Was it a Wrong Number?

I grew up in a good home. Broken, yet good. Well mothered, well cared for and loved, I grew up to respect the hard work of my mom and what she went through. With a cheating father, dead-beat step dad, later I died a little bit inside when my mom lost to cancer what I believed to be her one true love.

Love was important to her… I grew up believing love was important to me.

Life had a whole lot of twists and turns for me. Yet I was living my ‘dream life’ with my high school sweetheart come wife and my business working out wonderfully. Life was good.

Four years into our marriage, life was suddenly not so good. From my father-in-law I found out that my wife had been carrying on some clandestine activities… she was cheating on me. Why? I had no idea. Our sex life was good, we communicated well, we went to dinners and parties and she seemed quite pleased with our life together. We were even talking about having kids. Well, that was about four months ago. With my work being somewhat intense, her job with the clinic running into later and later hours, we had been seeing less and less of each other.

After hiring an investigator, I had the proof I needed. Pictures I could not bring myself to look at, recordings of phone conversations I refused to listen to, but was made fully aware of their content.

Needing to keep my head in a huge contract, I decided we needed to talk to a counselor before I could give up on this joke our marriage had become. As a careful planner, I had a schedule in mind of how it was going to work. Finishing a lucrative contract would allow us time to take off from both our jobs and see if we really did want to stay together. After deciding on that plan, I stopped worrying about anything, though I knew she continued to have other plans.

About two-thirty on a Saturday morning, the phone rang at my bedside. Used to customer calls at odd hours, with my best ‘I’m awake voice’, “Hi. This is Greg.”

The voice on the other end sounded a little hesitant. “Hi, Greg. This is Michelle.”

Still muddled from sleep trying to think which one of my customers it could be, “Hey, Michelle. What can I do for you?”

“Well, when you gave me your number, you did say to call you any time.”

“Ah, well, I figured if you needed any help, a gentleman should be available any hour of the day.”

“That’s nice. Thank you. You certainly were a gentleman at Dwight’s party.”

Okay, I’m not big on parties, but I attend gatherings now and then with some of the folks from work. ‘Dwight’ seemed familiar, too, but I just couldn’t place it… or anyone I would have given my number at a party. “Dwight… how is he?”

“Good. I saw him last week. He encouraged me to call you if I felt like I could use a little… help.”

“Hang on just a sec… don’t go away.”

A bit less sleep muddled, I took the phone into my office to keep from waking my wife. Once seated, I flipped on my computer and opened my notes. Still not finding anyone named Michelle or Dwight, “You said you needed some help. What can I do for you?”

Not exactly answering my question, “So, I really enjoyed our time together.”

Dang! Who is Michelle? “Thank you. I try.”

“Listen, I know this is crazy, me calling you like this, but Dwight insisted I call if I needed anything. You were pretty clear on that, too.”

“So… computer problems?” Wracking my brain, it could be any one of three different office managers or an employee calling from a personal cell phone. No clue.

“I know it’s late… but if I said I was having computer problems would you come over to fix them?”

“I could, if you need me to. Hardware of software?”

With a bit of an odd giggle, “Both, I think.” 

Still trying to figure out who this was, “Are you working from the office or from home.”

“I’m at home.”

Desperately not wanting to upset a customer, “I don’t mind coming over at this hour, but I may have to charge you a little extra for a night time callout.”

With a laugh, she replied, “You can charge me whatever extra you think I can pay.”

“Text your address to this number and I’ll see you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

With three medical practices switching over to the new software at the same time, there were just too many people to keep tabs on. Twenty minutes later I was outside a secured door. I needed to ring the suite.

A scratchy voice came across the intercom, “I hope you brought your all of your… computer tools. Come on up. The door will be open.”

Second floor, down the hallway, open door. Walking in and pushing the door shut behind me, as it clicked shut a voice called out, “I’m in the living room. Care for something to drink? I’m nursing a glass of liquid courage, but I can fix you anything you’d like.”

Following the voice, I walked into a nicely appointed living room.

Michelle was seated on the couch wearing little more than some sort of night gown with a light robe over. I did not recognize her!

“Who the hell are you!?” she practically screamed!

Backing toward the door I figured I’d gone into the wrong condo! “Jeez! I’m sorry! I’m Greg! I just came in response to a callout for a computer repair!”

She was still on the edge of screaming, “You’re not Greg! Who the hell are you?!”

Backing toward the door, “I’m sorry! My name is Greg! I was just answering a callout by one of my customers named Michelle!”

Seeming to soften just a little, but still insistent, “You’re not the Greg I met at Dwight’s!”

