February Sucks - For Them

Having something to look forward to was just what they needed. Each day that passed seemed brighter and better than the last. Even the weather was getting warmer. By the time that Friday rolled around, Jim and Linda were like a couple of teenagers on their first date. Linda was home and had obviously showered by the time Jim walked in.

"I have an overnight bag packed for the kids. They're all excited. I'm not quite sure where she heard the term, but Emma's calling it a slumber party because Phil and Jane's kids will be there, as well. I called Mrs. Porter earlier to thank her, and said we'd have a couple of pizzas delivered to her. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not, honey. That's a great idea." She gave him a kiss and noticed he looked a little disappointed.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as their lips parted.

"No, I just thought we'd start the night out right and take our showers together," he replied with a small grin.

"Honey, we have to check into the hotel around seven. You have to get ready, I still have to make myself beautiful, and we have to drop the kids off on the way. If we took one of our marathon showers together, we'd never get there in time; besides, we have all night."

He faked a long, disappointing sigh. "Oh, okay," he moaned before giving her another quick peck on the lips.

"Go on now," she said. "Go get your shower. I'm making a snack for the kids, then I'll be up to finish getting ready."

Emma and Tommy were getting ready for their over-nighter and didn't know their dad was home until they saw him at the top of the stairs. "Hi, Daddy!" they both clamored, rushing to get their hugs. They were both all excited about spending the night with their friends.

He gave them another hug and a kiss when they heard Linda call them downstairs. "Go on," he told them. "Mommy made you guys a snack so you don't get hungry, and I have to get ready."

Linda had a sandwich and a glass of milk waiting for them on the kitchen table. "Mommy and Daddy have to get dressed," she told them, "so you can watch TV when you're done until we're ready to leave."

She was in their bedroom, sitting at her dressing table in her underwear when Jim walked out of the shower. She was watching in the mirror when he took the towel from around his waist. "Do you have a hard-on already? Are you taking Viagra or something?"

"No, I just have the sexiest wife in town. I come out of the shower and you're sitting there in nothing but panties and bra, what do you expect," he joked.

"Are you going to be able to get through the night without coming in your pants?" she teased.

"I don't know," he chuckled, "it depends on how good you look in your new dress."

Linda purposely took her time with her hair and make-up. Jim looked sharp in his suit and tie, but had yet to see the dress. She knew what he was waiting for, but wanted to make an entrance, so she suggested he go downstairs and wait with the kids. She'd be down in a few minutes, she told him.

He was on the couch between the little ones with his arms around them when she made her appearance. "Oh, Mommy, you look beautiful!" Emma exclaimed.

Linda was waiting for the comment from her husband, but he was stunned into silence. She always picked a stunning dress for their Valentine's Day celebrations, but this looked like the world's best designer made it just for her.

The blue color of the dress made her blue eyes shine with an intensity that could penetrate steel. The silky fabric clung to every wonderful curve of her body, yet was flared at the bottom so every flirty move she made on the dance floor would accentuate her long firm legs.

"Well?" she asked after a few seconds of silence.

"I'm speechless, honey. You look... ah, I don't know the words, honey, beyond stunning, beyond gorgeous; I don't think they've invented the word yet for how breathtaking you look."

"Okay, okay, you don't have to go overboard, honey."

"Hon, I couldn't possibly go overboard. You look absolutely amazing."

He had her blushing when Tommy chined in. "Yeah, Mom, you look really pretty."

"Well, thank you all," she said with demure gratitude.

They dropped the kids off and were walking into the lobby of the Madison Hotel a few minutes after seven. Phil and Jane were at the counter checking in. Jim and Linda walked up behind them. "Hey, guys, ready for a fun night?" greeted Linda.

The two friends turned to say hello, but Phil immediately gave Linda the once-over. "Jesus, Linda, you look great."

Jane playfully jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. "You can put your eyes back in your head now," she said sarcastically. "You really do look nice, Linda. You look good, too, Jim."

Linda took the compliments in stride and returned them. "Thank you, kind lady. You two don't look bad yourselves." Jim seconded his wife's comments.

