What do you think I was doing while you two were playing house and your brains out every night?” Jane moved away from him.

“OK, please calm down. I realise that it was hard for you; probably it was a mistake. That is why I’m trying to be a good wife to you now. I can’t correct the mistake I made before but I want to make up for as much as I can.” “Yeah, but not without Frank I’d bet.” He went on.

“You know, when I suggested he try to fuck you, I hoped you would learn to relax and have great orgasms; I didn’t think you would become one of his whores. I can’t believe that you let things go this far. Now everything is ruined. What does he have that I don’t? Do you even really have orgasms with me?” He was raving but his use of the W word hurt her deeply. “Am I whore?”

“I’m sorry, John. You do give me orgasms. What would you like me to do? Do you want me to stop seeing him? He’s your friend.”

“He’s not my friend, a friend doesn’t steal your wife. Yes I want you to stop him! Of course, now you have made it clear that you’re in love with him so what kind of life would we have if I asked you to give him up?” Jane did not try to refute his words, making him more upset.

John left and went to the guest bedroom. He dropped his clothes and crawled into bed. He had no energy for dinner or further ranting. He must have dropped off; it was dark when he felt Jane sliding into bed beside him. He moved so that they weren’t touching.

“John, I’m sorry. Please come to bed.”

“I am in bed, I’m hoping you and your bull haven’t soiled this one.” His petulence annoyed even himself.

“OK. At least let me stay here tonight and hold you. Tomorrow is another day. We’ll work it out. If I have to stop seeing Frank, then I will. It’s as simple as that.”

Of course, John knew it wasn’t that simple. He would always be guilty of spoiling her life. She put her arms around him, but he was so rigid that she finally rose and quietly went back to their marriage bed, the one where she had earlier changed out the sheets sticky with Frank’s cum.

At that moment she felt as low as a snake. “What was I thinking when I succumbed to Frank’s overtures; when I agreed to spend a week away with him? John has tried to live with my infidelity but I have gone too far. What selfrespecting husband could be OK with that? Have I really ruined my marriage?” She slept fitfully that night.

John was still in the guest room when she left for work next morning. She left a note saying they would talk at dinner and that she loved him. He never left the bedroom; he couldn’t have worked anyway.

Jane found him watching TV news when she got home. He just nodded to acknowledge her arrival, so she changed out of her scrubs and started dinner. They ate in near total silence. Then she filled their wine glasses and led him to the study sofa.

“I will stop seeing Frank.”

“When?” John couldn’t believe his ears.

“Immediately. I will go see him tonight and tell him.”

“Tell him on the phone.” He knew what was coming next.

“John, that would be cruel and completely inappropriate.”

“Your whole relationship is inappropriate. You just want to fuck him one more time. OK, I’ll call him, will that make it easier for you?”

“No, I’ll do it.” She went to the bedroom to make the call. Thirty minutes later she returned; she had obviously been crying. “It’s done. I’m going to bed.” John didn’t think she wanted company so, after watching some more TV, he went to bed in the guest room again.

The next few days were a study in polite civility around their house. Minimal touching, and conversation. Jane attempted to thaw the mood, but every minute that she was not in his presence, John thought she must be talking with Frank, scheming.

Finally, the culprit himself came to see him at the office and asked him to do lunch.

He apologized profusely for his selfishness, confessing that her loved Jane but that she did not really love him. Their week of pseudodomesticity had made him want her to himself. Surely John could understand; she was so special.

He confessed that they had been together while he was at golf. “But John, forcing her to give up the source of her best ever isn’t going to work in the end. She will resent you more and more as time goes by.” John listened quietly.

“I believe she can love two men, and I accept that you are her first love. But can’t you leave room for me to help make her happy too. Please think about it; now there are three unhappy people where you could make us all friends again.”

His words mirrored John’s own thoughts. He went back to work but couldn’t concentrate, so he went for a walk to clear his mind. At home, during dinner, he looked across at Jane and said, “It’s not going to work is it?”

She replied, “We have been through tough times before; we can do it again if you will forgive me and let me be your wife,” She came to his side and hugged him. “Will you come and let me show you how much I love you?”

They spent the next two weeks reconnecting. They made plans for a summer vacation together and went on with their old normal life. But the was lackluster at best. John became more and more convinced that he didn’t measure up. He became depressed enough that Jane suggested therapy.

John considered it but he didn’t think he could admit the details of the last six months to a stranger. He finally came to the conclusion that Jane should get back with Frank on some basis. Happy wife, happy life, right?

He sat her down and told her that he would be OK with her and Frank having one night per week together. Because he felt guilty, he also thought she could stay overnight with him.

Jane acknowledged that their present situation needed to improve. She tried not to show too much excitement at the new prospect.

John felt he must impose some restraint. “But I do not want him in my house; no more sneaky Sundays, OK? We can try this arrangement and adjust as you and I see fit. As far as I am concerned, Frank is not a part of our life. He will be an unpaid massage therapist who you go to weekly.”

Jane knew that couldn’t work in the long run, but had no option but to accept; their situation was untenable. She would just have to find a way to wean herself from Frank. She was convinced that John would eventually leave her if things didn’t get better.

The next Wednesday at dinner she announced that Frank had called and asked her to come over. “Is that alright with you, John?”

So, Thursday she rushed into the house at six a.m. to change into her scrubs before going to work. She came to the bedside and kissed a sleepy John on the way through. He stayed in bed until she left.

He had spent a restless night while she was away, trying to put a positive light on things. That became the new routine when she went to Frank. She was especially loving with John after each visit and she thought their life seemed better. But rushing home at the crack of dawn to shower and change was playing havoc on everyone, especially her and Frank.

So, when they were at dinner one Monday, Jane suggested that she keep some clothes at Frank’s place and go directly to him after work and directly to work from there the next morning. She neglected to mention that John would be eating dinner alone.

John acquiesced reluctantly, and the next morning, overnight case in hand, she kissed him and said, “I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night. Will you be OK?” He nodded, and off she went.

Jane got home Wednesday after a long, busy day in the ER to a quiet house. John was usually watching the news when she arrived. She looked around and finally found him in bed in the guest room; not a good sign. She called his name, with no response.

She bent to kiss his cheek and wake him; it was cool.  She said his name again and shook his shoulder. Then she looked for a pulse.

After the EMTs had removed John’s body, she wandered the house, remonstrating with herself despondently, “Why did I leave him alone? I knew he wasn’t happy. I wasn’t here when he needed me.”

Then she noticed an unfamiliar prescription bottle in a kitchen cupboard with John’s name on the label. Nitroglycerin pills.