Unter

"Newlies?" I asked with a slight pause; then I remembered our conversation from a while back, before we were married. "You mean like in rookies?"

Laurel chuckled and said, "Yeah; Jerry has me tagged to help a mobile app development team coming in from a company in Texas to get our help. They may be new at this, but they appear to have their act together. And I don't know yet exactly what they are developing, but they've gone out of their way to bring in some major talent."

We did not talk any more about business all that night. In fact, the only sounds we made during that time were grunts, soft cries, giggles, and lovingly-delivered terms of endearment to one another.

The next day, Laurel and I entered another dry spell when it came to being able to have relaxing times of an evening, followed by spontaneous sex. It was not always Laurel's fault; I was traveling more as well. But, during those times when I was home, Laurel was coming in later and more exhausted that either of us would have liked. But, we trusted simply to faith that this period would not last, and that we would be back to normal after a while.

The anticipated visiting development team came in from Houston and leased a suite from Regus out on Centergreen Way right there in Cary. This group, called Star Power Developers, was developing a special, super-secret Smartphone and Tablet app of some sort, and requested a development support effort from XLT, for which they would pay up front. Everyone at XLT who was assisting them in implementing XLT's app framework and adapting it to meet the needs of the app developers from Houston was sworn to secrecy and made to sign a special ironclad non-disclosure agreement.

Laurel was obviously very excited to be working on this new project. And she got even more excited now that the project team from the company in Texas had actually arrived in the area and had begun their work. She was particularly thrilled to be working with Cameron Whittington, a prominent rising star "hired gun" in the software development world in general, and a prominent member of the team from Houston. Cam was extremely skilled and innovative in the software development field, having received his training at Cal Poly.

The only downside that I personally saw in all of this was that Cam was also a very handsome and charismatic guy. He was not only single; he was very flirtatious with the ladies, even in public around the offices and during the social gatherings with spouses or significant others held by XLT for the visiting teams that were using their new Zirka software engine. Cam never appeared to cross any lines, but he came damned close at times.

Much to my displeasure, Laurel quite naturally had to go silent on details about all of this work in our conversations after she signed the visiting team's special NDA. Before that, I had been hearing a lot of praises for Cameron Whittington, along with some of the general details of her work. But suddenly, references to the project and to Cam and his team's work came to a stop. I had not consciously noted this shift in conversational rhythm at the time, or my wife's need to work at Whittington's team offices in the rented space late into the evening more often, until much later.

* * * *

Worries about the possible stability of my marriage now began to develop in my thinking as my conversation progressed with Wick Pettigrew in Milwaukee.

I finished my drink and begged off for another that Wick offered, or for any adventure that Wick might be able to arrange for me via his Smartphone and his special membership in that Unter hook-up service. I took the elevator up to my room and contemplated the implications of what I had learned this evening until around two a.m. Then exhaustion eventually put me under. But just before finally drifting off, I could not help but wonder about the things I'd last seen on my friend's Smartphone screen.

I knew for a fact that the email address that my wife, Laurel, used for her non-business communications was 'PackLover721' at our home email domain dot com.

It just could not be what it appeared to be...or could it?

Could it actually be that my wife, Laurel, was involved in this high-tech cheating thing? Was she some sort of cyber-callgirl?

My last thought before drifting off was that I needed more information; and I needed Wick's help.

* * * *

The next morning, I got to the Doubletree's restaurant before Wick. I was finishing up some eggs, sausages, and hashbrowns. Up North, the customer gets hashbrowns potatoes instead of grits for his or her morning starch. Then Wick walked in.

I took note that Wick had a bit of bleariness to his eyes, indicating that he had not had much sleep -- probably for a different reason than me. The corners of his mouth were curved up slightly in the beginnings of what would more than likely become some kind of shit-eating grin by the time breakfast was over. My prediction was borne out when he caught sight of me. I chuckled to myself upon seeing his expression. Despite my own misgivings as to how my own personal situation might be eroding at home, Wick seemed to be doing all right here on the road.

