I can't believe I've never posted this. This was a short story I'd written back on 3.7.2001. It's a retelling of a short story titled "Nice Girls," that I read some time ago. I can't remember who wrote the original but at any rate my version was fifteen thousand times better. It was inspired by my father and listening to Kent go on about threesomes, and is dedicated to everyone who's ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend/puppy dog cheat on them. "The Benefits of an American Dating Fiasco", as a .pdf
The Benefits of an American Dating Fiasco
The trouble started when Adam decided to find a new girlfriend without telling his wife. He figured letting Mary in on the idea would destroy the entertainment value in the action, not to mention the fact that she probably wouldn't be thrilled with the thought anyway. So he was understandably surprised when he discovered that she and Lily had been sharing calls every afternoon while he was at work.
He started to wonder when every day for a week he'd come home to find Mary emerging from their bathroom, phone in hand and a silly grin on her face.
"How're you doing, sweetie?" she asked when she saw him, carefully putting the phone back on the receiver.
"Who were you talking to?"
"Oh, no one." it went that way for a week, leaving Adam confused and the slightest bit upset, when he finally decided to listen in on their conversations.
That day, he left work ten minutes early. He unlocked the door to their home very carefully and quietly, hoping that Mary would already be on the phone. Sure enough, as he crept up to the bathroom door, he heard his wife's giggly voice.
He couldn't hear the full conversations, and neither woman would acknowledge what was going on, but he could piece together enough of their words to realize that they were talking about him. Adam noticed their hurried good-byes when they somehow sensed he was near, as well as their secretive and not-quite-guilty looks when they walked out of their makeshift phone booths.
"I know what you're doing," he said to Mary.
"I'm not an idiot, you know," he told Lily.
He was sure that would stop it. And indeed, for a few days, it did. There were no phone calls, and when Adam came home he'd find Mary baking a pie in the kitchen, or he'd see Lily watching soap operas from her couch if he went over to her apartment.
But inevitably the communication started again. Instead of flitting around nervously when he was home, they became more casual about their calls, and finally started talking openly, whether he was around or not.
Adam didn't like it. First of all, they were talking about him. And even though there was nothing bad that he could hear, it still made him uncomfortable. He even wondered if this was supposed to be some clever way of getting back at him for having two women at the same time.
Mary was who he was married to, so really, she was the first to come up with such a plan. But Lily was more interesting and creative, so she– no, neither his wife nor his girlfriend were like that. They were both too nice to come up with such a scheming, evil idea. But otherwise… he couldn't see why they were talking about him.
He always hung around them when he listened to their conversations, which were now done without much concern for him– though, sometimes they would say "Excuse me, dear," or "Just a sec, babe," and then close the bathroom door, and he would hear tiny giggles of laughter from Mary if he was home, or loud bursts of it if he spent the night at Lily's. Then they would hang up, the door would open, and one of them would come out smiling at him, or holding out her arms to hug or kiss him. Then she'd say, "Want some of this pie?" if it was Mary, or, "Can I get you a beer?" if it was Lily.
Adam had married Mary because his father had left right after he was born, and his mother always assumed it was her fault. "If only I'd been nicer," she told him countless times. "If only I offered to make more sandwiches. Adam, you're such a nice boy. Marry a nice girl, and you'll never need anything else."
So he'd taken her advice and found Mary, who was as nice as anyone he could imagine. And it didn't bother him that she kept the house up like a maid and could cook like a professional chef. Lily hardly cleaned her house, but she was as sweet as Mary– more exciting, probably, which might have been why he was so interested in her– but still as nice.
But the problem was that now, with all the echoing from the bathroom phone booths, when he heard them laughing and giggling, heard them talking about him with such amusement, he thought the whole thing was becoming rather awkward, and he started to wish that one of them would become annoyed with the situation and end it.
So he tried to turn Mary against Lily by telling her things that he probably would have never said under normal circumstances, but she just turned her head to the side, sat with wide, interested eyes and exclaimed, "Wow!" When that didn't work, he went up to Lily and hinted that Mary was becoming aggravated with their relationship. He told her that she was threatening him, forcing him to come home and stay. But Lily had just nodded and said, "Well sure! I'd probably do the same thing."
And then Adam realized that they were probably discussing that too, and they knew he was only lying. The thought made him sad, and it didn't help that they were still as nice as ever.
"So do you love Adam?" Mary had asked Lily the first time they talked.
"Well, he's pretty sweet. I love his hair–" She paused. "I don't know if he's my type." She didn't like to hurt people's feelings.
"Isn't that strange? In a way, that's how I feel," said Mary. "I mean, I do love him, but I think I've outgrown him."
"Poor Adam."
