Little White Lies

by Paul Watkins

  Long pause, some lip biting followed by a deep breath.

  Her eyes return to me as she continues, “I want you to know what I plan to do if it looks like we will have a relationship of any sort.”

  Her gaze is beginning to feel like a stare while she pauses again, but it’s obvious she’s all business now.

  “I will run a background check on you to make sure you are all you seem to be. But before I do, I will tell you… I want you to have an opportunity to explain any discrepancies that might turn up.”

  I suppose it is my turn to talk, but I think it would be better if I remained silent for a while. Jennifer is not only rich and cautious, she is beautiful and smart and I can’t hate her for any of that. On the other hand, there’s no point in rushing into anything either. We’re a long ways away from any relationship.

  “I know you once implied you did not want to explain how you came to work for A.J.,” she continues, “but at some point I would have to have that resolved. Certainly there doesn’t appear to be anything sinister in your background… but it doesn’t make any sense either.” She smiles again. “Sorry, but that’s the way Iam.”

  ***

  It’s not even ten o’clock, but it’s still much later than I intended to stay at Jennifer’s. She didn’t exactly put any pressure on me to explain how I came to work for the Jacksons, but I figured I might as well fill in the blanks now rather than try to cover my tracks later. After all, the need for secrecy is long since past. Every now and then the truth is easier. However, that’s hardly the problem of the moment right now.

  I leave the car in the garage and head straight for the library bar. It’s certainly not my usual behavior, to have a stiff drink this late in the evening, but I need something, if not a drink then perhaps a lobotomy.

  It looks like the house was buttoned up early this evening. The only light left on in the room is the small desk lamp. Perfect. I don’t need or want a lot of light just now. I pour a couple of ounces of bourbon into a tumbler. I’ll never drink it all, but it’s nice to know it’s there in case I need it. A planned hangover is probably better than one you get by accident.

  I have always believed there is a logical answer to most of life’s problems and I’m sure there’s a logical answer to this one… but it isn’t exactly jumping up and demanding to be heard. Perhaps if I take it a step at a time it will solve itself.

  The place to begin is where I think the problem really lies… Karen. I care a lot for her, but is it love? Perhaps it’s too soon for that. She’s a great girl … we have fun and a lot in common. She’s a knockout and our sex life is more than adequate… make that great. Maybe for me it’s sort of like having a sports car… a hell of a lot of fun, but not very practical.

  So what’s the problem, really? The problem is the same one we have had since day one: she’s too damn young for me… we’re from different worlds. She should be with a younger man.

  Sheri calls this ‘age thing’ my eternal hang-up. Perhaps one reason I can’t get past it is because I’m the oldest guy on the block. Sheri, A.J. and Karen are all of the same generation… no more than a year or two apart. I’m not that much older in some ways, but the difference will always be there… at least for me.

  Okay, bottom line. Does this mean I’m going to stop seeing Karen? Think about it. If it’s going to end, better to do it now rather than later when it will be infinitely more difficult. Wherever I go from here, I have to get this thing out of the way once and for all. If she’s too young now, then she’s going to be too young tomorrow and the day after and the day after that and so on. In other words, that particular problem is not going to go away. I either come to terms with it or end it… and I have to do it sooner rather than later… but not tonight. I’m a man of many parts… and one of those parts is a chicken bone running straight down the middle of my back.

  The whiskey tastes good, but there doesn’t seem to be any magic coming from the glass. A good problem can always survive any amount of drink.

  And speaking of problems: what about Jennifer? She’s totally different from Karen in almost every way. They are both beautiful, but where Karen has the all-American girl good looks… vibrant and sexy; Jennifer has a more classical beauty. Karen is witty. Jennifer appreciates humor and fun, but seldom initiates it. Karen crackles with some sort of energy, not always directed in any particular way. Jennifer is infinite patience and … grace.

  Jennifer has a gentle nature and charm about her. Do I care for her? I think I do, but in a different way. Heck, that’s understandable. Nothing has ever transpired between us other than some time shared in the company of others. Money is not a factor. I have money. Not as much as Jennifer, perhaps, but certainly enough.

  Would it bother me if I never saw Jennifer again? Damn! And how about investigating me? In one sense it bothers me, but I can only imagine her concerns. Rich, beautiful women have to be careful. What the hell… I check people out all the time in business. Is that the way our relationship should begin… like a business?

  “Philip?” Sheri’s petite frame is outlined in the doorway.

  “Hi, Sheri. It’s just me. drinkin’ and thinkin’. You’re welcome to join me if you wish.”

  Sheri walks into the room with small, hesitant steps. It takes a moment for me to realize the problem. Walking in from the lighted foyer, she is momentarily blind.

  “Want some light on the subject?” I reach over and snap on a lamp. “There, that any better?”

  Sure of her footing now, she walks swiftly to the other sofa and sits down across from me, her forearms resting on her knees, hands clasped together… thumbs nervously pushing each other back and forth.

  “What’s going on here? This isn’t like you,” she says, stealing a quick glance at the whiskey glass.

