Excerpts

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter 1

Karen steadied herself against the mahogany fireplace mantel lined with smiling faces captured at family gatherings. There was also a dusty Bible that had been received as a wedding gift eighteen years ago and a few other favorite trinkets collected from countless vacations including the annual trip to Martha's Vineyard.

Head titled down and eyes closed, she started from the center of her forehead and repeatedly spread her thumb and index finger forcefully slow across her brow like a butterfly struggling to stay in flight.
"Oh, God. Please help me."

Feeling a moment of relief, she meandered to the window, which was squeaky clean as far up as a step-ladder-assisted arm could reach. Beyond the beds of spring tulips, Karen could see their dog running around and around the sprawling well-manicured backyard. Going in circles wasn't a question of if, only a matter of when. She envied that the only dilemma their dog had was whether to chase his tail now or later. She stared into the evening wondering where the week had gone and how late her husband would get home this time.

"Mom, Dr. Costas is on the phone!"
Karen heard the teen yelling from upstairs. It was occasions like this when she regretted forgoing the intercom package eight years ago when they had the home built. She made her way back across the family room to take the call. She slipped into her favorite chaise lounge and picked up the phone that was resting on the marble end table. She didn't bother to return the scream with a thank you. "I got it Chelle-baby. You can put the phone down now. Thank you."
"Hi, Karen. Dr. Costas here. I got a message that you called. What's going on?"
"I've had a throbbing headache for the past few days. Nothing major."
"Hmmm"
"I didn't want to take any kind of medication without checking with you first."
"That's good. Under normal conditions, it would be fine, but we've come a long ways. It's been a tough fight and we don't want any setbacks in your remission."
"I know."

"Do you have any nausea or any problems with your bowels?"
"No. No fever, no fatigue, no chills either."
Karen knew the routine list of questions that Dr. Costas asked whenever there was potential trouble brewing. Each time Karen got sick, she didn't find it any easier. She wanted to be brave in facing her health challenges, but found herself more often afraid. She couldn't decide which was worse, knowing or not knowing.
"Good. There doesn't seem to be any need for alarm. Why don't you take a simple over-the-counter pain reliever, something like Extra Strength Tylenol? Let's try that first. If the headache persists, give me another call in a few days, and we'll get you in for a look. Karen, it's also going to be important that you keep your stress level down. Remember pressure really seems to take a toll on you and we don't want to wear your immune system down. So, take some time to relax over the weekend. That's the best medicine I can prescribe for you right now. Okay."
"That's fine. Thanks, doctor."

The phone rang as Karen put it down. Caught off guard by the incoming call, she put the phone up to her ear to see who was on the line.
"Hey, Karen." A deep, authoritative voice greeted her.
"Oh, Johnny, it's you,"

"Why! Who were you expecting it to be?"
Karen knew he wasn't really looking for an answer. She kept quiet.
"What a way to answer the phone. You answer it like one of the kids."

Early in his career he'd spent seven years as a production line supervisor before getting promoted to senior management. Barking out orders at work carried over into his personal life. Karen heard Johnny loud and clear, internalized his comment, and opted to say nothing in her own defense. His personality didn't accommodate timidity or shortcomings in others.

"I just got off the phone with Dr. Costas. She told me to take some Tylenol for my headache."
"Tylenol! That's it? See you should have taken the pain pills like I suggested a few days ago. You would have been over it by now."

"I didn't want to take anything without talking to the doctor, Johnny."
"No, you'd rather sit around and whine."
"The doctor's job is to give me medical advice. It's not like either of us went to medical school," Karen snapped.

"You don't have to go to med school to know you should take a pain killer when you have a headache. That's basic common sense. Not everything has to be dramatic, Karen."
She cut in and tried to change the subject. "Well, could you stop by the pharmacy on your way home and pick up some Extra-Strength Tylenol for me?"

"I wasn't planning to come straight home. I'm going to make a quick stop, and I'll be in later."
"Later!" Karen sighed. She hesitated before voicing her frustration.
"What's the big deal, Karen? I asked Tyrone to meet me at Floods for a hot minute."
Silence fell over the line.

