THE VIRTUOUS CON

by Maren Foster

  It has to be the perfect moment. At the perfect moment, the touch will come off without a hitch.

  “Wyn, here’s some information about a shelter, in case you need it. I want you to think about going to the police.” She handed me a brochure.

  “They won’t believe me,” I said.

  “Please consider these options. There are wonderful women at that shelter that can help you. They will believe you.”

  I promised to give it some thought and left.

  The next morning on my way home from yoga I saw Julia drive by in her unmistakable red Porsche. She was headed toward town and waved. I waved back, then parked and went straight to Adam’s house. The front door was open and he was laying on the couch in the back sunroom with all the sections of the Sunday paper spread out around him and a coffee stained mug in front of him on the table.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  He ignored me.

  “Hey!” I said.

  He still didn’t look up from the paper. Crap, is he still mad at me about the shower thing?

  I jumped on top of him and started to tickle. “Hey! Don’t be rude!” He cracked, began laughing, and playfully tried to fight back.

  “Stop!” he begged.

  “You know you can’t ignore me for long.”

  “Coffee’s in the kitchen if you want some,” he said.

  I got up. “You want more?” I asked as I walked to the kitchen.

  “No thanks!” he yelled.

  I poured myself a small cup and settled back onto the couch next to him. He’d picked up the paper and started reading again.

  “How’re you?” I asked.

  “I’m okay. How’s work?”

  “I quit.”

  “Oh yeah? Is that good or bad?”

  “I don’t know. Good for now. It’s been nice to be home.”

  “How are things at home? He’s been gone a lot lately, hasn’t he?”

  “Yeah, but probably not more than she has.”

  “True.”

  “We got invited to Candace’s for a party next Saturday.”

  “Really?” He put the newspaper down and looked up.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Just didn’t think that was your kind of thing.”

  “Not sure it is,” I said. “Have you been to one?”

  “Yeah, of course,” he said. “She’s Julia’s friend. Julia said she was curious and wanted to go, just to try it.”

  “Yeah, how was it?”

  “I mean, it’s classy as far as that type of thing goes. If you like that kind of thing.”

  “I take it you don’t?”

  “I mean, I’m not blind or oblivious, but I don’t feel the need to experiment like that either.”

  “Really?” So I wasn’t just another notch in the belt in the shower that night?

  “Well, yeah. I mean it was okay.”

  “Who did you hook up with?” I teased.

  He looked straight at me and shook his head, ‘no’.

  “Oh, come on!” I implored.

  “No way! Not telling.”

  “Why? Is it embarrassing?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “Nope. I don’t think you know her anyhow.”

  Holy shit, he did hook up with someone else!

  I climbed onto the couch next to him. “Fine, but will you come next weekend?” I nearly begged. “For me.”

  “I don’t know. I think we have other plans. Not sure.”

  “It’s just, I was thinking…about that other night, in the shower.” This might not work if Julia isn’t there and she’s probably more likely to go if Adam is going, right?

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I was thinking that the party might be the right time, you know?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. The thought of doing anything with anyone else makes me sick. And I was thinking that Nate can’t be upset if we hook up, since he’s the one who wants to go to the party.”

  Adam nodded.

  “So you’ll go?”

  “I’ll talk to Julia, but I don’t see why we couldn’t go.”

  I smiled and heard the front door. I practically leapt off the couch, and disappeared quietly out the back door. As I closed the door behind me I heard her yelling to him.

  The Convincer

  Thursday, January 25, 2018

  Old Greenwich

  Ali had a business trip to New York mid-week and was going to stop by and stay with us for a night, which I hoped would help get my mind off of Candace’s party. I had spent most of an entire day and a half cleaning the house, in part to impress Ali, and in part because I really didn’t have anything else to do. She let herself in around four-thirty, just as I had settled in for some light meditation.

  “Hey sis!” she exclaimed from down the hall.

  “In the kitchen,” I called back.

  Ali walked in and I stood up to give her a hug. She immediately started in on me. “What the fuck is this?”

  She picked up the adult coloring book I had been working on and flung it across the counter. “You quit your career to sit around and color by numbers like a fourth grader?”

  “Hey, lay off. My therapist said it might be good for my anxiety,” I said, defending one of my guilty pleasures since quitting.

