The Affair

by Colette Freedman

  “How’s Robert?” Maureen asked.

  Kathy blinked at her in surprise.

  “What? I haven’t seen him in nearly six weeks,” Maureen added.

  Kathy shook her head in disgust. “He said you’d been gone for three or four weeks.”

  “I went out sick early in November. Other than a couple of e-mails, I really haven’t spoken to him.”

  “He hasn’t called?” Kathy asked, getting angry now. R&K owed much of its growth and success to this woman. But more than that, she was a friend.

  “Oh, sure, he called for the first few days, usually when he wanted something, or had lost something, or couldn’t find a file. I wasn’t really expecting him to keep in touch. This is a busy time of year for him. He’s probably run off his feet.”

  “I haven’t really seen a lot of him,” Kathy admitted. “Let me apologize for him—”

  “Don’t,” Maureen said quickly, raising a hand. “I’ve worked with him for a long time. I know what he’s like.”

  “And he hasn’t . . . hasn’t done anything stupid, has he, like stopping your salary, or anything like that?”

  Maureen laughed and then wheezed a rasping cough. “Are you kidding? He’s terrified he’d lose me to one of his rivals. He knows both Hill Holliday and Digitas have been chasing me.”

  “Good. Good.” Unsure what to say next, Kathy concentrated on her tea.

  Maureen sat back into the wicker chair, then lifted up both legs and tucked them beneath her. “I get the impression that this may be more than a social call,” she said gently.

  Kathy stared miserably into the dregs of her tea. She nodded. “I really did only find out you were sick last night. It’s a long story, but Robert was out with Jimmy Moran . . . or at least, he said he was out with Jimmy Moran,” she added softly.

  “That’s an odd thing to say,” Maureen said, putting down her cup. “You sound as if you don’t believe him.”

  Kathy put down her own cup and looked Maureen in the eye. “I don’t.” She breathed deeply. “I believe Robert’s having an affair with Stephanie Burroughs. What do you think?”

  And she knew, even before Maureen answered, what the answer was going to be. It suddenly seemed colder in the conservatory.

  The older woman nodded. “I have suspected that for a long time.”

  It took Kathy a moment to catch her breath and when she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. “When did you know for certain?”

  “About a year ago. I was suspicious for a little while before that.”

  “A year! A year and you didn’t bother to tell me!” Kathy bit back the wave of anger that surged through her body.

  “I thought about it often enough. I wanted to tell you . . . but it never seemed to be the right time.”

  “You should have told me!” Kathy’s voice rose as she surged to her feet. “I had a right to know!”

  “I’m not the one you should be angry with.” Maureen said quietly.

  Kathy sank back into the chair and put her head in her hands.

  “If the roles were reversed, would you have told me?”

  Kathy opened her mouth to snap a “yes” but closed it again without replying. Would she, could she, put another woman through the agony, the self-doubt, the self-loathing, the fear, the anger she’d experienced over the past two days? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  “I’ve just come from the office. I went looking for something—something to tell me that he was having an affair, hoping to find nothing. I’d almost walked out the door when I discovered his cell phone bills.”

  The older woman smiled bitterly. “That’s how I found out too. I was doing an analysis of the bills, looking to see where we could cut costs, when I saw that he kept phoning the same number. I initially thought it was your cell, then I realized he was calling it late at night when he would have been home with you.”

  “Tell me what you know,” Kathy said fiercely. “Tell me everything. I have a right to know,” she added desperately.

  Maureen stood. Wrapping her arms tightly across her chest, she turned her back on Kathy and stared out at the empty December garden. “I think they’ve been having an affair for about eighteen months. Maybe a little longer, I’m not sure.”

  “A year and a half,” Kathy said numbly. “He knew her a long time before that. I suspected them of having an affair six years ago when she worked for us as a researcher.”

  Maureen frowned. “I don’t think they were. I know they worked closely together, but I don’t think they were having a relationship then.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No. But if they’d been having a relationship six years ago, I would have found out,” Maureen said confidently. “I know something is going on now.”

  “But you’ve known for a year and a half. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated,” Kathy whispered. “What does that mean? I’ve just discovered my husband of eighteen years has been having an affair for the last year and a half, maybe longer, and you couldn’t tell me because it’s complicated! What’s so complicated about that?”

  “Stephanie Burroughs sends a lot of business our way.” Maureen turned to look at Kathy, her face hard and expressionless, but her big eyes were brimming with tears. “Stephanie is the account manager with one of the largest advertising agencies in the city—she got us a lot of work. Without her, we would probably have gone under this past year.”

  Kathy stood and backed away from the older woman. “You let my husband continue his affair because you didn’t want to lose your job?”