Karen hadn't been fond of Tyrone years ago, back when she saw him as a partying bachelor who had been married and divorced several times with no intent to settle down. Those were the times when she had viewed him as a bad influence on her husband. She knew the truth was that Johnny's strong personality didn't allow anyone too much influence into his life. He made up his own mind. Yet, she found it more comfortable to blame her marital issues on outside factors. So long as it wasn't her fault, she didn't have to take responsibility for fixing it.

"What about the card game?"
"What card game?"
"The one the Burks are having."
Karen knew that she didn't feel up to going, but if that's what it took to get Johnny home, she was willing to go along.
"Oh yeah, okay, the couple from your church. You didn't tell me anything about a card game."
Karen knew that telling him in advance would not have made a difference. Friday was turning out to be his night, and nothing interfered.
"I already have plans. Why don't you go on without me?"
"Why do I always have to go without you? Why can't you just come home after work on Friday, for a change?"

"There you go. I try to be considerate and let you know where I'm going. This is the thanks I get. You make a big deal out of my taking a few hours every now and then to wind down."
"Every now and then? You've been doing this every Friday night for the past three months."
"See, you're exaggerating. It hasn't been that long."

"Oh yes it has. It started right after New Year's, right after I closed the business."
She realized that it was still a sore topic with Johnny and didn't expect him to acknowledge the truth, but his silence was confirmation enough. He hadn't agreed with her decision to quit. Her interior decorating business was doing well, but she felt that it had become too stressful managing a household, children, her health and a career. Despite Johnny's disapproval, she closed her business in hopes of finding something less demanding. So far nothing promising had come along.
Before, you only went out once every couple of months. That was fine."

"No it wasn't. You complained about that too."
"It was better than this. I'm here alone every Friday night."
"You're not alone. The girls are there."

"You know what I mean, Johnny. You're hanging out every Friday night is not fair to me."
"You're talking about fair! Don't I work hard all week, take care of the bills, and take care of you and the kids? Remember that I don't have all week to relax like you. Somebody has to work."
He took a deep breath.

"I can't believe you won't allow me to have a few hours to hang out without breathing down my neck with this guilt trip. I mean, it's not like I'm doing anything out here. I don't press you about going to church so much. Why do you always have something to say about the little bit of time that I take out for myself!"

"I'm sorry, Johnny. I was just hoping we could do something together." A whisper was all she could manage. Eyes closed tightly, she pressed her forefinger against one temple to alleviate the pain.
"If you're really serious about doing something together, I have a few ideas."
Karen suspected that Johnny was talking about sex and wanted to avoid the topic. "Well, I'm tired and I don't really feel up to doing too much."

"That's what I thought. Look, I've already made a commitment for this evening, but we can do something tomorrow. Maybe I'll even go to church with you Sunday."
"Fine Johnny."

Yet again, Karen had stirred the pot of emotions. She tried to perk up and get past her disappointment. She was feeling less and less guilty about questioning his time out. She wanted to trust Johnny but didn't know how. Doubting had become a natural state of being. He hadn't made it any easier.
Karen rested her eyes, pulled her knees into a tight fetal position and allowed her thoughts, fears and insecurities to drift away. For a fleeting moment, she was free.

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Chapter 2

Johnny could still turn the heads of women when he walked into a room. His six-foot-two silhouette stood in the arched doorway of the large banquet room. He kept his slightly graying hair short to draw attention away from his balding. He no longer had the trim body he sported in college. Over the years, extra pounds had taken up residency in his physique. His age had started showing, but his handsome demeanor was still winning out.

Dim lighting, stimulating music, a few appetizers, and a stiff drink was just the right mix to set Johnny's evening into motion. Floods was known for attracting a professionally dressed and diverse after-work crowd.

The self-confidence, sometimes mistaken for arrogance, often oozed out of Johnny whenever he entered a room. Tonight was no different. Sporting a camel colored, double-breasted suit rounded out any rough edges in his appearance. Normally, Friday was casual day at Tennin's Automotive, where Johnny was executive vice president of manufacturing and plant manager of the metal products division. No casual clothes for him. Although he neglected to share his plans with Karen, Johnny knew early in the morning that he was stopping by his favorite hangout after work and opted to dress the part.
He eased into the room like a warm knife slicing butter. There was the usual happy hour crowd in the place. Johnny had been coming to this club for over eleven years, with more frequency in recent months. He knew all of the regulars and was on automatic alert for the newbys, which was his term for new faces in the place.

