Chapter 12

Indian summer was just about over. From here on, the days were going to turn progressively colder and rainier. The backyard was warm in the glow of the sun, but when the shadows began to lengthen, it would be too cool for the shirtsleeves Brad wore this evening.

He was keeping an eye on his daughters and three of the neighborhood kids as they laughed and played in the grassy backyard. Brad couldn't get over how quickly Cindy and Cathy were growing up. They weren't toddlers any more; their legs had grown so long they looked like colts racing from one corner of the yard to the other. He shook his head in disbelief they had so much energy left over at the end of the day to be playing this hard. He couldn't remember ever having that much.

When he heard the car pull into the driveway, he reached pulled a wine cooler out of the bucket of ice on the patio table and twisted the cap off. When Ashley came through the kitchen and opened the big sliding door leading out here, she took the cooler from him gratefully.

"Mmmmmmmmm," she sighed. "That really hits the spot... thanks honey," she said. She stepped close to Brad and lifted her face for a kiss. The kids rounded a corner that had hidden Ashley from them. Her daughters, and one little girl from across the street who considered Ashley her Aunt, ran to engulf Ashley with hugs and kisses.

When the greetings were over and the children sent back out into the sunny part of the yard, Ashley sighed again, kicked her high heels off, and stretched out on a lounger.

"Chicken and corn-on-the-cob's on the barbeque, tater salad's in the fridge and I got some baked beans simmering on the stove," Brad announced. We should be eating in about half an hour... I think Ronnie's going to be joining us but I'm not certain." Ronnie... Veronica... from across the street was a frequent visitor and Ashley's "niece."

"Sounds wonderful," Ashley said, closing her eyes and resting quietly for a bit. "You should take more time off," she said at length.

Brad nodded his agreement. The forecast had been so good for today he'd called in to take some personal time. It was something he did every so often these days.

"I think I will," he said, realizing his wife's eyes were still closed. She wouldn't have seen his nod.

"I went to lunch with Margaret today," Ashley announced in a neutral tone. Brad snorted.

"How is the beautiful and gracious Margie?" he asked. "She still want me to get her with child?"

"Yeah... right," Ashley answered sardonically. "That'll be the day."

"Uh huh," Brad agreed, "the old biddy," he said scathingly. Margaret... Margie... was not one of his favorite people, and he was not one of hers.

"She's not that bad," Ashley remarked.

"Bull... Margaret is a fanatic feminist who thinks it's a case of rape every time a man makes love to his wife," Brad declared. "Fortunately... she's too darn ugly to ever have to experience that kind of rape personally," he added.

"Darn, Bradley," Ashley said, "and she speaks so highly of you." Ashley made sure her husband caught the ironic note.

Brad snorted.

Ashley didn't continue for a time. "Well, Margaret has her faults... but she can be helpful at times."

"Okay..." Brad replied after a long pause. "So you're using her as a "Dutch Uncle? Uh huh... I thought so. Well... I suppose she can be... helpful for that." He opened the grill to turn the chicken quarters and the half-dozen ears of corn over.

"So what did you and Margaret decide about the male portion of the human race... or was it just me you were talking about?" Brad asked.

"Just you," Ashley replied matter-of-factly.

"K," he said. He waited.

"It's been something on my mind for a while, but I think I've just about figured out how much you've manipulated me over the last... I don't know how long. Margaret helped me... bring it into focus," Ashley remarked dispassionately. She might have been commenting on the weather.

"Uh huh," Brad said, checking the level on the propane tank. "So... with her incredible insight into the human condition," he said sarcastically, "how did Margaret feel about how you've manipulated me?"

Ashley's eyes snapped open. "What?"

Brad used the long BBQ tongs in his hand to motion out into the yard. "Ash, you brought those young ladies with us on our third date to make it clear you and they were a "package" deal."

Brad poked at the chicken breast with the tongs. Ashley was looking at her husband with a small frown on her face.

"Oh, you might not have done it consciously," Brad continued, "but you knew damned good and well I was already so much in love with you I'd have agreed to you bringing along your Mom and Dad, all your brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, and all their dogs and cats too into the marriage." He snorted.

"And I think you had it pretty well figured your babies were so starved for some kind of father figure they'd latch on to me in a heartbeat," Brad said. "You were right... and that time... when Cathy came over to where I was sitting on the couch... she wasn't even walking real well yet... but when she made it, she leaned against my knee and held up her arms for me to pick her up." He stopped for a second to savor the memory. "Anyway, after she did that... and that first time Cindy looked up at me from her crib and smiled like an angel at me... hell, I was lost, and I knew it.

"So... don't tell me you haven't manipulated me, Ashley, my dear." Brad remarked. "I knew what was happening, I cooperated all the way down the line... but that doesn't change anything."

"And after Dallas... ? You told me several times how much you and they loved me," Brad added, cutting Ashley off when she was about to say something. "First few months after Dallas, you pushed me and them together as often as you could manage... not that I minded... but I saw what you were doing. That was manipulation with a capital "M."

"When we started talking about me adopting them... so there wouldn't be any embarrassment at their names when they were registered at school... wasn't that what you said at first? Well, I watched you maneuver me around to get what you wanted then too, Ash."