"Wow, Bud," said Wick as he sat and took the obligatory cup of coffee handed to him by the passing waitress. As she turned to head back to the counter, he continued. "That lady last night; whew!"

I waited as he paused to mix in three creamer cups and six sugar packets into his cup of coffee and drink that disgustingly corrupted mess. I took mine black and could not understand how anyone could add so much shit to their coffee and still claim to enjoy it.

"So, I take it that the young lady was satisfactory?" I inquired. Then I held up one hand and said, "I'm not asking for you to kiss and tell, mind you; I understand that a gentleman does not engage in such practice."

Wick looked over at the clearly visible buffet line, and said, "No; that's all right. I don't mind telling you. First, she was not that young -- early thirties -- and her husband is a doctor who is also a compulsive sled dog racing hobbyist."

I was stunned!

"Her husband ...I thought I heard you say she was divorced; and ..." I could not go any farther with what I had to say at that moment; so I grabbed by coffee mug and took a deep swallow. I regretted it instantly, as I had not realized that the waitress had sneaked in and warmed me up. I should say that she had set me up to be scalded! I coughed and reached for my ice water after spilling the coffee mug a bit in setting it down too quickly in order to address the pain in my throat.

Once I had settled into simple discomfort in the place of scalding heat from the coffee, I leaned in close and almost hissed my next comment to my friend, "I can't believe that you ..."

"Whoa, Hoss," said Wick. "I didn't know she was still married until we were talking in the shower this morning right before she dressed to leave. She left that part of her profile a little vague when I checked it online before confirming the engagement. If I had known she was still married, I wouldn't have arranged to meet her. I got this thing about cheating spouses of either gender. I absolutely WILL NOT cheat on my own wife, once I finally do settle down, nor will I tolerate her doing it, nor even any of the folks that we end up associating with doing it.

"I remember growing up in a joint custody situation with my own mom and dad," continued Wick. "It was pure hell. And I will not contribute to that; not if I can help it."

"So, why are you wearing such a satisfied smile, then?" I asked.

"Hey," Wisk answered with his own form of pragmatic logic. "I didn't find out about her marital status until right before she left this morning; but, before that, the sex was fan-fucking-tastic; and so was she!"

Try as I might, being a healthy male, I just simply could not fault his logic at that point.

We'd finished breakfast and Wick had about an hour to kill before he was due to leave for his meeting downtown. I had about three hours before my newly-scheduled aircraft was to board out at Mitchell and it was only about a half-hour drive from where I was. So I asked my friend to help me, since I'd started to wonder about some unexplained things in my own marriage, starting with the eerie similarities in the types of projects at work that my wife had been working on recently, and the app that Wick had shown me the night before; that plus what I had seen on his phone's screen.

"Wick," I said, "you know that Laurel and I are happily married and that I would never cheat on her; right?"

"Yeah," Wick answered, "and I'm sure that she would never cheat on you either." He must have seen something in my expression right at that moment; because he immediately frowned and said, "Right?"

I took a deep breath and said, "I hope not. I mean ... I don't have any proof that she is. And she has not given me any indication that she is not happy being married to me."

Uncharacteristically, Wick remained quiet as I paused.

"But there is just ... something ..." I stammered out, "I can't quite put my finger on what it is yet. But something is out of whack." Here, I took another sip of my coffee; this time, it was a bit cooler, and thus I was able to enjoy it without incinerating the cells in my throat.

"But my feelings of unease started right about the time you showed me that phone app last night," I said. Wick sat up and his eyebrows climbed upward toward his hairline. Before he could respond, I went on.

"I have decided that I want you to refer me to this Unter service as a potential member," I said to my shocked friend. "I want ... no; I need ... to check something out thoroughly."

"You are going to try to fix what's wrong with your marriage by going on the prowl," Wick said sarcastically, "yeah, that makes a whole hell of a lot of sense."

"No," I answered. "I am not going on the prowl for pussy ... just for information."