Floods was one place Johnny was glad Karen chose not to frequent. Her presence at his favorite nightspot would cripple his ability to flirt with the women the way he liked.
Standing next to the bar was Johnny's friend, Tyrone. Johnny made his way through the crowded room and approached the bar.

"Hey, what's up, buddy?"
The two clasped hands, pulled into one another's chest and did their secret shake.
"You got it, chief," Tyrone responded between cigarette drags.
Tyrone still used the nickname he'd given Johnny at the onset of their friendship twenty-two years ago to reflect his take-charge attitude. They had initially met in college, pledged the same fraternity and ended up in the same city ten years later. IBM had relocated Tyrone many times. The two had lost contact during Tyrone's frequent moves. But they both ended up in Detroit and unexpectedly ran into one another at Floods nearly ten years ago.

The two leaned on the bar and Johnny scoped the room.
"It's crowded in here." Tyrone took another drag on his cigarette.
Johnny spotted two empty seats through the crowd. "There are a couple of seats over there, right next to those honeys."
Tyrone hadn't noticed and said to Johnny, "I don't mind sitting here at the bar." The club scene wasn't Tyrone's thing anymore. There was a time in his past when he could have settled in comfortably during an evening out. He had matured beyond his rambunctious twenties and thirties and had stopped chasing women after marrying Connie.

"Nah, come on, man. Let's ease on over. It won't hurt anything. It's just a little conversation with a couple of nice-looking ladies. It's not like we're trying to start a serious relationship with them. Come on man."

Tyrone sighed and without much more resistance followed his friend towards a table in the middle of the room.
The two men casually strolled towards the young women.
"Good evening, ladies."
The women acknowledged them with a simple greeting.
"We noticed the empty seats. Do you mind if we sit with you?" Johnny asked.
While waiting for the okay to join the women, Johnny checked their ring fingers. He knew married men didn't always wear wedding bands, but women were more likely to wear them. There was no guarantee with men like himself.
"Not at all."

"I'm Johnny, and this is Tyrone." Johnny patted his friend on the back. Noticing their empty glasses, Johnny asked, "Can we get you another drink?"
The two ladies declined.

Unlike Johnny, Tyrone wasn't interested in sitting down for a warm and fuzzy get-to-know you conversation with the two ladies. He wanted to keep the encounter impersonal.
"Hey look, I'm heading back over to the bar to pick up the pack of cigarettes that I left over there. Can I get anyone anything?" Tyrone asked.

One of the young ladies said, "I could use a cigarette. I'll walk over with you."
Tyrone wasn't expecting any company on his short trip to the bar. He was willing to let Johnny entertain both women. He politely led the way, through the crowd, to the bar, unable to make a clean break.
Johnny eyed the woman as she left the table. Her switching hips moved like sand being sifted from one hand to the other. He remembered how much of a hip-man his friend used to be. Johnny found full-busted women a bit more attractive, which was why his acceptance of Karen's mastectomy two years ago had been such a surprise to himself.

Johnny was left at the table with the other lady. He was not shy about starting up a conversation.
"You work around here, uh…?" He waited for her to give a name.
"Isabelle"
"What did you say?" Johnny wasn't sure if he heard her correctly.
"My name is Isabelle."
Johnny leaned back in his seat and exhibited some discomfort. He picked up the book of matches from the center of the small table and twirled them between his fingers.
Isabelle noticed his behavior and asked, "What's wrong?"
He placed his elbow on the arm of the chair and covered his mouth for a moment.
"Oh nothing really," he chuckled. "It's just your name, Isabelle. I had a close friend once named Isabelle. It's not a very common name. As a matter of fact, you're only the second person that I've met named Isabelle."
"I hope that's good."
"Could be," Johnny flirted. "So, do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Do you work around here?"
"Not too far away."

Johnny stirred the small red straw in his drink, and said, "I haven't seen you here before."
"I don't come here often."
Bingo, he'd found a newby. They were his preference, the ones who presented a lower probability of knowing his routine flirtatious behavior. He was hoping Isabelle wasn't going to ask about his marital status too early in the conversation. If necessary, he was ready with the 'I'm-just-looking-for-a-friend-and-this-doesn't-have-anything-to-do-with-my-marriage line'.
"Can I get you another drink?"
"Sure."

