I finished, and they stared at me. Then they turned and looked at each other.
"I don't know, Willie," Laura said slowly. "It could be a disaster."
"That's right," I agreed. "I wouldn't lie to you. But it could also go off without a hitch. Jessica?"
"It's a tough call," she said. "I've never done hard time and don't want to start now. Isn't there any other way, Willie?"
"I'm open to suggestions," I said.
They were silent.
"Look," I said, not wanting to push them, "I don't expect an answer this minute. But think about itokay? If we pull it off, we'll be set for the rest of our lives."
"And if it flops," Laura said, "we'll be set for the rest of our lives making license plates."
"You've got it," I said. "The choice is yours."
"Tell me something, Willie," Jess said. "If Laura and I include ourselves out, will you recruit someone else and go ahead with it anyway?"
"Sure I will," I said. "I think it's too good to pass up."
That was a lie. If they said no, I was dead.
Here's something I want to throw at you. If there was a way let's imagine this-a guaranteed way that a married man or woman could cheat and be absolutely sure of never getting caught, how many faithful husbands and wives would there be in the world?
Makes you think, doesn't it?
Well, I was thinking about it. What happened was that I was still living on Hibiscus Drive in Rustling Palms Estates, even if I was sleeping in the guest bedroom. And every time I asked Marleen if she had seen a lawyer, she'd say, "Not yet."
So naturally I figured the crisis was just melting away, and I had overreacted by going to Dr. Chernoble. I called that off and started giving serious ry row without thought to how I could hump Mabel Bar getting caught.
Usually I had my fun and games in the woman's home, but I could hardly do that with Mabel, could I? And my Lincoln Towncar, roomy as it was, reminded me too much of my high-school high jinks on the lumpy backseat of a spastic Studebaker. , That got me to trying to devise a foolproof way of cheating with absolutely no possibility of discovery. I finally came to the sad conclusion there was none. But there were ways to minimize the risk, and after a lot of scouting I found a motel down near Fort Lauderdale.
It wasn't the most elegant hot-pillow joint in South Florida, but it wasn't cheesy either. Best of all, it was out in the boonies, and the chances of running into someone who knew me or Mabel were practically nil.
I checked the place out. It was summer, customers were few, and the owner was perfectly willing to rent by the day. And he impressed me as the kind of guy who wouldn't give a damn who I had as a visitor. Also, there was an ice-vending machine in the lobby, and for an extra five bucks you could get a vibrating bed.
All the room lacked were mirrors on the ceiling.
It was fun to plan all this. It was like I had come to a final realization that I was a bastard, always had been, always would be. If I was the way I was, why not relax and enjoy it?
Soulsearching was a waste of time. If my wife was willing to put up with my shenanigans, who was being hurt?
Right about then Marleen decided we should have the Barrow family over for dinner.
"Can't we skip it?" I asked her. "Or postpone it?"
"No," she said in that bossy way she had. "We owe them."
So I didn't make waves. Thinking about it later, I decided it might not be such a bad idea after all. It would give me a chance to diddle Mabel and, by contrast with her dweebish husband, convince her that life offered pleasures she hadn't sampled yet, g, and able to and Herman Todd was ready, willing to share them with her.
My wife was a gourmet cook, and she went all ut on that dinner, gazpacho, pasta with black olives and scallions, lamb chops with an herb crust and ions and shoefresh mint sauce, caramelized on string candied sweet potatoes, mile-high apple pie. I provided the wine, including a duplicate of the anniversary bottle I had smashed. I hoped it would make amends, but Marleen didn't even notice.
It was a fantastic meal, but the pice de resistance as far as I was concerned was Mabel Barrow, a piece I couldn't resist.
She wore a tight embroidered dress ith a neckline that just wasn't there, and I kept waiting (and hoping) for one of her boobs to plop into the soup.
There were six of us at the table, including the kids. Both Tania and Chet were finicky eaters, but they admitted it was a super dinner and cleaned their plates. After dessert the kids disappeared somewhere, and the four of us sat around awhile and chatted as we finished the wine.
Then Gregory and Marleen started talking shop, and Mabel and I wandered out to the backyard where I could smoke a cigar. Marleen didn't let me do it in the house. it was a gorgeous Summer night, just cool enough to be comfortable. it wasn't a full moon, but there to was enough of it so I could see the gleam of Mabel's semi-exposed balloons.
"That's a great dress you're almost wearing," I told her. , "You like it?" she said, pleased.
"Love it," I assured her. "I'd buy Marleen something like it but it would be a waste of money, she'd never fill it the way you do."
"I'm glad you approve," Mabel said. "I wore it to a cocktail party last Saturday, and I got a lot of compliments.
"And passes from the guys," I guessed.
By that time we had strolled to the end of the backyard and were standing near a little herb garden Marleen had planted.
"Have you been thinking about it?" I asked her in a low voice.
"Thinking about what?"
"Don't play games, Mabel. You and me."
"You said you were going to move out and get a motel room," she reminded me. "But you're still here.
"That doesn't change how I feel about you. I found a motel.
How about it?"
"Where is it?"
"The motel? Down near Lauderdale. Way off in the boondocks.
Nothing elegant, but it's clean and away from everything. No one would ever spot us. We could meet there.
She didn't say anything.
"Look," I said, "I guess you know you drive me nuts. I don't think of anything but you. Even in my dreams. When you walked in tonight, I thought my knees were going to buckle. That's how you affect me. Do you ever think about me that way?"
"Yes," she said. "Frequently. But I'm scared."
"Nothing to be scared about, I told her. "No one's going to find out.
Nothing's going to change-except us. it'll be great for both of us, I just know."
Again she didn't reply. But I've been a salesman all my life, and I know the first rule of successful huckstering, Keep talking.
"I Greg such a great lover?" I asked her.
No, she said, "he isn't."
"Well, I am," I said. "And that's not bragging, it's the truth. I know how to pleasure a woman. Things I'll bet you've never even thought of."
"You're getting to me, Herm," she said with a throaty laugh.
"If I decide it's a go-and notice I say if-how do we manage it?"
"Easiest thing in the world. We pick a time that's right for both of us. I'll give you the address and directions how to get there. You drive out in your own car. I'll get there first and be waiting for you.
Believe me, you'll have no hassle at the desk. You're just visiting a guest at the motel-me. I'll be using my own name. That's how sure I am that we'll have no problems."
"I'm still scared," she said. "I've shacked up at motels, but that was when I was single. I've never cheated on Greg before."