White Collar Blues

by Mel Walker

  "Wow look at that smile. Must be some kinda luncheon? Let me guess; you went for the prime rib?"

  The words snapped her out of her trance, the smile fading suddenly. The voice not expected but instantly recognizable, one she would immediately recognize for the rest of her life. No matter how distracted, tired or stressed out one becomes, a woman knows the voice of her husband no matter where.

  ***

  Justin burst through the twelve-foot glass doors of the Grand Lagoon catering hall fueled by a mixture of frustration and anger. He wouldn’t allow another day to pass without dealing with the six thousand pound elephant which sat on the shoulders of their marriage.

  Justin stomped up to the directory, in search of Chamber meeting, out of the corner of his eye, the non-movement of a familiar shape caught his eye. Her distinct profile one of his favorite things in the world. The edge of his mouth curling up into a proud smile, she still had that effect on him twenty-five years later.

  A sense of warmth spread through him as he took her in, like everything he had ever seen her wear, business attire suited her. Her appearance so different from the many years of yoga pants and designer sweatshirts. A look he recalled enjoying year after year.

  That far away look of happiness, the hint of a smile peeking out her top lip, a treasure which he always felt were reserved just for him. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind as to what had caused Leslie to smile that way; Justin’s mind quickly narrowing down his suspicions to one.

  Justin spit out his first thought, "Wow look at that smile. Must be some kind of luncheon? Let me guess; you went for the prime rib?"

  A flustered Leslie turned toward him, her smile transforming into a flash of surprise. "Justin! What are you doing here? Is everything alright at the office? Is it Jake?"

  Justin studied her intently, examining every movement, "Jake is fine. The office is a mess, but that's a story for another day."

  "Are you ok?"

  Justin recognized the priority order: kids, work then-husband on her list of concerns. He paused, putting him in her shoes and quickly realized he would probably come to the same order. "The question is are we ok?" The stress of the morning, the drive over and disturbance of his routine caused him to come direct.

  Her eyes lowered toward the floor, her silence answering the question for him. She avoided his stare, a look of guilt which Justin couldn’t place ever seeing before. "You talking about the last few days?"

  "And the weeks before that."

  She directed him to the two-seater, once again sitting. "We are having one of those periods is all."

  For the first time in twenty-five years, words from the lips of his wife sounded insincere. This fact nearly caused Justin to stumble as his knees nearly gave out. Has she always sounded insincere and I’m just now noticing? The fact that he knew about Peter and she hadn’t mentioned it made him question nearly everything.

  "It feels like there is more to it than that." He waited for her to respond and when she didn't he continued, "Is there anything you want to tell me, dear?"

  The loaded question had the desired effect as she leaned back suddenly as if she had been body slammed.

  "What?"

  She exhaled loudly and shut her eyes, “…there is something, but not here, not now.”

  Justin remained standing, his right foot tapping slightly, he glanced over his shoulder before speaking. “I’m tired of waiting for Leslie. Say it or don’t say it, I no longer care."

  Leslie stood. "What has gotten into you, Justin? Are you sure everything is ok in the office? It’s the middle of the day."

  "So we are going with deflection," Justin stood, matching her body position. "We have been married for too long, and I know you too well dear." Justin leaned forward and bit his lower lip. For a moment it appeared that a tidal wave of words would escape, pivoted on his heels and headed toward the catering hall.

  "Where are you going?" Leslie said as she tried to keep up with him.

  Justin glanced left then right searching for the right room, "well, if you aren't going to answer my question, why don't I ask the question to the one person who may have an answer and who will most certainly talk to me."

  "And who might that be?"

  Justin stopped and turned, Leslie nearly bumped into him. He turned to face her, a curious look on his face. He wanted to see her reaction when he delivered the next line. Her response, the reaction that he had studied and monitored for twenty-five years would tell him everything he wanted to know.

  "Peter." He delivered the line cold and calculated.

  Her reaction was so swift and sudden that Justin felt his heart drop. Never in his twenty-five years of married life had he ever seen his wife look guiltier.

  ***

  The clacking of her shoes against the marble floor of the Grand Lagoon paled in comparison to the drumbeat her heart played in her chest as Leslie tried her best to keep up with her husband.

  "Justin." She pleaded to deaf ears as he continued three paces ahead of her looking left and right for the luncheon room.

  The pace was too much for her, nearly pushing her into a full sprint. Her movements began to attract attention as people realized that something was amiss. The eyes of a woman she recognized from one of the chamber meetings caused her to pause, that look of pity. "Justin!" she came to a halt with a shout. He finally relented, stopping but not turning in her direction.

  She approached with caution, "if you open that door you may very be closing a different one. This is not who we are Justin. That room is full of my colleagues, my contacts, I would never, ever, under any circumstances do to you what you are about to do to my career. Let alone act without information."

  He finally turned. His previously laser focus softened. Her words had reached him.

