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  “Oh, stop blathering, you old woman, and let me give Linda the salient points of my heroic adventure,” I said. “Okay, first there came Loretta. I married Loretta straight out of business school and knew right away I’d made a huge mistake. Her father owned a small but prestigious investment banking firm in Atlanta and I, being the son of a farmer and a schoolteacher, wanted nothing more than a life of glitz. . . .”

  “Here’s a light,” Robert said, lighting my cigar. “But what he got was a life of grunt!”

  I inhaled and coughed and then I groaned.

  “You okay?” Linda said.

  “Yeah! Whew! Man! Every time I think about the hell I went through and for what?” I said. “Anyway, it was pretty dismal. I worked and worked these ungodly hours and the old man was always breathing down my neck, second-guessing every decision, every plan—it was just awful.”

  “Tell her about Amy!” Robert said, “Amy was hot, bubba! That’s why the whole thing started to unravel. . . .”

  “You had a girlfriend?” Linda said and blushed.

  I didn’t know if she said it that way because it was impossible to believe I’d consider adultery or because she thought it was impossible that anyone would find me attractive. I decided to defend my viability as an object of desire and tell her the story exactly as it happened.

  “Ah, Amy!” I rolled my eyes. Linda must’ve thought I had a twitch because she didn’t smile. “Okay, it was just last November, and I was having a perfectly nice lunch with Amy, my secretary. We had just ordered. A fist slammed my table and the next thing I knew, Theo, my father-in-law, was leaning over me and the hissing began. I never should have let my only daughter marry you. I knew it was a mistake then. And, I know it now.

  “I felt like saying, congratulations—we were both right. Anyway, Theo, who was one inch from my face, was whispering, may I add, very unsuccessfully. I could tell from the creeping scarlet of my secretary’s neck and face that she was mortified. Our captain scurried away, leaving us to sort out this simple misunderstanding.

  “I stood up. Theo? He was firmly planted in his spot, ready to launch something nuclear my way. Naturally, when he did not reply in a timely fashion, I spoke. Theo, it’s Secretary’s Day and I am merely having lunch with my secretary.

  “You don’t fool me for a minute, he said. Theo looked at Amy in disgust and then back to me. No one takes their secretary to the City Grill. You must think I’m an idiot. I said, No, I think you owe the lady an apology.”

  “Yeah, you see, Theo is Atlanta’s authority on where you can take your secretary to lunch,” Robert said. “He’s got a plaque from the mayor in his office. . . .”

  “Yeah, sure. So, did he apologize? God! I would’ve died on the spot!”

  “No, he didn’t apologize and Amy just left the table.”

  “So tell her what Amy looked like!”

  “Okay, okay. Amy was a willowy, redheaded, green-eyed gal with this face that was like, I don’t know, a porcelain figurine or something. It looked like she had the dust of crushed pearls on her skin. I swear . . .”

  Robert and Linda were staring at me as though I were overdosing on psychedelic mushrooms from Thoreau’s forest and that at any second I would begin to spasm and writhe in erotic ecstasy. I cleared my throat.

  “Anyway, as she escaped to the ladies’ room, she sidestepped the arm of Theo’s suit, as though it was dipped in anthrax.”

  “Good Lord! I would’ve been shaking and fainting!” Linda said.

  “Not her. Here’s the kicker. When she glanced back, I saw that her face was void of any emotion and I thought that was odd. In the same instant, Theo blew his stinking breath in my face and stormed out, leaving me there, holding my cloth napkin, completely mystified by what had just occurred. I thought, wait! Great God! Was it possible?

  “Had I missed something about her feelings? After all, it was Amy who had asked that we have lunch. She had made the reservation, chosen the provocative blouse she wore, and she who had doused herself in perfume that day. Amy was hot for me and I hadn’t even suspected it. Or was she hot for me?

  “I took my seat again and continued to consider it. No, I began to relish the possibility. Someone was hot for me? Someone found me attractive? No, it was impossible. I was the most married, albeit frustrated, man I knew!”