"So you're saying you wish you hadn't gone through with it?" Ashley asked huskily.

"On the contrary," Brad said briskly, "it was one of the proudest days of my young life when we came out of that hearing room... right up there with marrying you in the first place. Doesn't change the fact that you wanted something from me, you figured I'd balk, and you set about to get things your own way. The fact that I wanted to be their father too... so bad I couldn't see straight... was just lucky. In the end, everyone got what they wanted," he finished.

Ashley looked at him uncertainly.

"No, you don't have to be concerned about anything," Brad assured her. "I love Cindy and Cathy so much it hurts sometimes... and that's never going to change... period."

"Okay... well, I..."

She halted in confusion.

Brad smiled wryly. "Sorry, Ash... I'll stuff my defensiveness back into its hole and lock the lid down on it, okay? I only meant to make a small point. I didn't mean to totally deflect you from what you were about to say... forgive me?"

Ashley nodded distractedly. She was still thinking about what he'd said.

"Right after I found out you were lying to me about your relationship with Glenna Hartford," Brad remarked.

Ashley winced. Any reference to swinging or any of the swingers they knew brought on that reaction these days.

"What?" she asked.

"You were wondering how long I've been "manipulating" you," Brad explained. "It was right after that I realized how deep a hold that swinging culture had on you and I started thinking of some way to get you to see the light.

"What kicked it off was the funny way you were acting for a while... and then Glenna called the house, by mistake I learned, you lied about her... and... well, then we were off to the races."

"I... how did you find out she called our home phone by mistake?" Ashley asked faintly.

"Read your email to her," Brad told her shortly, poking at the chicken again. "I put a program on the computer that recorded every keystroke you made while you were online... that gave me your password on that Yahoo account and the instant messaging too... and I started finding out things I actually didn't suspect you of at the time."

"You were spying on me?" Ashley asked with an edge in her voice.

"Some people need to be spied on," Brad answered coolly. He wasn't the least apologetic in tone or expression.

"Tell ya what," he continued. "Spy on me. I invite you to do exactly that... watch me like a hawk," he said.

"You won't find a damned thing," he said, "not because I'm that good at hiding things, but because I'm not doing anything I wouldn't do with you standing at my shoulder," he told his wife.

Ashley lay on the chaise lounge and watched her husband. Margaret had urged Ashley to divorce Brad or file some kind of action in court but Ashley had rejected that suggestion without even thinking about it.

On the other hand, Ashley had anticipated she'd have the upper hand in this conversation, but it wasn't turning out that way at all. She was glad she hadn't come home angry and on a mission to set her husband straight.

"So... anyway," Brad continued, "I found out you'd been using your cell phone to talk to Glenna months before she called the house. You lied to me about that when I asked you who she was that evening she called. I figured she was some woman fronting for a lover you'd connected with somehow... I thought you were telling me his name was Dean for a while... but I accidentally found out about the swinger websites you were visiting just a couple of days later and everything got pretty clear."

"I... I... oh, damn," Ashley said wearily. "I won't ever get out from under this, will I?"

"Not as long as you try to skirt the truth, Ash... by keeping something from me or actively trying to tell me day is night," Brad said quickly. This had bothered him for a long time.

Ashley watched him pensively. She swallowed.

"Do you remember me telling you... right after... right after Dallas," she said delicately, "I said to you I'd been married twice before I met you, but I didn't know much about how to make a marriage work?" Brad nodded.

"Well..." Ashley continued, "about the only thing I did learn from those marriages was that I had to keep certain things from my husband in order to get along with them... I don't know if you can understand that... but it was what I believed had to be done. I know it's wrong now... I just haven't turned that around yet, not as much as I need to. I... I want you to understand I'm trying," she added.

"I know," Brad said, turning the barbeque fire down lower. "I've seen it, and I'm beginning to feel the trust coming back," he added.

Ashley nodded. She wet her lips. "Is... there anything you don't know about that time... with Glenna and the Internet and stuff?"

Brad shrugged. "I don't know," he said carelessly, "you'll have to tell me someday.

"Anyway, once I figured out what was going on, I pulled the keylogger off the computer and stopped reading your email and stuff. I even quit recording your conversations with Glenna when y'all met for lunch. Once I heard you tell her you'd never cheat on me... heck, I stopped everything," he said.

Ashley gasped. "You even knew what we were talking about in person?"

"Yep," Brad said matter-of-factly. "Both our names are on each other's car title and that gives me a legal right to put a recorder... oh... say taped on the underside of the driver's seat with some good old duct tape or something.

"But, like I said, I quit doing all that once I figured out you weren't cheating on me... well, at least not with a lover," Brad remarked.

"I wish you'd stop saying that word... cheat," Ashley said weakly.

"You were deceiving me, keeping parts of your life secret, you had an email account specifically dedicated to living vicariously as a swinger through Glenna and the Internet. Your fascination with the "lifestyle" was affecting our marriage, our love life, and just about everything else in our lives," Brad explained. "What part of "cheating" is not included in all that?"

He waved his hand irritably. "Look, we can do this from another angle," he said. "Let me put it this way." He took a deep breath.