  "I never thought we would ever be here. You are right this is not who we are." He stepped to the side of the corridor away from the passing traffic. He lowered his voice slightly. "Why exactly are we here Leslie? How could you be so stupid?"

  The attack was unexpected hitting her hard as she raised her hands toward her face as if she had been slapped. "... excuse me?"

  "Twenty-five years ... does it not mean a thing to you?" his voice cracked.

  She whispered as she stepped closer to him, every part of her wanted to take this conversation elsewhere, but she knew in his current state she had to address the remark. "I don't know what you think is going on Justin but that talk is unwarranted. Don't you dare question me like this."

  "Or what Les? What? What would you do that you haven't already done." He spit the words out, hurtful words, each syllable appearing to do more damage to him than his intended target.

  "Justin please stop. Let's go somewhere private and finish this up."

  He stepped back, that simple move causing his face to contort as if in pain, his eyes watering, his voice catching, "You kissed him."

  Guilty was the only thought that crossed her mind. She lowered her head knowing that her face had already confirmed the accusation.

  "I can explain... it's not ..."

  He cut her off, "it never is."

  He turned and walked away. Still stunned it took her a moment to realize he was headed to the chamber luncheon once again.

  By the time she got her feet to agree with her head, he had already entered the room. Part of her wanted to stay outside the hall and, not to be a witness to the destruction of her just starting career. The other part of her reminded her that she was a fighter. That she had put in just as much sweat equity in this marriage as her husband. If he saw the kiss, he must've seen the smack. Each thought fueled her steps as she swung open the door and entered expecting the worst but somehow ready for a fight.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty

  Asmall part of Justin Grant had wished he had been wrong. He knew he would remember that look on his wife's face for the rest of his life - that look of guilt.

  That look of regret, he wasn't sure if it was due
to her action or the fact that it had been uncovered. At this particular moment, it didn’t matter as both ripped at his gut.

  The voice broke his concentration. "Excuse me, sir. Are you here for the luncheon? It’s almost over." It was an attendant off to the right of the doorway. She was carrying a clipboard, "do you want to sign in?" She pushed the board toward him.

  He didn't want to look but couldn't stop. It boldly sitting on line eleven, confident handwriting, Peter Robin. Justin expected his wife's name to be directly below it; it wasn't. He flipped the page and located her name, that dainty scroll he had made fun of on so many occasions. Line forty-three. They hadn't come together, not even remotely arriving at the same time.

  "I'm here to meet someone," he found himself saying.

  "Ok, but if you are going to eat you better hurry, they are shutting down the buffet table." the assistant disappeared.

  The room was laid out in typical catering hall fashion. About eight large round tables sat in front of a small podium. A mic sat in the middle of the floor, Justin assumed it was placed there for a question and answer session. The buffet stretched across the wall opposite the podium.

  The luncheon was almost over as over half the room was empty. Despite the timing, the workers had already begun to disassemble the buffet table. About thirty participants mingled around the room, most standing and chatting. Justin strolled through, his eyes shifting from one group to the next in search of the man who was intent on taking his wife from him.

  "He's not here."

  He didn't have to turn; the sweet, soft voice of his wife nearly brought him to tears.

  "Not now he's not. He was though." He turned to see her nod.

  "And you guys had lunch together."

  She shook her head side to side, "Justin I barely ate.” Her voice was filled with fatigue, “ I was networking. That's what this event is about."

  Justin lowered his head, confused as to the next step. "How long?"

  "How long what?"

  He struggled with the words, "how long have you guys been intimately involved?"

  "We have not," her voice was barely audible as she glanced over his shoulder as if to make sure they couldn't be heard.

  A loud laugh broke out from a group a few feet from them. Leslie reached out to his elbow and directed him toward the empty buffet area. Her touch raced up his arm; it felt good. It always had.

  "Peter dropped me to the house one time; he kissed me ..."

  "And you kissed him back..." he interrupted, the image permanently burnt into his memory.

  "We kissed ..." her face stretched in anguish, the admission finally public.

  Justin turned away, her soft hand on his shoulder brought him to a stop, "I don't know why, but yes for a brief second I kissed him back Justin. I'm sorry, but as soon I realized what was going on I reacted."

  "Reacted?"

  Her face registered surprise.

  "Yes, reacted. I’m assuming you either saw it or whoever saw it, told you."

  Confusion returned to his face as his heart began to race once again.

  "Oh my god. No wonder. I'm so sorry Justin. After I realized what was going on I slapped Peter."

  "You what?"

  "Who told you? Did they not tell you that part?"

  "Les no one told me. I saw you guys kiss with my own eyes."

  "Then you must've seen me slap him. I slapped him, told him to get back in his truck, and he left." She paused, recalling the flash of sunlight off the window in the attic. He had seen it and hadn’t said a word up to now.

  Justin caught his breath as he processed this new information. Against his better judgment, he forced himself to relive that moment yet again. The impact of seeing his wife kiss another man had been so hurtful, he now remembered, that he did look away. After composing himself, he did look again only to see the truck pull away. Is that what happened? Justin wasn't sure, could he believe what she said over what he did see. The fact that he had to pause to think about the answer hurt nearly as much.

