Young people today have an acronym for it: BFF or best friends forever. But, as is often the case in the real world, “forever” is a word that has no substantive meaning. For me, James Clausen, and my best friend Rodney Pollard, both currently and commonly 27 years old, the acronym had, however, been meaningful since the second grade.

Yes we were tight the two of us. And the nature of things being what they were, the gods seemed to making a point that the two of us would in fact be family to each the other. That in part because both his parents and mine had died together in an auto accident the night of our common graduation from high school. That particular tragedy had forced us to lean on each other for some time. His parents had left him money, a lot of money, and he didn’t blow it. He’d been raised right. Mine had left me little insurance too, but nothing like my bud’s fortune. But, I was able to get a job almost immediately which insured that I’d be able to take care of my eighteen year old self no problem.

To kind of reemphasize the point being made here: the two of us were—“were” being the operative term—closer than two actual blood siblings. Rodney had been best man at my and the then Claire Woodrew’s wedding which is another salient fact per this story. That wedding occurred three years gone.

At any rate, all of that was then; and this is now, and things are very different, as indicated, in the current now; but let’s not get ahead of things; this story is complicated enough as it is. Boy is it ever.

******

Again, the name is James Clausen. I’m 27 years old as of last month. I am three years married to the most beautiful woman in the world, Claire Clausen nee Woodrew: age 26, five-ten, and one-twenty-five, 34B’s, and a backside that can make a grown man cry with longing.

I labor for Allied Shipping. We basically ship farm produce to supermarkets and some restaurant chains all over the southern part of the state. I’m one of the truck drivers: pay’s good, and the benefits the usual teamster package. So yeah, Claire and I are doing okay. Oh, and she doesn’t work, strictly the all American housewife. No kids at this point though we have been talking.

I’d met Claire at a company party, our company’s. She was on the arm of one of the managers, an office guy. She looked good, but she looked out of place on the guy’s arm. I decided to take a flyer at some point during the little soirée. There’d be dancing and nonsense, read drinking, after the three course dinner, the inevitable speeches, and the awards handed out to deserving bureaucrats. Us drivers and loading dock workers never got awards, well, we’re union. We do get invited to the parties though and most of us were more than willing to settle for that.

“Excuse me, ma’am, might I have the honor of this dance?” I said. I was displaying way more confidence than I felt. The woman glanced at her date. He shrugged, and we were off and flowing with the traffic.

As a dancer, I can claim that I can more than hold my own, but she was even better than I was. We stayed out on the floor for two more dances before I felt compelled to return her to mister wrong guy. But three dances were long enough.

Just before I did the honorable thing, I went for it. “Any chance you’d like to have dinner with a blue collar guy like me?” I said.

“A date? A date with you?” she said.

“None other,” I said. She smiled.

“Maybe,” she said, “how’s your memory?”

“Huh? Okay I guess,” I said.

“Good, it’s 997 555 1212,” she said. I didn’t have to ask her what it was that I was supposed to remember.

Delivering her back to her table and politely, if a bit insincerely, thanking the guy for his patience; I handed her off and headed back to my table where Henry Goodman, my fellow tablemate for the evening was signing for a couple of drinks for us. I literally yanked the pen from his hand and wrote her number down on my wrist.

“Scored?” he said.

“Maybe,” I said. “She did give me her number.”

“Looks like a winner to me,” he said.

And it was and she was.

******

My arm slid down the length of her naked and sweaty body cupping the now soaked and slippery cleft between her long and very shapely legs.

She shivered at my touch. “That tickles,” she said, but she was smiling.

I rolled on top of her, and kissed her. It was a long and sensuous kiss. “Suffer. That was the best ever,” I said.

“It was good,” she said. “You got me off the second time.”

“I could tell by the screams,” I said.

“Yeah, well don’t forget the formula,” she said.

“I’ll be writing it down in the morning,” I said.

The wedding was three months later. My best bud, Rodney Pollard, was best man. A girlfriend of Claire’s, Jenna Courtland, was maid of honor.

The next three years were wonderful; well, they were for me. We had ourselves a four bedroom ranch style—2000 square feet—in the north San Fernando Valley. Three baths, two car garage, and two cars to park in it, well, one car, mine was a pickup truck. Oh, and no kids, not yet, but as mentioned, we were thinking about it.

******

Our third anniversary night of fun and frolic had been a sexual marathon. She had rolled out of our bed and headed into the bathroom. It took her half an hour to clean the stink of sex off of her. When she came out I went in, same purpose. I only took ten minutes; I guess I was less smelly.

I plopped down on the probably damaged mattress and looked over at her; I was still horny.

“I need to sleep and so do you,” she said, sensing my intentions. “Tomorrow’s a work day for you.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. I hate Mondays,” I said.

“Yes, well, they need good and alert drivers to get the produce of our American farms to the populace at large, and you are integral to that effort as the driver of one of those great big trucks,” she said, laughing. “Oh and you do need to continue supporting this woman, don’t forget that.”

“Yes, you are pretty high maintenance,” I said. “But it is an honor to be able to fulfill your many and varied needs and wants.”