  She seems anxious and ill at ease, as if discovering the real me for the first time.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” I reply following her eyes and aware of what she must be thinking. “It’s nothing serious. I just decided to do some thinking that is probably long overdue.”

  She continues to look at me with concern.

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  I laugh.

  “I’m not sure I should talk about anything with you, Sheri. You have proven to be quite a troublemaker in the past.”

  Sheri ignores the dig and keeps on coming.

  “It’s about Karen and Jennifer, isn’t it?”

  I raise my glass in the air.

  “Bingo! Give the lady a cigar.”

  “Philip, I’m sorry about Friday night,” she exclaims. “We haven’t had a chance to talk. Karen called me and from what she said, I knew there had been a misunderstanding. Sound familiar? She wanted to surprise you… it wasn’t my idea. I just thought things would probably work out if you two got together. Jennifer was not part of the plan. She showed up on her own. Then that fool-husband of mine had to go and make the most of it.”

  She pauses with a look of disgust, which I assume is meant for him. We both look at one another and then give in to smiles.

  “It was pretty funny at times, wasn’t it?” Sheri holds her hand up to her mouth to suppress outright laughter.

  “Depends on your point of view,” I reply. “Unfortunately, A.J. and I have the same definition of what’s funny. It’s stuff that happens to other people. I would like to think I would do the same for him, given the chance.”

  “But that’s the problem. When do we ever get the chance with that devil? Look, let’s not get started on

  A.J.,” she continues, “I want to know about you and Karen.”

  “Sheri, someday that cute little nose of yours is going to get you into trouble.”

  “I’m not nosy,” she says primly, “I just care about you, that’s all. You’re a part of the family and I have a right to know. Bes
ides, how can I help if I don’t know what’s going on?” She rubs the tip of her nose briskly with her forefinger… I suppose to sharpen its senses for the work at hand.

  I am certain my face does not adequately portray my skepticism. There’s no way it could. Sheri loves a love story and she wants no secrets if she can’t be in on them.

  “Well it really doesn’t make much difference. I guess there was a misunderstanding between us. You remember the letter I told you about?”

  Sheri nods.

  “That’s when it all started. We really haven’t talked about it, but I guess she figures things are the same as they were before she left. And maybe they would be, except now there’s a new wrinkle.”

  “What new wrinkle?”

  “Jennifer informed me tonight about her concern: now that she’s aware of Karen, she thinks I won’t see her anymore.”

  “Has something happened between you two?” she asks, trying not to sound too eager.

  “That’s just it… absolutely nothing. No words, no deeds. This is all out of the blue, Sheri. But the strange part of this is… I think it’s out of the blue for her, too.

  She said she did not know how she felt about me until she saw Karen. Don’t get me wrong. she’s not in love or anything like that. She would simply like to see where things might go, given the chance. Tonight she asked me how I felt about giving us that chance.”

  “Phil, you sly dog,” Sheri laughs, shoulders hunched, fists clenched, a look of absolute delight on her kisser.

  I cut her off.

  “Don’t start, Sheri. I had nothing to do with any of this. I’m a victim, practically a bystander. and an innocent one at that.”

  My plea has no effect on her. She’s enjoying this mess to the hilt.

  “I know this isn’t funny,” I continue, “but I suppose I can see where it’s sort of amusing… if there’s a difference.” I rub my eyes. “Jesus, I’m tired. This thing would probably be a lot funnier if it were not happening to me.

  Sheri gives me a look of deep concern and sympathy. Here it comes.

  “Poor, Philip. All these beautiful women want to drag you off to bed and jump all over your tired old bones. Don’t expect too much pity down at the pool hall. You might be disappointed.”

  The irony of the situation is obvious.

  “Talk about feast and famine. I have been celibate. A paragon of virtue.”

  Although I say this with all the dignity I can muster, I don’t seem to make any significant impression on the present company.

  “My how the mighty have fallen,” she intones piously. “Okay, enough!”

  She instantly switches gears. Must have gotten too close to real pity.

  “Tell me what you’re going to do. I won’t sleep tonight as it is. This is so exciting.”

  She claps her hands and gives a mini-stomp with her feet.

  “Why don’t we write everything down? We could make a TV show out of it.”

  Trouble is, she might mean it. Hell, I know she means it. Accurately inferring my total lack of amusement in reaction to her last statement, she takes another tack.

  “Okay, I’ll be serious. But you must promise, you have to tell me everything. Everything! You understand?”

  “Absolutely not!” I state emphatically. “I should not have told you anything as it is. I had this crazy notion you might help. Instead, all I have managed to do is feed your insatiable prurient interest. You’re beyond all hope.”

  “You can’t cut me off now!” she pleads with outstretched hands, a gesture that would do justice to a drug addict… or a love junky. “How can I help you if I don’t know what’s going on?”

  It’s a reasonable position, perhaps, but still unacceptable.

  “I guess you can’t,” I reply, getting off the sofa.

  I walk to the bar and pour out the remainder of the drink, which is most of it. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me… confiding in Sheri of all people. I ought to go to a head mechanic for a tune-up.