  “Is this really the life you want?” she asked, waving her arms around.

  “What’s wrong with this life?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”

  “Sorry,” I said. I wish it was different but I have no choice. “Welcome,” I continued. “Can I get you a glass of wine or something else? Maybe a Xanax?”

  “Sure,” she said, “…to the wine.”

  I poured two glasses of Merlot.

  When she had settled in, she asked, “So how’s life?”

  “Fine.”

  “Just fine?”

  “Yeah. I mean, Nate’s not here much. It’s a bit lonely, but I’m not complaining. I knew it would be like that when I decided to stay home.”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “We warned you.”

  “You did,” I said, to placate her. I wasn’t in the mood to fight with her for the next few hours.

  “So, are you still satisfied with your choice?”

  “I am. I just need some time to adjust.”

  “Well, take your time. Clearly you’re rediscovering a real talent for coloring.”

  “Ali,” I warned. “It’s just something I’ve been doing to take my mind off other things.”

  “What other things?” she asked. “Like where your husband is and who he’s doing?”

  “Thanks.”

  “I never liked him.”

  “I know,” I said. “…and Soren is so perfect? He works so much he could have another wife somewhere. Maybe a few kids and a white picket fence across the country?”

  “He’s not like that.”

  “How do you know?” I asked. “And why do you assume Soren isn’t but Nate is?”

  “I just know. It’s a feeling.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  I was grateful when she changed the subject.

  We ate a frozen pizza, sipped Merlot, and played grown-up truth or dare, which primarily entailed secret telling, but occasionally, when we were tipsy enough, ended in immature challenges, one of which years ago had seen Ali call a dial-a-prostitute and me order a lovely basket of penis-shaped bachelorette toys and accoutrements online to be shipped to Vi’s house.

  It was my turn and I chose ‘truth’.

  “Do you think Nate’s cheating on you?” Ali asked.

  “Probably,” I conceded. “I saw him in a photo a couple weeks ago on Facebook at some black tie event with another woman,” I said. “He told me he was working late that night.” Ugh, if only I could tell her everything, she wouldn’t think I was such a sucker.

  “Oh my god! Who?”

  “That’s not how this works. You get one question.
It’s my turn.”

  “Do you think Soren has ever stepped out?” I asked.

  “No, honestly I don’t,” she said. “Who?”

  “Julia,” I said.

  “Adam’s wife?”

  “My turn,” I said. “What would you do if you found out Soren was cheating?”

  “Leave. Immediately.”

  “You sure?”

  “My turn,” she said. “You’re in love with Adam, and your husband is fucking his wife! What’s a step above a love triangle? Would that be a love quadrangle or a love rectangle?” She laughed out loud.

  I gave her a stern look.

  She stopped laughing. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why did you say I’m in love with Adam?”

  “Oh come on! I don’t even have to waste a turn on that question to know the truth. That’s been obvious since you were in the sixth grade. I always wondered why you two didn’t end up together.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Yeah, now it is. You’re both married, but living conveniently close to each other. What’s that about?”

  “I don’t know. He and Julia moved in next door after we bought this place.”

  “Strange coincidence, don’t ya think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She looked at me skeptically.

  “How’s mom?” I asked, changing the subject abruptly.

  “You’re gonna waste your next question on that?”

  “That’s not my truth or dare question, I’m just asking.”

  “She’s great.”

  “Is she seeing anyone?”

  “No. Why? Why do you want her to date so badly?” Ali said.

  “I’m just worried that she’ll be lonely. I can’t imagine growing old alone.”

  “Freddie, she’s been alone a long time. Clearly it works for her.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I feel like she’s unhappy alone but something is holding her back.”

  “Maybe that’s her business or maybe you’re just projecting.”

  “I didn’t realize you were a psychiatrist now.” I thought of Vi’s diary but didn’t say anything.

  “I should get ready for bed. I have an early client meeting tomorrow downtown.”

  “Sure. Thanks for coming to visit. It’s always great to see you. And play some truth or dare.”

  I turned on the t.v. The news came on and the lead story was about the hashtag that had been gaining momentum in the wake of the Weinstein accusations.

  “Have you been following this?” Ali asked, standing up to leave.

  “I saw the initial accusations, but I haven’t been following it that closely.”