* * * *

I must admit that I had to put on an Academy Award performance on Wednesday evening when I finally got home after picking up my car in the lot at RDU. Laurel greeted me at home with a scorching hot kiss and, after I told her that I'd eaten an early supper in the Milwaukee Airport right before boarding, she dragged me off to the bedroom for some hot loving before we turned in for the rest of the night.

I held off about saying anything about the doubts that had begun to form in my mind over the past day or so. Even though it had been a long day of travel, followed by a vigorous bout of mind-blowing sex at bedtime, I still didn't get to sleep until sometime after I last checked the bedside clock at two-thirty.

* * * *

"I just got a reply," said Wick to me a week later. "It was a text saying that you've been checked out and passed the cursory initial check, and that you are going to be sent an email with a hot link to get you in to the Unter web site. Once you get there, you can get your profile started.

"Remember," Wick continued, "the app won't get downloaded to your phone until after you set up a profile and they can get your background more thoroughly checked out and get your credit card information on record."

"Thanks, Wick," I said to my friend. "Remember, word of this is not to get out ... to anyone; especially Mike or Laurel." I had informed Wick in Milwaukee days before that there were some things that might have been just a spooky coincidence. Thus, I did not want to cry, 'Wolf,' if this were all just that -- a coincidence. But, I simply had to check it out to ease my own mental discomfort.

"Yeah, I understand," Wick answered. "I hope that this is all just a wild goose chase, My Friend. I would hate think that Laurel ... well; you know."

"Yeah," I assured him, "I know. Me too. Later." I hit the 'end' hot spot on my phone and turned back to the monitor of my desktop computer.

Surprisingly, when I checked my email client, I already had the auto-generated message from the Unter service. I clicked on the hot link. I know; I am not supposed to click on hot links in emails, in order not to fall for phishing attempts by scammers. But, this was one occasion in which I was deliberately going to ignore that admonition against bad information assurance practices.

It only took me a relatively short time to establish my Unter profile. I guess I spent maybe thirty minutes at the most in completing all the online questions that they posed. A lot of the information they wanted initially was typical contact information and the minimal credit card information necessary to bill me. Then it got a little more personal.

The questions about my sexual and relational preferences were actually pretty innocuous. I must say that I was kinda surprised, actually. I did read the disclaimer and the admonition about following the rules, especially the one about timely 'event follow-up ratings.' When I finished, a message on screen informed me that, once the profile information had been vetted, the Unter Android app version would be downloaded to my own HTC Smartphone; I was to allow up to a week.

It actually only took two days. I saw the 'download complete' icon at the top of my home screen on my phone on the morning the app had arrived. When I pulled down the notifications screen, I saw an indicator that I needed to touch the 'OK' hot spot in order to complete the download.

I did so and the white-Iota-inside-a-black-background icon for the Unter app showed up on my second Android screen. My home screen was already full of icons for apps that I used regularly. That was okay with me; it kept the Unter icon off my home page so that it could not be noticed in idle passing.

Okay; now I had the app. Now what? I finally had to admit to myself that I really had no clue how to proceed at this point.

* * * *

Meanwhile, my relationship with Laurel actually still moved along quite normally. Even though we were both busier at work than we had been in the previous year, we were actually getting to spend more time together following my return from my most recent Spokane trip.

I saw no indications of anything in Laurel's work or daily home habits that showed any change in her schedule. I saw no change in her demeanor that might indicate any difference in how she related to me or felt about me.

Oh, yeah; and the sex was still mind-blowing.

"Honey," Laurel said one evening about a week following the arrival of my new Smartphone app, "Mom and Dad want us to come over to visit this weekend. Do you have anything scheduled that might conflict?"

Laurel looked at me with that lovely expectant smile on her face to which I had grown so accustomed. I loved the two or three small freckles on either side of her nose that were the only spots of color on her otherwise smooth and gorgeous face. She flicked her hand up to whisk away an errant strand of her shiny Chesnutt hair with only mildly discernable highlights.

"No; I have nothing on tap for the weekend. I think it would be really nice to see Hoke and Daisy this weekend," I said with a smile.

