Allan Chase - The straying wife

Kim had fallen into bed, drowsy, sleepily amused that Nichole had decided to take over in her life, vaguely pleased that somebody cared enough to say so and take an interest in her welfare.

Waking the next morning and realizing that, in an hour, Nichole would be around to pick her up and that she was going to spend a weekend in lovely San Francisco, she shrugged. Why not? Perhaps the other girl was right. Maybe she did need a change! Kim dressed and packed quickly. "Travel light," Nichole had said, "that's my motto: travel light and wear sexy underwear."

She looked forward to the weekend despite Nichole's old habit of being just a bit too rough and sexual in her talk. Somehow, the brunette always brought the conversation around to men and sex. She really didn't mind, dismissing it as Nichole's way and need for attention. She didn't really think anything was meant by it.

Nichole was right on time, arriving in a new Mustang convertible. They drove up U.S. 1, Kim taking in the coastal scenery as they drove. Then, like a jewel, a thrill no matter how many times you've seen it, came the Apple, The Big Apple, San Francisco! The city, a combination of stately old homes and gracious living; the city, a curious blend of European comfort and old frontier make-do. The city of the Barbery Coast and China Town, North Beach and the Mission district, Nob Hill and Haight-Ashbury, The Panhandle and the financial district.

It retains some of its bawdy, lusty, goldrush past. It is the original home of the topless and bottomless, of the porny movies and live sex shows. It is a sin-drenched city and it is a graceful entity to good living – the De Young Museum, The Palace of The Legion of Honor, and the opera. It has its ballet and art exhibits. It is the home of the 1950's Beats – Beatniks and the poetry movement of North Beach. It is a melting pot for east and west, and has always been drug-oriented because of Chinatown and the opium trade and wars that flourished as far back as the nineties.

San Francisco is, as connoisseurs of female flesh are quick to point out, a city full of extremely beautiful girls. To this already happy horde were added two more: Nichole and Kim. They arrived in the afternoon. Nichole's apartment was all that she said it was – and more. It was spacious and Kim would have a bedroom of her own. The sensual looking brunette mixed drinks right away, then told Kim to wander around and make herself at home, while she made some phone calls.

Kim moved around the expensive apartment, admiring the furniture and paintings, only half-listening to Nichole. Suddenly, she was listening hard. "That's right. Her name is Kim Stewart, and she's a real knockout. Yeah. Yeah. Relax, she's married. That's right, I said married. Be here about six."

Nichole hung up and waved a depreciating hand at Kim's wondering stare. "Relax! All I'm doing is lining up dates for us. Escorts. Listen, it's easier with an escort. Lots of places we couldn't go if it wasn't for escorts. Besides, they know you're married, and all they're doing is acting as an escort. God, Kim," Nichole frowned, "sometimes you're an old maid."

The words stung. Kim tried not to show it. All she had done was direct a questioning frown at Nichole. Could the brunette be right? Wasn't she, after all, leaping to conclusions? Wasn't Nichole doing nothing more than being thoughtful by providing her with am escort? Maybe she was getting to be an old maid. Maybe she missed Hank too much and felt a vulnerability in the big city. But that feeling of dread was on her again! It stayed with her the rest of the afternoon. They lunched in a smart place on Union Street, and Nichole seemed possessed of a wooden leg, belting one Scotch on the rocks down after another. Back at the apartment, she mixed even more drinks while they awaited their "escorts".

Kim was feeling no pain by the time the two men got there, yet that feeling of impending doom took an immediate surge when Nichole said, "Kim, I want you to meet Klaus. And this big one here is Ernie. Gentlemen, this is Mrs. Kim Stewart."

They were polite enough and well-dressed. Klaus had a slight accent and a look that she didn't like. Ernie was rougher, bigger, quieter, and tough with a cynical smile below his broken nose. Klaus introduced himself somewhat formally, saying he was in "Transportation. Ernie there is in security." Kim got the distinct impression that Ernie was a private detective or had something to do with plainclothes work for the police.

They sat around and chatted about the coming evening. Right before the doorbell rang, Nichole had given Kim a pep talk, telling her not to let it all hang out, but to try and concentrate on other things and just have a good time… going out on the town for a change and having a ball. Now, the red-haired housewife sat, trying to appear gay and sophisticated to Klaus.

"Ve vill show you the sights, North Beach and the topless-bottomless clubs."

"Klaus," Nichole cut in, "maybe I didn't tell you on the phone, but, well…"

Her words died in the air and they all looked at one another. That is, except for Kim who felt embarrassed because no one looked at her.

"Vell, vhat?" Klaus asked, hissing the S out.

"Well… I don't think Kim… I don't know if she's ready for that."

"Ready?" Klaus looked at Kim in mock amazement. "Ready? My dear Nichole, I must say you can be condescending when you wish to be. What you're saying is that Mrs. Stewart, a mature, married, and, I must say attractive, female isn't 'ready' to see a naked woman dance on a stage. You make it sound like she's not quite old enough, or hasn't had enough experience to see something so risque, is that it? Or," he added teasingly, "perhaps it is beneath her?"

"No!" Kim was surprised how quickly she interrupted. "No, that isn't it at all."

"No?" Klaus looked superior. "Then perhaps it's too much for Nichole. Perhaps she is using you to hide behind."

Nichole and Ernie both erupted in raucous laughter. Kim joined in self consciously, playing the role of the big city sophisticate even though she didn't like it. No matter what, she had her pride, and she wasn't going to let them be patronizing to her. Cannel was a small town in population only. Down on the peninsula, they were as sophisticated as anyone. "No," she said, pretending to be worldly. "As a matter of fact, I'm dying to see one."

"You sure?"

Nichole asked the words with such obvious condescension, asking the question as if Kim were five years old. Anger flushed in her. No matter what, she didn't like being made fun of. No one did! The red-haired wife's back stiffened. "Of course. Can we go now and not waste time?"

Klaus glanced at his watch. "Yes, I think we can catch an earlier show."

Ernie grinned at her. "We're just being friendly. Don't want to scare you."

"Don't worry," Kim said, flirting a bit with Ernie and enjoying her audacity. "I've been around a bit."

Klaus, Ernie, and Nichole exchanged a smiling look that annoyed Kim, for she didn't share in whatever confidence they were exchanging. Finally, Klaus said, "Shouldn't we get prepared for the event?"

"Fine with me," Ernie said, getting a flat cigarette case out.

Kim's back bristled. Perhaps she was all wrong, but she thought she knew what was going to happen. She couldn't speak as she watched Ernie carefully take a thin, dark brown cigarette out of his case and carefully hand it to Klaus who sniffed it, smiled, and just as carefully handed it to Kim. "Very good," he growled.

Kim held it like it was a bomb and passed is to Nichole with a pasty smile on her face. Nichole leaned to her, her voice lowered. "This is hashish. The very finest. Have you ever bad any?"

Numbly, Kim shook her head. She knew what marijuana was, but wasn't sure what hashish was. Whatever it was, she didn't want any. "Just take a few drags of it, and if you don't like it, stop."