Couples of South Pointe Lake

3. Garry

The NBA Finals championship game was a half-hour away, and Steve and his three buddies were strolling toward their scheduled destination where they intended to watch the tournament.  Their destination was Garry Meany’s home, situated at the southern end of South Pointe, on Rodeo Lane.  

South Pointe was a six-mile interconnecting stretch of suburban real-estate, populated with a majority of Victorian and Tudor-style ultra-modern mansions, complete with grass lawns front and back.  It was the sort of enclosed community where everybody knew who their neighbor was.  The kids were all familiar with each other and attended the same schools, birthday parties, and public outings.  The parents attended soccer games and PTA meetings and were just as nice and friendly as can be.  About one of a few things upsetting the community’s current equilibrium of the community’s ecosystem was a FOR SALE signboard standing on the driveway of the Rococo-style six-bedroom homestead on Sycamore Road that was previously occupied by the Alvarez family.  Jonathan Alvarez had been a part of the clique that included Steve and the rest of his buddies.  He had worked for a wholesale company.  His wife had been a civil servant, and they had three kids.  Like everyone else, they had been a pleasant couple and terrific company to spend time with.  It came as a surprise five months ago when Jonathan informed their friends during a going-away party he had organized that this would be their final stay in South Pointe, as he was been transferred to assume control of a company branch in the Northern Pacific.  The wives felt the loss more than their husbands.  Steve and the others congregated and wished them journey mercies.  Two weeks later, they woke up to find Jonathan and his brood gone; a moving company arrived to cart off their stuff.  A realtor arrived two days later and planted the FOR SALE sign on the vacant lot.  Ollie lived across the Alvarez’s home.  Every morning he came out of his front door to scoop up the morning newspaper, he would stare wistfully at the empty home and pretend to know what Jonathan and his wife were currently up to wherever they were.  It wasn’t as though they left any forwarding address or means of contacting them.  That made the separation harder to comprehend.  People come into your life, and just like that, they have to go sometimes.

Larry carried a champagne bottle, declaring that his favorite team, the Boston Celtics, were slated to come out victorious against the Lakers.  Shep staked a twenty Dollar bet that it would go the other way instead.  

They walked up Garry’s winding driveway like rowdy college boys when the front door opened, and Garry gave them a welcoming yell.  He looked just as prepared for the game as he wore his Lakers jersey outfit.  

“Glad to see the loser squad made it over,” he remarked.

“Only one loser here,” Shep came and hugged Garry.  “And he’s the one holding the champagne.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Laugh now, but you all will be crying your eyes out after,” said Larry, hugging his friend.  “What’s up, Garry?”

“Great as you can see, loser.  You see I’ve got my Lakers jersey on.  Your boys are in for a thrashing this afternoon.”

“We’ll see.  At least I brought the bottle.”

Garry turned to the rest of the gang.  “What’s up, Steve.  How are ya, Ollie?”

“Doing good,” Ollie slapped his shoulder.

Steve asked, “How’s everything, Garry?  Ellie won’t mind us taking over the den?”

“Nah, she’s got better things to do,” Garry led his friends into his home.  “Last time I saw her, she was out to do some yoga exercise with friends.  She knows you guys would be over.”

“Nothing spells naughty than when the wife’s away,” Ollie quipped.

Garry led them into the living room.  The center table was laden with two buckets filled with ice cubes, containing an assortment of drinks—beers, a bottle of red wine, and sodas.  There was a tray stacked with hamburgers, Thai sticky chicken fingers, and bags of nachos.  It was a regular buffet table to which the guys were all impressed.

“Man, you sure knew we were coming,” said Steve.

“This ain’t all of it,” Garry said.  “I’ve got pizza cooling off in the oven.  You guys make yourselves at home like you need me to tell you.”

“Mind sticking this in your fridge, Ger,” Larry passed the champagne to him.  “We’re still popping that later.”

“Only if your Boston boys get through the game,” Garry took the bottle from him then left the room.  “I’ll be right back, guys.”

