Cindy aroused me, that first day, when Nancy brought her new friend by the house. There is something seductive in that woman's eyes, a sultriness that tempted me the moment I saw her. I remember, I was sitting at my desk, pouring over some equations when my wife knocked on the study door and asked me if I knew where the spade was. I didn't even know we had one, and mumbled incoherently, lost in quadratic remainders.
"Ted," Nancy said, a note of complaint in her voice, "was that a 'yes' or a 'no'?" I looked up from my page of symbols and saw the dark woman standing just beyond my fair wife. As quickly, I forgot Nancy's question.
"No," I said, shaking my distraction.
"Well," said Nancy, "I'm home. We'll be in the garden."
She had probably mentioned Cindy before, but I didn't pay much attention to names of people I hadn't met, so I had no idea who she was. I tried to re-immerse myself in the trap-door formula, but found my thoughts lingering on Cindy, a brief impression which had fixed itself firmly in my mind's eye. She had been standing in the shadows, and there is nothing really exceptional about her beauty, except that she struck me as simply lovely. I closed my book and headed into the kitchen to fix a drink, and then, noticing the sunshine, decided to take a look in the garden.
The two women knelt in the dirt, laughing, digging a shallow trough in the soil.
"Flowers?" I asked.
"I gave Nancy some strawberry plants," said Cindy. "Mine are overtaking the space I have, and when she mentioned how much she loves strawberries, well, we went out and dug some up."
"Mmm," I said, admiringly, "I love them, too. How long before I can step out back and pluck a fresh berry?"
"Not until next year," said Nancy, placing the first plant into the hole. "I want to put some raspberry bushes over against that," she said to Cindy, pointing toward the cedar fence.
"I love your garden," said Cindy, looking up to smile at me. My heart fluttered, suddenly excited by that look in her eyes. She leaned back on a her arms, pulling her t-shirt tight around her right breast, a perfect fruit in its own right. Her long, lean legs stretched out over the dirt, unafraid to feel the earth on her bare skin. Her shorts fell loose around her tanned thighs, and I found myself trying to spy panties in the slight gap.
After that sunny day, Cindy dropped by the house regularly, and with each encounter, I found myself more occupied with thoughts of her, in part because she was just an attractive woman, but also because of that seductive look in her eyes, accompanied by a constant leering smile which seemed to invite me to make some move. Nancy never paid the slightest bit of attention to her friend's forwardness, a blindness which slowly eroded any caution in my developing fantasies. By the time the summer began to fade into fall, I thought about Cindy, almost constantly.
The three of us had dinner together on a Wednesday night, nothing special, Cindy just happened to drop by the house and Nancy asked her to stay. As we ate our garden salad, I caught Cindy's eye, and all at once, I knew I had to have her, and that she wanted me to have her, and that nothing on earth was going to stop us. The dinner passed almost in silence. Tension gripped us all.
I went to the office the next day and sat at my desk all morning in a dreamy state somewhere between fantasy, indecision and madness. After lunch, I called home, hoping a few words from Nancy would dispel my uneasy heart. After three rings, I hung up the phone. I couldn't talk to her. I called Cindy's number. Madness had infected me completely.
I almost sighed with relief when no one answered. As I hung up the phone, I realized I had no idea what to say to Cindy. If she was thinking what I thought she was, I could do a dance of love between her thighs, and probably ruin the marriage I had no reason to destroy. If she wasn't, she would probably tell Nancy, and I'd ruin the marriage, just the same.
My gun had jammed, and I'd been spared the crime I had so poorly planned.
When I returned home that night, I wanted to make it all up to Nancy. She would never know what I hadn't done, but I was going to give her all the love she deserved, including the love I had almost wasted on another. I found her in the kitchen. As I embraced her, she seemed to shy away.
"I've been thinking about you," I said. "I called, but . . ."
"I was at Cindy's," she blurted out, her voice trembling.
"This afternoon?"
"Yes," Nancy said, and as quickly started cutting vegetables.
My blood burned through my veins. I tried to tell myself there were a thousand logical explanations, but I could only think of one. I had never known Nancy to lie to me, and never imagined she could ever be unfaithful, but now I faced a colder reality.
I knew I should have just said something, but I couldn't. Nancy seemed so upset that to begin accusing seemed too cruel. Besides, how could I explain the fact that I had called her best friend's house?
There was more to it, I think, than just wanting to catch my wife red-handed in an affair. I loved her deeply, but I was still caught in a state of infatuation for Cindy. I think part of me wanted to justify my own feeling of guilt, so I could indulge myself in a revenge that suited the crime better than just yelling and divorce. If Nancy were cheating on me, fine, I thought, then I can sleep with Cindy.
I'm ashamed to admit it, but I set a trap for my wife. I invented a business dinner for the next Thursday night. I talked about it all week, telling Nancy how much I was dreading it, anticipating the possible promotions that might result, diving into my papers every night to plan every contingency I might encounter.
Late Thursday afternoon, I called home. By this time, I believed Nancy would lie to me.
"So, how are you going to spend your evening alone?"
"Cindy's coming over. We'll probably go to a movie, or maybe do some shopping. What time will you be back?"
"Not before nine," I lied. "Maybe later."
"Well," she said. "Good luck."
"Yeah," I replied coolly. "Thanks, sweetheart."
I drove home at once and parked in the church lot a few blocks from our house. I wanted to be there to see whatever was going to happen. My whole body trembled as I walked toward our house. I hid in the thick hedges that flanked the end, and settled uncomfortably to lean against the wall, crouching.