“So, you’ll be home at the usual time,” she said, turning the conversation to another topic.

“Yes, but if something changes I’ll call,” I said.

“Good, that’ll give me a chance to kick my lover out before you arrive to discomfit us,” she said.

“Oh for sure,” I said. “And, it will keep me from having to kill the guy too. I mean there’s an upside to everything.”

“Yes, well that’s true isn’t it,” she said.

******

The coffee was hot, the breakfast good, and the kiss goodbye the best; she waved to me as I drove off to support her very important person. It had been a good night had the night before. Claire Clausen was one very good piece, and she was mine.

******

She watched as his pickup truck faded into the traffic beyond. She sighed. He was a good man was her man, her husband, but boring. The afternoon would make up for it though: she definitely had the cure for “boring.”

She headed back inside to the kitchen. She made the call. She heard it ring. She heard him pick up.

“Yes, it’s me...Yes he’s gone to work…after lunch…Yes, I have to clean up some…Okay good.” She hung up. The man would be on time. One thing about Rodney Pollard, her husband’s best bud, he was never late for anything.

Dishes done, kitchen cleaned, shower taken, now to do a little housework and wait. She poured herself a second cup of Columbia’s best. She took hers strong, black, and unadulterated with sugar, cream, or any other filler. She had long maintained that she drank coffee, not candy.

She’ vacuumed and did a little care giving to her potted plants. She looked up at the clock on the dinette’s wall; it was 1:15.

She heard him pull into the driveway. She frowned. Their house was pretty much cloistered from those nearby, being at the end of the long cul-de-sac as it was, with tall hedges and trees blocking the view from mostly all but helicopter drivers: the operative term being “mostly.” Even so the man could have at least had the sense to park down the street, no use advertising his visits.

He came in through the unlocked side entrance. He strode toward her robe clad form and planted a scorcher on her lips. She pushed him playfully back.

“Park on the street next time, okay!” she said.

“What? Why? Nobody can see anything unless they come up to the driveway entrance,” he said.

“Just do it. It makes me nervous your car being here,” she said.

“Whatever. Okay, from now on it’s down the street,” he said.

Her robe took that moment to fall open exposing her to his view. “My God in heaven you are a beautiful woman,” he said. He was staring and blinking was a non-happening.

“I gathered you thought that,” she said, staring in her own right directly at the bulge at the front of his pants. He merely nodded his response.

Stepping back to her he took her in his arms, kissed her again, and led her unresisting person toward the living room.

He coaxed her to the couch. She’d let her robe fall to the floor where it pooled at her feet. She eased herself into a sitting position on the couch and spread herself wide for him to do his duty. They’d fallen into a pattern that worked for the both of them. He’d eat her pussy to her first orgasm and ream her butt before he even undressed. She’d maintained it, the routine, got her in a mindset to be able to cum more easily when he did disrobe and finally take her.

He massaged the insides of her thighs licking his lips in anticipation of going down on her.

“You smell wonderful,” he said.

She just smiled as he leaned in and began licking and sucking first on her labia and finally her clit. She made little jerking movements as he brought her close to her first cum. God he was good, she thought. If only her unimaginative hubby could do it the way that his best friend could. She’d tried to teach him, her hubby. He just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it; he was always so impatient. Well, it was what it was.

She squirted announcing her fulfillment. She gently pushed him back turning her back to him and assuming a kneeling position on the couch. She pushed her butt back at him almost taunting him. He leaned into her once again and began lapping at her anus. Man she tasted good, he thought. She mewed her appreciation of his appreciation. He adored her for some minutes before literally pulling her down to the floor with him.

He stood dropping his pants and pushing his underpants kneeward. He insinuated a knee between hers coaxing her to spread for him; she did so; he towered over her. Leaning in he gained an easy lodgment of his penis inside of her driving it all of the way in in one slow gentle inexorable stroke. He paused, waiting for her to get settled in for her screwing.

“Now,” she said, “do me.” He didn’t have to be told twice. After some minutes, his moderate seesawing motions got her up close to fulfillment once again. Sensing that she was ready, he began pile driving into her without the slightest regard for her comfort. Nor did the woman ask any quarter: she wanted to be taken hard, and he was doing just that. She screamed her pleasure as she squirted once again.

They lay side by side semi-exhausted. No words were uttered during this time in their ritual. The ritual that they had come to practice once or twice weekly almost since the first days of her marriage to her other man some three years earlier.

“Do you ever think about things? I mean us and Jim and all of it?” he said.

“I try not to dwell on it. We, you and I, are part time; we both know that. I love Jimmy; I need you to kind of fill in the gaps as one might say. But, we’ve talked about all of this before, Rod. The status quo is good enough. I mean isn’t it?” she said.

“So long as we aren’t discovered it’s okay I guess. I could wish that we were free to take things to the next level, but like you say, the status quo is okay,” he said.

“Rodney, I actually do love the guy. In most ways he’s the champ. And no, he is not your equal at you know what,” she said. “It’s just not in him. If it were you might not be here.”

“Yeah, well a woman like you needs a man who is all that in every way not just most ways as you say,” he said.