Their friends waited for Jim and Linda to register, then took the elevator together. "See you downstairs in the restaurant in a few," Linda said as the other couple stepped out one floor sooner.

As soon as they stepped into their room, Jim was ready for romance, but Linda put her hand on his mouth before he could kiss her. "If you smear my make-up, I'll murder you before we eat," she threatened with a smile.

Jim looked at his watch. "But we have fifteen minutes, honey; time for a quicky," he joked.

"No quickies for you, lover. I want you all night long."

Linda got more compliments from the entire table as they met the others for dinner. She got air kisses on each cheek from Dee. As usual, when they all got together, the conversation was lively and the jokes were plentiful from the appetizers through dessert. Everyone was still laughing and having a good time when they walked to the club. They all checked their coats and were shown to their table. Linda and Jim held hands the whole way.

A cute waitress in a skimpy outfit came over to take their drink orders. Everyone was waiting to be served before making use of the dance floor. When the drinks arrived, Linda took a sip from her Strawberry Daiquiri, then grabbed Jim's hand. "Come on, honey, let's show'em how it's done." The rest of the table got up and followed them out to join in the fun.

The band wasn't what anyone would call, "tight," but they had a great repertoire of songs and mixed them well. Linda and Jim were among the last to return to their table for a rest.

Linda was a better dancer than Jim, but he could still hold his own. Linda was never embarrassed with him as her partner, however, with her husband's permission, she would occasionally accept a dance invitation from someone a little lighter on their feet, so Jim was surprised when she turned down a request from Dave, the group's best dancer. "Thanks, Dave, but Jim has my dance card completely filled tonight," she said.

The conversation was flowing again as everyone enjoyed a short breather, when Dee noticed an excited murmur from the surrounding tables. She instinctively looked toward the entrance. "Oh, my God," she said loud enough for the whole table to hear her, "that's Marc LaValliere."

Everyone in the city knew who Marc LaValliere was, even women who didn't follow football, including Linda. He was the star tight-end for the city's NFL team. Unlike some of the other team members, he stayed in Chicago year-round.

He was the kind of man every other guy in the place envied. He was tall, good-looking, well-built, had plenty of money, and by the way the women at the table were fawning over him, a real ladies' man. In addition to all that, he had a reputation for being a genuinely good guy, and was as famous for his community good works and generosity as he was his exploits on the field. He walked in with two other guys from the team, and was immediately shown to a table not far from the group's.

Of course, he immediately became the main topic of conversation. The men talked about his extraordinary feats on the field while the women praised his generosity, good nature, and bulging muscles.

After a few minutes, Dee reached over and put her hand on Linda's arm to get her attention. "Look," she excitedly muttered as Mr. Football stood up, "I think he's going to ask someone to dance." Sure enough, all eyes were on him as he strolled across the floor and approached very pretty thirty-something blond.

What Jim saw, he didn't like. The woman was with someone, whether it was her husband or just a date, he didn't know and it really didn't matter. He always considered it bad manners to ask a lady to dance without first asking permission from the man she was with. Of course, he couldn't hear what was said, but it appeared as if LaValliere totally ignored her escort.

His train of thought was interrupted by his wife's comment. "Jesus, for a big man, he really moves well."

"You can say that again," Dee concurred.

The men picked up the conversation again as the women around the table had their eyes glued to the dancing couple. They danced through one full song, but it looked like the woman broke away and went back to her table before the second song was over. LaValliere walked back to his table, and Jim saw him glance in their direction before taking his seat.

Thankfully, for Jim, the conversation around the table turned away from Mr. Football and centered around more jovial matters, as usual. Jim was about to ask Linda if she was ready for round two when he noticed his friends on the other side of the table staring up. Before he could turn to see what they were looking at, he heard a voice from over his shoulder.

"I'm Marc LaValliere, may I have this dance?" He was holding his hand out to Linda.

Dee saw the anger in Jim's face and knew he was about to say something. "Jim," she whispered loud enough for him and several others to hear, "don't, please, it's only a dance, don't ruin it for her."

By that time, Linda had taken LaValliere's hand and was already out of her seat, anyway. Jim, accepting Dee's plea, didn't say anything but his anger was obvious to everyone there.