  “Of course not. Oh my god, it’s incredible!” she said. “I mean, it’s terrible that they were raped, of course, but that these women are going to bring down one of the most powerful men in Hollywood!”

  “Hmmmm.”

  “We’re witnessing the resurgence of Feminism. Isn’t it exciting?”

  “Sure.”

  “You suck! You are such a traitor to our sex,” she said.

  “Guessso.”

  “Well, goodnight. I might not see you tomorrow if you’re not up early. Don’t bother on my account either.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks for letting me stay over,” she said as she put her wine glass in the sink. “Oh, and sorry I gave you so much trouble about the coloring book. I just love you and want you to be happy and healthy and I worry that you’re not right now.”

  If you only knew. “Thanks. I’m fine,” I lied. “Love you too. Night.”

  It was still pretty early, so I made a cup of chamomile tea, went up to bed, and flipped open Vi’s diary.

  March 1, 1989

  Shreveport, Louisiana. Tonight Mom asked me if I had been praying about my situation. I told her it was none of her business. She said that she had been praying about it on my behalf and that He had answered her prayers. She said the answer was that we were already married in God’s eyes when we had “intercourse” (her silly word, not mine!) and that we were just “consummating” our marriage that day. She said that she had already talked to Father Connelly and that he had agreed that the intercourse was the consummation of our marriage in God’s eyes. She even had a marriage certificate with our names on it! Father Connelly had signed it and it was dated November 12, 1988. She said that the only way to redeem myself and my honor was to be married. I asked her how she thought that anyone would believe that we were married in November without a wedding. In this small town there’s no way someone could get married without other people knowing about it. She said that she and Father Connelly had a plan. They would say that we had threatened to elope and so Father Connelly agreed to marry us the very same day in front of our parents. I ripped the fraudulent certificate into pieces and she had a fit. She said that she was trying to save me! If there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I don’t want to be married right now. What I’m not sure about is whether I want to have the baby. I’m scared. I asked some of the older girls at school about an abortion and they said that it’s a sin. I’m not entirely sure what it entails, but it seems like the only way for a pregnant woman to not have a baby. My belly is getting big. I wonder if an abortion is even possible at this point.

  Just as I was starting to fall asleep, I heard the familiar clicks and thuds of kitchen drawers and the refrigerator being opened and closed. Nate’s home. I put Vi’s diary back on the nightstand, rolled over, and fell asleep.

  At some point, early in the morning, I heard the click of the latch on the front door. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

  I woke up to the sound of Nate brushing his teeth and the low winter sun breaching the horizon.

  “Morning,” I yelled from the bed.

  “Morning,” he said as he disappeared into his closet.

  I waited until he came out. “Hey, sorry to bug you about it, but did Jack send you our marriage certificate yet?”

  “No!” he said. “Please stop asking me.”

  Jeez, just figured I’d ask one last time.

  “Hey, don’t forget that party at Candace’s is tomorrow night. Are you still free?”

  “Sure,” he mumbled.

  “I told her we’d be there.”

  “I’ll fucking be there,” he yelled.

  What the hell happened to him?

  “Okay, thanks! Have a good day,” I said, as he headed downstairs.

  I paced around the house most of the day, and made an appointment to have most of my body waxed, just in case. Just in case something finally happens with Adam. It seemed completely inappropriate to show up to a swinger party unkempt. Plus, it was something to do.

  I texted Ali, “Thanks for coming to stay. It was great to see you.”

  I got a pedicure and tried to preoccupy myself with a useless gossip magazine while the woman in the salon worked on my feet.

  I checked my phone. Ali hasn’t responded. That’s odd. She must be busy with work.

  I couldn’t help myself and texted Adam, “Did you talk to Julia about Candace’s party?” I need you to be there!

  Hours later, when I was back at home getting ready to make dinner, Adam replied, “Yeah, she said fine.”

  “So you’ll both be there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great.” This just might work!

  “Is this really how you want it to be?”

  “Not sure what you mean.” Because randomly having sex in my shower is the more romantic option?

  “Never mind.”

  Ali still hadn’t texted back after dinner which wasn’t like her. Maybe she’s still on her flight home. I texted again, “How’d your client meetings go?”

  The Convincer