  “SNL did a skit modeled on Brad’s life called ‘The King of the P. Whipped,’” Robert said and snorted with laughter.

  “Up yours,” I said to Robert and then looked quickly at Linda. “Sorry.”

  “Puh-leeze!” she said, not offended in the least.

  “Come on, man, tell her how you got hammered!”

  “Okay, so, Albert, our captain, appeared at my side, placed a large scotch on the rocks right next to my okra soup and corn bread and said, Mr. Jackson, on the house. I said, Did you hear my father-in-law? He must be insane!

  “Albert held his small silver tray behind his back with both hands and said, April. And I said, What are you talking about? April?

  “I could see Amy coming toward us then. Sir, Secretary’s Day is in April. This is November.

  “I just said, Oh, shit. So, old Albert held her chair for her and winked at me before leaving us to examine the calendar year and ruminate about its holidays. I’m really sorry about Theo, I said. He’s a, pardon me for saying this, windbag of the first order and I don’t know why . . .

  “Suddenly I was riveted to the rise and fall of her, um, chest? I just sat there wondering how they, um, she managed to be so lovely and why had I never noticed them, um, her before?”

  “She just smiled at me and said, Mr. Jackson? I took a long drink and looked at her, trying to concentrate on the issue at hand and not become completely entranced by the curve of her full mouth. She was so young! I couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever been really ravished by a man before.”

  “You’re a pig, Jackson!” Robert said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “All men are pigs,” Linda said.

  “Well, instead of asking her, I cleared my throat and got back to Theo, saying, I mean, I don’t know where he gets off . . . and she says, Brad? You don’t mind if I call you Brad, do you? I mean, if you’d rather I didn’t . . . Then, she reached across the table, her long red curls tumbling over her shoulder in this holy hell landslide of sensuality, and placed her hand over mine. I just looked at her hand there, laying over mine in a gesture that on any other day would have seemed to be just friendly concern.

  “Such a young hand! Probably not a day over twenty-two. It was soft, silky in fact. Unlike Loretta’s hand, which wore the contents of Bailey Banks and Biddle and was tanned to a leathery finish, hers were naked of any jewels. So, then my brain starts driving me crazy! My head says, Naked? Nice choice of words, Brad. I knew I was heading for trouble if I didn’t take control of things. But, to tell you the truth, I didn’t want to take control of things with Amy.

  “Our eyes met and I knew I was correct about her intentions. Where was this heading? All at once, I was thankful my hand wasn’t hairy and that it didn’t have liver spots.

  “I said, No, of course, uh, I mean, yes, you can call me Brad, why not? I call you Amy, don’t I? I mean, we’re not in the office, right? I was telling myself, that’s it, man, keep the decorum thing working. But she can see I’m a bit of a wreck and she says, Are you sure you’re all right?

  “I sat up a little, sliding my hand away, and said, Of course. I’m fine. I’m sorry about Theo. He’s an ass, that man, to think that I had you out here trying to seduce you. It’s outrageous! Don’t be mad at him.

  “Amy then said, He’s just being protective of his daughter. And, anyway, it doesn’t matter. She smoothed her napkin in her lap and picked up her fork, pairing a bite of her fried green tomatoes with the mozzarella burratta and the grilled Cippolini onions.”

  “Leave it to you to remember exactly what she was eating!” Robert said.

  “Whatever. So, she put it in her mouth as I scooped a sp
oon of soup. I watched her chew slowly and suddenly, God help me, everything about her seemed erotic. In my mind, we were already in a room at the Ritz-Carlton in Buckhead! Can you believe that? Here I am, this very married guy, one lunch with my secretary and I’m actually thinking about doing something so, so . . .

  “But, I didn’t do it! Think about this . . . the one time in your life you actually get propositioned by some gorgeous young girl and you’re so out of it in your head, you can’t even pay attention to what she’s saying! I remember Amy leaned over and said, Did you hear me? You’re not even listening, are you? I was completely lost in this fantasy of actually, you know . . . but then, reality came crashing back and once more I was across from my secretary, the heretofore virtuous and demure Amy who had never done anything inappropriate in her life, as far as I knew. What was wrong with me?”

