The following Saturday night I drove down to Sarah and Dave's house about a dozen miles from my place. We had made the date over lunch a couple of days earlier but hadn't said anything else about it since. We hadn't kissed either. To be honest I was very nervous about the whole thing, unsure about how far I was willing to go with a guy, or even if I would be happy with him watching me with his wife. I really didn't know what to expect.Well, as it turned out, things couldn't have been better. A meal, a few drinks and then, after Sarah excused herself to go upstairs and shower, a good talk with Dave.What a lovely, easy-going guy. Devoted to his young wife - at 26, she was about five years younger than both of us - but up for some fun. Nothing wrong with their love life, but both keen to try something different."I like you, man - it'll be a laugh," he said. "Nobody's gonna be doing anything they're not up for." You coming up, boys?" called Sarah from the top of the stairs. God, that cute. This room would have made a great nursery.We drifted on in an uneasy peace for three more weeks. Mark told me he no longer took a cart when he golfed and walked the course instead. He said he did it to save money and get some exercise. I secretly thought his tummy was getting bigger instead of smaller but was wise enough not to say it. Because he walked, it took him longer to play and he was usually gone for about five hours. I think a lot of the time was spent at the Nineteenth Hole, the bar at the club. He’d have beer or liquor on his breath every time he came home. He almost always took a shower, saying he had to wash the sweat of his exercise off.I was in one of my flower beds when he came home. Chloe was a big time amateur gardener, and she was always sharing cuttings and seeds. She taught me how to plant and care for the flowers. I even had a little vegetable garden, three tomato plants, two squash, and two cucumber vines. I was inordinately proud when I picked my first.
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