What I mean is they’re quite firm for her age, I think.”

“Does she shave her bush?”

“Whoa. Uh…no. She trims it.”

“Every day?”

“I think so.”

“What’s her natural hair color?”

“Same as her eyebrows.”

“Did you ever give her anal?”

“Anal? …Alison?” I laughed. “No way!”

“Does she pleasure herself at night?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you ever caught her doing it?”

“Once. A long time ago.”

“Did she use her hand, or—”

“She was lying on her back in the bathtub with her legs spread apart, straight up in the air. She was letting the water do the work.”

“You came up on her unannounced?”

“Exactly.”

“Was she embarrassed?”

“Mortified.”

“How’d she react?”

“She was furious.”

“With you?”

I nodded.

“That’s so typical. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” I said, wondering what she meant. How would she know what’s typical behavior for Alison? Or maybe she meant it was a typical reaction for a 40-year-old woman. Or a wife. Or…

“Is she loud in bed when you’re having sex?”

“Not these days.”

“What about before?”

I laughed. “She was pretty vocal.”

Nicki smiled. “Did she yell Fuck me! and stuff like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Imitate her.”

“For real?”

“Uh huh.”

I raised my voice an octave and started hollering, “Oh God! Oh…Oh YES! Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me! FUCK me! Oh…I’m…I’m cumming! Oh God! Oh, Oh my GOD!”

By then Nicki and I were laughing hysterically.

Then she said, “You’d do her every night if you could.”

“Probably.”

“She still rocks your world.”

“You think?”

“I know it for a fact.” She pointed to my crotch. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you excited to see me?”

“I’m definitely excited to see you.”

“And yet you chubbed up after describing your naked wife.”

“So it would appear. Is that okay?”

“It’s sad.”

“In what way?”

“You want her, but she’s fucking your insurance agent.”

“She’s…What?”

15.

“WHAT ARE YOU talking about?”

“Alison’s been having an affair with your insurance agent. I can’t remember his name.”

“Arthur Blass?”

“That’s it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certain.”

“How do you know?”

“Jessie told me.”

“She must be mistaken.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve got a copy of their texts.”

“Whose texts?”

“Arthur and Alison’s. You want to see them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Are you serious? My wife’s cheating on me?”

“Aren’t you about to do the same to her?”

Good point. “Yes. At least, I hope so.”

“That being the case, would you want her to know everything you and I have said today?”

“No.”

“Then I’m going to ask you to forget everything Alison’s doing with Arthur. I have copies of every text message they’ve ever exchanged, and I’ll show them to you right now if you really want to see them. But I hope you’ll resist the urge.”

“Why?”

“Because Alison’s my friend.”

I wanted to ask if Alison’s her friend, why would she have an affair with her husband, but that would certainly kill the mood. So I said, “I’ll respect your wishes.”

“Thank you, David. I’d also like you to promise not to confront her about it.”

“Why?”

“I just told you: she’s my friend. She’s always been good to me. I love her.”

Her words made so little sense I kept waiting for her to say “Just kidding.” But she wasn’t kidding. She’s just nuts.

Then she said, “I really do love your wife, David. Craving you has nothing to do with how I feel about her.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Is there anything else we need to say about her?”

“No.”

“In that case, I’d like you to leave the room, close the door behind you, and wait for me to open it.”

“Seriously?”

As I stood to leave she said, “I know this seems silly, but it’s symbolic. Like I said earlier, when you leave this room today we’ll never talk about Michael or Alison again. And when I let you in, from now on, everything’s gonna be about you and me.”

“Sounds great.”

I walked out the door, closed it behind me, and waited.