“Your money is not the draw you think it is,” she said, smiling. “Yes, you’re doing well buying and selling those houses and buildings and such, but so what. Jim makes a living and it’s enough for us. Do I wish we were rich? I guess. It’d be nice, but he’s not and that’s the long and the short of it.”

“Yeah, well, I can dig it. I know where you’re coming from, and it’s good that you’re not some asshole gold digger; it adds to your attraction; it really does,” he said.

“Well, I’m glad you’re attracted,” she said. “You know I don’t feel guilty about what we’re doing. I guess I should, but I don’t. Do you think that’s bad of me?”

“I don’t know. I guess it is, a little bad that is. But I don’t either. I mean I don’t feel any guilt either. You should’ve been mine, but he got in first call, so it is what it is I suppose. Still, sometimes I do feel a bit apprehensive. You know, worried that he might discover us and maybe mess up our lifelong friendship, his and mine, not to mention what you and I have going,” he said.

“Yes, well, I guess you can say the same for me when you get right down to it. Yes, apprehension is the word. And yes, I should’ve been yours and you mine. But, he is one heckuva a husband and a really good guy, so we’ll just keep on sharing and not messin’ with the program. Him finding out would not be good for any of us. So from now on, Mister, park down the damn street! Okay?”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh,” he said.He was a good man, her man, but boring!

******

A man’s hopes and dreams are virtually always, once he reaches adulthood, bound inextricably to the woman of his dreams; assuming of course he has been lucky enough to find such a woman. I had. Claire Clausen, my wife, was that indispensable woman, the woman of my dreams. That didn’t change as I listened to the two of them talking about me. The two of them being my wife of course, and, my soon to be ex-best friend Rodney Pollard. They were still in the bedroom, the guestroom actually. At least they hadn’t had the brass effrontery to be doing each other in my bed, well, Claire’s and mine; I thought that thoughtful of them.

A power outage at the yard and grounded the trucks for the day. That because if the office couldn’t do its thing the trucks couldn’t roll either. Hence, I was home early, very early; it was barely 2:30.

I made the decision to just wait where I was in the hallway until they were done. The more they talked the more I would know. The fact that what I’d already learned in the half hour just past was more than enough notwithstanding.

I heard one of them bounce out of the bed.

“You better get to doing whatever you’ve got to do,” he said. “I have to be going too. I’ve got a couple of afternoon appointments scheduled that are only second to you in importance.” He laughed.

“Yes, well I am glad that I’m in front of your no doubt long list of money making interests and responsibilities,” said my wife.

“You gonna let him have you tonight. I mean you might be a little too stretched out for him to feel much,” he said. Now they both laughed.

My heart broke listening to him talk that way about me, especially him.

“Stop talking about him,” she said. “And as far as whether or not he and I do it tonight is none of your business. Yes, you’re bigger, so what, just let it be, okay? I mean the dissing of my husband.”

“Okay, okay, I love the guy too. I’m just foolin’,” he said.

“I have to get a towel to clean your copious cum off my thighs,” she said.

She wasn’t quite scampering when she came out into the hallway and saw me.

Her eyes got big and her hand went to her mouth in shock. “Jimmy!” she barely whispered. I just nodded.

She ran back inside the room. I heard the muted and excited exchange between the two of them.

“Oh my God!” I heard him exclaim, finally.

It was another minute maybe two before either of them reemerged. I presumed they’d spent those moments dressing. Well, they were dressed when they did come out.

“Jim, I don’t know what to say,” said my used to be best friend. I didn’t immediately respond.

“I know you don’t want to hear anything I have to say right now,” said Rodney, “but you and I—we have to talk sometime. Okay?” he said. I just shrugged, well, it seemed appropriate considering the situation.

Claire, for her part, appeared to be in a state of semi-shock. Well hell, I could relate. The man tendered me a little wave and made his escape.

Claire took a step toward me. She reached out her hand. “Jimmy...”

She’d apparently run out of words. I, for my part, found my voice; it’d been missing for some moments.

“I’ll be moving out right away. Oh, and just so you’ll know, we had a power outage at the yard; everybody got the day off. But it’s early enough that I can find me a place to sack out tonight no problem,” I said.

“No! Jim, please don’t leave me. I know how this looks but it isn’t as bad as in fact I know it looks,” she said.

“Yes it is Claire. It is very bad. And, yes, I do have to move out. What the two of you said about me in there, well, I just don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to deal with it or sure as hell forget it. I just don’t know,” I said.

“Jim, sit down with me. Let me make my case before you do something rash. Please, I beg of you, Jim, really,” she said.

I was on the verge of breaking up. But, in the back of my mind or heart or soul or something, I was for whatever reason curious. What could she possibly want to say to me? There just could not be anything that would make any difference.

“The dinette,” I said. I turned and walked down the hall. Her footsteps followed mine.

I took a seat at the table, she’d followed me, but before she sat, she went into the kitchen. She was gone for but half a minute. She returned with two glasses and an already opened bottle of wine.

“I need it even if you don’t,” she said. I snickered.

“Okay, it’s a little early in the day, but it is a special occasion, I guess,” I said.