  “His affair was none of my business,” Maureen said, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her calm. “His affair is between you and him. No one else. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I’m not one of those women who go running to their friends with news that they’ve seen their husbands with other women. Don’t you blame me for this, Kathy. This has nothing to do with losing my job. If R&K goes under, sure, I’ll lose my job, but I’ll get another. But you’ll lose your house, and in this economy a man pushing fifty isn’t going to be getting another job any time soon. People like him are a dime a dozen, and the kids coming out of school will work twice as long for half the salary. If I’d told you, you would have confronted him and then what? We’d all have lost, you and Robert most of all.”

  Kathy licked dry lips. Her tongue felt swollen in her mouth. “You’re saying he slept with her to save the business.”

  “I’m saying nothing of the sort.”

  “But that’s what you’re implying.”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m simply telling you the truth.”

  “Then what exactly are you saying, Maureen?”

  “Kathy . . .”

  “Tell me,” Kathy demanded, voice rising to a scream. “Why is he sleeping with her?”

  Maureen sighed. “I’ve seen them together. I think they’re in love.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Sunday, 22nd December

  The remainder of Saturday passed in a blur, and Kathy had no memory of driving back from Maureen’s house. She’d kept out of Robert’s way, busying herself around the house with the Christmas preparations. Robert had gone out in the morning with the kids to buy the Christmas tree, so by the time she got back the house smelled of pine and echoed with Theresa’s squeals as she decorated the tree. A trail of pine needles led from the back door, through the kitchen, and into the dining room.

  Maureen’s words had frightened her, confused her. She could almost accept that Robert was having an affair with another woman, but that was sex, wasn’t it, nothing more? Maureen had said she thought they were in love with one another, which implied. . .

  She wasn’t sure what it implied.

  Kathy had gone to bed early, claiming a headache, which was true, and had lain in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the TV from the room below and the noise of the regular weekend argument coming fro
m next door. The young, good-looking couple next door did everything together—golf, hikes, tennis, movie nights. They had great barbecues and were excellent hosts. Only Kathy knew that they had screaming matches in the backyard, usually about this time every Friday or Saturday night when one or the other—or both—had a little too much tequila. In the six years she’d lived in this house, she’d learned all the details of their unhappy lives. But when they stepped out on the streets, neighbors only saw a perfect couple....

  When people looked at her and Robert, what did they see? A happily married couple, with the standard two children, nice house, and two cars? Or could they see the cracks . . . the distance that had crept in between them? She suddenly wondered how many other people knew about Robert’s affair. She felt her heart beat too quickly and a panicked tightness squeeze across her chest at the idea. The entertainment business in Boston was a tight-knit community; someone must have seen Robert and his mistress together. If they had, would they have made the connection and assumed the couple were sleeping together? Or would they think Robert and Stephanie were just colleagues? Friends even. Kathy hated the thought that people knew and were pointing fingers as she drove past or walked down the street, whispering behind her back. No, if that were true, someone would have told her. The reality was, most likely no one suspected.

  She hadn’t.

  Kathy fell into a fitful sleep, only snapping awake again when Robert crept into the bedroom. He undressed in the dark and slid in beside her, sighing with contentment as his head hit the pillow. She had not intended to speak to him, afraid that she might blurt out something, or rage or scream at him, but she needed to say something. The rhythm of his breathing was changing, slowing, as he drifted toward sleep.

  “I went to see Maureen today.”

  There was a long pause and, for a moment, she thought Robert had fallen asleep. There was movement in the bed as he turned to look at her. In the reflected streetlights, she could see the sparkling whites of his eyes.

  “How is she?”

  “Getting better. But she won’t be back till the New Year.”

  “Didn’t think so,” he mumbled.

  “She’s not as young as she pretends to be.”

  “I know.” He shifted again, rolling onto his back. “The new girl, the Russian . . .”

  “Illona?”

  “Yes, Illona. She’s very good. Does what she’s told, doesn’t have an attitude, is in on time, and takes exactly an hour for lunch. Maureen does it her way, treats me like a boy, and has no concept of a one-hour lunch.”

  “You’re not thinking about firing her, are you?”

  “It’s crossed my mind,” he admitted.

  “It’s not going to happen,” Kathy snapped. “I forbid it.”

  “Forbid it?” There was something in his voice she didn’t like: sarcasm or contempt. “You forbid it?”

  “I still own half the company, remember? Maybe it’s time I started to take a more active interest in it.” She sat up in bed and turned on the light.

  Robert groaned and shielded his eyes. “It’s almost one, for Christ’s sake. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

  Kathy ignored him. “Now that the kids are older, I’m thinking in the New Year I might start coming in with you three or four times a week. Even when Maureen comes back, she’s not going to be able to work full-time. I can go back to doing what I used to do: helping you run the company. Put the K back into R&K Productions.”

  “Where are you going to find the time?”

  “I’ll make the time. I’ll concentrate on getting new business; you concentrate on making the material. Remember? The way we used to.”

  “Yeah, that would be great,” he said, sounding less than enthusiastic. “Let’s talk about it in the morning.”

  “Maureen said the company was in the red.”

