Is he trying to seduce her, or is it something else entirely?
Angela checked into the bed and breakfast she stayed at the several times a year she came to the beach. She liked the place it because it was away from the ocean in a small historic town that actually was nestled on a cove away from the beach proper and all the associated traffic. Something about the salt air and a leisurely weekend reinvigorated her for facing her depressing situation at home.
She carried her small travel bag upstairs to Room 4, her favorite room. With her travel bag on the bed she peered through the sheer curtains where she could just see the placid bay where boats quietly bobbed next to the dock or at their moorings.
With her clothes neatly situated in drawers she drew out the bottle of wine she brought with her, opened it and poured some of the rich red liquid into a glass. Then, with book and glass in hand, she descended the side stairs to the sitting porch. She always looked forward to relaxing with some wine and a good book after a four hour drive.
One of the two rockers on the porch was occupied by a handsome youngish man writing in a notebook, so Angela settled into the other one and placed her glass on the table between the rockers, noting that another glass of red wine already sat on the table. She glanced over at the 'young man' and smiled to herself that when you're sixty-two most everyone seems young.
The young man was amiable and the two soon struck up a conversation.
"I'm Mike. Mike Shepherd."
"Angela Simmons."
"Do you come here often?"
"Several times a year. Usually with a friend, but sometimes alone. My friend caught a cold and didn't feel like travelling today. We were planning to do the Tour of Homes that they hold every fall. We've been coming for six years or so, although we've been coming here either in the spring or fall for some years before they started the Tour of Homes thing. It's nice to be at the beach after all the tourists have gone. We've done the tour so many times some of the owners know us by name and give us a peek at things the general ticketholder doesn't see. You?"
"I come a couple of times a year, but this is the first time in the fall. I think I rather like it."
"Have you ever stayed here before?"
"I usually stay somewhere right on the beach. What about you?"
"Always here. Room 4. It has a nice view of the bay."
"This is my first time in town. While I find the ocean to be relaxing, I kind of like it here. I'll consider coming here into town more often. I think it will suit my purposes."
"Which are?"
He laughed. "Inspiration. I people watch and study things like the sky and water for creative ideas."
"Artist? There are quite a few here. I know some of them."
He shook his head. "Words. I write."
"For a living? What do you write?"
"Books. But tell me something about yourself." He laughed "You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."
She took a sip from her glass and considered. She didn't usually share personal information, but something about Mike put her at ease. For some unknown reason in her gut she felt he would understand.
He noted her hesitation. "Hey, I don't mean to pry."
"It's okay. It's not like it's a big secret. I come here partly to get away from my asshole husband."
"Whoa. Strong words. How long have you been married?"
"Technically or practically?"
"There's a difference?"
"Technically I've been married thirty nine years. Practically speaking we haven't really been married for the last fifteen of those years."
"There's a story in that, I'm sure,"
"He's always been self-centered, but I decided early on I could live with that. But sometime around our twentieth anniversary he started acting strange, hiding things, secret phone calls and things like that. What blew the lid off of it was a letter from the bank saying they couldn't extend any more credit against the house. That blew me away. I thought the house was nearly paid off. I confronted him and he got really angry, accusing me of prying into his affairs. I let him know that the house was my affair, too. He stormed out. That's when I became suspicious of what he had been doing. He always did the taxes and kept the budget, which was fine with me up until then. I taught high school Social Studies and kept the money I made separate from the family account, which turned out to be a good thing. I used my personal account for travel and clothes and things like that, and socked away a tidy sum for retirement. But I started looking at bank statements he left lying around and was aghast at how much debt he had run up."
She took another sip of wine. "I questioned him and eventually determined he was a heavy gambler. He bet on golf with his golf buddies. He bet on college sports. He bet on pro sports. He played cards. He lost a lot of money. But that wasn't the real kicker. He had a cell phone from work that he always kept with him. If he got a call when we were together he slunk off to take the call privately. If it was a legitimate business call he wouldn't have been so secretive."
"Makes sense. Seems like a red flag."
"One day when he was putting his golf clubs away a slip of paper fell out on the garage floor. He didn't see it, so I picked it up. There was a woman's name and phone number written in a cutesy feminine hand. The next day when he was at work I dialed the number to see if it was just a business contact. Do you know what I got? A strip club. I asked for Krystal, and was told that she had the day off but would be performing the next day. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I started looking for other signs and when I did laundry I found other notes from other women in his pants pockets. Some even had what looked like dates and times on them. That was it. I hired a detective to find out what he was up to."
"I can imagine. You don't need to go any further."
Angela shook her head. "Now that I'm started I need to vent or it will churn inside me and ruin my weekend. It turns out he was meeting these women at hotels. He'd book a room and meet the woman sometime during the afternoon. After twenty or thirty minutes they came out separately and left. I definitely knew of three of these meetings, but from the notes I suspected there were a lot more. I met with a lawyer and had divorce papers drawn up, but didn't file them right away. Then I confronted him. Actually one day he came home from work and found all his stuff in suitcases and bags in the garage, and I told him to get out. I told him I had names, dates and places."
"Good for you."
"He wasn't used to me being assertive, and made like he was going to hit me. I stood up to him and dared him to do it, and he left. The next day he came crawling back, begging. He actually got on his knees and begged me to take him back. What got me was that there was so much debt on the house I couldn't possibly pay it off. He had the big salary. I told him he could move back in, but we'd stay in separate bedrooms. God knows what kind of disease I could catch. I told him that he had to pay off the loans he had taken out. All of them. Every penny. And I told him that I would handle the finances from then on."
Angela sipped wine again and settled back in the rocker. "So, technically we're married, but practically we're not. He has finally paid off everything he owed. I haven't seen any hint of the womanizing behavior for years. We even did begin to sleep in the same bed again. I figured why should I have to wash two sets of sheets all the time? We sleep on opposite sides of the bed and haven't had anything like a marital relationship since this all happened. I mostly travel alone or with a friend, but he will occasionally take me out to dinner - I'm a business asset. But I have no trust in him."