  “I’m going to turn in, Sheri. Sweet dreams.”

  At least I accomplished one thing tonight… now I’m not the only one frustrated by this all thisnonsense.

  ***

  “Hi, Philip, what’s going on in your world?” And before I can answer, “How about coming into the city tonight? We could have dinner and spend a nice quiet evening at home.”

  “I’d love to, but I can’t do it tonight, Karen,” I reply. “A.J. had to delay his departure for a day. We have some problems and we have to get them resolved forthwith. It’s not going to take a lot of time, but we have to be sure to get it out of the way tonight so he can get out of here.”

  “Okay, why don’t you have your meeting and then come in later?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to commit right now in case we need more time. We have to finish this tonight. I’d hate to have you waiting for me and then have to cancel because this thing runs over. How about tomorrow?”

  “I’m busy tomorrow and the next night.”

  “Then let’s make it later in the week or even on the weekend… or I can call you later tonight as soon as I know what’s happening.”

  Long silence. I figure she’s checking her schedule, but her next comment tells me I’m wrong.

  “Look, Philip, I have things to do, too. You’re not the only one with a job. Why can’t you rearrange your schedule to suit me for a change? I’ve certainly done my share in that regard for you.”

  Her tone of voice is absolutely dripping with acid. How in the hell have we come to this? A few days ago I did not think I would ever see Karen again. Then she returns and acts as though she never left. Now we’re having a battle because I have some business problems. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Dammit!

  “Look, I know things haven’t been easy recently, but we simply have some things that need attention right now. It’s bad timing, that’s all. Don’t characterize it as a matter of who or what is more important. A.J. has delayed his departure in order to get this stuff out of the way. It might be over in an hour… or it might take considerably longer. The trouble is, I don’t know.

  “I can’t commit to coming into the city until this situation is under control. It’s not as though I’m canceling out on something that has been scheduled for days or weeks. You just called to see if we could get together. Unfortunately it turns out I may have some problems. Why make more out of it than there is?”

  “It sounds like you and Jennifer had plenty of time for each other when I was gone. Why don’t you pretend you’re making arrangements to be with her and just substitute my name in place of hers. I’ll bet that would work.”

  “Come on, Karen. This whole thing is getting rather childish. We have a scheduling problem, pure and simple. We… “

  “Forget I called, Philip. Good-bye.”

  And that’s the name of that tune… a dial tone. Karen has never acted like this before and I can’t imagine what’s driving her now. I know I shouldn’t react this way, but this kind of thing drives me crazy. Pissed-off crazy. Disgusted crazy. It seems one minute everything is fine and the next minute we have a problem of universal proportions. I can’t stand this constant emotional flux… it’s driving me over the centerline!

  The ringing telephone has to be Karen. She cooled down faster than I thought she would. Thirty seconds has to be a record. She probably sees how ridiculous this whole thing is.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Philip, it’s Jennifer.”

  I wonder if these lines are tapped. It’s a good thing A.J. isn’t tuned in to what’s going on right now. He would be having the time of his demented life. Or, things could be slow in heaven and God is just having some fun swatting me around. I’m sure there’s an answer, but probably none as rational as
those I have come up with so far.

  “Hi, Jennifer.”

  I must sound like an inmate at the asylum who needs eighty milligrams instead of the standard twenty.

  “I called to see if you guys would like to come over and have a drink or whatever. You know how I hate to eat alone.”

  “Jennifer, I’m afraid we have some things that need to be addressed right now. A.J. had to delay his trip. We would like to have them resolved this evening. We’re getting together again in a few minutes and there’s no telling when we’ll be finished. With a little luck it shouldn’t take much more than an hour. Afterwards, he will be leaving. I don’t know what Sheri’s plans are… if you like, I can check with her and call you right back.”

  “Sounds good. If it will make things easier, I’m willing to come over there… if I’m invited that is.”

  She laughs and rings off. Before I can page Sheri, there’s a soft knock on the door.

  Sheri pokes her head in and asks, “What are you up to tonight? I assume A.J. will leave before dinner.”

  Am I the only one around here who isn’t clairvoyant? I tell her about Jennifer’s call and offer, along with her willingness to join us here. Sheri prefers here because she has just given Mary the evening off and she wants to stay home with the kids. Martha’s had a long day and Sheri doesn’t want to ask her to watch them at this hour.

  I call Jennifer to relay the information: our place around six-thirty or seven. We can always play with the time if A.J. and I run over, or she and Sheri can eat together and if necessary I’ll catch up with them later.

  “That’s fine,” she replies. “One more favor. Would you be willing to pick me up if you finish on schedule?

  That would give us a little more time together. You see, I’m always plotting and scheming.”

  “Of course. I should have offered. I will call you as soon as we’re finished here. Otherwise, if you don’t hear from me, just come over around six-thirty.”

  We say our good-byes and hang up. I can’t help but think how ironic it is that I have just done what Karen accused me of a few moments earlier. Of course there are differences and I could explain them, but somehow I don’t think I would find a friendly listener in Karen. I know I sure as hell don’t want to try to explainit to A.J.