You may have noticed that there are a few places around your house where dust gathers and gets overlooked by the person (i.e., wife/girlfriend) who normally does the dusting. Examples include places like high shelves, behind the TV screen, fragile antiques, the lower rungs of chairs and windows. I know a lot about window dust since I run the window replacement department of a large construction business. Even though I am chauvinist enough to believe 'real men don't dust,' there are some times when I get disgusted enough to betray my gender and I dust. This story starts with a dusting incident that changed my world.
I don't brag about it to my male friends, but one household chore that I tolerate performing is changing sheets on our bed. Hey, I do some of my best work on clean sheets. In the process of putting on new sheets one day, I got too flamboyant with throwing the sheet up in the air to get it to lay out on the bed just right that I wound up knocking off one of my wife's ceramic angels that are on the high shelf above our bed's headboard. Don't ask me why she wants them there. Luckily, the mattress kept the fallen angel from breaking. After standing on the bed in my sock feet, but before I replaced the angel, I noticed that the shelf was covered in dust. Since no one was around to see me, I got a rag (okay, I used one of our good washcloths) and returned to the shelf.
Just prior to wiping any dust, I saw that there was an area around another angel that was fairly clean. That meant someone had been doing something with that angel recently. My wife probably can't reach the shelf even standing on the bed, so it couldn't have been her by herself. Plus, if she had been there, she wouldn't have neglected dusting the whole shelf. I got the angel and looked at it. To my surprise, I saw that it had a camera lens in one of the doll's eyes. All kinds of ideas popped into my head, some of which were potentially devastating, so I put the angel back and got down, leaving the dust right where it was.
I went downstairs, poured a cup of coffee, and turned my thinking cap on. Why would Cynthia have a camera put in our bedroom? I came up with these possible answers: to spy on me to see if I was having an affair, to make a video of our lovemaking to have to watch and pleasure herself when I was gone on out-of-town installations, or to make a video when she and her lover were using our bed so they could enjoy seeing themselves. And, no, at the time I did not really suspect she had a lover.
Knowing very little about such technology, I called the guy who does the security installations for our business who also installs home security for private homes on the side. He is often hired by private investigator agencies. Paul told me that I needed to IMMEDIATELY find the recording device the camera was linked to. I asked if he could help. He said he would come right over.
"Paul, what's the deal on finding the recording device right away?"
"Well Ryan, your image was probably captured on the device when you examined the angel. Assuming the image wasn't live streamed, as soon as someone checks the recording, they will know you know. That could make it hard to impossible to find out who put it there. Isn't that the first thing you want to know after seeing what has been recorded?"
"Gee, I hadn't thought about all that."
After searching around, we found the device in our basement hidden behind some old paint cans on a shelf. He took out the disc and we went upstairs to put the disc in the DVD player. There were a couple of nights showing me and Cynthia going to bed. One of the nights we were making love that would barely qualify as pornography. Then came the scene where I had discovered the camera.
After checking the disc, Paul remarked, "Good news. It does not look like anyone has checked the latest video and it does not look like a device that is live streaming on anyone's computer, but I can't tell for sure. We can mess up the recording on the disc so that someone will think it was a bad disc and not see your image or suspect you found the camera. That gives you some time to figure out what's going on."
"Do you need my help?"
"No, why don't you go make yourself a cup of coffee? I'll come up when I'm through."
While Paul was finishing up his work, I went back to the kitchen table, coffee, and thinking cap. How should I approach letting Cynthia know I found out about the camera? I could ignore it and see if she ever brings it up. I could do some foolish things for the camera to see if that provokes a comment from her. I could just confront her. I did not like the last option because Cynthia has been extra grouchy lately. If I did anything to accuse her of something improper without proof, she might go ballistic on me. Maybe her grouchiness is related to the camera. Hmmm? As soon as Paul finished, I took him out for a beer.
After much thought, I decided to go with acting foolish. There was a new girl, Terri, in our sales office that was close to a ten on most men's lust scale. She had been able to handle all the leers and suggestive comments from the men with rejection yet without making them angry. Usually she was fun loving and enjoyed a good laugh. I approached her at lunch to tell her my scheme. Terri smiled and agreed to help me.