“First off, do you want to ask me any questions?” she said. I stared at her. She started to say something when I didn’t immediately respond. But then I short shanked her.

“Yes,” I said, “a couple.” She nodded.

“How long and why?” she sagged back in her seat, looked down, reached for the bottle of wine and poured herself a drink. I pushed my glass toward her across the table; she filled it too.

“How long? I wish you hadn’t asked that, but since you did. Almost since the day we were married, right after our honeymoon actually. We do it about once a week, a little less, a little more, depending. I know hearing that you have to wonder how I could keep it a secret like that for so long,” she said. I nodded for her to continue.

“I could say that I just arranged things so that there would be no doubt that you wouldn’t be home even by accident. I could say that Rodney’s schedule, him being self-employed, made it easy to schedule things. I could say that we live in kind of a secluded place and discovery by neighbors would be unlikely if not actually impossible. But, none of those, true though they all are, is not the main reason,” she said.

“Oh?” I said.

“It was easy to hide it, Jim, because I felt no guilt, so there was no tipping you off by guilty looks or words or what all,” she said, “no tells as the gamblers like to say.”

“You felt no fucking guilt! What the hell!” I said.

“Jim calm down! No, I felt no guilt and for a reason. I know that the actual reason might sound a little strange, I mean to you,” she said, “but...”

“But?” I said, and it was a sarcastic but.

“Jim, I felt no guilt because I saw and see you and me and Rodney as family, the same family. Jim, the three of us are like a nuclear family. Rod was, is, kind of a brother husband to you. So, to me it wasn’t cheating. And, I can tell you, Rod feels the same way,” she said.

I sat there stunned. For the life of me I couldn’t hate the two of them, even after having heard what they thought of me. I went for it. Maybe I could learn to hate them, but for the moment I was just sad.

“Okay, you wanna save this marriage?” I said.

“Yes!” she didn’t quite scream.

“Then give him up, him and his outsized cock,” I said.

“No,” she said. I sneered.

“I’ll be moving out today. Have a bad life you and my used to be best friend who just became my worst enemy,” I said. I was kinda surprised; it hadn’t taken very long for me to learn to hate them, the both of them.

“Jim, rethink this. We can get by this. It’s not the bad thing that you, understandably, think it is at the moment. Really it’s not,” she said.

“The hell you say,” I said. “I will not be your willing cuckold!” I got up and went to our room and started packing. At least the stink of their sex didn’t permeate the atmosphere in there. There really is after all an upside to everything.

******

“You are kidding, right,” said Rodney Pollard.

“No, I’m not kidding. I had no real choice. I just told him the truth. We are a family, or were,” said Claire Clausen.

“And, he reacted how again exactly, I mean tell me again?” he said.

She sighed. “Like I said, he didn’t actually react much at all. He just basically restated what he said earlier that he was moving out. He did make an issue of him being my cuckold, but that was pretty much it, and then he did, move out that is. He hardly raised his voice,” she said.

“Shit! He and I have been best friends since forever. I’m going to miss the guy. The big news is that he’s gonna miss me too. I know that as a great truth,” said Rodney.

“Yes, and he and I will miss each other if I can’t figure a way to get him to change his mind,” she said. “You know, knowing him as I do, I actually thought that I could convince him of the good sense of hearing me out and even agreeing with me, at least on some level. But I guess his feelings were just too raw at that particular moment.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they were. You know, I think it was more what he heard than what we did. Know what I mean,” he said.

“I think you’re right. He sees us as us as having made fun of him. I guess we were kind of laughing at him. But it was all just nonsense nothing was said that carried anything that was actually meaningful,” she said.

“Yeah, well trying to convince him of that now is going to be a seriously tough nut,” he said.

“For real,” she said. “But, that’s it isn’t it. We have to try and convince him. At some point we have to sit the guy down and pin him good and proper. We have to make him believe us.”

“Yes, but he is not going to be having you and me doing each other ever again and that at minimum,” he said. She nodded.

“I know, and there won’t be any way to hide it now that he knows,” she said.

“How long should we wait do you think before we come on to him?” he said.

“I don’t know. That’s going to be a very delicate issue in itself. Too long and he grows bitter. Too short a time and his anger will still be at a high point. So...” she said, shrugging.

“I don’t know either, maybe a month?” he said. She nodded, but it was a slow nod.

The two of them went silent. Each knew exactly what the other was thinking, but neither had the courage to voice it, but, then he did.

“And if he doesn’t cut us any slack? I mean ever?” he said.

She shook her head slowly.

“You know I am,” he said. “You absolutely know I am.”

******

The Crossroads is, by any definition, a dive. I’d been dropping in from time to time over the past couple of years after long days on the road. Sammy Gilchrist, a fellow driver, and I had tilted back quite a few yellow Pepsis there after work. My sometime bud Rod Pollard and I had also not been strangers to the place.

