For a moment my muttering's trailed off as my alcohol numbed mind registered the fact that someone had put their arm about my shoulders. It took a moment before my eyes focused, though somewhat blurringly, on the face of my old friend Frank. I could see his mouth moving but his words didn't immediately register as my brain was still seeking vainly for the answer as to how long my wife had been cheating on me.

Had my loving wife only recently become unfaithful or had she been cheating on me from day one. If she had been cheating on me for months why then had it taken me till only recently to realize it. Was I such a lovesick fool that I couldn't see the forest for the trees. But even as those thoughts rattled about in my brain Franks words wedged into my consciousness.

What's that Frank? You want to know what's bothering me! Yea like you don't know, right buddy. My best friend, my good buddy and you haven't noticed my wife's carrying on. I suppose next your going to tell me that you haven't seen her sashaying around in shit that would make a two bit whore blush. Yea like I really believe that Frank.

Oh those changes, and you whole heartily approve. Well thats real white of you mother fucker. Oh you think it's about time she wore something more feminine, more sexy. What's that, you think she looks more - more - more what? What the fuck do you think she looks more of Frank, what huh? More like the loving wife I married or like a God damn cheap street walker? What do you think she looks more of God damn it?

Calm down, you want me to calm down! Fuck you I shouted as I slammed the glass down spilling what little was left of my drink in the process. Pushing away from the bar I got drunkenly to my feet staggering backwards before gaining my equilibrium. Composing myself I slowly turned and headed toward the exit, but before I'd taken three steps Frank caught me and steered me into a booth.

From across the room snickering laughter made its way into the fogged recesses of my numbed brain. With eyes blurry from drink I looked across the dimly lit bar searching for the source and reason of laughter. Then my eyes focused on the booth over by the juke box and the three black men sitting there. The sons of bitches weren't even trying to disguise their amusement.

Pushing myself to my feet I shouted "What the hell are you laughing at you fucking ." But before I could get the rest out Frank clamped a hand over my mouth muffling the rest of my rant. I didn't blame him, not really. I mean he may be six feet two but he's as skinny as a rail. For another, I suspect he knew what I was about to say and he didn't want either of our asses kicked. Well not his anyway.

I wouldn't have blamed him none if he'd of turned and walked away, what with the way I was acting. But Frank and I go way back. Hell, we grew up together. Lived on the same block in fact. Same grade school, same high school, same collage. Shit we even did a stint in the Air National Guard together.

Fact is it was Frank who'd introduced Regina to me. Good old match maker Frank. And when we'd gotten married a few months later it had been Frank who'd been my best man. Hell he'd been so proud you'd of thought it was him that was marrying Regina instead of me. Now I wish it had been.

Anyway as I stood there ranting into Franks hand and gesturing wildly at the black men one of them stood and began to move our way. Hissing at me to shut my mouth Frank pushed me toward the door. Glancing back over his shoulder at the approaching mountain he apologetically said they shouldn't take offense, that I was drunk and didn't know what I was saying.

Truth was I was both so pissed and so drunk that I didn't give a shit if they took offense or not. Turning about I screamed "Well how bout it, are you fucking her too? Huh, are you. How bout your "Bros.;" over there? They shoving their "Big Black Dicks" into my whore wife too?"

Like ripples in a pond his face went from barely hidden amusement to anger then finally incredulous as my accusation was hurled at him. Swaying drunkenly I staggered back to the booth realizing as I did so that I had been wrong to accuse him and his friends. But the words were out and I couldn't take them back. Like a little boy I covered my face with my hands not giving a shit about the old saying that men don't cry.

A hand touched my shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze as a voice thick with a New England accent said he was sorry to hear I suspected my old lady of screwing around. That he didn't blame me for loosing it but that I should be careful about using the "N" word cause others less understanding might take offense.

Raising my head I looked up through tear stained blurry eyes at the black man standing over me. He looked maybe 6' 4" and every bit of 260 pounds and though my brain was numb from drink I knew he could have squashed me as easily as I could have a bug.

His face was hard to read but I got the impression he was honestly concerned as he asked if maybe I wanted to talk about it. Without replying I slid deeper into the booth making room for him.