  Robert shuffled up in the bed. “Maureen should have kept her mouth shut. Can we talk about it in the morning?”

  “We rarely get a chance to talk anymore, Robert. We’re running in opposite directions.”

  “C’mon, Kathy, it’s only temporarily, and it’s Christmas. That always brings its own drama.”

  “No, it’s not only temporarily, and it’s not just Christmas. We’ve been doing it for months, maybe longer. I barely see you anymore. You’re home late four nights out of five, you go in to the office on the weekends, and when you are home, you’re locked in your office, working.”

  Robert shrugged. “It’s been crazy busy.”

  “Put my mind at ease; tell me the business is going well.”

  Robert sighed deeply. “Look, we’ve gone through a rough patch, but I’ve landed a few new accounts. Next year will be good.”

  And Kathy knew where those new accounts had come from.

  “Does that mean you’ll end up working eighty hours a week next year too?”

  “While the work is there, yes. Kathy, I don’t have an option. It’s one of the joys of being self-employed; you know that.”

  “Then I’m even more determined to help you. Starting in the New Year, you’ve got a new colleague: me. You can give your Russian girl notice.”

  Robert made a face and shook his head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. But here’s what’s going to happen. You’ll come work with me for a week, maybe two, then you’ll have to take time off to be home for some reason: Theresa’s sick; you have to get to Brendan’s concert on time; you have to be home for the refrigerator repairman.”

  “Really? That’s your worry, my needing to be home for the repairman?” Kathy was getting angry.

  She noticed that Robert was completely ignoring her. He kept trying to justify himself. “Then you’ll take more and more time off, and soon enough, we’ll be back to the way we are now. Except I’ll have to go looking for a secretary again.”

  “So, you’re using the fact that I’m prioritizing my kids . . .”

  “Our kids, and I’m not saying that, Kathy.”

  “You sound as if you don’t want me to work with you.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Kathy took a deep breath. The conversation was not going the way she had hoped it would. “Look, Robert, I want to be more involved. I feel . . . I feel like we’re drifting apart.”

  Robert reached out to take her hand, but Kathy slid her fingers away. “We’re not drifting apart; we’re just busy. And it’s Christmas. That’s all. I’d love you to be more interested in the business.” He lifted the clock off of the nightstand and held it up. “Jesus, can we please continue this tomorrow? I have to get an early start in the morning.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, turning off her light and sliding down beneath the covers. “But we will continue it,” she promised.

  “Fine,” he said.

  “Fine,” she parroted.

  Lying in the dark, listening to her husband’s breathing deepen beside her, Kathy realized that there was no way he could allow her to be around the business—not if he was using it as the base for his affair.

  Kathy awoke Sunday morning with a blinding migraine.

  She made the kids brunch and then the three of them decorated the tree. Robert was of no help: he spent the entire day in his study. Kathy went to bed and fell asleep watching an old Hitchcock film.

  The entire day had passed and she and Robert had never continued the previous evening’s conversation.

  CHAPTER 17

  Monday, 23rd December

  “Are you free tonight?” Kathy tucked the phone under her ear as she picked through the clothes in the closet. “I hate to ask. . . .”

  “I can be free. What do you need?” Sheila’s voice was breathless, and Kathy could hear music and a cheery voice in the background.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”

  “Two-dimensional company. It’s a workout video. The Bar Method. Really lifts the butt.” Each sentence came in short bursts.

  “Like your butt
needs any more lifting,” Kathy said, unable to keep the touch of envy out of her voice. “I was wondering if you could stay with the kids. I asked Julia the other night, and I don’t want to ask her again.”

  “Sure. Where are you off to?” There was a silence, and Kathy heard the television click off. “This is something to do with Robert, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Kathy pulled out a black polo turtleneck and tossed it onto the bed.

  “I went to see Maureen Ryan on Saturday. You remember Maureen, the office manager at R&K?”

  “Of course, she’s great.”

  “She knew about the affair, Sheila; she knew about it, and she didn’t tell me.”

  “I’m not that surprised,” Sheila said softly.

  Kathy blinked in surprise. “Would you, if you had known? Would you have told me?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  “If I had known for certain, I would have talked to Robert first before I spoke to you. What did Maureen say?”

  “She says it’s been going on for over a year. They meet every Monday night at the Boston Sports Club on Bulfinch, and then usually go out for dinner afterward.”

  Sheila’s voice was deadly serious. “What are you going to do?”

  “I want to see them together. That’s all. Nothing else. I promise.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Sheila said immediately.

  “But the children . . .”

  “Are not children anymore, and they’re big enough to look after themselves for a couple of hours. They’re teenagers, for Christ’s sake. Brendan will be eighteen in a few months. He’s practically a man.”

  “I really want to do this on my own. . . .”

  “And what happens if Robert sees your car? What happens if you have a crash on the way home because you’re upset at something you see? I’m coming with you. I’m your sister.”