A dive it was, but it did have a couple of talented bartenders. Marie Semple was the thirty year-old bartender in chief at the place. She’d been holding down the fort at the Crossroads for six years. Oddly, or so it seemed to me, Marie was a college graduate. She’d majored in Art History so she’d said, but, ex post facto, she’d discovered to her eternal dismay that jobs in her field were all but non-existent. Still, her talent at mixing virtually any cocktail and her understanding of people as individuals were pretty much nonpareil. I loved Marie and Jackie DelaTorre too. Jackie was a twenty-two year-old neophyte barkeep that Marie was training though in point of fact she’d pretty much taught her everything she, Jackie, needed to know already.

At any rate these two women were of late my sole contact, on any kind of personal level, with the female gender since my breakup with the love of my life two weeks gone.

“How yuh doin’ tonight, cowboy?” said Marie coming up to me as I claimed my usual seat at the twenty foot bar.

“Same,” I said.

“So you haven’t heard from her at all?” said Marie.

“No, and why would I? She’s replaced me,” I said. Marie just nodded.

“It happens, guy. And the world still turns on its axis and the casinos in Vegas are still not charitable institutions,” she said.

“Yeah, well I guess you’re right on all counts,” I said, “though I’m actually not sure about the world on its axis thing.” She laughed.

“Yeah, well that’s what Einstein said or somebody,” she said.

“Oh well if Einstein said it then it must be true,” I said. She stopped rubbing the last nuances of moisture from the glass she was grinding.

“What?” I said.

“Jim, your wife, and she’s with your ex-best friend,” said Marie. I didn’t want to turn around, but I couldn’t help it. I did.

They saw me at the same time that I saw them. Her hand went to her mouth. I threw a ten on the bar and made to leave. He beat me to the door.

“Any chance that I could get you to sit down with us, Jim?” he said. I looked him up and down.

“No,” I said.

“Jim, please. Claire and I have been conspiring these past couple of weeks as to how to get you to sit with us and talk and maybe make things right. Please,” he said.

“No,” I said. I turned and walked out leaving him standing there. I had to wonder what he and my sooner or later to be ex would have said to me, I mean besides the usual meaningless platitudes. But, I guessed that the answer to that question would be never in the coming.

CHAPTER 2:

Dear old Rodney couldn’t get me to talk to him, or to her, so she took matters into her own hands. She had no idea where I now resided, the Randall Arms, for sure. And, I’d made sure that the few who did know would not be blabbing it to anyone. But, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t get hold of me. And get hold of me she did, at my place of work. She was waiting for me when I got back from a run.

I saw her leaning against the loading dock when I came out of the office where I’d turned in my signed off on manifests.

Sammy came up from behind me and nudged me. “You better talk to her, Jim. She’ll just keep on coming back if you don’t,” he said. I looked at him and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said.

I walked over to her. “The Denny’s on the corner,” I said, coming up to her. She nodded, and began the short walk over there. I followed her, but not too closely. Well I was making a statement: we were not together.

She’d taken a booth at the back of the place. The waitress was there with menus in short order.

“Just coffee,” I said. “We won’t be long.” Claire nodded her agreement as to the order if not the proposed length of the meeting.

“How have you been, Jim?” she said.

“Bad,” I said. “How do you think I’ve been, Claire? I mean betrayed by you and my best friend. Not much to feel good about.”

“No, I guess not,” she said. “Jim, I’ve come to ask you to come home. I need you to be my husband and to love me like you always have and me you.”

“But you intend to keep on fucking my used to be best friend, right?” I said.

“It’s not like that,” she said, “and he’s still your best friend.”

“Oh, I must have missed something then. What is it like then?” I said.

“It’s just something I do with him that makes me feel like, well, like he is a member of our family. It isn’t even really the sex. It’s more like an expression of our closeness, the closeness of all three of us,” she said.

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? No, you couldn’t. I think you love him. And, I think you maybe like me a little, but not love me, not like him,” I said. “So, unless you’ve got something else to say I really think we should just call it a day. You go your way with him, and I go my way home—alone.”

“You’re wrong Jimmy. I do love you,” she said.

“More than him?” I said.

“I guess the same as him, or him the same as you; take your choice,” she said. “That’s why I can’t give him up any more than I can give you up.”

“Well, let’s just say that you and I are definitely living in different universes. My wife must, that’s must, be a one man woman.

“Claire no man has ever loved a woman as I have loved, and continue to love, you. Not Rodney, not Don Juan, no man: I will never love again. Date? Probably not that either, but as for that I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. I will miss what we had, what I thought that we had. But it is what it is. I just cannot accept your idea of a marriage. So mister ex-best friend will have a clear field now: he’ll be able to fuck you to his heart’s content. So be happy.

“Don’t come around anymore, Claire, it’s too hard on me,” I said. I stood, threw a five down on the table top, and walked out. She didn’t try to stop me.

******

I got the papers two weeks later. No letter, no phone call, no nothing: just the papers announcing the fact that she was divorcing me. It was a sad time for me, and, I thought, maybe for her too. Well, one could hope. Oh and she wasn’t asking for anything except the house; well, she did love our old digs always had. She should’ve, she was the one who chose where we were going to live.

