Evidence of Love

by John Bloom

  “Why do we need something like that?” she said. “I have so much to do already.”

  It was true. That was part of the problem. Betty was teaching and taking a graduate course at night and taking care of Alisa and now she was pregnant again. She had time for everything except talking, and that bothered Allan. Allan was not nearly so secure and content as Betty seemed to be, now that he had stopped traveling. The very thing that made her so happy made him more than a little resentful. Yet he never brought it up. He didn’t have the right words, and he feared doing something else to disturb Betty.

  “You don’t think there’s something wrong with us, do you?” she had said when he brought up Marriage Encounter.

  He could tell she would be upset if he told her yes, and so he dropped the subject.

  It was Candy Montgomery’s twenty-ninth birthday, but the highlight of her day was a phone call that came completely out of the blue.

  “Hi, this is Allan.”

  “Allan!” He had never called on a weekday before.

  “I have to go to McKinney tomorrow to get some tires checked on the new truck I bought up there. I wondered if you’d like to have lunch. You know, to talk a little more about what we talked about before.”

  “Okay, fine. Where do you want to meet?”

  It had been two or three weeks since the last time they had talked, on the parking lot outside the gym. They hadn’t been easy weeks for her. She felt entirely foolish after virtually throwing herself at him and then being so calmly rejected. Besides being embarrassed, she was afraid it would make Allan think less of her. She would have liked to put the whole incident out of her mind, and the only reason she couldn’t was the kiss. If Allan were so dead set against the idea, why had he given her that enigmatic kiss on the lips just before he left? It was not what she would call a passionate kiss, but it was not a brotherly kiss either. It didn’t help Candy’s peace of mind, either, that she and Pat had been arguing more than usual lately. She had brought home some A + papers from the English class she was enrolled in, but all Pat would do is glance at them and pretend to understand. His insensitivity infuriated her, and led to harsh words. To Pat they were arguments over “nothing,” but to her they represented everything wrong with their marriage. Now, after Allan’s call, her old optimism started to return and she allowed herself to fantasize again about what it might be like, even once, with another man.

  They met on November 16, at an auto repair shop in McKinney, the venerable county seat a few miles north of Candy’s house. Allan broke the ice right away by surprising her with a birthday card. On the front it read “For the Last of the Red Hot Lovers.” She opened it to find a small plastic bag of Red Hots inside. It was the kind of hokey gag card that Candy loved, and she was instantly touched. They got into her car and drove to a quaint little teahouse, where they talked about everything except themselves for the better part of an hour. Allan talked about Betty. Candy talked about Pat. They compared notes on their children, chatted about church matters. Jackie Ponder’s decision to go to Wichita Falls was on both their minds, and they spoke sadly of what might happen to the church once she was gone. Candy got Allan to talk about his work for a while, and he in turn seemed interested when she discussed her creative writing course. Then, after the meal was cleared away and they began to sip their coffee, Allan said, “I’ve never done anything like an affair before.”

  “I haven’t either,” said Candy.

  “I would never be able to forgive myself if Betty ever found out about something like that. I think it would just be devastating to her.”

  “I feel the same way. I wouldn’t want to see anyone hurt by this. Pat or Betty. We would have to be so careful that no one would ever know except us.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, about not wanting to get emotionally involved. That would be very important for me.”

  “Me, too, Allan. I just want to enjoy myself without hurting myself or anyone else.”

  “Well, let’s think about it some more and maybe we should think about the hazards some more and whether we want to take that risk.”

  “Fine. I think we should.”

  Little else was said that day, but within a week Allan called Candy again while Pat was at work. They chatted more about the risks of having an affair, their fears of doing something that would ruin their marriages. But they also talked about their mutual attractions, and were obviously excited by the prospect of a secret tryst.

  “You know, if you don’t go to bed with me pretty soon, Allan, then you’ll never be able to live up to the expectation I have of you in bed.” Candy giggled.

  “I know,” he said, not laughing. “I’ve thought of that.”

  The next month consisted of strategy sessions for what must have been the most meticulously planned love affair in the history of romance. It began with tentative phone calls from Allan, asking about this or that. “When would we do it?” “What if somebody saw us?” Soon after the lunch at the teahouse in McKinney, they arranged to meet for lunch again, this time at the parking lot of Allan’s office in Richardson, from which they drove to a nearby restaurant. Allan was accustomed to making his own hours at work, so that was no problem; but they could “save time” if Candy picked him up. From talking about the risks and hazards of an affair, they moved on quickly to a consideration of ways they could possibly avoid those hazards. They talked a great deal about “emotional involvement.” They both very sensibly agreed that there would be none of that; it was too dangerous. As long as they limited the affair to sex alone, they were safe. They would become closer friends, of course—they already were, just by meeting for lunch—but they were both adults and they would be able to handle the emotional pressures in an adult fashion. Allan started looking forward to his daily call to Candy from work. Candy, just as starved for affection, looked forward to it as well. Allan was growing much more comfortable with the idea of an affair, mainly because he discovered, to his surprise, that he could go to lunch with Candy, talk with her intimately on the phone, and then go home to Betty and be completely normal. Candy had always felt completely normal around Pat, perhaps because she was confident he would never suspect a thing. Still, Allan and Candy both hesitated to take the plunge.

