Chapter 4

There hadn't been any tears yet. He was still in shock, and the heartbreak of his discovery had not yet overcome his protective shell. What he had seen was beyond his understanding. There was nothing in the twenty years that he had known Jeanette that would have even hinted at this kind of behavior. What she likely wouldn't understand was the impact of her discovery on their lives, and in particular, his business life.

He was the natural successor to Lloyd Bruton when Lloyd moved up the ladder another notch. That was expected in the next year. He would become the Sales Manager of Mountain Pine Paper and it would have been the crowning moment of a long, hard climb. Now, he knew that couldn't happen. The men he was expected to lead had seen his humiliation. They had seen his sickened expression when he saw his wife on that stage. They would always know, always remember that moment. All of his hopes had been blown away in those few seconds.

He would resign. It was the only decent thing to do. He knew Lloyd and Henry's expectations. They wouldn't tolerate improper behavior from their employees. They held a high standard for their people, and now he had crossed the line. It wasn't his actions, of course, but the actions of the wife were, by transference, the actions of the husband. It was a straightforward code, and he understood and endorsed it over his eight years at Mountain Pine. The emptiness of the moment was overpowering. He had friends that had only been acquired because he worked at Mountain Pine. His reputation was enhanced merely by being an employee. He wondered which of them would still be called friends when the word got out.

He checked into a small motel in the valley that wasn't far from home, but no one he knew would think to look for him here. He didn't unpack except for his toiletries, and he plopped the suitcase on the luggage stand in the corner and flopped down on the bed. He couldn't get the image out of his mind. His wife, standing above him, not yet naked, but she inevitably would be. He knew it was Jeanette, but the look on her face was like none he had ever seen before. Her eyes were alive and it appeared that she was enjoying herself. How could she?

He had no appetite that evening. The sour taste of bile from his earlier eruption was still with him. He walked outside to the soft drink machine and purchased a soda and went back to his room. He switched on the TV and surfed through the channels before settling on a baseball game. It required no involvement on his part and he could pay attention or ignore it without missing anything. He couldn't get his mind off the images and his thoughts of the consequences of what he had seen. He tried to reason what his options were, but he couldn't complete anything. It was a jumble of thoughts without a linear progression.