Johnny motioned for the cocktail waitress. He lightly placed his hand on Isabelle's hand. "What are you drinking?"
"Strawberry Daiquiri."
"And I'll take a shot of Hennessey, straight up."
The waitress scribbled the order on a napkin and left.
Johnny leaned back in the chair and rested his wrist on the table and gazed into Isabelle's eyes. She looked away before her smile completely manifested.

"So, if you don't come here much, what does a beautiful woman like you do for fun?"
Isabelle blushed from the compliment, giving Johnny the impression that she was easily flattered. That's when Johnny knew he had her. He felt safe with Isabelle, figuring that it was highly unlikely that she knew his wife since Karen didn't frequent the club and Isabelle didn't get out much. It would be easy to work his magic. All of the indicators pointed to an easy rendezvous without fear of being caught cheating.

"I like to read."
Johnny was on alert. His game seemed to work best with a married woman or a pure party girl who was looking for fun without commitment. The 'nice, goody-two-shoes type' was too dangerous. Johnny didn't want to kickoff a fatal attraction with a single, available, and searching woman. He wanted companionship without any strings attached. A shred of a good time away from his pressures was all he needed. He wasn't looking for a wife seeing that he already had one of those at home. Isabelle was a red flag, but something about the game drew him in. There was still the possibility that she was married. He had to find out.

"Do you and your husband come here a lot?"
"Not now, but we used to come here."
Ah, Johnny thought, she is married. The hot and heavy pursuit was back on.
The waitress placed a small napkin in front of Johnny and Isabelle. She plopped the drinks down and asked for ten dollars. He pulled a $50 bill from his pocket and placed it on the waitress' small round tray. Tipping and spending was all part of the player's M.O. Johnny had to look good from all angles, fine suit, clean cut, sharp car, and fat dollar-filled pockets.
"Keep five for yourself."
"Thanks."

Charm had top billing in his deliberate approach. Johnny took time to lay his trap. Now it was time to go in for the thrill.
"How can your husband let someone as beautiful as you come out by yourself?"
Johnny relied on his standard line since it was quite effective in determining the condition of a potential candidate's marital relationship.
"My husband and I are separated."
Jackpot! Experience led Johnny to believe that separated generally meant unavailable for a long-term relationship but suitable for short-term get-togethers. It was easy to take the game home from here.
"Ah, that's too bad," Johnny said. "I know how that goes."
"Why, you separated, too?"
"I guess you could say so. My wife and I have some differences. We mostly stay together for the kids. I do my thing, and she does hers."
He had already tested Isabelle's morality by exposing his marriage and letting the chips fall as they might. Even though he was married, she was still interested. Just the kind Johnny liked. The kind who knew he was unfaithful and liked him anyway.
"How many kids do you have?" she asked.
"Three".

He held his head down and stirred his drink again. As much of a ladies man as he professed to be, questions about his children often penetrated his steel exterior. He was uninhibited when talking about Karen, but discussing his kids with another woman somehow felt wrong.

Tyrone had given the other woman no cause to hang around. He was sitting at the bar alone. He glanced at his watch and realized it was already a quarter to eight. He made eye contact with Johnny, who was knee-deep into flirting with Isabelle. Tyrone held up his wrist and pointed to his watch several times. He didn't mind meeting Johnny for a drink from time to time but always knew when it was time to go home.
Johnny got the message. "It's getting late. I'm going to head home. Can I give you a ride?" He stood up and re-buttoned his double-breasted jacket.

"If you don't mind? I live off the Lodge Expressway," Isabelle told him.
"No problem. I'm going that way. Tyrone, I'm heading out, man. I'm giving Isabelle a ride."
"All right, chief. I'll catch you later."

Tyrone gave Johnny a look like, yeah partner, you better be careful.
Heading for the door, Johnny helped Isabelle put on her jacket.
Outside, he pulled the parking ticket from his pants pocket and handed it to the valet.
Isabelle's eyes widened as the car approached.
He peeled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket as the valet attendant drove the new Cadillac up to the curb.
He walked around to the passenger's side of the car and opened the door for Isabelle. He hadn't opened the door for Karen in ten years, but then she wasn't someone he had to impress.
"Hi, Johnny," a soft voice echoed from over his shoulder.
He turned to see who it was.