"Well, so much for, I'm saving all my dances for my husband," Dave chuckled in Jim's direction. "Ouch," he said, as Dee kicked him under the table.

Paul was the next who thought he'd rib his friend. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Jim," he said with a laugh.

His answer let everyone know he didn't consider it a laughing matter. "I'm not jealous, I'm pissed. I don't mind them dancing, what I mind is the total disrespect I just got from him, as well as my wife. That arrogant asshole completely ignored me like I wasn't even here. It's an insult, but I think I'm angrier with Linda. She knows how I feel about that and always asks permission to dance with someone we don't know. It just shows that a wife loves and respects her husband, and I've never refused her. This time she ignored me just like he did."

"Jim, it's Marc LaValliere," Jane said, adding in her two-cent's worth.

"I don't care who it is," he countered. "You don't walk up to a woman, totally ignore her escort, and ask her to dance. It's extremely rude. He did the same thing when he asked that other woman to dance."

Everyone at the table thought it was probably best to let it drop. One of the other friends decided it was a good time to bring up the new car he was looking to buy. Jim didn't want to ruin the evening he had planned with Linda so he tried to put the incident behind him and joined the conversation, but with one eye still on his wife.

The band was playing a slow song. Based on their earlier repertory, Jim figured the second song would be faster and his wife would probably rejoin them. Unfortunately, he was unaware that LaValliere had talked to the band and asked them to play several slow songs in a row.

Jim's anger increase as he watched his wife melt into the arms of the football star for a second dance. Talk about disrespecting your husband, he thought to himself. When it continued for a third dance, Jim had had enough. "I'm going to put a stop to this right now," he angrily said as he stood.

Dee grabbed his arm. "Jim, please... think of how grateful she'll be to you, later tonight. Please, let her have her moment."

"Yeah, come on, man," Dave and Paul both chimed in. "They're not hurting anything. They're right there. We can all see them."

Jim looked at his wife with a sigh, and against his better judgment, sat back down. He tried his best to rejoin the conversation, but was having a hard time and was gratefully relieved when the band announced they were taking a fifteen-minute break. He saw his wife heading back to the table after dancing three slow songs with LaValliere.

He watched her face as she approached. She wasn't grinning like everyone would have thought; instead, her expression was of worry and guilt. Jim could see she knew she did wrong and decided he wasn't going to make a fuss. He really didn't want to spoil the rest of the night.

Before even taking her seat, Linda told everyone at the table she had to freshen up and asked Dee to join her in the ladies room. Dee was barely able to contain herself until the washroom door closed behind them.

"Well," she asked with excitement, "how was it? Could you feel his hard-on while he danced with you?"

"Oh, yeah," Linda replied, "he kept rubbing it into me right from the start."

"Did it feel big?"

"I don't think it's bigger than any other guy's. I don't know, I couldn't really tell."

While Dee was thinking it over, Linda took advantage of the lull. "He wants me to spend the night with him."

Dee was still thinking about the size of LaValliere's package and didn't fully grasp what her friend said. "What... who?"

"Marc, who do you think?"

"You... you mean he wants you to go home with him, and... and spend the night?"

"Exactly," Linda confirmed. "Dee, I don't know what to do. I've never cheated on Jim before, but this is Marc LaValliere. I'll never ever get an opportunity like this again.

"Did Jim say anything when we were dancing?"

"Oh, yeah, he's pissed," Dee replied. "First, he was pissed that Marc ignored him when he asked you to dance. He's also pissed at you for not asking his permission before accepting."

"Yeah, I thought about that as we were walking onto the dance floor, but it was too late by that time."

Dee had thought it over and was ready to offer her advice. "Honey, Jim's already so pissed, any romantic plans you guys had for tonight are probably shot anyway, I'd go for it."

"You really think so?"

"Shit, yeah. Like you said, how many opportunities like this come along in a lifetime?"

"What about Jim?"

"I'll smooth it over with him, don't worry. I'll make him understand."

Dee watched as the wheels turned in Linda's head. She finally made a decision. "I'm going to do it," she exclaimed. "Heaven help me, I just can't pass this up."

"How are you going to get out of here? You know if Jim sees you leave, he's going to confront you. He might even be stupid enough to try and fight Marc."