I was once again occupying my favored seat at the Crossroads thinking back over things. One month since I’d walked out, one month since I’d had my last piece of ass, and one month since I’d begun moping about. Life sucked if one were me. I wondered what the two of them were doing at that moment. I looked at my watch: it was Friday night, 8:00 PM. They were probably getting naked right about now I thought. Was I jealous of my ex-bud? Hell yes I was, oh yeah!

I took stock: I was an emotional ruin, and a bitter and forlorn excuse of whatever it was that I had been. I just hoped against hope that the two of them felt some guilt for what they’d done to me. The bad news of course was that I doubted that they did.

“Another one of those?” said Jackie, nodding toward my almost empty glass.

“Yeah, and make it my last,” I said. “I gotta get out of here before I’m too weak in the knees to do so under my own power.”

“You got it, sport,” she said. She disappeared for a few minutes and returned with my JD and the check. I handed her my card and took a sip of the newly arrived refill.

Five minutes later I was up and heading out into the lonely night, lonely being the operative term.

I should’ve pulled up stakes sooner. I knew that that was a true thing because the officer that stopped me, cuffed me, and transported me to jail assured me that such was so. Did I say that life sucked if one were me? Well, I should have if I didn’t.

The desk sergeant at my temporary home asked me for my phone number. I wasn’t thinking too clearly I guess, well, several JD’s will have that effect: I gave him my old land line number by mistake. He wrote it down; and I forgot about it.

I did get my one direct call, I made it to my bud, Sammy Gilchrist. He promised to come get me when they let me out; that would be in 72 hours according to the judge who arraigned me. I’d need a ride, as I was informed, because my car was in the impound.

All said and done, I guess the desk sergeant felt sorry for me. It must have been the sad look on my face and the incipient tears that accompanied that look. He called my house, the place where I used to live.

******

“Hey Clausen, you have a visitor,” said the screw.

“Huh?” I said. It had to be Sammy; he’s the only one who knew I’d been arrested, but I had told him that I would call when they let me go. At any rate the screw led me down the corridor to the public room.

I’d gotten halfway across the concourse of the largish meeting room, where dummies like me got to converse with family and friends, before I saw who it was. I know my face went bright crimson with humiliation when I recognized him. I walked slowly toward him. I really didn’t want to talk to him, but then again I did have something to say to him regardless.

“Whaddya here for Rodney? She’s divorcing me, so she can fuck you without the inconvenience of having to worry about me being around. You have a clear field. I sure as hell don’t need to see either one of you ever again,” I said. “I have nothing for you and you have nothing to say that I care at all about.”

“Jim, the cops called your house. I’m here to offer you bail if you’ll let me,” he said. “A DUI is gonna cost you a ton.”

“Hell no! I don’t want any bail from you!” I said. “You steal my wife and come here offering me some of your dirty money! Get real and get out!” I turned to go, having momentarily forgotten what I wanted to say to him.

“Please, Jim, talk to me for a minute,” he said. I turned back toward him.

“What!” I said.

“Jim, a couple of things: one, I didn’t steal your wife. I did cheat with her on you. Guilty,” he said. “And two, yes, she’s divorcing you, and I will be marrying her because you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Man, you have brass balls telling me that,” I said. “I sincerely hate you, Mister Pollard. I mean with white hot hatred, and her too. Get the fuck away from me. Get the fuck away!”

“Jim, please, you and I have been best friends for a long time. And, as strange as it might sound to you, I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

“Well, that’s just too damn bad because you have anyway. When I saw it was you came to see me just now, I thought to turn around and just walk away. But I did want to tell you something face to face,” I said.

“Oh?” he said.

“Yes, and this is for the both of you. I wish you were dead, the both of you! Okay?”

“Jim, I know you don’t mean that. And, you’ll undoubtedly find yourself a woman who will be your true love. Yes, Claire’s lost to you because of your puritanical stance on things. But it doesn’t have to be the end of the world for you, and it does not have to end our relationship, yours and mine,” he said.

“I cannot believe that you think, that you actually think, that there could possibly be anything left for you and me after what you’ve done to me all of these last three years. Claire told me that she’s been doing you ever since we got back from our honeymoon. You have no idea how bad that hurt me. You may in your selfish mindset think that what you did was okay. It wasn’t! So fuck off! I don’t want to ever see you again, Rodney Pollard, not ever or her either. Just get lost and stay lost.” With that I did turn and walk away.

It was going to be a while before I saw either of the two cheaters again, and then it was going to be one weird situation to say the least.

******

He plopped down at the dinette table: the one that used to belong to his best friend, still did in a legal sense, he supposed. She was still staying at the house in the burbs instead of at his condo. She’d said she had too much invested in the place for her to just up and suddenly move. The truth was that she felt funny about the breakup with her husband, and moving out of the house that had been theirs was traumatic, too final. She had to work up to it, the move.

He’d honored her wishes and was spending almost all of his nights with her in spite of the long drive from his office and condo downtown; it was his way of supporting her. She appreciated his forbearance. They’d be getting “their” own new place after the wedding; and, she’d been thinking about keeping this place as well regardless.

“What did he say?” said Claire.