  “Hello? You’re normal!” Linda said.

  “Right! So I said, I’m sorry, Amy, I was still thinking about killing Theo with my bare hands. Save your strength for better things, she said.”

  “Ha! Better things! Don’t you love that? Ah, God . . .” Robert could not contain his running commentary.

  “Shut up, Robert! So I said, What do you mean? Better things? Was she going to announce some illicit intention? Not possible, I thought. And then she says, Well, the merger you’re working on, the millions of things you’ve got coming up, you know. . . .

  “God! She looked so innocent! Was she waiting for me to make the first move? But then, she said, Your son? I mean, he must take a lot of energy, right? I breathed a little easier then. See? Unfortunately and fortunately, she was a nice girl. Not some tramp looking for an older man to take care of her so she could acquire, God knows, whatever it was that girls of her age acquired. Anyway, I don’t know why I said it but I said, Well, my son is a great disappointment to me, actually. Don’t ask me why I told her that. Anyway, I remember taking several sips of water and she said, What do you mean a disappointment? Well! She began eating with this enthusiasm seldom displayed by the fair sex, slathering her bread with butter....

  “Get a grip, bubba! I said to myself, and cleared my throat. So, I said, Well, he’s so busy . . . I mean, when I was a boy I did all sorts of things with my father and my son has so many scheduled activities sometimes I feel like I hardly ever see him. And she says something like, Well, why don’t you just put him in the car and take him somewhere? Anyway, I realized right then and there that I should have just demanded that Loretta make it possible for me to have more time with Alex. They finally bring the entrees and Amy is giving me all these looks and I am still wondering if she has, you know, designs on my body, and then I decided to just say very little, keep the conversation light and wait for her to make a move. Just act normal. She couldn’t be old enough to hold back her cards for long.

  “I was right about that. It took about one minute. She’s cutting her steak and all of a sudden she says, Can I ask you something, Brad? And, I said, Sure. Shoot. So, Amy says, Are you in love with your wife? And, I said, What kind of a question is that?

  “About two seconds later she looked at me and said, I see you looking at me and wondering what it would be like to make love to me. Then I realized what a chicken shit I was because I launched into this whole speech about how I was committed to Loretta and how the commitment was the thing and how I had never stepped out on Loretta and all that stuff.”

  “Wait!” Robert said. “Here’s the point to this whole story! Brad never laid a finger on Amy but he may as well have because Theo went right to Loretta and told her he had practically nailed Brad in flagrante delicto!”

  “Pants down?” Linda said.

  “You got it,” Robert said and laughed so loud and so hearty that we all laughed. “Come with me, Linda. Let’s get Louise to give us a sandwich. You want something, old man?”

  “Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

  “I don’t want bread,” Linda said, “counting carbs, you know. But I could go for soup?”

  For the next few minutes, while Robert and Linda were away, I relived the rest of the conversation with Amy and how, at that moment I had wished I had the balls to take her up on her suggestion.

  I just want to get laid, Brad. Get laid by a gorgeous man like you with your beautiful eyes that crinkle a little looking down at me, with your gorgeous blond hair . . .

  It’s thinning, actually.

  Shush! It’s beautiful. And I want to feel your breath in my ears. I don’t want the burden of a personal relationship. I like things the way they are and don’t want to mess that up. There it is, plain and simple.

  It had taken me a minute to catch my breath.

  Well, I guess you couldn’t paint it much more transparent than that, could you? Look, Amy, let me be honest here, okay? Were I single and we didn’t work together? We’d be in bed as fast as I could take us there. But, we work together and there’s the issue of being married.

  What if I change jobs?

  Please don’t do that, Amy. You’re the perfect secretary. My whole business would fall apart without you. You know that.

  I had looked at her for a long time and she stared at me. What had become of the world? Amy was a stunning young woman who could have had any man she wanted. Except me. I didn’t have the stomach for something as tawdry as an affair. I just wasn’t wired that way.

  What are you thinking? she had said.