"Yeah," she said, then hesitated. "Hey, don't tell him. He'd be so crushed."
"Oh, I'd never do that. Hey, your voice is echoing– where are you?"
"In my bathroom. That's where I always do my calls. You sound strange too. Where are you?"
Lily laughed. "In my bathroom, as well. Such an odd thing to have in common."
"Amazing!" They were both very pleased.
After that, they called each other regularly. And when Adam found out, there seemed to be no reason to hide. Sometimes they even left messages for him with each other. "Tell Adam to bring home some eggs." "Tell Adam he left his jacket here again." "Tell Adam…."
Finally, Lily said, "Don't you ever wonder? Let's have lunch."
"You know, I do. Why don't you come here on Saturday? Adam has a hockey game."
So on Saturday they sat at the table in Mary's living room, looking at each other. Lily was skinny with dark red hair, and she moved around so fast that she kept knocking over the coffee. Mary was slow and easy– not really overweight– but her skin was a beautiful pale, and her eyes were blue.
"I thought you'd look, well, wifier… plumper," said Lily, tasting a bite of Mary's apple pie.
"And I thought you'd look sexier. More… bosomier, I guess. You know, the way mistresses normally look."
"Is that what I am? I've never thought of myself as a mistress. Should I stop seeing Adam? Honestly, I do like him, but I can get along without him."
Mary thought for a moment. "I think you've come as a relief. I mean, Adam and I have been married for a very long time now, but somehow this is the most interesting thing that's happened. No, don't stop seeing him. I kind of like it."
It wasn't long before Adam started to feel lonely, and not only lonely, but jealous. Mary and Lily had each other, but he was alone. He wasn't the kind of person who made close friends easily, and certainly not the kind who'd visit bars after work. By closing time all he could think of was going home for a good meal (at Mary's), or something a bit more interesting (at Lily's). On an occasional Saturday he went off to a game with his brother-in-law. It was on one of those Saturdays, when the second half of a baseball game was cancelled because of a sudden rainstorm, that he drove home to find Lily and Mary sitting across from each other, having what looked very much like a victory celebration.
"Hey, this is amazing!" called Lily as she waved him in. "Pumpkin pie! Wait 'til you taste it!"
So that was how the three of them started having dinner together. Adam would drive to Lily's apartment after work to pick her up, and then they'd go to Mary's house for dinner. It didn't take Adam long to realize that when they were all together, dinner was more fun. But nevertheless it made him edgy. After dinner he'd take Lily back to her apartment, and sometimes he'd stay and sometimes he wouldn't.
But once in a while, Mary and Lily would want to keep talking, but Adam would yawn and beg to go to bed. One night he said half-heartedly, "Listen, if you two are going to chat all night, I'm going to Lily's to get some sleep."
"That's all right, babe, go ahead. I'll sleep in the guest room– Mary won't mind, will you?"
"Why would I mind?" asked Mary. "You can help me wash the dishes– did I tell you what my father did next?"
So Adam found himself driving back to Lily's apartment, feeling increasingly annoyed with his plan in the first place. He changed into pajamas and flopped onto the couch. But he couldn't help feeling that something had gone really wrong. Why was he lying here, falling asleep alone? Why was Lily over at Mary's house, laughing and talking? What was the matter with Mary– why wasn't she kicking Lily out?
Adam found Joy one night when he was driving to his apartment from Mary's after dinner. They had started calling the apartment Adam's mostly because he went there alone. He'd lost interest in Lily's body– there was something unpleasant about sleeping with your girlfriend when she's filled up with your wife's food. Besides, she was pretty scrawny anyway.
The weather that night was sinful, slushy with leftover snow. As Adam drove by the bus stop, he saw this soaking figure of a young woman standing under the streetlight with no umbrella and no raincoat– but with an unbelievably sweet, patient look on her face.
Adam slowed the car and rolled down the window. "Hey," he called, "you can't stay out in the rain like this. The last bus has already left."
Her expression drooped considerably. "Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said and nodded. "You need a ride somewhere?"
She took a few steps back. "I don't know if I should…."
"Hey, it's okay. You'll catch your death out here." He opened the passenger door. "Come on, get in." She was homeless and had no place to go, so he took her back to his– Lily's– apartment and put her in Lily's robe and dried her hair with one of Lily's towels. It was dark black and straight.
Adam had ended up deciding not to share Joy with the other two strange members of his family. Even though he didn't feel right hiding her out at the apartment– partly because Lily was still paying rent on it– he figured that she and Mary were going to find out anyway.
And sure enough, a few weeks later, Adam came to Lily's apartment to find Joy walking out from the bathroom.
She smiled and hung up the phone. "How're you doing, sweetie?"
21 September 2004 at 2:04 am | No Comments »
poetry/prose