Steve and his friends dug into the buffet spread.  Each man grabbed a plate and helped themselves to whatever caught their fancy.  This was part of their games ritual regarding whose turn it was to play host.  The next turn would go to Shep, and the others expected some drawbacks when that time comes.  The drawback won’t be from Shep, but rather his wife, Morgan.  She was an avid football lover like her husband, and apt to sit in with the guys whenever they came by to enjoy a game.  This didn’t often sit well with Shep, who preferred the guys having the house to themselves, but couldn’t deny his wife getting involved if she asked.  Larry never missed an opportunity to declare Shep as officially p***y-whipped.  The others did unwillingly concur, but never to their friend’s face.

The TV was live with sports announcers presenting highlights of previous games leading to the upcoming tournament.  Ollie and Larry argued over game stats while sipping beer.  Shep was helping himself to a plate of nachos and a hamburger.  

Things probably would have continued on its natural course had Steve’s not paid mind to Garry’s cell phone lying beside one of the buckets of ice containing beers, of which Steve had just helped himself to one.  He picked it up and saw the phone was on AirPlay mode.  Steve would have plenty of time to reflect on this exact moment.  He had intended to keep his friend’s phone out of the way so as not to spill any drink on it.  That’s what he reminded himself later after the deed was done—he merely wanted it out of the way.  Whatever might have possessed his hand to press the PLAY button, he never could fathom what or why.   Perhaps it was a tumultuous sort of fate that he and his buddies were bound to view what they saw next.  Maybe not at the time, but further down the road, it was evident they would have seen something.

Regardless of whatever assumptions might occur, what mattered was that Steve tapped on the right button, and the rest was history.

The sports channel flickered off the TV screen, and the others gave a simultaneous groan when it happened.  The screen came alive to the sight of a steady camera capturing two people—a man and woman, both of them naked—lying on a bed.  The undisclosed person manning the camera spoke to the couple, instructing them on what to do.  Steve was baffled and yet riveted by what he was watching, as did his friends. 

“What the f**k is this?” Larry blurted the question.

“Looks like someone’s private home movie,” Shep suggested.

“It’s Garry’s phone,” Steve answered for them.

Everyone dropped whatever else they were doing and watched.  It took a few seconds for it to dawn on them what they were witnessing. 

The couple on the bed consisted of a black man of athletic build and a blonde female with short-cropped hair; the woman sported an exotic tattoo behind her backside.  The couple sat cuddling.  The blonde woman wrapped her hands behind the man’s head as she then kissed him.  She looked so familiar to Steve, and at first he thought he was the only one who reasoned the same.  It came to him in a snap—they were watching Garry’s wife, Ellie.

Neither of them uttered a word at first.  They sat in stunned silence, staring at the screen.  It was Shep who broke the silence.

“Is that who I think it?”

Neither Steve nor the others answered—they didn’t have to—it was there on the screen for all to see.  Ellie and the black man fell back on the bed, locked in a tight embrace and still kissing.  The figure wielding the camera navigated around the other side to focus on them.  The walls were light blue.  There was a cheap-looking painting situated above the bed’s headboard.  The room’s curtains were drawn shut.  It was a hotel room they were in—it was bare of personal items and looked too immaculate to be the couple’s bedroom. 

The black man—Steve didn’t recognize him as someone he knew—squeezed and sucked Ellie’s t**s while she cooed and squirmed under him.  He then slid down her abdomen, stopping at her crotch.  Ellie beat her head side to side in lust and hissed as the black man ventured onto her p***y.  Ellie locked her legs over the man’s shoulders while still jerking against him.  

The undisclosed person filming the event, whom Steve and the others unquestionably assumed to be Garry, asked the question: “How does his tongue feel, honey?”

Ellie smiled sultrily at the camera and blew a kiss, then muttered:  “I can’t wait to have his c**k, darling.”

Laughter, then:  “You don’t wanna wait any longer for it, do you?”

“No . . . Uuhhh . . . you know I can’t,” Ellie purred.

