Jolene

"A walking wet dream?" Paul offered when Frank paused.

Frank laughed. "I guess I was going to use a more romantic term. But, yeah, she's everything a guy wants, not just physically, but the way she acts. She's the whole package." He bit his lip in thought for a second.

"And, well, she really likes me. I mean, she's made some...uh...suggestions that we ought to get a little closer and I'm pretty damn sure I wouldn't...strike out...if I pushed. But, I guess...I guess I want to be able to look myself in the mirror and know that I didn't do anything wrong. That I didn't cheat or compromise my vows even though I know most guys wouldn't blame me for taking her to bed. I really just want to have a clear conscience, you know?"

Paul shrugged and smiled. "OK, that makes sense I guess. But...Frank, if it were me, well, I don't think I'd worry so much about having a clear conscience." He gave a wink to Frank and then checked his watch.

"Oh man, seriously, we have to get the rest of this stuff in the truck. It's almost 3:30 and you said Becky gets off at 4:30. If we want to avoid her..."

"Yeah, I definitely want to avoid her." Frank said, standing up. "I really don't want to hear any of her bullshit."

"She keep feeding you crap?"

"I still haven't talked to her since I left."

"Not at all?"

"Nope. She had plenty of chances before I left to talk and she wouldn't and now, honestly, I just don't want to hear it. There's nothing she can say that would make me change my mind and I don't feel any obligation to try and make her feel better. Like you advised, I'm moving on and making a clean break and anything she says won't help with that."

---0---

Jolene returned to the table and carefully, gracefully settled herself into the seat next to Frank, smiling the whole time.

"Where'd Bobby go?"

"Ah, he had some sort of an emergency I guess." There was an awkward, pregant pause and Frank found himself changing the subject abruptly. "Hey, Paul and Angie are still in line over at the dessert bar. You want to get some now?"

"No, thanks, I'm fine. I've had plenty."

There was silence again and Jolene tried to start a conversation, talking about the project, some of the people she'd just met, the decorations, but Frank wasn't getting involved, giving one word answers or simply nodding his head in reply to her questions or statements.

"Frank, you seem...bothered or distracted or something. Is anything wrong?"

Frank cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.

"It's not a big deal, but, it turns out that Becky is here and..."

Jolene sat back abruptly and her face suddenly looked like she'd eaten something incredibly bitter, her eyes scrunched nearly shut and her lips pinched together in an unpleasant pucker while Frank continued.

"...well, I just don't want to have a scene...like..."

"Like at the Christmas party?" Jolene interjected, her face relaxing some.

"Yeah."

Jolene took a deep breath, smiled and reached over to pat Frank's hand. "Well, I'm a little surprised that she's here, but, honestly, thinking about it, I'm not really worried, baby. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't cause a scene again. Last Christmas...I think she was just trying to make you jealous."

Frank snorted. "I think she was just trying to pick up some guy. I mean, she had no reason to make me jealous, I was her husband for crying out loud."

Jolene shook her head, a knowing smile on her face, the kind of smile a mother wears when a child expresses innocent ignorance about the workings of the world.

"Frank, I think she had plenty to be jealous about. At least in her mind."

Frank wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. "What are you talking about? I never gave her any reason..."

Jolene unintentionally laughed, quickly covering her mouth to partially diminish her reaction.

"Oh, Frank. Come on. We've both...behaved. But, really, you and I have been very close for a while now and we haven't exactly been discrete about it."

"What are you talking about? Before I left Becky, before she cheated, we never gave anyone the impression that we were in a relationship."

Jolene tipped her head and took in Frank's assertion with a slightly amused and incredulous look. "Remember the NetSol picnic last summer Frank? How about that?"

"What about it? We spent some time together and..."

"Frank, we spent two hours in a canoe together and a fair amount of time after that. At least 4 different women asked about 'my new boyfriend' and wanted to know how serious it was."

A surprised and faintly puzzled look came to Frank's face. "Well...maybe...but, we were just..." Frank brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed it slowly. "Even if, maybe we...spent too much time in that canoe, that was months before the Christmas party and...she never said anything and I never gave her any other reason to think that...that..."

"Oh Frank, are you sure? You never talked too much about me or smiled too many times when my name was mentioned?" She leaned forward and spoke more quietly, almost conspiratorially. "You never called my name when you were...together?"

"No, no, I never..."

Jolene shook her head. "Ah Frank, honestly, you're just...clueless about this. Yes, Frank, yes you did. You did all the time."

"No...I didn't...I...wait, how would you know..." Frank was sputtering, unable to form the words to ask a complete question.