My wife is friends with one of the secretaries in the office because the secretary, Harriet, used to work where Cynthia still works. I know she and the secretary talk on a regular basis. I further know that my behavior towards other women in the office is a frequent topic of their conversations. Cynthia has always been suspicious of me and other women I guess because she knew she was my second choice for a wife. She found out during an incident at my ten-year high school year reunion.
Dale, my old rival, let Cynthia and everyone nearby know that he had bested me for the hand of his now wife. We both had dated her. Unfortunately for me, she was my first choice, but I was her second choice. Shortly after their engagement, I met, dated and married Cynthia. Some people assumed it was a rebound situation, but, despite the circumstances, I loved Cynthia and have loved Cynthia very much for over ten years.
The new girl and I stationed ourselves out of sight but within hearing distance of the secretary.
"Ryan, I can't wait to try the new game in bed. When can we do it?"
"I think I can take a long lunch break tomorrow. Can you?"
"No problem. I'm so excited. I've never done that in bed before."
"Me either. There's no one I would rather do it with for the first time than you."
"Thanks, that means a lot."
The seed was planted. Now to see if it would be harvested.
When I came home, I saw Cynthia in the kitchen. She did not have a happy face on. "Ryan, I have some time free for lunch tomorrow. Do you want to have lunch together? We haven't done that for a while." I could tell she was trying to read my physical reaction.
I stammered, "Well, . . . uh . . . I kind of . . .uh . . . have lunch plans already. Sorry, can I get a rain check? You know that normally I would not pass up a chance to have lunch with you but . . . it's an old client that owns an apartment complex and I don't want to disappoint her, I mean him." I was pleased with my acting job.
She gave me an all-knowing look and said, "Oh well, another time I guess."
The rest of our evening, we kept both a physical and emotional distance from each other. I read a sports magazine and watched a TV show. She did some laundry and worked crossword puzzles. We both turned in about regular bedtime. Neither of us initiated any physical contact.
The next day, Terri and I made our secretive getaway known to Harriet and headed for my house. We went straight up to my bedroom and plopped down on the bed directly in view of the angel with the camera.
I asked, "Are you ready for the best time of your life?"
"Yes. Who goes first?"
"You're my guest so you get to." I pulled out a deck of UNO cards and gave each of us seven cards. I turned over the starter card and off we went playing UNO in bed. After several hands we decided it was time to go back to the office.
Once again, we passed the secretary. "Thanks Ryan, that's the best time I've had in bed in a long time."
"Me, too. I just wish I had had enough time for a cigarette afterwards."
Once we were out of hearing range, Terri told me that she was dying to hear tomorrow how my conversation with the wife went tonight.
It was hard to work the rest of the afternoon not knowing what I would be facing tonight. Finally, work was over, and I headed home. I didn't try to rush home as I wanted my wife to have enough time to view the video. I couldn't help grinning from ear-to-ear.
When I got home, I was surprised to see Cynthia sitting on the couch crying. Her sadness turned to anger when she saw me. "You bastard. How could you? And with a girl almost half your age. How could you? Doesn't our marriage mean anything to you?"
I was perplexed but played dumb. "What are you talking about? What girl half my age?"
"Don't give me that. I heard all about it. Bringing that girl into our home, cheating in our marital bed no less. I saw the messed-up bed. I want you to leave, NOW!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You could not have seen anything that would make you think we had sex. What are you talking about?"
"I didn't say I SAW anything. I heard from Harriet about your liaison with the new girl. You were almost bragging about it. I suppose you think you got away with it because I don't have any pictures or video, but I know . . . "
"Wait a minute. You do have a video. You mean you didn't watch it?"
"What video? What are you talking about?
"The video from the camera you hid in our bedroom."
"What are you talking about? What camera?"
"The camera in the angel."
"What camera in what angel? What ARE you talking about?"
"Why do you keep repeating yourself? You know damn well what camera. You put it there!"
"I didn't put any damn camera anywhere. If I did have a camera right now, I'd put it up your ass!"
"Oh, that's the way you're going to play it,
dear
. You probably took the camera down after you saw what I had done. Now you're accusing me of making up a story so you can finger me to be the bad guy."
"If you are saying I had anything to do with a spy camera in our bedroom, you bet I'm saying you're making it up or you're the one who did it, asshole."