Another round of laughter. “You’d better hurry on there, Simon.  Ellie wants that big c**k of yours right away.”

“Wait a minute,” Larry cut in, “should we be watching this?”

Neither of them had an answer to that.  Before anyone could think up a response, they heard a car honk its horn repeatedly outside.  Shep rushed to the window and saw a vehicle ease into the Meany’s driveway.  The door opened, and a middle-aged woman who looked far pretty for her age came down, slinging a handbag across her shoulder.  Shep gasped as he held his glasses from falling from his face.

“Guys, it’s Ellie,” he said.  “She’s just pulled into the driveway.”

“You’d better turn that thing off, Steve-O,” Ollie said.  “Garry’s gonna be here any minute.”

Steve was already on it even before he spoke.  He turned off the AirPlay mode that automatically stopped showing the porn flick, and the championship game resumed like it had never gone anywhere.  He dropped Garry’s phone from where he had picked it and ate a hamburger for his plate.  The others fell silent like everything was as it should.

The front door opened, and Ellie waltz into her home. 

As if it was timed prudence, Garry came out of a doorway into the vestibule to welcome his wife.

“Hi, darling,” he hugged and kissed her.  “How was your workout?”

Steve and his friends concentrated on watching the game while listening to them beyond the doorway.  Garry and Ellie came inside, and she looked just as surprised seeing them.  She had on a spandex outfit under the sports jacket she was wearing.  Ellie was a yoga instructor and fitness expert at a multinational gym.  She was a month shy of turning forty-four.  Her abs and calve muscles were taut and fully formed.  A magnificent contrast to Garry, who bore a portly profile, drank like a fish, and had a similar appetite when it comes to his diet.  One would expect a woman like Ellie to influence him toward cutting down on his habits.  Theirs seemed to be such an amicable understanding that worked well for each other.

“Has the games already begun?” Ellie inquired.  “Well, I’d better not get in you boys’ way then.  “Larry, please tell Blondie I’ll swing by later to get that cake recipe she promised me.  I should have gotten it from her already, but couldn’t find the time.”

“Sure, no problem, Ellie.  I’ll pass your message when I get home.”

“All right, thanks.”  She kissed her husband once more.  “I’d better go freshen up while I leave you boys to yourselves.”

“Sure thing, darl.”  

Garry patted her backside before letting her go.  He came and plopped down beside Steve and grabbed himself a beer out of the bowl.  Unbeknownst the Garry, his friends were watching him tensely.  He appeared oblivious to what had transpired only minutes ago.  In a way, they felt individually relieved.

“I threw the champagne into the freezer down in the basement, Larry.  It shouldn’t take too long for it to get cold.  Hope I haven’t missed anything.”

“No, you sure haven’t,” Steve answered for the rest of his friends.

*             *          *

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” Steve murmured.  He didn’t realize at first that he was back at the gazebo with his friends, or that he had spoken aloud while his thoughts were racing to catch up from where he had left it a few hours in the past.

“What was that you said, Steve?”

Steve looked at Shep, who had thrown the question at him, then at the others.  He looked perplexed that they were anxiously waiting to hear what he had to say.  He drank his beer, letting the liquor build up his courage for what he had to say.

“There’s nothing we can do about it.  It just ain’t our business to do anything about it.”

“You’re saying we shouldn’t confront him about it?” asked Larry.

“It’s his private business,” Steve said.  “If anything, we’re the ones putting our noses into stuff that don’t concern us.  If I hadn’t touched his phone, would we ever have been any wiser to what we saw?”

“We might not have now,” Larry stubbornly countered.  “But chances are we would have down the road.  This is Garry we’re talking about here.  You know how he is when it comes to keeping secrets.”

“Yeah, barely.”

“Makes you wonder if he left his phone there because he sort of wanted us to see it,” Shep speculated.

