Tempted, by the fruit of another...

A stunningly gorgeous blonde opens my office door and leans in to whisper, “I have to cancel tonight and this weekend.”

I smile as I lean across my desk and quietly ask, “why are we whispering?”

Jill, my wife, starts to giggle. “Oops, thought you were on the phone. You typically close the door when you’re on speakerphone.”

Ugh. I forgot about the door again. “Yeah, that call was an hour ago. What do you mean you have to cancel?” I try not to let my disappointment show as I straighten up.

She points at a calendar on my wall behind her with a thumb. “Yeah, that big meeting next week got moved up, starts today. The Northern California people are here and we’re compressing everything in through Sunday.”

This day is not going according to plan. I want to keep this cancellation from taking me the where I don’t want to go. “Ordinarily, that fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants nature of that team of yours, while it can play its havoc on our schedule, it usually isn’t that much of a surprise. Did you think this might happen? You usually do. I had plans for us this weekend.” I need to dial it down a bit, I don’t want to lose it.

“Oh babe.” She brings me into her arms and kisses me. “I’m sorry we’re not going to be where we first kissed like we planned. I’m so sorry.” She hugs me tightly before pulling back. “I’d drive down there tomorrow, but, like I said, all that was planned for next week is getting squeezed into three days, today, tomorrow and Sunday.”

Well that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. What should be happening this weekend now can’t.

She gives me a quick peck. “Your meeting tonight doesn’t end till what 5, 6? You gonna drive back up? Just stay in San Diego overnight?”

“I could stay overnight. That brewery pub I love is there. I had reservations for us there tonight.”

“And you being the planner that you are, I’m sure you already booked a room too. Am I right?”

“Yes, ma’am. You are correct.”

“Just stay the night. Visit the pub. I gotta work late anyway. You should have some fun.”

“Um, yeah. I don’t know.” I don’t know what to make of anything. This is not how I had things planned. “We’ll see. I’ll let you know what I plan.”

She smiles and gives me another peck as she starts walking out and turns back. She is now doing that tilt of her head down while looking over her shoulder at me with that devilish smile. I am enslaved. I have no power against that goddess.

Things have been like they have for that past few years and I thought it might be time to say goodbye to what this night commemorates. It’s been good lately. That’s why I’ve been thinking of ending, thes thing. On a certain level, it’s fine that this day hasn’t gone as planned. I don’t like what this day is for anyway.

 I did already get the room booked and I even packed my suitcase before I left this morning. I’ll just take what I have packed. I may stay tonight or drive back. I’m not worried about it, I’ll decide later.

Not long after Jill left I notice the time. It's 10 am and I’m done here for the day. I pop up and grab my briefcase and sports coat then walk out the door. I don’t have anything else this morning.

So why does this stupid cancelation bother me so much? It wasn’t like she planned this. It’s a work thing. We work for the same company. If work doesn’t go on I’ll know. Why is it I’m fearful she planned this?

I would love to say the signs she’s cheating again aren’t there, but then again, time she was caught, I didn’t see any then. Try as I might, I discern no prophecy from the heavens warning me of coming doom.

These fuming thoughts in my head almost make me miss the street I live on. The domicile of my viking goddess that took my hand in marriage is where my suitcase and garment bag are waiting for me. I then grab both then a bottle of water and a banana before I put get in my car and leave.

I let out a deep sigh when I contemplate how far away this afternoon’s meeting will be. The three hours on the road are different now than when planned. Now, I’ve got to spend them alone.

Will it be just these coming three hours by myself? Will there be more?

Even though I don’t like remembering what this night commemorates, it only does that for me. She isn’t aware her work cancelled our third non-anniversary. She doesn’t know that's what this day has come to be to me.

Four years ago, it was a solemn and excruciatingly long night. Tears filled that night. It was not an easy choice to make, but that night, I told her I would keep her.

From her perspective, our two previous non celebrations of this non event were just enjoyably lovely dinners out. I was thinking of making this the third and last non-anniversary. 

This less than favorable and almost tearful anger nearly makes me miss the on ramp for the I-5. The highway for this long long drive from LA to San Diego. It’s not shitty but nothing special, you don’t even get to see the ocean till you’re south of Oceanside.

My head gets lost in thought as I drive south out of LA. On most days, the light that blinks when you get low on gas never comes on. I never let it get this low. It's not much of a wonder considering I’m irked she canceled.

I get off the I-5 in Oceanside and pull into the gas station selling cheap hot dogs. I put the nozzle in my tank and start filling. I go in to buy another bottle of water.

The shitty night our non-anniversary observes was the night, three years ago and two years into our marriage, that I encountered the other penis. It was walking out my front door as I was about to enter. For reasons I never bothered to examine, I knew this walking penis had just exited my unfaithful wife. How it was I knew didn’t matter, she never attempted to deny.

It was almost as if she cheated on me to prove, with tears, that she really did love me. But, if you put these two things on a scale, my want for her to be my wife and her need to cheat, would they balance? Which is greater?

These convenience stores aren’t always ok on space, and the improper crowding towards the registers at this one was no different. The geezer in front of me seems to have decided on the investment value of purchasing a shit ton of scratchers and chose this afternoon to cash in his allotment. When the other clerk opens his station, I move over to avoid the wait.

“Take your place in line!” An angry, bearded bear holding his nachos in one hand and a 12 pack in the other was gesturing at me with his head that I cut in front of him.

“There was no one in front of me. You were behind. I just got this bottle.”

“You cut in line as I was getting in. Get behind.” He was getting louder.

“Fine.” In attempting to move, I backed into another guy that was placing the lid on his coffee cup.