“And I don’t remember you from any party or any of my customer’s offices. So, I guess that makes us even. I’m sorry… this must have been one of the more bizarre mistakes either of us has ever made.”

“But… Greg gave me his number!” Holding up a business card, “Here! See?”

Looking across the room, it was definitely not my card. Taking it to look at the number, it was almost identical though. Transpose two digits and she would be calling me. Grabbing one of my cards, I handed both back to her. As she reached up for them, I froze. It suddenly dawned on me she had something other than computer repair on her mind for this other Greg. Her robe was open revealing a lacy negligée of some sort like I had only seen in my wife’s magazines. That was when it hit me! Looking away, I could feel myself turning bright red.

As she took the cards, it also dawned on her that her state of dress, or undress as it were, could be a little compromising since I’m not the Greg she was expecting.

Adjusting her robe in an attempt to hide some of what had briefly caught my attention, we both looked in each other’s eyes. The whole situation registered to both of us in the same instant. She started laughing first, followed by my beginning to chuckle at my next outbreath. The laughter grew for a moment until we were both giggling in a silly way.

She reached out and smiled, “Hi, Greg. I’m Michelle.”

I shook her hand like any reasonable man in such a weird situation, “Hi, Michelle. I’m Greg. A different Greg, but Greg just the same.”

“Obviously I’m not going to have the company I expected tonight. You should probably excuse me a moment.”

With that, she got up and headed off toward what I assumed to be her bedroom. Watching as she went, I embarrassed myself a little more. I had to shake my head and give myself a little mental slap for my thoughts. This was definitely not what I had expected either.

When she came back into the room, a much heavier robe covered her from neck to ankles… all except her incredible smile and lovely eyes. “Well, unless you have anything better to do, I can fix you that drink and we can chat a bit. That is, if you would like.”

“Ummm… actually, yes, I would like a drink. Calm my nerves a little. This whole mistake was rather startling.”

Walking over to a small wet bar. “What’s your poison? I have some very old single-malt if you are of a mind.”

“Sounds good. Just a short shot, please. I still need to do a little driving tonight. No sense in giving the RBT folks a new guest at their trailer.”

Chuckling, “I know what you mean!”

Turning back to me, she held two glasses of scotch – one about half full, the other with maybe a finger. As she set down on the couch again, she placed my drink on the coffee table and pointed toward the nearest chair.  Holding her glass up she smiled, “I’m not driving.”

I sat down quickly, grabbed my drink, lightly clinking it against hers to which she said brightly, “Cheers.”

“Santé!” Continuing, “So, this other Greg. Is he a nice guy?”

“I think so. Dwight introduced us at a party the weekend of the third. He had my number, but hadn’t called. When he didn’t… well… I just sort of decided… you know.”

“Hey! Hooray for liberated women! A lot of men need a two by four across the back of the head in situations that involve the heart. I know I’ve needed that a few times. Still do.”

“I suppose you can guess at the two by four I was going for.”

Chuckling, “Yes. I kind of figured. I’m kind of sorry that I’m not your Greg. I imagine you could have been having a pretty nice evening if he’s that much of a good guy.” Taking a sip of my drink, “Mmmm… good stuff.”

“That one is a twenty-five-year-old cask strength Laphroaig. My dad was into good scotch. When I was a teenager, he caught me sneaking a sip from his bar. Rather than punish me, he taught me all about the different kinds of scotch and other whiskeys. I gained an appreciation for a good sipping whiskey. I usually only sip. I guess my nerves were a little rattled tonight.”

I nodded appreciatively.

“So, what do you do Mr. Not My Greg? Computers, I’m guessing.”

“Yup. I own a small software development company. We’re just finishing a contract for a medical package for a corporation that manages three different medical practices. When you called, I was dead asleep. Until I got here, I’ve been trying to figure out which office you were working with.”

With a warm, disarming giggle, “Sorry about that. I was just looking for a little… well… you know. I was a bit lonely and wanted some company. And actually, I have no idea what my other Greg does so when you said ‘computers’, I just sort of went with it.”

“Reminds me of a wrong number I got many years ago. I ended up chatting about math with someone I thought was a fellow classmate from my school for hours before we both realized it had been a wrong number.”

“Oh, my God! Math teacher! I thought I recognized your voice. That was you then, too! We talked about my math homework for almost four hours!”

“You’ve GOT to be kidding!”

“No! Seriously! You helped me pass my math exam! I thought you were my math teacher!”

“And I thought you were a girl in my math class with me! How crazy is THAT? Two wrong numbers, years apart, and both times it was me that answered!”