* * * *

The two-hour drive over to Winston-Salem was uneventful. With the weather cooperating, it looked as if it was going to be a beautiful weekend. Hoke, Laurel's dad, had assembled all the materials necessary to burn meat on the grill to just the point of delicious edibility, as was his habit about once a month. Daisy, Laurel's mom, had done all the rest of the initial preparations.

By noon, things were getting underway out back at stately Redmond Manor -- to borrow from the old TV Batman cliché. Actually, it was a really nice house; just a bit large for my taste, and probably a bear for Daisy to keep clean without the maid service that I knew she used.

I began to notice that something was just a bit off kilter with Laurel and how she was interacting with her sister, my brother's wife, Marilee. It seemed to be affecting Daisy's overall well-being too.

My brother, Mike, and I were bullshitting with Hoke Redmond as the old man tended the grill and we sipped our beer. I don't remember just what we were talking about, but I noticed at one point that Laurel and Marilee were in what appeared to be a conversation that was anything but relaxed.

The two sisters had always appeared to be almost twins to me from when I had first met them. Their physical attributes were almost identical, though Marilee was just a tad bit taller. This day, they were both wearing grey women's slacks. They also wore blouses that were similar in cut, if not in color, showing similar tastes in casual clothes. I noted that, while they were speaking in low tones, so that they could not be overheard, their body language screamed, "Anger!"

Later, as I was taking a piss in the first floor hall bathroom, I overheard Laurel and Marilee walking by the closed door, still engaged in their emotionally-charged conversation. I could only hear vague murmurs until they were right outside the door of the bathroom. Then I could detect one very clear phrase from one of them, although I could not tell which.

"You had better think carefully about all of this. Infidelity is just not an acceptable way to be going; and you know it ... I mean ..."

And then the two of them had passed on down the hall, so that I could not discern any more of their spoken words. By the time I had dried my hands and opened the bathroom door to check out the two sisters, and who had been addressing whom, they had already moved on down the hall and outside to the patio.

I reached into the back right pocket of the slacks that I wore and pulled out my Smartphone. I went into the empty library across the hall and awakened my phone from its electronic slumber by touching the Iota icon of the Unter app. I needed to check something out.

I knew Laurel always had her phone with her. I used the search/discovery tool to determine if any female Unter subscribers might be nearby. It only took about twenty seconds for the list view to reveal at least six available female users within a ten-mile radius of where I was located. I recognized one user ID among them. My spirits began to sink a bit, before my anger began to grow.

I touched the hot spot for the map feature. Yep! The user ID of interest was highlighted with a pop-out and a pointer placing its exact location at the moment.

PackLover721 was located at the same map location where I was standing. She was here!

* * * *

"You are awfully quiet, Baby," Laurel said to me as I drove back to Cary on Sunday afternoon. "You okay?"

"Um-hmm," I said in an off-hand manner. I'm afraid my mind was still turning over all that I had discovered to this point and I was not really paying attention to my wife. As I engaged my mind in another direction in order to keep up my supposedly unconcerned front, I decided to deflect a bit. "Are you and Marilee doing okay? I thought I detected a bit of frostiness between the two of you this weekend."

Laurel turned to look straight ahead and her expression was one of put-on indifference. "Yes, we're okay. Sometimes her sense of humor can get under my skin a bit though."

"Oh," I said, "Well, as close as you two seem to have always been, I'm sure that this little tiff can't last very long."

Laurel did not respond verbally, but shrugged and sighed. Then she flipped the lever to let her seat back recliner and laid her head back against the head rest and closed her eyes in what could have been simply a non-verbal indication that she wanted to rest, or else a way to withdraw from any further conversation.

* * * *

When we were sipping some wine after supper Monday evening, Laurel informed me that she was going to be helping out another visiting software development team for the rest of the week; and probably into the next one as well.

"It may cause me to be late getting home a few times over the next week or two," Laurel said. "The folks coming in are interested in seeing how to use the Zirka software framework in putting together a mobile app for finding gas at the lowest price within a given geographic area."