"Tina!" He went cold on the inside, but struggled to maintain his composure. Of all the people he could have run into, Johnny was wondering why it had to be Ms. Motor Mouth. Karen's nosey friend was the last person he wanted to see.
Tina flashed a cunning smile, knowing Johnny was caught in the act. She had him right where she wanted, squirming.
"How's Karen?" Tina asked while getting a good look at the lady sitting in her girlfriend's car.
He closed the door and walked towards the driver's side of the car. "She's fine."
"Tell her I said hello." Tina walked past the car and without looking back said, "No, better yet, I'll just call her myself."
"Will do." Johnny hopped into the car. He drove away as quickly and with as little drama as possible.
The twenty-minute drive was filled with small talk and moments of complete silence. The unexpected run-in with Tina had put a damper on Johnny's playboy routine.
He pulled up to Isabelle's house without much enthusiasm.
"I'll give you my number," Isabelle offered.

She took a small piece of paper from her purse and wrote her home number on it.
Johnny took it, glanced over the writin
g, and shoved it into his pocket. Glancing away from her eyes, he said, "It's been nice meeting you."
He didn't want to give Isabelle his pager number. But any other number was out of the question. He rattled off his number with the last two digits transposed. If he ever ran into her again, he could claim she wrote the number down incorrectly. For now, it was better to minimize contact.
Johnny and Karen's sexual connection repeatedly deteriorated after her cancer recoveries. Her doctor's had confirmed that there was no physical limitation. Johnny chalked it up to lack of interest on her part. Instead of trying to figure out how to rekindle the eighteen-year marriage, he found ways to survive.
He wasn't interested in developing a relationship. The women he pursued at the club were mostly for the thrill of the hunt and on occasion went further during times when Karen had unofficially declared a sexual sabbatical. He liked playing the player's game from time to time. It did wonders for his ego.
Turning forty had been traumatic for him, although he wouldn't openly admit it. He had purchased a Porsche to stroke his aging ego. He rarely got an opportunity to drive the sports car being that he was an executive working for an American auto supplier. He was expected to drive domestic vehicles. Still, Johnny got the car as an attempt to restore his youth. A man his size could barely get in and out of the car, but it suited him.

As soon as Isabelle got out of the car, he pulled off without extending any extra courtesies. Three blocks down the road, he was back in husband mode.
"Ooh," he blurted. He had neglected to schedule the home appraisal. His palm covered his mouth and fingers scraped his chin. How could he have forgotten something so important? Finding a way to relieve the financial pressure was crucial with Karen out of work. Refinancing seemed to be the only answer. Most of their emergency money was gone, and his retirement plan was not an option. They had already tapped that enough. A few of the other homes in their suburban neighborhood had sold for well over four hundred thousand dollars. He was hoping that there was some equity left from the previous refinancing. They got fifty thousand out four years ago when Karen first got sick and was off work for months without warning. Two years ago all they could get was another forty to help out while she was laid up. He needed enough to cover the next three to six months, plenty of time for Karen to get back on her feet.
Johnny sat at the stop sign, turned on his cell phone and dialed home to see if Karen still needed him to stop by the pharmacy and pick up anything. His best hope was that Tina hadn't told Karen about his escapade at Floods.

Karen answered the phone to hear Johnny on the other end.
"Hey, I'm on my way home."
"It's about time!"
"I told you I was going to be out."
"If I'd known you were going to take this long, I would have gotten the Tylenol myself."
"Look, I'm tired and your nagging is really starting to get on my nerves."
"Well, I'm sorry Johnny, but I deserve a little more consideration."
"I'll be there when I get there. Bye." Beep went the sound of the disconnecting cell phone.
Johnny was feeling the weight of running a plant and a household. He was doing the best he could. The only gratitude he got from Karen was suspicions and constant badgering. He thought more and more about what he'd been working for? He didn't want to give up living the American dream, but Johnny felt the installments were becoming too difficult to keep up. Something was going to have to give and soon.
"Johnny, Johnny!"
Karen heard the dial tone and put the receiver on the hook. When the phone rang again, she grabbed it.
"Johnny."
"No, it's not Johnny. This is Tina, Karen. How you doing?"