***
I am writing this as a submission for the
Winter Holidays Story Contest
for 2023.
I wrote it on a whim and didn't have a chance to run it by my editing crew. As always, all errors are my fault.
This is a work of creative fiction.
None of characters are under the age of eighteen and there are no depictions of sex in this story.
Please do not complain to me about the logical fallacies in what the characters are discussing in the story or the flaws in the description of evolutionary reproduction of Homo sapiens. These are written intentionally into the story, which is meant for entertainment purposes only.
The views of the characters expressed in this story are not the views of the author.
You may not copy this work off of this web site.
***
Greg was so pissed he lost his Christmas spirit.
The problem was that he is a subject matter expert in this field. He knew the answer to this question cold, but he did not want to get dragged into this discussion. He just wanted to lay low until dessert was served just before the party broke up.
The dinner dishes had been cleared away from the big oval table a few minutes before. They were in the private room at the back of an upscale restaurant. The wait staff had left a coffee service on a side board and had given the room to the guests until they called for the dessert course.
Greg panicked when the conversation suddenly lurched in this direction. It had been ruthlessly steered in that direction due to relentless axe grinding and a touch of pot stirring.
Greg's wife Quiara quickly ground her heel into the top of his foot. Fighting back a grimace, Greg injected as much meekness into his voice as he could and said, "Ah, please no. I catch enough crap for being the resident science nerd. The last thing anyone wants is for a biologist to rattle on regarding a topic which is about ethics more than biology."
Everyone at the table were Doctors of Philosophy. Greg was the only Ph.D. with a hard-science background. He was a Biologist who specialized in reproduction. His most recent papers all had to do with reproduction in Homo sapiens.
The other twenty-three attendees were in the Language Department. All of them were experts in the literature, philology, and linguistics of various languages alive and dead. This meal was the Christmas party for the language department, masquerading as a "solstice celebration."
Greg thought that it had been a clever manipulation to imply that calling on him to lecture in this scenario would bore people and make him feel awkward. He had high hopes as he flicked his eyes to his wife, who flashed her eyes in approval at his cleverness.
Sadly, his gambit didn't work. Radu, in his role as resident axe-grinder, was undeterred. "Oh. Come on Greg. I think everyone here is genuinely interested in hearing the answer," said Radu. "If you want to know the answer to this, raise your hands."
About three fourths of the table raised their hands immediately. After seeing how the vote was hopeless, the remaining quarter slowly raised their hands so they didn't look suspiciously out-of-line with conventional wisdom. Greg marveled at the way that perceived social pressure got people to compromise their values almost immediately and on a subconscious level.
Greg silently noted the three people who least wanted the discussion to go in this direction were Kailey, Elodie, and Quiara. Greg thought of them as the "three amigos". Kailey was the wife of Radu, the instigator. Elodie was wife of the department head, Emile. Quiara was Greg's wife and the reason why he was at the dinner at all. The fact that these three were against it wasn't surprising.
In October, Elodie and Kailey travelled to a conference in Vancouver to present a paper together. The day they returned, Elodie and Kailey showed up to Greg's house unexpectedly. Quiana pushed him out to his backyard shed and the women spent almost the entire day holed up in the master bedroom.
It was impossible to miss the fact that Elodie spent that entire day crying hysterically in an advanced state of emotional breakdown while Kailey and Quiara desperately tried to put her back together.
Greg was completely excluded from that discussion, but he did overhear Quiara advise Elodie to "come clean" and later he heard Kailey suggest, "what happens in Vancouver stays in Vancouver." It wasn't difficult to infer what was going on.
At the time, Greg wrestled with whether he should tell Elodie's husband, Emile. If it had been a friend, Greg would have spilled the beans immediately. The problem in this case was that Greg and Emile hated each other.
Emile had never been friendly to Greg, and had always treated him as if he were a servant. The dislike had turned into active enmity during the Faculty Ball the previous spring. Quiana sent Greg to the bar to get fresh drinks. When he retuned to the table, Quiara wasn't there. He found her out on the dance floor with Emile. Emile's hands were all over Quiara-- breasts, back, and ass. Quiara looked embarassed, but did not protest. Greg waited until the couple circulated on the dance floor next to the Chancellor. That's when then stepped in and deliberately made a scene with the Chancellor as his audience. This forced Emile to publicly apologize to him and withdraw from the dance floor in shame.