“About what we figured he’d say. He turned down any help from me. He told me never to come around him again. But I have a question for you,” said Rodney.

“Huh?” she said.

“Did you have to tell him that we’d been doing it together since the two of you were first married?” he said.

“Yes, I felt that I did. He’d discovered us, and sooner or later he would have figured it out or asked; and hiding it, given what he now knew, lying or keeping secrets would not have been the best of all possible paths to forgiveness,” she said. He nodded.

“I guess you’re right. But him knowing that sure makes it a tough sell for us to get back on any kind of an even keel with him,” he said.

“Did you tell him about our plans?” she said.

“Yes, like you, I figured keeping him in the dark till the last minute would not have been the best idea. So I told him. I’m sure he kind of figured it anyway, I mean that we’d be getting married,” he said. She nodded.

“Jesus, I really didn’t want for this to go down this way. We, you and I, will always have a cloud over our heads now. But, I guess it was inevitable when one gets right down to it, I mean him discovering us. I guess we’d just been kidding ourselves that it would never happen, or, that happening, he could be made to see the logic in our intentions,” she said.

“Yes, but it was what he overheard not so much what we did that made the big difference, at least that’s what I think,” he said.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. But it was all just nonsense. Neither of us really had any bad intentions or thoughts in anything that we said that day or on any other of a hundred days,” she said.

“All true, and none of that makes any difference because there is no way we are ever going to be able to sell him on the truth of it,” he said. “If by some miracle we can get him to soften his stance with us, it’ll have to be some other way.”

“Still, we have to make another effort, maybe more than one down the line to get him to a place where we can all get along again. I have to believe that that is possible,” she said.

“Yeah, well anything’s possible; but some things are just less possible than we might like,” he said.

He sighed and gave her a look.

“What?” she said.

“I was just thinking...” he started.

“You thinking what I think you’re thinking?” she said. He shrugged.

“Well, what the hell. We might as well. I already feel guilty; a little more guilty won’t make a damned bit of difference,” she said.

He came to her and let his hand rest lightly on her arm. She leaned into him and their bodies melded into one and he kissed her and it was at once tinged with love and lust and the promise of their futures.

“Let’s take this down the hall,” she said.

“Good idea,” he said. He took her by the hand and guided her to the guest room. She stopped him just as they entered the room.

“No,” she said.

“Huh?” he said, not understanding.

“Not in here. We’ll use the master bedroom this time. It’s ours now, yours and mine,” she said. He relaxed.

“Okay,” he said.

She went to the king sized bed and kicked out of her shoes. He watched as they landed on the floor a couple of feet from the headboard.

She began unbuttoning her blouse. She slipped out of it too. She stopped. “You gonna stay dressed the whole time?” she said.

“Uh, no,” he said. He kicked off his shoes and made to undress too.

Naked, the two of them came together, standing beside the bed. They kissed. His hands explored the back of her and her buttocks; his finger invaded the cleft between the two globes of her.

His finger penetrated her anus and she grimaced at his assault.

“You okay?” He said.

“Yes, just be gentle back there,” she said. She pulled him down onto the coverlet. They rolled together for some time exploring, kissing, licking and sucking on this or that part of each the other.

Finally, he forced her onto her back and insinuated a knee between her thighs. Surrendering, she spread wide for her assailant and waited for what must inevitably come.

He loomed above her his cock brittle hard. He lowered himself slowly to her pussy and pushed at her still somewhat dry nether lips. She grunted her femaleness.

He pumped into her slowly. He felt her shiver; it was his signal to go for it, and he did. He drove into her like a wild man taking his she. Her eyes glistened with passion with maybe a few tears for her about to be ex-husband mixed in. But, in spite of the tears, there was no guilt, or, at least not very much guilt.

He stiffened unburdening himself of a sea of cum. The moment was frozen in time. She would remember it in future days: the doing of each other in Jimmy’s bed, and her bed. Yes, it was a watershed moment for her: the moment she fully realized that she was now someone else’s woman.

The next days would be days of emotional transition for her and for him.

The few weeks that followed turned out to be calm ones. They’d learned that Jimmy had spent a ragged weekend in jail and had finally been rescued by his old bud Sammy Gilchrist. Rodney wanted to talk to the man, Sammy. He would at some point, but for the moment things would be allowed to simmer.

******

She was actually nervous. She’d made the call some half an hour earlier. He’d be with her in but a few more minutes at most of that she was sure.

She heard the car pulling up into the driveway. Her fingers were tapping an irregular staccato on the counter top.

“Hi,” he said, announcing his presence as he strode across the largish kitchen to the serving bar.

“Hi,” she said. Her tone was somber.

“Huh? What’s going on Claire?” he said, reacting to her tone.

“We’re pregnant, and yes it’s yours,” she said. The stunned look on his face could only have been described as comical by any casual observer. Then he smiled.

“You’re sure?” he said, “I mean that it’s ours, yours and mine?”

“Yes, he pulled out as usual the last time we did it. We hadn’t made the decision to have children yet, and with you not using the condom that time that he caught us in the act and since then. Well, like I say there is no doubt,” she said. He nodded.