"Marc says he has a back way out of here. He slipped me his number and said to text him from the ladies room if I decided to go. He'll meet me in the hall and Jim will never see us leave."

"Then text him, by all means, before Jim wonders why we're taking so long and comes back here looking for us."

*****

Jim had been so intent on watching Linda and LaValliere, he didn't realize how badly he had to visit the little boy's room. He thought about holding it until Dee and his wife got back but didn't know how long they'd be and didn't see any advantage in waiting, so he stood and excused himself. Unlike the ladies room that was just off the dance floor, the men's room was in the bar area.

When he got back, he saw Dee sitting next to Dave, but Linda's chair was empty. The band hadn't come back yet so he knew she wasn't dancing. "Where's Linda?"

"Don't worry, Jim, she's fine. She just had something to do."

Jim wondered what the hell was going on. Everyone was looking at him with strange expressions. The only thing he could think of was that Linda had some kind of surprise for him to make up for her earlier actions. He took his seat and tried to relax, but the mood around the table had changed. Everyone was quieter and more subdued. As the minutes ticked away, he was getting more and more anxious. "What's going on, Dee, where's Linda?"

"Jim, I told you, she's fine."

"I didn't ask about her health, Dee. Where is she? Did she go back to the hotel?"

She could see he was getting agitated and wasn't sure she could keep it from him much longer. "Please, Jim, just relax." She knew she'd have to tell him sooner or later, but she was hoping for later... much later. She saw him pull out his phone. "What are you doing?"

"I'm calling her. I want to know what's going on." When her phone went right to voicemail, he called the hotel. He still had their number from when he made the reservations. "Yes," he said as soon as they answered, "room four-eighty-one, please." He let it ring about fifteen times before giving up. He looked at Dee and decided he was going to start making some noise until he found his wife. He abruptly stood up and started for the bar.

"Jim, where are you going?" yelled Dee.

"If you won't tell me where she is, I'll turn this place upside-down until I find her," he yelled back.

Dee got up and ran after him. She grabbed his arm just as he was about to ask for the manager. "Jim, she's not here. She's not in the club."

"Then where the fuck is she, Dee? I mean it," he said, menacingly. "You tell me what's going on or my next call is to the cops."

As she looked into his eyes, she wasn't nearly as sure she'd be able to smooth this over as she was in the ladies room. "Jim, Linda loves you and the kids with all her heart, I'm sure you know that. You guys are her whole world. She couldn't survive without you, but sometimes we all have to do something just for us."

Her little soliloquy hadn't fazed him one bit. "Where is she, Dee?"

His voice was low, determined, and downright scary. "She's spending the night with Marc."

It took a second for her words to penetrate. "I don't get it, what do you mean she's spending the night with him? You mean she left me for him? She'd never..."

"No," Dee cut him off, "she didn't leave you for him. She'll be back tomorrow morning. Jim, she loves you more than life itself, but like I said, sometimes we just HAVE to do some things for ourselves. It wasn't her idea. He asked her to go home with him. It will never happen again, Jim. Please let her have this one night and she'll be grateful for the rest of her life."

"That's what you said about the dance," he snarled back.

He still couldn't believe it, he had to see for himself. A scared Dee followed behind as he returned to the table. He looked at his wife's empty chair, then over to where LaValliere had been sitting. When he saw that only two of the three chairs at that table were still occupied, he knew it was true. He looked around the table. Everyone was avoiding his stare. He didn't think he could be any angrier, but he was wrong. He could tell by their expressions that they all knew, and no one said a fucking word.

At that point, the irate husband didn't care who knew, in fact, he wanted everyone to know. He spoke loud and clear. "You all knew! Every fucking one of you knew my wife was going to sneak off and spend the night with that wife stealing son-of-a-bitch, Marc LaValliere, and not one of you said a word to me.

"That prick uses his reputation, money, and so-called charm to break up my marriage, to tear my family apart, and you all just sat back and let it happen. We have two KIDS! I know a wife stealing piece of shit like LaValliere doesn't care whose happy home he destroys as long as he gets his rock off, but you were supposed to be our friends."