Greg expected Quiara to be furious over what he'd done. Instead, she was embarrassed and meek, making Greg wonder if she was complicit. On the way home that evening, Quiara told him that she was quietly trying to get Emile to behave, but he wouldn't. Quiara said she was afraid of making a scene and was secretly delighted Greg intervened. For weeks afterwards, Quiara called Greg, "my hero" whenever she greeted him.
Ever since that incident, Emile refused to acknowledge Greg's presence and had not said one word to him. When Greg found out Emie's wife was had cheated on him, Greg decided not to tell him. Judging by her distress, Elodie was certainly remorseful for her actions. He let it slide.
At the table, after the vote for Greg to answer the question unexpectedly became unanimous, Greg resigned himself to his fate. "Ok, then Radu, state the question concisely and I will try to answer it."
"Is it equivalent offense when a husband cheats on his wife as when a wife cheats on a husband?" Radu asked with a smirk.
Greg smiled. "You posed that as a yes/no question. Letting the biological chips fall where they may, there is a clear answer, but no one at the table is going to like the answer. We'll have to get into a technical discussion of why that answer is clear and then everyone is going to lose their shit and disagree. It isn't worth it."
Quiara frowned when Greg used profanity, but no one in the group seemed fazed by it. Quiara had a flash of inspiration and suddenly spoke up. "Alright, new rule: if this starts descend into an argument, then we change topics. Does anyone disagree?"
Quiara was well-respected in her department and had a keen mind. There was silence at the table as everyone consented or her proposal. Quiara made eye contact with Kailey. Greg saw Kailey give Quiara a slight nod.
Quiara turned to Greg, so he began. "Biologically, a man cheating on a woman is not an equivalent offense to a woman cheating on a man. They are different acts with different causes, executions, impacts, and outcomes."
This answer stunned the table.
Gerhart, the bearded professor from Bremen quickly asked, "If they aren't the same, which is worse?" In his thick accent, the W was pronounced as a V.
You could hear a pin drop at the table. Everyone wanted to know the answer. Even Greg's wife Quiara was looking at Greg expectantly.
"Biologically, it is much worse when a female cheats on a male than the other way around," Greg said.
Kailey taking her cue, groaned out loud. "Ah, come on, that just male patriarch hyperbole bullshit! Women have been oppressed by men for all of human history and are much more vulnerable when their mates choose to abandon them."
The table descended into pandemonium and chaos and Greg leaned back and breathed a sign of relief. Greg made eye contact with Quiara, who smiled back and then made eye contact with Kailey. Kailey actually had to do a two-finger whistle to get the arguments and discussion to die down.
"Everyone agreed that if an argument erupted, that we'd agree to disagree," said Kailey. "Time for a new topic. I would really like to hear what Churan has to say about that conference she just got back from in Beijing."
In the sudden silence, everyone looked around the table and Churan wasn't there. Churan's husband Chen said, "Sorry, she just left to go to the ladies room. She'll be back in a few minutes."
In the silence, Elodie's lightly accented soprano voice suddenly piped up. "Why is it worse? I would like to know."
There was something both compelling and emotionally vulnerable with her request for the information. She sounded as if she desperately needed to know the answer. This caught everyone's attention. Greg silently swore in his own head. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. Quiara was instantly grinding my foot like she was heal-toeing a seventies-era Formula One race car.
"Look, this discussion is controversial and it is about to go off the rails," pronounced Greg. "Please don't make me ruin the Christmas party."
"Solstice party!" called out Dorotea, predictably. When Dorotea was born in Maryland, her parents named her Dorthy. She'd met and married her husband Pietro while studying Italian literature in Turin. She started calling herself Dorotea after she married him and took his last name. It was good for her career as a scholar of Italian literature.
Greg took silence to be consent, and started to breathe a sigh of relief that his run in the mine field was over. Unfortunately, resident axe-grinder Radu spoke up. "Aren't you an expert in this field, Greg? This is what you've done your last few research papers on, isn't it?"
"Yes Radu, you are correct," replied Greg. "This type of question is all over my CV. However, my expertise won't make it any less controversial."
"I want to hear your considered opinion, Greg." said Radu, with a flash of victory in his expression. The man was an epic pot stirrer.