“Hey! Be careful.”

I just put the bottle on the counter and lift my arms in frustration. “Sometimes all of life is going against you.” I say to no one as I walk out. The clerk, justifiably, doesn’t seem to care.

The rest of the afternoon, the drive, the meeting, they all take place in the ether of me not wanting to be there. My body spoke and did the things it needed to, but in this head, I wasn’t there. I was just mulling over the demise of my 5 year marriage.

If it wasn’t threatened yesterday, why does it feel like it is today? Am I taking it there? Why does it feel like she’s cheating? It was work that cancelled what she doesn’t even know about.

I found myself in front of my hotel room’s window watching the sun set down behind the waves. It’s too bad this mood of mine can’t match the view.

My favorite brewer has a satellite location here, right next to this hotel, which is also next to Sea World. It’s a short picturesque walk along the beach and I stop and peer out at the splashing shore. If only this non-anniversary was going according to plan. I’d be holding her hand, talking about our day tomorrow. Different.

Once at the pub, I take my seat on their patio, overlooking the last rays of the sun as it descends beneath the horizon.

How is my love for Jill like my favorite beer? Juxtapositions don’t make sense.

That favorite beer is the IPA. Britons developed that brew of ale when they had India under their oppressive colonial thumb. Their troops were pissed their beer didn’t survive the journey in a drinkable state. It was getting stale on the voyage there.

Back then, to get anything to India from England, stuff was put on a boat that had to then sail under Africa then go back up. For the ale, that was months too long. They developed what came to be called the India Pale Ale, by increasing the hops, among other things. The IPA could survive that voyage.

So my favorite beer came into being so that decent ale could be given to colonial thugs oppressing the masses. That intoxicatingly ravishing woman I can’t keep my heart from seems to still want the touch of others. Sometimes nothing makes sense.

Nostalgia can, at times, be nefarious. Sea World was where we first kissed. As I get out of the shower the next morning, I can't get over how close to a proverbial fortune I've paid to sit on the couch of a therapist, I could see how my wanting this third non-anniversary to be the end of that and the start of something real. I throw all I have into the trunk as I head over to Sea World down the block.

As I stand in my first line, I start to think how amusement parks can often be thought of as a series of lines. Stand in this one so you can then get in another line, so you can then get in the next. Line after line.

As I’m waiting to get the ticket I already bought, I start thinking back to that day when this pimply faced chubby kid won his high school’s freshman essay contest. Jill was on her school’s debate team, they all got to come. This was the line we were in when we first met.

My group stayed with hers since we all wanted to see the sharks. Which is where I went first on this non-anniversary.

The shark is a deadly, perilous killer in water. Jill can be as lethal to my heart. Why do my thoughts keep taking me there?

Clouds threaten the sun’s dominance. Towards the sea, there are no clouds, but take a peek at the east and you can see them cover the sky. It will be overcast soon.

Why is the sky matching my mood?

Where they have the sharks now is much nicer. That year, it still looked like a high school science lab, geriatric and stale. The lights and decor have more ad revenue behind them now.

Why do things keep looking better? What makes that a must? Jill was not the knockout she later came to be that day we first kissed. Not that I could have landed a knockout. Puberty was being its complicated self back then, for us both.

I almost didn’t recognize her eight years later at her college’s career day. My dad had just started his financial firm. I was there handing out packets, inviting attendees to apply. We were up and coming and open to up and comers, my dad used to joke.

The weather continued its slow decline. It wasn’t as sunny as when the day started and the line for the gondola’s snail-paced trip across the park wasn’t as long.

I was heading across to see the orcas. That was where we first kissed, in the shadow of Shamu. I’m now standing in front of the fanciful looking plastic whale that everyone wants to be in front of for a selfie. What would my therapist say about me now?

Jill ended up working for our company after all. The night our marriage got its start was 18 months after she began with our firm, we were at that year’s non Christmas party. I couldn’t even tell you where it was, all I can remember was how she felt in my arms, holy. I’ve never been the religious type, but from everything I hear about those folks, every time they see something magnificent, that’s what they call it. That’s what she was to me. That’s what she still is.

I get myself a beer while I wait for the next orca show to start. The sky has gotten pretty overcast. These stands aren’t getting as full as they usually do.

Jill never told me why she cheated. She just swore never to again. The furious sound the pen makes on the therapist’s note page as it slid across could be heard when I told him about her cheating. I didn’t have to watch him to hear him writing a shit ton of notes. He won’t tell me why he thinks she cheated. 

If I knew why she was unfaithful then, I might be able to figure out if she’s cheating now. All my therapist keeps doing is asking me what I think. I told him I don’t want to think. I just want to know.

Here was where we first kissed that day. Will orcas forever haunt me now? I’m watching them jump through hoops and all that other goofy kid stuff they do with them. These whales are now just the background to me trying to figure out if Jill wants me to keep her. Does she want to keep me?

I think she liked the attention, she just let it get to her and so she kept wanting more. I don’t know if what she got from me was enough. She must have needed more. I don’t remember giving her any less. I don’t remember anything keeping me from wanting to please her. But I’m not perfect, at anything.

Was I not giving her what she needed?

When the show ended, I found myself walking through the endless chain of gift shops. These shops are not as wicked here as the ones at Disneyland. There, you can’t get out of the park without having to trudge past the 40 plus vendors wanting to separate you from your money.

I already bought the hat I’m wearing when I got here. Now, just the usual magnet for the fridge, you always gotta grab that.

I'm flying blind here. One of the shops near the exit is a essentially wall of mirrors. I stood there and looked at myself. I then asked of my reflection, "What am I to do?”