Sitting in front of the TV, watching the end of an early season college football game while sipping on my third beer, the sound of the garage door opening suddenly grabbed my attention. It meant my pretty wife Emily was returning from dinner with her best friend Chloe, who had called earlier practically begging my wife to meet her. I sensed something was up and was now eager to hear the news.
The sound of Emily's shoes on the hardwood floor signaled her approach, and soon she appeared with a look on her face that made it clear she had been drinking. There was a pause as we looked at each other before I finally spoke.
"How was dinner?" I asked.
"Let me get a drink first," she declared and spun around.
Emily is normally not a heavy drinker, so taking another in her current state portended the significance of the meeting. It took a few minutes for her to return, but when she did, I prodded once more.
"Well?" I asked.
"Chloe is upset about something," she replied, and it seemed like she wanted to act like the little girl with a secret.
"What's wrong?" I responded, playing along.
"I told her I wouldn't tell anyone," she stated.
"Okay, well that's fine," I said and turned my attention back to the TV.
Emily is not the gossipy type, and although I sensed she was eager to tell me about her friend's situation, I knew it was best not to push. Several minutes went by as we watched the program before she spoke.
"David wants to...I mean he's pushing really...for them to uhhh... try swinging," she stammered.
"Swinging? What do you mean?" I asked, as my mind instantly filled with a vision of people square dancing. It took a second or two for the reality to hit, and when it did, I declared in a shocked voice, "What the hell? You are joking!"
Since Emily and Chloe were very close, I knew her husband from frequent social interactions. Other than occasionally being a bit loud and boisterous, he always struck me as a normal, conservative college educated guy. Certainly, I had never seen any signs of sexual deviance, and in fact, he always seemed to be very respectful, almost doting, towards his wife.
"I'm not joking," Emily said, staring at me with a judgmental expression as if I was equally guilty simply by being male.
"Well, start from the beginning and tell me the whole story," I said while pulling myself up on the sofa.
For the next few minutes, my wife described meeting her friend for dinner, drinking lots of wine, and hearing it all. She explained that David had been dropping hints for some time that Chloe would just laugh off, but recently he had become more pointed, and last night in bed had bluntly told her it was something he wanted to try. He went on to declare that if she loved him, she would support the decision. Of course, that had led to an argument, then tears, followed by more arguing that had left her a wreck. She tried to keep it as just a husband-and-wife thing, but it ate on her all day and that made her call my wife.
"I'm not sure bullying would have been the approach I would have used," I said when my wife finished, which brought a strange look.
"How can a man...a husband...let his wife...do it...be with someone else?" she asked.
"I don't know honey. It's not something I've thought about. I guess if you've been together a long time and things are getting dull, but they've only been married three years," I answered.
"Yes..." she replied slowly while analyzing my words.
Emily was Chloe's Matron of Honor at her wedding, which occurred eight months after ours, and likewise, Chloe had been my wife's Maid of Honor. The two had been sorority sisters in the same pledge class and had hit it off instantly. Since they had ended up in the same city after graduation, they had been able to maintain their friendship, and I saw Chloe at least every other week. It wasn't something I minded, as, like my wife, she is very attractive and quite fun. Both Emily and Chloe are slender and tallish, with the main differences between them being hair color and breast size. My wife is raven-haired while her friend is a blonde, and Chloe is a full C-cup while Emily is a B. Since neither woman had yet become pregnant, they still had firm bodies.
"Is she going to?" I asked, finally acknowledging the huge elephant in the room.
"Of course not, and I told her that David was wrong and being a total ass," she replied, flashing some anger.
"You know...uh...it might mean that he's having an affair or something," I offered slowly, knowing it was dangerous ground.
"I know..." she said, then after a look at her feet added, "I think it's a possibility, but I didn't say anything to Chloe."
"What's she going to do? I asked.
"Tell him NO WAY!" she quickly responded.
"Well, you're likely going to get more calls, so sweetie you need to do what you can to help Chloe. This is serious stuff and she's going to need you," I said.
I knew she was going to do what she needed for her friend whether I acknowledged it or not, but I thought I could get some good guy points by making the offer, and the look in her eyes after I finished let me know I had made the right decision. Indeed, it was just after lunch the next day when Emily received the call from Chloe, and an hour later she was knocking on our front door. Knowing I would be in the way, I kissed her on the cheek and then left so they could talk in private. I ran errands for a few hours and then drove home, but when I spotted Chloe's car still in the driveway, I kept going and ended up at a sports bar. There, I sent a text to my wife asking her to let me know when her friend left, and it wasn't until almost seven that I got the all-clear. Arriving home, the two empty Chardonnay bottles on the counter and my wife's red eyes informed me of her condition.
"Well...tell me about it," I said after grabbing a beer from the fridge and moving to the living room, with Emily right behind.
"He's being a fucking prick!" my wife announced, using language that was exceedingly rare for her.
"Okay...like what? What happened?" I asked, hoping for a better description.
"She told him no and he started laying this huge guilt trip on her telling her she didn't support him and she was too goody-goody," she replied, slurring her words slightly.
"Why doesn't she just ignore him? I'm pretty sure he loves her...a lot...so tell her to just laugh it off," I suggested.
"She tries but he is being forceful and you know she can't stand confrontation. Everything must be resolved with her...it's how she's made up," she answered.
"What's she going to do?" I asked.
"Keep talking to him," she replied, and although it sounded inadequate, I couldn't think of a better approach.
