At last

I stand in the doorway and survey the room before finding an empty table in the adjacent bar. I ask the bartender to turn the TV to the game as I examine the menu. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to meet a too familiar face.

"You mind if I sit here?" He smiles while checking the score overhead.

"No problem." He plants himself in the seat to my left before I can answer. I try to remember if we have ever actually spoken, but I can only recall a few mumbled greetings and nods. I remember the face from the many pictures sitting everywhere. The one on the mantle had always been intriguing. I want to ask him about it; ask where it was taken, but I know I will never get the chance. My mind focuses on hot wings as the waiter hovers nearby. I order a basket along with a drink as I feel his eyes return to me.

"So, it's a small world."

"Smaller everyday." I wonder where this is headed while wondering if I should order something stronger to drink.

"You mind if I ask you a few questions?" He places his drink on the table and turns in my direction with an expression that is hard to discern. The whiskey breath attacks my face as I think of many such nights with my own father.

"You want some of my wings?" I grab the drink from the waiter's hand before they sit it down. I take a long drink while watching him. I remember her talking about his constant smile while deciding it is annoying.

"What, no, well sure, but that isn't what I want to discuss."

"I know, so shoot." My glass bangs against the table as I misjudge the distance when sitting it down. I shake my hand and wipe it on my napkin. The waiter strolls over and drops a pile of extra napkins. I think about the old Bounty commercials where Rhoda would clean up a similar mess with only one towel. As I grab the fourth napkin, I realize these are not Bounty.

"How long?" His eyes are now firmly locked on mine as if he is preparing to judge my answers.

"Didn't she tell you?" My eyes swing to the TV as a ball clears the fence. I try to concentrate on the TV while recalling how she told me that she had revealed everything. Of course, she only spoke up because she had been caught and I always assumed she only revealed what was necessary and nothing more. After all, this was how she handled me.

"She said a few things, but I want to know the truth." A slight frown crosses his face and he looks away, obviously reliving a part of his past. He turns back to me and the smile has returned.

"I'm not sure I am the right person for that." I am only joking, but the reality of the statement stings. After all, a lie is only bad when you know it is a lie.

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, why would you lie now?" She laughs and reaches over and pats me on the back. I wonder when we became such good buddies. Does fucking the same woman create some kind of bond among men?

"I thought we would've had this conversation a long time ago." I can't decide if the question is for me or anybody as his eyes glaze over once again. I take another long drink while forecasting the conversation and where it may lead. The many possibilities are entertaining, but I am tired and in no mood for games. I can't decide if he is right as she had only recently told me that she had resorted to lying about certain events - particularly about the things she and I had done together.

"Maybe, but here we are." He gestures toward the sparsely occupied room with his left hand while taking a drink with the other.

"Three years." The answer is flat as I watch another run cross the plate. I decide to give him one piece of blunt truth and be coy from that point forward. It'll make him feel like he has something and it should help avoid a fist fight.

"What?" He almost shouts as he leans closer for a confirmation.

"That is the answer, or my answer, to your question." The wings smell amazing as she slides the basket to the middle of the table along with two plates. I tell her we are fine. She disappears as I grab one and quickly drop it on my plate - they are hot. "Dig in."

"Three, really?" He doesn't acknowledge the food. His eyes fall to the floor as he mumbles my answer to himself. Obviously, my answer does not match the information he had previously attained.

"Yeah, ouch, these are hot." I pull apart the small piece of chicken and slowly chew while visually searching for the ranch dressing.

"Why?" His eyes rise to meet mine. He has lovely eyes.

"Because they just cooked them?" I purposely stall, because there is no harder question to answer than why. It is a purely subjective question that has no clear right or wrong answer. It is like a college essay, just present a well-thought out idea and back it up and you'll be okay. At this point, I no longer know or care, but I ponder what to tell him or what he wants to hear or furthermore what he has been told.

"You know what I mean." He slaps the table while trying too hard to make it seem like he is joking, but we both know he is angry. While I think anger is a good emotion in such situations, I am in no mood to fight or argue so it is serving no purpose for me in this scenario.