  I’m thinking that I am very flattered and that I wish things were different....

  You must have seen me looking at you, no?

  Yes, but I wouldn’t have known you felt this way in a million years. You have to understand that I have never stepped outside of my marriage, ever.

  Never?

  Never.

  Well, there’s a first time for everything.

  Her light green eyes had sparkled with danger and mischief and I knew I would have been well advised to run like hell. I should have run like hell and laughed like hell at the same time. But all I had said was, I think we had better get the check.

  I was combing my fingers through my hair. I remember that I leaned forward in my chair and tried to organize my thoughts before I spoke. Amy. Listen to me. I think you are so beautiful, which I’m sure you already know, because everyone has probably been telling you that since you could understand what it meant. And . . .

  Brad! It’s okay! I swear! But don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to sleep with somebody else? I mean, do you realize that if you spend the rest of your life married to Loretta, that her lips are the only lips you’ll ever kiss again? I mean, isn’t that a little scary?

  She had me on the ropes with that. Of course, I had thought about it. Over the past few years, Loretta had only delivered the perfunctory variety of kisses—skin stretched over teeth—but that lack of wild passion wasn’t something that had kept me awake at night. I had grown accustomed to what we had and didn’t have.

  Look, of course I have wondered what it would be like to sleep with someone else. I’ve been wondering about it intensely for the past few minutes. But that’s what you get when you sign on for marriage —that old till death do us part thing, you know? Virtue is its own reward crap? And, then there’s the office problem. You just can’t have an affair with someone who works for you—remember Monica? There are laws—stupid laws—but laws.

  Well, I say bull to all that and I think I’d like the chocolate cheesecake with chocolate sauce and whipped cream and a double espresso.

  Amy, you are the most desirable of all women but this is the wrong time and the wrong situation....

  Like the song, right? Okay, enough said. For now, anyway.

  I put my fork and knife on my plate and smiled. She was right but she’d never hear me admit it. I had my high moral ground staked out and I wasn’t about to budge.

  Had Amy ever called? No. Had anyone? Only Loretta when she didn’t want to act like a parent. I rarely saw Alex. Loretta saw to that. I was alone. Maybe that was the way things were meant to be
.

  SIX

  BOATHOUSE

  “SO, this is what two hundred thousand dollars buys today? A gentrified but ramshackle two-bedroom carriage house in the old village?” I said.

  “Linda! Look! It’s got a view of the harbor,” Mimi said.

  “Yeah, if I hang out the window by my knees, lean to the left and risk my life. . . .”

  “And, the kitchen’s bright and sunny!” the broker said.

  “If you overlook the flocked metallic neon wallpaper,” I mumbled.

  “I’ll repaper the kitchen for you,” Mimi said. “Hey! We can teach the girls to hang wallpaper! These are good things to know.”

  I wasn’t even sure if Mimi had heard me. She was lost in dreams of feathering the perfect nest for her sister and her two nieces, one she visualized and decorated, a home whose door held a wreath for every season, accented with beautifully varnished pinecones, satin wired bows stretched like arms to welcome all comers, and lush pots of flowers and ferns on the stoop, clean gutters, swept porches, lavenderscented pillows and linen closets. All I would need to complete her vision was a Labrador—a big black one with a long pink tongue, named Beauregard to honor one of our most auspicious Confederate generals.

  I watched her for a few minutes—her laser eye like a measuring tape, already calculating yardage for kitchen curtains. And, would the trim be ball fringe or rickrack? For all her good intentions, I was afraid the answer was no. It would be neither one.

  “Mimi?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  Her smile was so loving and generous, it would be hard to say that I didn’t adore her, even when it was obvious she meant to position me front and center in her life. I should have been more grateful for the attention, and I was grateful. It was just that Mimi had yet to grasp that I wasn’t coming home to retire or that I felt defeated in the least. I was coming here for a fresh start, mainly because I was sick to death of the miserable winters and I wanted Gracie to see the world from another point of view. But her nurturing, while unexpected, was actually, in small doses, rather nice.