Unable to clear his mind, he called Stone and asked him to meet for a drink. Stone’s calm disposition and objectivity might help settle him down. Mike once told him that his name should have been “Stonewall” instead of Stone.
They met in the cocktail lounge of an off-the-beaten-track restaurant. It was small and dimly lit, with only six empty stools and four tables, also empty. Glittering lights around the mirror behind the bar reflected in Mike’s brandy as he swirled it in its snifter and told Stone about his meeting with Stern.
Stone listened patiently, occasionally taking a sip of his scotch and soda. Mike finished talking, then bent forward with his arms on the bar, staring straight ahead.
Stone turned in his stool toward him. “I’m not one for giving advice on romance. But I do have an opinion if you want to hear it, although I think you already know what needs to be done.”
Mike nodded, still staring straight ahead. “Yeah. I’ve got to tell Jo.”
“I agree. It’s all you can do unless you want to give in to Stern—the low-life bitch.”
“I can’t give up, John. It’s just too damned important.”
The ice in Stone’s glass clinked as he swirled his drink with a swizzle stick. “Then you’ve got to level with Jo.”
“I know. But maybe I should think about it more. There might be a solution I haven’t thought of. I could locate Karina and talk her out of admitting we had the affair.”
Stone shook his head. “She might lie to you. Or she might agree not to and then change her mind. No, buddy. I think there’s no better solution than telling Josephine.” He put his hand on Mike’s forearm. “You’ll come to that conclusion eventually. So, you may as well do it now. Besides, Stern could use this against you again. You’ve got to diffuse this, or it’ll forever be the Sword of Damocles over your head.”
Mike rolled his head back and forth. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” He patted Stone’s shoulder. “Thanks, John.”
“My pleasure. Are you planning to tell Jo tonight?”
“Yeah. May as well get it over with.”
Stone got off the stool. “Okay. I hope I helped a little.”
“You always do. Thanks again. I appreciate it.”
Stone waved his hand. “Glad to do it. That’s what friends are for. If there’s anything else, just pick up the phone.”
“I’ll do that.”
On the way home, Mike considered how to tell Josephine, but realized that there was no good way. The affair had been a foolish thing, a tryst. She worked for Sacramento’s mayor, and he’d met her several times. She was astonishingly beautiful.
It began at a cocktail party. The chemistry was there at once, and both of them sensed it. They met the next night. That was the beginning. Her sensuality and sexual prowess enhanced his yearning for her. Each time they met, he could hardly wait to see her again. But eventually guilt overcame him. He had strong feelings for her but wasn’t in love, although he suspected she was. He’d never lied to her. She knew he was married, and he told her that their affair wouldn’t last forever. And he ended it as kindly as he could two months later.
He got home just before 6:00. His shoulders were slumped, and his arms hung limply as he walked into the kitchen, where Josephine was preparing dinner.
“Hi, Mike,” she said, then cocked her head. “You don’t look well. Not feeling good?”
“No,” he said weakly. “I’ve got to talk to you about something. Let’s sit in the living room.”
Her eyebrows narrowed. “What’s wrong, Mike? What’s going on?”
They walked into the living room. Mike went to the bar and poured a brandy. He turned to Josephine. “Want something?”
“From the way you’re acting, maybe I should. A brandy.”
He poured it and handed it to her as they sat on the couch. The room was lit only by the faint sunlight from the windows. Mike stared down at the floor and bent forward, elbows on his knees. Josephine took a sip of brandy but said nothing, just looked at him, her deep-brown eyes blinking rapidly.
He took a large gulp of brandy. “Jo, I did something a long time ago ….” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “I did something a long time ago. Something stupid and foolish.” He sat up straight but couldn’t face her. “And I’ve regretted it ever since. Never forgave myself.”
Josephine sat erect, staring at her husband. She took a sip of brandy, then put the glass on the coffee table. “The affair?”
Mike’s head snapped toward her, his face twisted in disbelief, as if a giant king cobra had appeared in front of him. “You knew?”
“A woman can tell. I sensed it right away. I just lived with it all these years.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
She looked away and swallowed hard. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m not sure. I think I wanted to let it play itself out. I didn’t want to confront you. I didn’t want it to break up our marriage. We had three girls to raise.”
Mike bowed his head. “It only lasted a few months, and there was no emotional connection between us. And it was sixteen years ago. I’ve never done anything like that again,” he said and raised his right hand. “I swear on my father’s grave. Never.”
Josephine squeezed her lips into her teeth and looked down.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said and reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I would never want to hurt you.” Mike put down his drink, then reached to put his arms around her.
Again, she pulled away. Tears ran down her cheeks. “It hurts, Mike. Even though it’s long over with, it still hurts hearing it now.”
“I’m sorry, Jo. I’ve never felt so rotten about anything in my life. Can you forgive me? Can we put this behind us?”
She wiped away the tears with her fingers. Then, she looked at him. “Why are you telling me this now?”
Mike sighed. “Blackmail. Stern found out. Said she’d let it out if I veto her immigration bill or didn’t obey the court order.”
“The conniving whore,” Josephine said. Even now, in her sadness and anger, she despised anyone who would do that to her husband.
“You’ve got to know I still love you, intensely,” he said. “Always have and always will. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make up for this. I swear to you.”
Josephine abruptly slapped him hard on his right cheek. “How could you do that?” she shouted and slapped him again. Then, she put her face in her hands and cried.
Mike just sat there at a loss for what to do or say. Finally, he took her hand. “We can still save our marriage. We can go to a counselor or something. We’ve got to try. We’ve been through so much together all these years. You know I love you and I know you still love me, even though you’re angry. We can make it work.”
“I’ve lived with it this long,” she said and stood, smoothing out her slacks. “I think I’m actually glad that it’s out in the open. Seems to soften the blow a little. I don’t have to deal with it quietly by myself anymore. But with everything else that’s going on … I mean, ignoring the court, the problem with Patti … it’s getting to be too much. And now, this.”
She shook her head and rubbed her temples. “I’ve got to be away from you. I’ve got to think and let this settle in my mind. I’m going to stay with my sister for a while and sort things out. Then, we’ll see what happens.”
She turned and went upstairs to pack. Mike called to her, but she ignored him.
After Josephine left, Mike poured another drink and sat in the dark. He was jittery and perspiring. Was she going to leave him after all these years? He felt as if some fate had designed the whole thing, that it was some kind of supernatural punishment for what he’d done. Who could know that defying the court would, in some twisted, convoluted way, lead to this? Would he have started this thing if he’d known it might lead to losing Josephine?
“You self-righteous foo
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