Susan Donovan - Public Displays Of Affection

She groaned and was about to put an end to the whole sorry business when the man stopped. He pulled his hands out of the gloves, tossed them on the pool deck, then shook his sweaty hair. He reached around, grabbed a water bottle, and playfully tossed it up over his head.

That's the moment he turned toward her, snagging the plastic bottle in midair. She saw his face.

Charlotte's legs didn't hold.

Bonnie remembered the last time Charlotte told her to come over and bring a spiral cut ham. It was the night Kurt died. But he'd died at five-thirty on a Tuesday, so the HoneyBaked Ham store at the mall was still open. It was almost ten tonight. And the closest thing she and Ned had to ham was a half-pound of smoked turkey breast from the Kroger deli case.

She poked her head in the family room double doors and was greeted by a snarling Hoover,

"Hey, Hoov." Bonnie tore off a piece of turkey breast and the dog trotted happily away.

It took a moment before she located Charlotte. She was sitting cross-legged on the family room rug, wearing her blue and yellow scout leader uniform, her face pale bid her gray eyes far too bright.

"Did you bring it?" Charlotte swiveled her head and Bonnie watched most of her hair slip out of her ponytail.

Bonnie held up the Baggie and tried to smile. 'Turkey, sweetheart. It's all we had. Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Bonnie put the Baggie on the table, next to the Triscuits and squirt cheese, and figured it had been a rough evening at the Tasker house. Ever since Kurt died, Charlotte had gone overboard with the health food thing, grabbing onto something she could control in a world that had proven itself unpredictable. Bonnie didn't blame her. But she also knew that ham and squirt cheese were Charlotte's drugs of choice and if she had a craving for both, she'd hit rock bottom. This was going to be a long night

"Want to join me at the grown-up table?"

Charlotte laughed a little, which relieved Bonnie-because she looked like a zombie.

"How long have I known you, Bon?"

"Hmm." Bonnie draped an arm over the kitchen chair. "Twelve years, I guess."

"And we've never really talked about sex, have we?" Charlotte reached behind her and pulled out the ponytail holder, letting her straight reddish-gold hair fall to her shoulders. She glared at Bonnie in challenge.

"Uh, no. Not much."

"Do you know why?"

Bonnie let her eyes dart around the room. She was waiting for the punch line. "Noooo. Why?"

"Because I've got a whopper of a secret."

Bonnie jumped to her feet. "How about I make us some tea?"

"I'll have scotch, neat"

She stopped in midstride. "You don't drink."

"I do tonight, sister." Charlotte pushed herself up from the floor and passed Bonnie on her way to the dining room sideboard. She came back with a bottle of Glenlivet and two shot glasses. "And so do you, if you know what's good for you. Come on."

Bonnie followed her into the rarely used living room, thinking, Charlotte's going to tell me she's a lesbian and she wants to do it in the formal living room.

"Don't worry. I'm not a lesbian." Charlotte plopped down on the sofa cushions, then poured. "I hope this booze is still good. Somebody brought it to the house after the funeral. Here."

Bonnie wasn't sure what toast would be appropriate for the occasion, so she said, "Bottoms up?" then slammed it back.

Charlotte did the same and began thumping her chest, gasping. "That stuff's poison," she choked out. "I'm going to have to pace myself."

Bonnie studied Charlotte as she sank back into the sofa and closed her eyes. She loved this young woman like a daughter. She loved Charlotte's children, and she'd loved Kurt. And over the years the two women had shared everything-childhood traumas, political beliefs, parenting philosophies, thoughts on organized religion, God, death, and the afterlife.

But Charlotte was right. They'd never really talked about sex.

Bonnie learned early on that it was not a topic Charlotte felt comfortable discussing, and she'd assumed it had to do with the difference in their ages. For Charlotte it would have been like talking about sex with her mother. Besides, how many stories had Charlotte told about growing up the daughter of strict Baptists? Bonnie just figured the subject was taboo.

But here was Charlotte tonight, drinking scotch in her scout leader uniform, asking for ham, and apparently getting ready to let it all hang out, as she and Ned used to say.

"Is this about Kurt, honey?" Bonnie asked as gently as possible. "Did you find out he had an affair?"

Charlotte let her head rock back and forth against the couch, not bothering to open her eyes. "No; Extremely unlikely."

"Did you have one?"

Charlotte let loose with a bitter laugh and sat up straight, now fully alert.

"Not technically."

"I'm not sure I follow"

Charlotte poured them each another shot and got herself comfortable. She sipped. "What I'm going to tell you has to stay between just the two of us. I've never told anyone-" She impatiently swiped away a tear. "But if I don't talk to somebody, I'm just going to explode!"

Bonnie grabbed Charlotte's hand. "I won't breathe a word to another soul and I'll help any way I can." She cupped Charlotte's frightened face. "Honey, whatever it is, it's going to be all right."

Charlotte nodded

"And you know you can tell me anything."

Charlotte struggled with a deep breath and set her shoulders straight. "It's the man next door, Bon. The Chippendales guy-Joseph Mills."

Bonnie reared back, staring at her friend, her mouth ajar. "You mean you did the nasty with the new neighbor already-in your scout leader uniform?"

"What? God, no!" Charlotte shot up from the couch and began to pace in front of the fireplace, pulling on hunks of her hair, eyelids squeezed tight

"Then…?"

"I know him!" Charlotte's eyes popped open, and they were terror-stricken. "I know this Joseph Mills person!"

"Oh. Well, that's nice-"

"Nice?" Charlotte's mouth fell open, then snapped shut. "I had head-banging, mind-blowing, totally anonymous sex with that man thirteen years ago! And I'm talking minutes before Kurt proposed to me! Do you hear what I'm saying, Bonnie? He popped my cherry while Kurt was waiting to pop the question!"

"Oh. Oh, dear," Bonnie managed.

"And Kurt thought I was a virgin when we got married. It was really important to him. But I lied , Bonnie! I had sex with this guy in the weeds! Three times! And he was… oh, my God … nothing has ever been right since!"

Charlotte swayed, her arms hanging at her sides, the scotch spilling onto the carpet. She looked like she might faint. She began to sob.

Bonnie jumped up and grabbed her by the upper arms. "Charlotte. Look at me. Tell me right now-did he hurt you? My God, honey-did he attack you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Charlotte shook her head and the tears slipped down her cheeks. She looked away briefly, then steeled herself. "Actually, Bon," she whispered, a look of pleading in her eyes, "I think I may have attacked him ."

Her name was Charlotte.

Charlotte Mary Nelson Tasker was a thirty-five-year-old registered nurse who ran an errand service. She had two kids. She was a widow.

Joe blinked, skimming the computer file one last time, rereading the obituary for the man who'd been her husband. Kurt Lewis Tasker was a local boy, an All-State lineman who became a popular sports columnist for the Cincinnati Enquirer , apparently known for his straight talk and good humor. He left work early one Thursday with what he thought was a touch of the flu. He dropped dead a few hours later from a congenital heart defect no one knew he had.