"I know because..." Jolene sighed, blowing air out of her mouth in a slow, controlled exhalation. "Look Frank, she told me. She told me that nearly every time you were in bed and you were...excited... that you'd say my name. It was...hard for her." Frank's mouth and eyes popped open in surprise and he started to say something but Jolene stopped him with an upraised hand.

"Look, she made me promise not to tell you that she'd talked to me. And honestly, she was so upset and I felt so bad for her, that I made that promise and I swore to myself that I'd try and back away from you. That I'd try to do the right thing. But...when I found out she cheated on you, that she threw your marriage away, well, I didn't think I needed to stay away at all. If the silly bitch was willing to step out herself, I didn't see any reason I had to stay away from the man I want. And I guess I don't see why I need to keep my promise to not tell you about that night either."

"That night? What night? Did she call? What?"

"No, she came in person, to my apartment. I'd been working and when I got home she was waiting for me in front of the door. She must have been there for hours because I got home pretty late. Evidently she'd come to see me a couple of times before, but got scared and left before I got there. But that night, she said she was determined to confront me-confront us really- because she thought we'd be together." Jolene stopped to take a sip of wine while Frank slowly shook his head with a stunned and confused look on his face.

"So, yeah, she was convinced we were having an affair and she thought her best shot was to show up and fight for you, not literally, of course. But, you know, by competing, the way women do." She waited for Frank to respond, to show that he understood what she was saying but all he could muster was a weak little nod. Jolene sighed and continued.

"So, she was wearing this beautiful black dress and pearls and she'd obviously taken a lot of time on her hair and makeup...maybe too much makeup...but still she looked..."

"What...what night was this?" Frank's voice was becoming dull and robotic.

"What night? It was when the server crashed. Remember? We thought we were going to have to work really late and..."

---0---

Frank could no longer hear what Jolene was saying, his mind working frantically through new facts, facts that had been rapidly bringing a new truth to his consciousness, and as it did, the old truth retreated, becoming, instead, an ugly mistake, an expanding, festering wound on his conscience.

The thoughts had taken the form of clearly seen images with superimposed, perfectly remembered audible memories flashing in and out of his mind at breakneck speed.

The image of Becky, guiltily averting her eyes when he spoke of trust, hearing Jolene's voice:

"...we spent two hours in a canoe together and a fair amount of time after that. At least 4 different women asked about 'my new boyfriend'..."

-

The strange onset of Becky's disinterested avoidance of sex and, when they did have it, the memory of her sudden loss of interest and passion, of her rolling away from him, sulking, angry and cold; all while hearing:

"She told me that nearly every time you were in bed and you were...excited... that you'd say my name..."

-

The rage he felt when she came home late wearing the sexy black dress that was supposed to be reserved for special occasions for him, certain she'd worn it for her lover:

"...she thought her best shot was to show up and fight for you... she was wearing this beautiful black -dress and pearls..."

-

His feeling of angry frustration and incredulousness when she refused to say where she'd been and who she'd been with, hearing his own voice explain why:

"...if I hear that you have spoken to her or yelled at her, if she tells me she got a nasty phone call from you or a snide remark at some event or anything at all that upsets her, I'm going to go ape shit..."

-

The stunning, overwhelming confirmation of his suspicions when he found the notes that read 'I will lose my marriage if I don't stop this affair', newly understood in a different light:

"...that night, she said she was determined to confront me-confront us really- because she thought we'd be together... she was convinced we were having an affair..."

-

And then more sounds, more recollections taken randomly and intermixed from the distant and more recent past, invading and relentlessly slicing his wounded conscience wider and wider.

"Do you, Francis Angelo Portis take Rebecca Ann Smithson as your lawfully wedded wife ..."

"You know I love you, don't you Frank? That you are the only man for me..."

"...to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse...

"...but it's too late now Becky. Too damn late. Because I'm done. You know what? I don't even care who it is anymore. I'm done. We're done..."

...for richer, for poorer in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish..."

"...are you sure you aren't avoiding Becky because you don't want to risk what you've got going with Jolene?"

...till death do you part, according to God's Holy Ordinance?"

"...I want to be able to look myself in the mirror and know that I didn't do anything wrong."

And then, suddenly he could hear again, he could hear his name, sounding like a distant echo, bringing him back to the gala, to the food and the booze and to Jolene.

"Frank...Frank...what's wrong Frank? You're totally zoned out..."

Frank took in the incomparably beautiful face, the clear, alabaster skin, the abundant auburn hair falling in thick curls to her shoulders, the china white teeth and the sensuous, full lips and saw the truth. Saw that he wanted her perfect face and perfect body and he'd wanted it enough to sacrifice his marriage to the only woman he'd loved, if he could only find a way without lacerating his conscience. And he had.