  At the end of November Candy came up with the best stratagem of all: she invited Allan to her house for lunch. She fixed her famous lasagna for the occasion. She also decided, before Allan arrived, that if nothing happened soon, she wouldn’t spend any more time on this. She had done what she could to make it happen. It was really Allan’s decision to make. He was so damned indecisive that she was starting to think he wasn’t aggressive enough to do this anyway.

  As soon as Allan walked into the Montgomery house that day, he broke into laughter. For the first thing he saw, hanging above the bookcase in Candy’s living room, was a huge piece of butcher paper. On it, in Magic Marker, Candy had made two columns. The column on the left was headed “WHYS.” The column on the right said “WHY-NOTS.” When she had said she wanted him to come over to discuss the pros and cons, she wasn’t kidding. She also knew, from their last few phone conversations, that Allan was leaning toward a decision not to have an affair. The cute little sign eased the tension, made him more relaxed.

  After eating, they sat in the living room and went over the list an item at a time. They took the “why-nots” first, beginning with the most important one: fear of getting caught.

  “But that really shouldn’t be a problem,” said Candy, “if we’re careful.”

  Allan was much more concerned about one of the “why-nots” farther down the list: the possibility that they would become emotionally involved.

  “We need to think about what we’re getting into,” said Allan.

  “Allan, as far as I’m concerned this is just for fun. I’m not serious about it. It’s just a companionship thing, and we shouldn’t be afraid of it. Whatever happens, we’ll do it for a while and then it will be over.”

  “I
’m afraid that I might get emotionally involved.”

  “We just won’t let that happen.”

  The “whys” on the list were a good deal easier: a sense of adventure, a need for companionship. Candy hadn’t gone so far as to put “sex” on the list, but they discussed that one, too.

  “We’ll always wonder if we don’t do it,” she said.

  “I know,” said Allan.

  “It’s up to you, Allan. I know I can do it. I know I can act in an adult fashion and not take unnecessary risks. I’ve made up my mind, so just tell me if you want to do it.”

  They didn’t make the final decision that day, but after Allan left, Candy thought to herself, “How much farther can you go?” They had already made too big a deal of something that should have been more natural. It wasn’t as though Allan Gore was her fantasy man or anything.

  A few days later Allan called again.

  “I’ve decided I want to go ahead with it,” he said. They had gone so far with it, Allan had finally decided, that to back out now would be almost a betrayal of Candy. Besides, he thought it would be easier than he had first imagined. After all, they had already had three meetings and it hadn’t affected Betty in the least. Why not give it a try, at least once.

  Still it didn’t happen right away. There were ground rules to be established, logistical problems to be worked out. This affair was to be conducted properly. Candy even made a list of the rules one day so they could discuss them on the phone:

  1) If either one of them ever wanted to end the affair, for whatever reason, it would end. No questions asked.

  2) If either one became too emotionally involved, the affair would end.

  3) If they ever started taking risks that shouldn’t be taken, the affair would end.

  4) All expenses—food, motel room, gasoline—would be shared equally.

  5) They would meet only on weekdays, while their spouses were at work.

  6) Candy would be in charge of fixing lunch on the days they met, so that they could have more time. They figured they would need all of Allan’s two hours off for lunch.

  7) Candy would be in charge of getting a motel room, for the same reason.

  8) They would meet on a Tuesday or a Thursday, once every two weeks. This was because Candy was free only on the days when Ian attended the Play Day Preschool at Allen Methodist Church. She took him each Tuesday and Thursday, from nine to two, but she figured that three out of four of those school days she would need for all the other errands and church and school duties in her hectic schedule.

  Finally having checked off every possible precaution like astronauts getting ready for a launch, they set the date for the affair to begin: December 12, 1978.

  Candy spent the morning getting ready. First she dropped off Jenny at the little red Lovejoy schoolhouse on Farm-to-Market Road 1378, then she continued on to Allen and deposited Ian at the Play Day Preschool. When she got back to the house, she allowed herself about an hour to fix the special lunch she had planned: marinated chicken, lettuce salad with cherry tomatoes and bacon bits, Thousand Island dressing, white wine, and cheesecake for dessert. She packed everything, including a tablecloth, into a picnic basket, and then gathered together a few undergarments and a nightgown and slipped them into her purse. She had everything ready by 10:45. By eleven she was entering Richardson in her station wagon, searching for a motel convenient to Allan’s office. She found one right on the freeway, just two or three minutes away for Allan, called the Continental Inn.

