Monkey Business

russ returns to the land of the loonies

9:30 p.m.

I’m about to ring the doorbell, when I stop myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. What am I doing here? She’s going to be able to tell. My face will be like a blackboard with my illicit affair written all over it in fluorescent-yellow chalk. If only it could be like in Superman: The Movie and I could fly backward around the world to turn back time.

Truth is, I’m not even sure if I want to erase the experience with Kimmy. I like knowing that a sexy woman like Kimmy wants me.

I should tell Sharon what happened.

It’s freezing out here. Stupid Canadian winter. I press the bell once, twice, softly as though I’m not sure if I want her to hear.

She must have been waiting for me, because right away I hear the click of the door unlocking.

The soft, silky, short brown hair, the big smile. The perfect earlobes. Sharon. “You’re back!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me hard on the mouth.

Guilt and sadness surge through me, like I’ve just stuck my finger in an electrical socket of pain. I love her, and I always have. What did I do? “I’m back,” I say, attempting to keep my voice afloat. Can she tell?

She kisses me deeply and presses her body against mine. Apparently, no, she can’t. And I can’t tell her. She’d kill me. I can only tell her if I’m willing to lose her, and I’m not. Her tongue feels soft and squishy, like a pillow. I push her up against the door, and I explore under her shirt. My hands feel at home, like Clark Kent returning to Smallville.

She pulls me inside and closes the door behind her.

Decision made. My fling with Kimmy is over.