"Oh, God, Jolene...oh, God..."

---0---

"This was a bad idea Bobby."

Becky was seated at a table with Bobby and another couple she'd assiduously avoided talking to all evening while she struggled over and over again to get a look at Frank, sitting with Jolene at a table near the front. She could see them, deep in the middle of what appeared to be an emotional exchange when he'd looked up and saw her sitting there, gazing back at him through the crowded room. He looked back to Jolene and continued an animated discussion, gesturing once, twice, a third time in her direction and then, he stood up, looked toward her and started walking.

"He's mad and he's going to ask me to leave. It's going to be horrible. He thinks I'm going to make a scene like I did at..."

"Maybe," Bobby interrupted. "But at least you'll get your chance...your chance to clear the air. You wanted this, it's your show now." Bobby scooted back, away from Becky, effectively leaving her alone as Frank approached.

Frank was walking slowly, hesitantly, picking his way through the tables carefully. But, he was walking with a purpose and his demeanor carried a drama that first caught the attention of a man at the rostrum who was preparing to make some announcements. His gaze directed members of the audience toward Frank and, one by one, table by table, their attention was turned to Frank as he moved forward to Becky. With each step the room's collective consciousness became more focused on him, conversations going out one after another, the room becoming ever more quiet with each footfall. Strangely quiet. Quiet as a Church.

And then he stopped, wavering slightly, breathing raggedly, standing silently in front of the seated form of Becky. She was sitting perfectly upright, her hands folded politely in her lap, her soft hair tied up loosely, wearing a pretty white dress, simple and modest and pure, a dress that may have been better suited to a wedding than a party.

For a few moments, neither spoke, but Becky made several abortive tries, her mouth opening and closing half a dozen times. Finally, with what appeared to be a great effort, she broke the silence.

"Frank, I...I didn't cheat on you." She said simply with a cracking voice. "I just wanted you to know that. That I wouldn't cheat on you." He only nodded slowly, but when he didn't respond verbally, she continued.

"I know that I can't compete with...with her, and I'm going to have a very hard time without you. But, at least I wanted you to know that I was faithful. I don't think I could go on at all if you'd left thinking that I'd cheated on you. That I'd betrayed you. I'm not sure I can live without you, but I know that I can't live with the thought of you hating me. Please, Frank...please believe me."

Their eyes stayed locked for a few moments, and Frank began softly trembling, still unable to speak, his eyes becoming glassy and then wet. And then finally he took a single tentative step toward Becky and produced a quiet gasp from her that was echoed by the watchers as he abruptly sank to his knees as if before an altar, taking her hands in his, saying nothing, still looking into her eyes. Becky's expression was one of shock and then uncertainty. She gently pulled her right hand away and, with a faltering motion, softly put it to the side of Frank's face, feeling a tear drip over her thumb.

"Frank?"

"Becky...I'm...I'm so sorry Becky. I didn't...I love you Becky and I'm...so, so sorry."

Becky took in the words of her kneeling husband, the sorrow in his voice, the expression on his face and the gentle touch of his hands and in a sudden, exhilarating epiphany, realized that a miracle had occurred; that her husband not only believed her, but still loved her. He had come back to her.

She burst into tears.

---0---

"If you want, I can take you home."

Bobby had approached Jolene as she sat, tears in her eyes, watching what everyone else in the room was seeing. After kneeling in front of Becky for a few minutes, Frank stood and lifted her up with him, took her into his arms and kissed her, long and romantic, passionate yet gentle, the kind of kiss a groom gives his bride. Then, without breaking eye contact, he took her hand and began leading her toward the exit.

"Oh God, I really, really wanted him. I had no idea that...that this would happen. I thought maybe we'd, I don't know..." Jolene's voice was breaking as she spoke.

Bobby gave her a sympathetic look, but found himself trying to suppress a grin. "You know, I think things will turn out ok for you. You will always have plenty of options."

"Yeah, maybe." She starred glumly at the exit as Frank and Becky finally left the room.

"Well, let's get you home." He smiled at her as warmly as he could. "For what it's worth, Jolene, I think you are about the only woman in the world that could have turned Frank's head away from Becky, even for a little bit."

She gave a sad smile back to Bobby and shrugged. "Maybe. But, that's kind of cold comfort, isn't it?" She took a deep breath through her nose and let it out in a long, wistful sigh. "I guess I just want what she has, what they have."

"So does everybody," Bobby said, helping her up. "So does everybody."