  "It doesn't matter how you reacted Les, whether you slapped him or not?"

  "It most certainly does matter. And I most certainly did slap him."

  "I didn't see it."

  "So, therefore, it didn't happen?"

  "I didn't see it."

  "Do you trust me, Justin? After twenty-five years do you think I would lie about something so important? Why not lie about the kiss if I was inclined to lie."

  "Because you already know that I had seen you kiss him."

  "For the record, he kissed me."

  "... and you kissed him back."

  "... for a second."

  "That's all it takes dear. There is no time limit associated with a transgression. It's not like dropping food. There is no five-second rule."

  This comment appeared to take the wind out of her.

  "Nothing is going on between Peter and me."

  "And how am I supposed to believe this?"

  "What more do you want me to do to prove it?"

  "Stop seeing him?"

  "Romantically? I'm not seeing him."

  "Stop seeing him at all."

  She appeared to think it over, "it’s a small community, Justin. Even if I wanted to, and I’m not saying I want to, it’s impossible to agree to. We are both involved in some joint projects; we cross paths here with the chamber....."

  "Both will need to stop. Put a cease to the joint projects, and you will need to quit the Chamber."

  Leslie stumbled back, her fighter instincts immediately kicking in, "And, do what? Why don't you just lock me in the basement and toss away the keys? This is my time, I’ve been the dutiful housewife and mother for over twenty years."

  "Wow, there you have it; all our talks, all our plans. I thought this was going to be our time. I certainly see where your head is now."

  Her voice rose, "you stubborn bastard. How dare you twist my words? I will not let you punish me for the rest of my life for a two-second transgression."

  "Was it one second or two? A minute ago it was two seconds. At this rate, by the end of the week, the two of you will have had a full-on smooch fest for an hour."

  "Ok, Justin you want to go that route. Fine. For the record, I will not be quitting the Chamber, and I will continue with my joint ventures."

  Justin paused, his attention drawn to the silence. Several people in the room were giving them their complete attention. Justin shot them a look of fuck off and returned his focus to his wife.

  "I was going to discuss it with you later but ….” She didn’t complete the sentence. Instead, she took a deep breath, appearing to gather her thoughts and then continued, “But seeing how you are wearing your Mr. Supreme Justice cape, I might as well. You should know by now that I don't respond well to ultimatums. Peter and I have an opportunity to pitch a deal with a large regional company, Java & Bread. I am flying out to Indianapolis with him tonight and won't be returning home until tomorrow evening. When I get back, we can pick up on this conversation.”

  It was Justin's turn to feel the pain and wrath of a hurt spouse. The double blow of indignation and the fact that she was now going on an overnight trip with the man she had kissed hit him hard. And even though she claimed there wasn't anything between them in her current spiteful state, Justin wondered if it would remain that way.

  He watched his wife of twenty-five years turn and exit the room and wondered if they had stepped over a line in which there was no recovery.

  He knew he should race after her, but also knew the way he felt he would only escalate it further.

  Besides, believe it or not, he had more pressing matter back in the office.

  Justin glanced quickly at his watch. He had watched a dear friend meltdown in the office chased by the security team, never to return and possibly face criminal prosecution. He had watched his wife of twenty-five years not only deny that something he had witnessed occur but she now with indignation told him in no specific terms that she was traveling with
the man who kissed her on an overnight trip.

  His marriage sat on the brink.

  If that wasn’t enough, his colleague, and long-term friend had done something so stupid that if discovered his career would be over; the collateral damage possibly wide enough to pull him down into a chasm even he couldn't recover.

  Staring at the watch a quirky smile crept across his face - Twelve forty-five the clock returned.

  Not bad for half a day.

  Chapter Twenty One

  There was only one place in all of the General modifications which Justin knew would make him forget his troubles at least for a little while. He found himself staring at the parking lot which on a typical midweek day would be nearly full. With the dislocation of so many workers, the lot sat barely half full. Justin knew he wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with the egregious misstep by Marcus yet knew he couldn’t remain on the sideline.

  He pounded on the steering wheel as he attempted to clear his head. His eyes sought out the manufacturing building. It housed the line, a place which had always provided solace to Justin.

  As he walked in a near comatose state, the expression on the face of his wife burned in his memory. The absolute look of guilt and the complete lack of remorse by her were the two things which stuck with him. As much as he wanted to try to empathize he couldn't see himself ever getting sucked into a situation like that, not that far.

  Once again, he kicked himself. Every thought of attempting to believe her story led him back to what he had seen. No matter how she dressed it up, she kissed another man. With that trust broken Justin rightfully questioned everything. How many times had they kissed? How much further had they gone physically?

  These thoughts once again got his blood boiling. He quickened his pace as he swiped his badge at the door and let his memory guide him to the plant floor. Upon entry, he was quickly spotted by the line workers, and he knew without looking that the foreman would be there shortly.