Dustin "Dusty" Aldrich came home from work just after four on a cold January afternoon. He hung up his reflective safety coat and stepped into the kitchen, where Laurel, his wife of twenty years, was setting the table for four. She gave him a quick smile and went about her business.
"Did I forget a dinner date?" he asked.
"No," she replied without making eye contact. "Sit down. I'll tell you after we talk about a few things."
"Hey, look," he offered, pulling out a chair. "I'm sorry about last night. I should have just shut Tom down from the start. It just seemed like maybe you were—"
"Interested?" she asked, sitting beside him. "How many times do I have to say no? I like Chad and Angela. They're good folks, and I like going to their house, but the rest of that crowd is sneaky. I can't stand Tom or Erik, and I don't like their wives. They have no respect for their own partners."
"Come on," he argued. "So what if they play a few risqué games after hours? They play truth or dare with sex toys or spin the bottle for a beejay. It's all done in a big group with everyone watching and laughing along."
"And you want me to do that? Suck off Tom with everyone watching?"
"They don't even finish. Candice told us about that. It's out in the open and only for fun."
"In the open? I went into the guestroom to get our coats and found Celina kissing Erik on the bed."
"Just kissing, though, right?"
"What do you mean, just kissing? You said it was only for fun! They were in a bedroom, Dusty. No one was watching or laughing along. They snuck off together. That's called cheating." She let out a sigh. "I'm thirty-nine," she whined. "I didn't swap sex partners when I was in college. Now I have a kid in college." Bowing her head, she asked, "Are you looking for an excuse to be with other women because I'm getting old?"
"Old?" he asked incredulously. "Look, I got a little carried away, but I was just looking for fun and games. I really thought you'd get a kick out of it, too. Laurel, you'd have been the prettiest girl there. You're as gorgeous as the day I met you."
Dustin was being sincere on that count. Laurel was downright cute. She could pass for a girl ten years her junior. Many a younger head turned her way whenever she stepped onto an elliptical trainer at the health club. Her long black hair framed blowtorch-blue eyes and full red lips. She was a thin but healthy five-foot-six, with firm, perky breasts ample enough to adorn her frame, but not so large as to steal the show.
"Thanks," she acknowledged, squeezing his hand. "But I think we need to make some new couple friends...ones I can be comfortable around."
"I suppose that's why the table's set for four."
"Can't put anything past you," she jested, kissing his cheek. "You must remember Cindy, my friend from work. You saw her a few weeks ago at the Christmas party."
"I remember. You two could be sisters. Please tell me it's not her coming over."
"That's the other thing I need to talk to you about. She and her husband—"
"Oh, no! She married that Evan guy. She can come, but not him. I stole you from him."
"You never even met him," she argued. "I dated him in college and we broke up when I met you. He doesn't hold a grudge. He got Cindy, for cryin' out loud."
"A girl who looks like you! He missed you so much he—"
"Stop," interrupted Laurel. "They're going to be our houseguests for a week or so."
"What? I just said I don't want him over for dinner. Now you want me to live with him?"
Laurel stood up and stepped behind him. "Dusty," she pleaded, rubbing his shoulders. "The house beside theirs caught fire and their place got heat and water damage. They need a place to stay while it gets fixed."
"So let 'em stay at a hotel. They can get romantic with each other and he doesn't need to be in the same house as my wife."
"You were trying to pass me around at a party...for fun, as you put it."
"And you caught two people kissing in the bedroom. What if he tries that with you?"
She kissed his ear. "Don't be a baby," she tendered. "With Samantha at college, we have a queen size bed doing nothing." She grabbed his hand and squeezed with her long fingers. "Cindy's my friend," she insisted. "You'd do yourself well to make some new friends, too."
"Alright," he huffed. "But Evan better not make goo-goo eyes at you."
"And you better not make 'em at Cindy, ya' big lug. Now go start the grill. They're on the way over now."
Their houseguests arrived within the hour. Evan was tall and beefy, with sandy blond hair and thick stubble on his broad jaw. Dustin took a few minutes to acclimate to the idea that Laurel wouldn't find the fire of her wiles rekindling—the guy was a hunk. But he soon dropped his apprehensive pretense as they laughed, drank and played cards late into the night. The men talked about how much alike their wives looked. Evan joked that he had searched high and low for another Laurel after she left him—a comment Dustin fought to ignore.
****
The late evening took a toll on Dustin. He worked as a field engineer, and went to work groggy the next morning. Walking through a construction site, he stumbled over some debris and fell forward. Trying to stay upright, he grasped an unsecured scaffold frame and lost his balance as it shifted. A searing pain shot through his neck and left shoulder as he fell to his buttocks.
Laurel met him at the hospital just as the doctor was detailing his X-rays. "I was expecting acromio-clavicular separation," she explained. "But apparently it's just a surpraspinatious—"
"English, doc," urged Laurel.
"Nothing's broken. He pulled a muscle...a big one, maybe inflamed a tendon. It'll hurt like heck for a day, maybe two, but it'll heal fast."
"Shouldn't he have something for pain?"
"As long as you can drive him home, I'll give him a shot of muscle relaxer with an anti-inflammatory agent. He'll be sleepy and groggy all night, but by tomorrow, Ibuprofen and moist heat should be enough."
That night, Laurel moved Dustin's recliner just to the left of the sofa in hopes he could join the after-dinner conversation. She propped him up and threw an afghan over him, then ordered pizza. Dustin ate a slice, but lost his appetite after that.
Cindy sat at the left end of the couch with Evan to her right. Laurel strutted in with a bottle of wine and three glasses.
"Want me to move so you can sit near Dusty?" asked Cindy.
"Don't bother," replied Laurel. "He's in la la land." She set the glasses on the coffee table. "Sorry big guy," she offered. "No drinks for you." After pouring three glasses, she plopped down on the far right of the sofa.
"The last thing I need is wine," grumbled Dustin through the drowsy side effects. Minutes later, he nodded off to sleep to the sound of chat and laughter from Laurel and their guests.