"Hey, what can I say, I am an opportunist and she's a great woman. There were feelings, but things got complicated and then, well then, you know what happened." A day without lunch left me starving. I grab another wing while trying to avoid his gaze.

"Did she ever talk about me?" He finally pulls a wing from the basket and slowly picks at it.

"Nope."

"Where?"

"Around."

"Can you be more specific?"

"We went all kinds of places." I hadn't noticed my lips being previously chapped as I feel them burning. I wonder if they are red. I spot the mirror along the wall behind the bar, but I'll have to stand to use it.

"Why are you being evasive?" He drops a half eaten wing on the plate and stares at me.

"Well, can I ask you questions as well?" I have a few things that have been crawling around my brain for quite some time, and now is the opportunity to let them out.

"No problem, what could you possibly want to ask me? Want to compare notes? You fucked my wife!"

"Okay, that is a given, so let's move on." The anger level has risen as I try to diffuse it. "So, did you know about the one before me?"

"What did you say?" The anger is sucked from his body as surprise takes its place.

"The guy before me, I was going to say first but who knows. Anyway, they worked together - or did work together." I am now watching his face turn and move as the information makes its way through the brain.

"No, I didn't know anything about anybody else. Are you sure? Are you making this up to take the pressure off of you?" The anger is trying to regain its foothold as he grasps at straws.

"Hey, I did what I did, and it all collapsed, so there is no pressure on this side. I have confirmed this story with a handful of others, so it seems to be true."

"Jesus Christ, I can't believe it. When? Where? Who?" The anger is back in full force, but I am no longer the target.

"More questions? Look, I don't know who it is or any answers to the other questions. I just know about it, general knowledge. I think you know somebody with intimate knowledge that may be able to help." I relax as the conversation has taken a surprising turn as his head rests on the table.

"Yeah, okay, you got me; I didn't know anything about it. I'll deal with her later, but you never did answer my questions."

"Look, I don't want to do this. There is no reason to do this. What purpose does this serve?" The napkin is suddenly orange as I wipe my hands and drain the drink. The waitress smiles as a refill appears and my unplanned guest asks for his check. I wave her away saying I'll cover it.

"Personal curiosity, I want to know. You owe me that. I deserve it." The few other people in the bar turn and watch us as his voice is suddenly too loud.

"Deserve ain't got nothing to do with it." I smile at the line from the Unforgiven. "Besides, have you told everybody about your own activities at the same time of my dealings?"

"What do you mean?" His voice is suddenly flat and concentrated as he waits for the next piece of information. I wish I had a camera to catch the look.

"You know what I mean, but I'll give you a clue. About midway though my dawdling, I passed you on the interstate and you were not alone - she was with you. It looked like more than a friendly lift, but I'm sure I am wrong."

"Interesting, you guys were following me? That is just great, fucking me over and spying on me, great to know." He shakes his head at me, at the table, and then at the world in general. He stands and runs his hands through the think hair on his head.

"Look, I never told anybody what I saw. So, if it was harmless or not, I don't care and nobody else knows about it. I just wanted to make a point." I smile while finishing off the final wing with irritation at the wings he barely touched but kept me from eating.

"Well played." He extends his hand and we shake. As he turns, he drops a twenty on the table and we nod our farewells. I know I'll never see him again, and I feel some satisfaction at having my questions answered but never actually answering his.

"Maybe so, never mind, forget about the whole thing. I'm sorry I bothered you." He stands and turns to leave.

"There is no need to apologize. Look, I'm really sorry about, about everything. It's just that you're asking for information that I am really trying to forget. None of it really matters to any of us anymore." I push back from the table and stand to meet his eyes. It suddenly hits me, how much he and I have in common. I want to comment on it, get his reaction, but the gulf between us is too much.

"Maybe you are right. Have a good one." He turns and disappears, a memory just like that won't be easily forgotten just like the rest of it. I nod and return to my date with the chicken. I eat as I watch another run cross the plate. My team is losing again.