“I think The Fates are playing games with us. What do you think the odds are on that one?”

“Whatever they are, it would take a Las Vegas bookie to figure it out. So… how have you been? You said you passed your math test?”

“Aced it. That trick you taught me about quadratics and cubic equations was great! I ended up continuing with math once I figured… well… you showed me how easy it could be.”

“So, what do you do these days? I mean, other than dial up strangers late at night.”

Taking another sip of her drink, “I’m actually a little embarrassed.”

“Well, I’m not sure what the job title would be, but.” waving my arm around the room, “obviously you found a good niche. Still math in some way?”

Hesitating at first, then with a smile and a blush that told of her pride, “I’m a full-blown mathematician, PHD and all, with a couple of interdisciplinary Masters. I’m contracted to conduct research in fundamental mathematics and in application of mathematical techniques to science, management, and other fields for the Research Center on North Terrace and the UCA physics and science center.”

“Wow! Seriously impressed and surprised. The medical research group on the upper floors is my biggest customer. I’m really surprised I haven’t seen you in the building… I assure you I would have noticed.”

“I do tend to look a lot different in my lab coat and glasses with my hair pulled back into a bun. You’ll need to pay closer attention next time you are there. Beyond all that nonsense, what direction did you take? You said you own a software development company. Just medical?”

“No, no… we do all kinds of programming. We have both private and government contracts. Government contracts can be on-again and off-again depending on the political leanings in DC, so it just makes sense to do other development to keep our income steady. Thence, me being on a callout at this hour of night.”

Neither of us knew what to say next. We both took sips of our drinks. I finally asked, “Tell me, Michelle… is everything okay? I’m getting a strange vibe here and am just not sure what to think.”

Looking down at her drink for a few moments, finally answering, “I get lonely.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Looking up at me, a little more forcefully, “I get lonely, damn it! All I meet at work are guys that are more interested in the two ends of the spectrum… sex or science. Nothing in between. Nothing between their ears either as far as I am concerned. When you look at me, what do you see? Be honest. What do you really see when you look at me?”

Raising my brows a little, “A lovely lady. A really lovely lady.”

Wrapping her arms around herself, “I want you to see me. I want you to see the real me! I mean, the other Greg, I wanted him to see the real me. The woman. Not the geek or the party girl. When men find out that I’m actually pretty damned intelligent, they get scared off. I want someone that can talk to me! I want someone that will hold me in the night and tell me everything will be okay.” Then meekly, “I want someone that can love me for exactly who I am without being intimidated or just being dirty old men. I want to be loved for me.” Then with a chuckle, “I guess I had a little more liquid courage before you got here than I thought.”

“Good grief, girl! What kind of men have you been seeing? For as educated as they may be, obviously you have been seeing nothing but idiots!”

“I begin to wonder what else there is out there.”

“I would hope a lot more than what you’ve experienced so far. I would hope we choose our partners based on mutual attraction that goes way beyond just what you see when you look in the mirror,” teasingly, “…or flash wantonly at some stranger.”

Michelle looked at me for a moment, obviously thinking about what I said. “So how am I supposed meet guys like you?”

“Well, you could just continue random phone dialing. Seems to have worked out so far.”

Both laughing, she continued, “Tell me more about you. What do I look for in a guy that would right for me?”

“Hmmm… good question. I guess it kind of speaks to kissing a lot of frogs before you find your prince charming.”

“Yeah… frogs. Lizards. Snakes. Weasels.” With a sigh, “Seriously, though. What do I look for? What kind of list of deal makers and deal breakers do I need to put together?”

“Google that one. I can guarantee you will find a lot of good lists.”

“Yeah… and the first thing on the list is avoid married men and men that lie about being married.”

Standing, finishing the last little swallow of my scotch, “On that note, I should be going.”

“What?” Looking at my hand she realized for the first time that I wore a wedding ring. “Oh. It figures.”

With a deep sigh, “Look. My situation is complicated. I caught my wife cheating on me and we’re going to try to work it out.” Then a little softer, “At least I’m going to try to work it out.”

“More truth to the saying that all the good ones are taken. You’ll have to let me know how that goes. You don’t seem like the kind of guy that a lady would cheat on.”

“I didn’t think I was,” as I continued toward the door.

“Would you like to talk some more about this sometime?”

Thinking about everything that had been happening over the last few months, in a gestalt moment of realization, “Yes. I think I would.”

“Okay. Lunch Monday? Science Center lounge?”

With surprisingly little hesitation, “See you then.”

Michelle smiled, “Sounds good.”