  It took a few minutes to check in, because the girl behind the counter insisted on seeing her driver’s license and getting the money in advance. Candy paid out $29 of the cash she had gotten at the supermarket the day before, and then filled out the registration card with her real name. After all, what difference did it make? Who did she know who had ever heard of the Continental Inn in Richardson? The girl gave her the key to one of the upstairs rooms that were set back from the highway. Candy drove the station wagon around to the back and started unpacking.

  The room would do nicely. It was about ten by twelve feet, with one of those old televisions about the size of a Buick. All the shelves and cabinets were built into the walls. The walls themselves were covered with bright yellow fake paneling, which perfectly fit the autumnal decor of the rest of the room: old brown carpet and, on the bed, a spread adorned with leaves and pine cones. By opening the drapes, Candy had a view of a car wash, a “4 Day Tire” store, a Yamaha dealership, and A&A Emergency Plumbing. She went straight to the phone and called Allan at work.

  “I’m at the Continental Inn on Central Expressway,” she said. “Room 213.”

  “Be there in a few minutes,” he said.

  Candy busied herself getting the room ready. First she opened the picnic basket and arranged her marinated chicken feast on the bed. Then she slipped into her favorite peekaboo negligee; it was a soft pink color and almost, but not quite, sheer. It was long, falling all the way to her ankles, and it showed off her body while hiding the slightly too large thighs. She looked at herself in the mirror. For a mother of two, she didn’t look bad. Then she sat in a chair by the window and waited.

  Suddenly, for the first time since she had propositioned Allan in the church parking lot the month before, Candy started to get nervous. Perhaps it was the coldly impersonal room, perhaps the calculated way they were going about the affair. But she felt herself becoming frightened now that she realized that whatever they did today would be irrevocable. Everything she had done before, no matter how brazen, had been harmless flirtation compared to this. Having sex is not as simple as it seems. It changes people.

  On the way to the motel, Allan discovered that he wasn’t quite as brave as he had thought, either. He worried that perhaps the only reason he was doing this was to please Candy. He had to admit that Candy was sexually appealing, and yet he didn’t want to be full of anxiety all the time. He didn’t want to feel like he was feeling now.

  But once he opened the door an saw Candy, smiling and seductive in her pink nightgown, Allan felt a surge of bravado. What the heck, thought Allan. I’m here and I’m going to do it.

  “I’ve made lunch,” she said, smiling halfheartedly. Allan could tell, much to his surprise, that Candy was even more nervous than he was.

  They sat on either side of the bed and made small talk. Allan dug into the chicken and quickly drank a glass of wine. Candy poked at her chicken, tearing off one little sliver at a time.

  “I feel like what we’re eating,” she said.

  Allan smiled.

  They finished off the dessert and then busied themselves with putting aside the paper plates and containers, as though neither wanted to make the first move. When there was nothing left to do, Candy sat quietly on the chair by the window. There was a moment of strained silence.

  “Well,” said Allan, “are you just going to sit there?”

  Candy smiled. “Yes.”

  Allan walked around the bed and gently touched her on the shoulder. All of her nervousness dissolved.

  The sex was gentle and conventional and satisfying. It was also very brief. Candy was amazed at first by Allan’s naivete as a lover. When she stuck her tongue into his mouth, it was apparent that he had never had a French kiss before. The good news was that he was a quick learner. For his part, Allan was positively transported. Candy was so responsive and energetic—she moved so much—that Allan found it more exciting than any sexual experience he had ever had. It was good for him because it seemed so good for her. He couldn’t keep going very long, but he wouldn’t forget the feeling for several days afterward.

  Afterwards Candy insisted that they both take showers before leaving. “So you won’t smell like me,” she said.

  Candy felt very well pleased. Despite Allan’s apparent inexperience, she hadn’t really had to fake her responses very much at all. And he did show great promise as a lover. He wasn’t very interesting in bed, and he was certainly quick about it, but he had an advantage most men didn
’t: the most perfectly shaped penis Candy had ever seen.

  Allan would have been surprised to hear his body talked about that way. He was just as satisfied by the lunchtime rendezvous and was looking forward to the next one. When he went back to work, he felt weak all afternoon.

  The first time the Montgomerys and Gores ever heard the name Ron Adams was at a very emotional church service in mid-December 1978. Jackie Ponder had nothing but nice things to say about the man who had been appointed to replace her, but her remarks also contained an undertone of regret and sadness. To Betty Gore, JoAnn Garlington, Elaine Williams, and all the other women who had come to regard Jackie as the most positive force in their lives, her decision to go elsewhere could only mean one thing: she was being forced out against her will. It probably had something to do with her divorce and subsequent love affairs. It was all too much for some of the parishioners to accept. Perhaps word had gotten back to the bishop. Regardless of her reason for leaving, though, it was obvious that her replacement was her opposite in every respect. He was a man, for one thing, coming into a church run mostly by women. He was inexperienced, having served only as an assistant at First Methodist in Plano while he was completing his work at Perkins. He was twenty-four years old, even younger than most of the ministers the church had had before Jackie. Everything about him seemed a regression, even before anyone had been introduced to him.