“Come on, guys,” Larry continued.  “Sure, Garry talks awful sometimes, but who would have thought he’d be flippant about something like this, except he isn’t?  How come neither of us knew about this till today?” he turned to Shep as if wanting to blame him for this mishap.  “You hang out with Garry often, Shep.  You knew anything of this until today?”

Shep looked somewhat embarrassed when his friends switched their gaze at him.  He fidgeted nervously and reached for the box of Oreo cookies.

“Garry hasn’t ever mentioned anything of this to me ever before.  Trust me.  If he had, I’d have remembered.  And I’d have mentioned it to you guys.”

“Might as well strike that out of something Garry’s never told either of us,” Ollie said.

“Or maybe Ellie twisted his balls and warned him not to squeal,” Larry meekly suggested.  “I’m just saying.”

“The point is this isn’t something that seriously concerns us,” Steve affirmed, drawing them back to their main conversation.  “Whatever type of kinky fetish they’re running, it’s got nothing to do about us questioning him about it.  I think we should play ignorant for now and pretend we saw nothing today.”

Him mentioning that didn’t sit well with the others.  Steve read it in their face; even he didn’t believe it either.

“That was what I told the guys,” Steve told his wife, Angie, as they sat on the long sofa that evening with their feet resting on the table.  They were watching a Netflix movie while munching on a bowl of popcorn.  “I told them that it’s got nothing to do with us, so it’s best we leave it alone.”

Angie listened to him while keeping her eyes on the movie.  She scooped popcorn into her mouth.  Steve looked at her and knew she was intuitively combing through his argument as only a lawyer would, which she was.  Her hair was mouse-colored; her face was slender with high cheekbones.  She had modeled during her college days and still retained a statuesque figure.  Now she was a corporate lawyer and a loving housewife to Steve.

Steve waited till he couldn’t contain his patience.  “You disagree?”

“No, honey, I don’t.  I think it was the right thing that you said.  Whatever weird, kinky fun that Garry and Ellie are having, as long as it’s harming nobody, then you guys have no right poking into their affairs.  It won’t be fair if someone did that to us either.”

It felt good hearing her say that, but Steve knew his wife long enough and sensed a catch somewhere.  “Except?”

“Except you and I know that’s not how this is going to end, don’t we?”

“The guys out a credible argument,” Steve said.  “They’re curious and want to know how long Garry and Ellie have been acting this out.  If really we should be worried about things getting out of hand.”

“But honey, if you hadn’t played that video, neither of you would have cared.”

“That’s because we wouldn’t have known.  But now the cat’s out of the bag, you think we should bring the matter up with Garry?”

“Exactly what I meant when I say we both know how thing is going to end.  You’re going to confront him about it, or someone will.  I’ll bet it’s Larry urging you to do this, right?.  He’s always the nosy sort, and he loves a challenge.”

“I can’t help admit that I’ll kinda curious too.  Same goes with Shep and Ollie.”

“What more could you guys possibly want to know?” Angie asked the question as if accusing him of spying on his friend.  “You want to know how many times they f**k, and if they’re entertaining someone right now?”

“Listening to the way you mention it . . . ”

“It’s none of our business if they’re swingers, honey.  None at all.  But I can understand your curiosity—you men always are.”

“Or maybe it would be best if you got to inquire from Ellie.”

Angie slapped his arm and chuckled.  “Really, darling?  That’s quite a reach.  And how would you want that I present her the question: ‘Hi Ellie.  Sorry, but I’m wondering, have you and Garry been into some kinky s*x involving other men in your bedroom?  My husband and his friends would sure love to know.’”

“Think that might work?”

“I don’t know, because I’m never going to try it.  That’s not the sort of thing you bring up between friends.  Besides, you’re already thinking of doing it.”

“Come on, Ang.  I didn’t say that I was going to poke my nose into Garry’s affair.”

“No, you didn’t.  But listening to you talk about it tells me you will.”

Steve couldn’t think of anything to counter his wife’s statement—she knew him too well not to fight against her intuitive prowess.  He fell silent, and they resumed watching the movie and eating popcorn as though no argument had occurred at all.