“Well then it’s definitely time for a celebratory night out,” he said. “This might be the happiest day of my life. It is for damn sure one of them!”

“Well, I’m glad you’re so happy,” she said. “At any rate, we’ve got ourselves some seven months to go.”

He went to her and kissed her long and lovingly. It occurred to him that his ex-best friend was not going to be thrilled with the news when he heard it. Well, it had been his choice, and it was a damn shame, he thought.

******

It was almost a year now since the end of my marriage to Claire Woodrew. I was at my usual station tilting one back just as my bud Sammy took the stool beside me. “How yuh doin’ sport?” he said.

I shrugged. “Eight or ten more of these and I should be cool,” I said.

“You’re drinking too much,” said Sammy. “And yeah, I know I’m not one to talk, but you make me look like a junior high school kid.”

“Yeah, well I’m depressed,” I said in defense of myself.

“You know I’ve been dating Colleen Watson, that nurse I introduced you to,” he said.

“Yeah, Colleen, right,” I said. “You guys getting serious?”

“Jury’s still out, but maybe. She knows your story and she knows your ex-bud, Rodney. Anyway, he was in the hospital last week, she recognized him.”

“Oh, uh, so what?” I said.

“He was there with your ex. They have a kid,” said Sammy. I know my face fell. I actually started to cry; I could feel it.

“Sorry guy, but I figured you’d wanna know,” said Sammy.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. I threw a ten down on the bar and rose to go. I had to get out of there before I actually embarrassed myself publicly.

I had my car. But, I just started to walk home: it was a four mile trek, and I didn’t give a shit. This was the livin’ end!

******

I woke up to the pounding on my apartment door. It was Sammy and Henry Goodman, my other bud from Allied. Henry’d been the number three guy in HR for the past couple of years. He was a bit older than me and Sammy but in our group at the Crossroads.

“What the...” I started.

“You left your car at the Crossroads. Wanna go get it?” said Sammy.

“Huh? Oh yes, okay, yeah I guess,” I said. “But did you have to wake me up so early?” I was whining but he knew the score so he didn’t react.

“Yeah, well like I said last night; you drink too much,” he said. Henry was nodding but not offering anything.

“Well, come in and have a cup while I get some clothes on. You know where the coffee maker is,” I said.

The ride back to the Crossroads was mostly quiet. I say mostly. As Henry, whose car we’d used, pulled up next to mine, Sammy made a comment.

“Bud, you’ve gotta let her go. She’s gone; it’s time to get on with things, new things, new women. Okay?” he said.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “It’s just hard. Here I am almost twenty-eight years-old and starting over. It’s hard, like I say.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Sammy.

“Me too,” said Henry. “My wife dumped me for a bigger dick five years ago. I’m mostly over it now. At least we didn’t have any kids; that would not have been good.”

“Yeah, well same here,” I said. “And yes, you’re right, that would not have been good. I guess we should count our blessings.”

“There you go,” said Sammy, agreeing with us. “Like I said, time to be getting on with things and dumping all of the baggage.” I nodded.

Driving back to my place, I was thinking of all of the undoubted happiness around the Pollard residence. I sighed. Maybe there was a woman out there that I could maybe trust to be my woman, and maybe even have a kid with. I wasn’t too old, not yet. I began to feel a little good, but the good was definitely mixed with the ever present melancholy.

******

“You think he knows we’ve got a little girl?” she said. He shrugged.

“I don’t know. I kinda hope not. It’d just be something else for him to focus on,” said Rodney. She nodded.

“Yes, that’s true. Still, he’s bound to find out sooner or later. I just hope he’s moved on when that happens,” she said.

“Yes, that would be best. I do hope he’s done that, moved on I mean. I mean it has been a year now,” he said.

“Do you think...?”

“No,” he said. “He’s made it plain that he doesn’t want us around. We did our best, given the circumstances, to try and make things right by him. Going to see him or trying again would not be useful.” She sighed. “Claire, if he comes to us, we will do what we reasonably can, we will, but it has to be him coming to us.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. They turned toward the hallway.

“The baby’s awake,” said Claire. She was smiling.

“Feeding time or potty time?” he said.

“Feeding time, silly. She doesn’t cry like that for potty time,” said momma. Her husband smiled and raised his arms in surrender.

“Me or you?” he said.

“Why you darling. I think she called your name,” said Claire. He smirked.

“Okay, sounds like an offer I can’t refuse,” he said.

He headed down the hall to take care of his daughter’s clamor. He lived for moments like this. Rodney Pollard was a lucky man, always had been. But this lucky? Nobody deserved to be this lucky, as lucky as he was. The prettiest girl in the state for a wife, the prettiest baby in the whole world, money, position: no, nobody had a right to be this lucky, he thought.

As he picked up his daughter he thought about his once upon a time best friend. For a brief moment the guilt that had faded from his conscious mind since the last meeting with his onetime bud, returned. The baby’s murmuring in her daddy’s arms brought him back on center. He retrieved the bottle from the warmer near her bed. He settled in for a feeding time with the other love of his life, Rebecca Pollard age going-on-one. No, no one had the right to be this lucky.