Good Taste

I feel a soft pressure on my left shoulder and I turn to see her perfectly manicured hand resting on my already tired shoulder.

“Nona, honey, is that you?”

I turn and there she is. Evelyn is tall, confident and dressed for battle. Her picture on Facebook is nice enough, but it doesn’t do her true presence justice. She is striking in a crisp black pantsuit, holding only a small duffle. Her make-up is applied thickly, covering her age but not her beauty.

“Uh, yes it’s me. Evelyn?” I respond, suddenly very aware of my own appearance. I swivel from the polished wooden airport bar top and stand to shake her hand.

“Darlin’ I’m from Texas and as far as I’m concerned we’re sisters from here on out. I need a hug and from the looks of things you do too. Oh, and call me Eve, that’s what all my friends call me,” she says as she leans in and gives me a good squeeze. Her accent is thick but charming.

“Now let’s get to it,” she says motioning to the bartender.

“What’ll it be ladies?”

“Two shots of tequila, over here,” she instructs, motioning to the bartender. “And a margarita. No ice.”

“No ice? Would you like it frozen?” the bartender responds.

“No, I don’t like my drinks watered down, honey,” Eve declares back.

The bartender nods and gives a sly smile. She then turns to me and offers a look of compassion. She can probably tell I’ve been crying. I tried my best to keep it together on the first flight, but I couldn’t help letting a few tears slip.

“I’m fine. Really,” I say trying to avoid her pity. The look of concern on her face tells me she’s not having it.

“Darlin’ ain’t a damn thing about this situation is fine. But we’re gonna need to make the best of it. My momma used to say when God hands you lemons all you can do is make lemonade. To tell you the truth though, the only thing keeping me from gettin’ my shotgun is that damn look I’m gonna see on Joe’s face when I walk into this hotel room.”

“So you really think we should get a key and just open the door?”

“What else were you planning? I ain’t see no other way around it. I don’t know about you but I need to see this with my own eyes.”

“Honestly, I think it’s going to make me sick,” the idea of seeing Richard, my husband, with another man was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. But here I am, sitting with a woman I connected with on Facebook two weeks ago because she sent me a message with the title, “YOUR HUSBAND IS SLEEPING WITH MY HUSBAND!” All caps, too.

And to think I only got on Social Media because my daughter, our daughter, told me it was a good way to keep in touch with lost relatives. I bet Richard would have protested if he knew it was going to lead to all this. A cross-country connection to meet his lover’s spouse. The thought of it turned my stomach.

“Honey, you look sick. Take this.” Her long acrylic nails moved the shot glass delicately and placed it directly in front of me, the edges were frosted in salt and interrupted only by a plump slice of lime.

I nodded and felt the edge of my mouth twinge a bit. I could use a real drink and I appreciated her insistence. We made eye contact before licking the rim and tilting back to let the tequila slide down our throats. Our eyes met again after smashing the limes against our teeth. I felt warm and twenty years younger, but only for a few seconds. A marriage of 28 years ending like this, with a stranger, some tequila and a plan to break in to a hotel room. It was still unbelievable.

“We need another,” she said turning toward the bar and then back to me.

“Oh, no I’m fine. One is more than enough for me.”

“No, we most certainly are not fine!” she said with a laugh.

Her smile was infectious and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t let her down. She was the only one in the world that knew what I was going through and some how she found a way to help me relax.

“Well, at least you’re honest. I’ve been trying so hard to keep myself together. To not let on that I’m hurting but it hasn’t been easy,” I said, accepting the next round.

“Wish we could say the same about those sorry husbands of ours,” she said shaking her head and then smiling before we both gulped the drink. I noticed she had a touch of red lipstick on her tooth, but it was endearing. Everything else about her was so perfect, just a small slice of red across her front tooth that she couldn’t see herself.

“I don’t know about you but we’ve had our share of infidelity,” she went on. “I just thought we were over it. I thought it was something he did when we were younger. And back then I was all about our kids and the money he was bringing in. It didn’t happen often and I thought we would get past it. I thought we would grow old and leave it all in the past. Boy, was I wrong. I just never thought it would be a man,” she chuckled.

I shook my head. “I’ve never dealt with anything like this. Richard has been good to me our entire relationship. I think the only thing that got me here was the proof. The room numbers, the matching itineraries. I just need to see this for myself. I have to admit; this has broken me. I don’t know how you have yourself looking so nice. It’s like you’re actually looking forward to this.”

“Listen here darlin’, if you’ve been through a marriage like mine, you know the one thing you can’t let him see is you looking down. Looking distraught over him while he’s been out around town with God knows who. If you ask me, Joe is just a greedy man. Ain’t nothin’ more to it.”

“That is good advice,” I said look down at my sweatpants. At least they matched my top, I thought. “But what exactly do you mean by greedy?”

“You know greedy. Like he wants everything. Men, women, whatever he can get his hands on. Joe conquers things. Businesses and lovers. It’s just who he is. But for me, this is too much. I’m fixin’ to use this whole situation to my benefit. It ain’t like it used to be, women win big in divorce cases these days.”

“I didn’t even think about that. I just assumed he must be gay.”

“It’s greed, darlin’. It ain’t you. Trust me, I know what your Richard is going to say. Let me save you some time. ‘He’s sorry. He won’t do it again. It was a one-time thing.’ Whatever he tells you, whoever he cheats with, it always all comes down to one thing. He’s a greedy man that wants more than his fair share. It’s that simple. Don’t ever think it’s you. No matter what they say,” she said motioning to the world outside our little Denver airport bar, “it’s because he’s greedy.”

We were on our third shot by now and I wasn’t protesting. We tilted back, went through our routine and came back to the conversation.

“You know, you’re right,” I say shaking my head in acceptance.

“I’ve been dealing with this shit for years. I don’t know about you but I’m done. I can’t wait to bust down this door. Come on, let’s get to the plane. We’ll have almost two hours to work out a plan. I’m so glad to have you with me.”

I nodded, my hesitation gone. I needed to do this. Maybe I wasn’t as excited as Eve, but I needed to see this for myself too. And I was certainly going to suggest part of the plan be a wardrobe change and some fresh make-up.

We both got down off our stools and began walking together toward our gate. It was like being with an old friend. I felt like I had some back-up for the first time since I found out. I had been too embarrassed to tell anyone. But for the first time, I told myself It was him. Not me. I could tell whoever I needed to, it was him, not me and it was because of greed.

“Well at least our husbands have one good quality in common,” Eve said as we reached the gate and got out our tickets.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” I asked.

“Good taste in ex-wives.”

And we both had a good laugh.