Frank, his face showing total disbelief at the revelation I had just hurled in the black mans's face, slid into the booth across from me. His voice, though barely above a whisper sounded abnormally loud in the suddenly silent bar as he repeatedly muttered "I don't believe it. Mike's wrong, he has to be wrong, she loves him."

For a minute no one said a word except Frank who, like a broken record kept muttering "No way man, not Regina. She loves him to fucking much. She'd never cheat on him, especially not with black man."

As I opened my mouth to reply the other two black men squeezed into our booth wanting to know why their friend had chosen to sit with us. At first no one said a word then the black man beside me muttered to his friends that my wife was cheating on me.

Their answer was rollicking laughter that shit like that happened all the time. I wasn't fully aware of what was going on around me but when their laughter faded to silence my guess was that it was because the black man who was sitting beside me had given his friends a stony look.

I don't know which of them signaled the bar maid but suddenly she was standing at our booth. After ordering drinks all around the three black men introduced themselves. In addition to their names I also learned that our new acquaintance's, were all ex-football players. That despite their past rivalry they were now in business together.

They owned a large security company. Among their customers were banks, the presidents of such organizations, as well as nearly every movie star living on the east coast. After a prolonged silence in which I struggled with myself about telling my story to men who were not only strangers but also black I began.

Regina and I met almost eleven months ago when Frank who is on the school board introduced us. After a short whirlwind romance which lasted maybe four months we got married.

Reaching into my pocket I pulled out my wallet. Fumbling clumsily I extracted the wedding picture I always carried and passed it to Reginald. As the picture moved around the table I studied the black men's reaction. I thought I saw a gleam in their eyes but wasn't sure.

I mean I could hardly hold my head upright let alone see straight so I couldn't be sure. Never the less their nods and soft whistles of approval as they looked at her beautiful face and trim figure brought a smile to my face despite my drunkenness and the hurt I felt. Taking a sip of my rum and coke I continued.

No my wife isn't a teacher, she's the Principle over at Loveless High. And yes I guess you can say that she is kinda young for the job. I mean shit when we were going to school I don't think any of us had a teacher as young or as good looking as her. Am I right?

As for having a Principle that looked like her well forget about it cause that only happens in fairy tales or sex videos. Me, oh I'm the President and owner of Ultimate Pools and Spas.

My head started to droop at that moment but Reginald shook me and my head jerked upright. For a second I wondered where I was and who the hell these black men were sitting with me. Then my drink numbed brain recalled that I had been telling them about my wife.

As my eyes dropped to the picture of my wife a dark hand lifted it from the table. MY eyes followed the hand as it brought it closer to Jerome's face. A closer look, I didn't blame him. Then he looked at me and for a moment I saw in his eyes his desire to get her in bed. Dropping the picture he muttered nice figure, photogenic.

I didn't dwell on either her petite 109 5 foot 6 inch 34 X 21 X 33 figure or her beauty. To do so would have been to much like bragging. Besides, both were apparent in the photo that now lay before me on the table. As I looked down into her lightly freckled smiling face outlined by shimmering waves of light red hair that fell a good six inches below her shoulders a lump formed in my throat.

Swallowing the lump that threatened to choke me I slurred that it was three weeks ago that I first noticed a change in her. You see I hadn't been home much over the last four, five months. I'd been working my ass off opening three new satellites offices. One each in Birmingham and Mobile and another right here in Montgomery, over on the east side.

Anyway I finally had the grand opening of the third and final store, the one in Birmingham. After the ceremonies I jumped into my car and drove all day. I guess you can say I was anxious to get home after an absence of better then three weeks. I think it was about 8 o'clock when I pulled up to the house cause the sun was just dropping below the horizon.

I remember thinking what a beautiful sunset as I strolled toward the house. What? Shit I don't honestly know why I parked on the street instead of pulling into the driveway. Maybe it was to stretch my legs cause I'd been behind the wheel for hours. Hell I hadn't even stopped for a piss break after leaving Birmingham.

Besides, why I did so isn't really important, is it? I mean at that particular point in time I had no reason to suspect she was other then a loving faithful wife. Anyway as I'm walking across the lawn toward the house she stepped out the door.