Thy Neighbor's Wife (24 page)

Eagerly anticipating his satisfaction as he drove up the winding, hilly roads of Mulholland Drive toward the Williamsons’ house, he was not disappointed when he arrived. Barbara, who was alone in the house, greeted him at the door with a prolonged kiss and warm embrace, and she accepted unhesitatingly his suggestion that they delay lunch and go straight to the bedroom.

Though he was surprised at first by the presence of various mirrors affixed to the walls and ceiling, he soon became an avid appreciator of these accoutrements after he lay nude on the bed and watched Barbara crawl toward him, with a coquettish smile and hanging breasts grazing his chest, to take his penis in her mouth and arouse him in a way that he could see from different angles. It was a rare visual experience to watch her voluptuous figure and bowed blond head, multiplied in the mirrors, stimulate him kaleidoscopically, fondle with many hands and mouths the profusion of penises that were all his to feel and see, near and afar, as an optic orgy.

Soon he felt the familiar convulsions rising within him, and as his whole body shuddered he lay back and luxuriated in his orgasm for several moments before he again opened his eyes and saw all around him his reflected stillness. He remained in bed with Barbara for more than an hour, an uncommon length of time in their history of brief encounters; but on this day they both were more ravenous for sex than food, and they exhausted one another in fulfilling their desires.

Shortly before three o’clock, driving back to his office down the
curving roads deeper into the Valley, he felt as light-headed and free as if he were gliding; but after returning to the subdued quarters of the insurance firm and telephoning his wife, he was again confronting the shifting gravity of his life.

Calling Judith to suggest that they have dinner that night at their favorite restaurant, she refused, although there was no indication in her voice that she was upset by the hours he had been keeping of late; on the contrary, she was calm and even cheerful on the phone, saying that she had already planned their dinner at home, but added that she had arranged something for them to do later in the evening. John Williamson had called earlier in the day asking for him, she explained, and she had introduced herself over the phone. After a cordial conversation in which Williamson had expressed much admiration for Bullaro, he suggested that the Bullaros stop by for a drink after dinner; and Judith, who had not gotten out of the house in days, had gladly accepted the invitation, saying that they would be there around nine o’clock.

John Bullaro was speechless and petrified. His grip tightened on the telephone, his mind flashed with images of nude people in the Williamsons’ living room, and while he could not believe that John Williamson would subject a woman he had never met to such a scene, he knew that with Williamson he could be sure of nothing. He remained silent. Judith asked if he could hear her; when he said yes, she asked him not to be late for dinner because she wanted to be out of the kitchen before the girl next door came over to baby-sit, and then she went on with other details that Bullaro did not hear, so impatient was he for her to hang up so that he could immediately call the Williamsons. He wanted an explanation for the call to Judith, an indication of what might be expected during the evening ahead, although as he dialed the Williamsons’ number he reminded himself that he should not seem too irritated or abrupt, particularly if John Williamson should pick up the telephone; Bullaro still believed that all dealings with that man should be conducted with extreme caution.

But there was no answer at the Williamsons’ home. Bullaro dialed the number again several times during the afternoon, and
tried Barbara’s office, but he was still unable to reach them. As he later drove home he knew that he had no choice but to prepare Judith for the possibility of surprises during the evening.

At dinner, after the children had gone to bed, he told Judith that he perceived the Williamsons to be an unusual couple, saying that he had heard in the office that they were involved with a kind of encounter group that occasionally held meetings at their home in the nude. While Bullaro said that he could not personally vouch for the accuracy of this information, he thought that Judith should be prepared tonight for almost anything, adding that if she felt uneasy about going, there was still enough time to cancel.

She looked at him strangely; and then, seeming confused and irritated, she asked what exactly he was getting at, and she also demanded to know why he had waited until the last minute to raise this issue. Quickly apologizing for upsetting her, he explained that he merely felt he should tell her what he had heard; to which Judith replied that the whole idea of nude encounters seemed ridiculous to her, but as long as
she
was not expected to remove her clothes, she saw no reason to cancel the evening. Bullaro said nothing more about it, although privately he was surprised by her tolerant attitude.

In the car along the way, however, Judith said very little, and he suspected that she now shared his anxiety. Pulling into the Williamsons’ driveway, he noticed three cars parked in front of the house, and the lights were on in all the rooms. Hearing voices inside, he pressed the bell and waited. Oralia opened the door, and, he was relieved to notice, she was modestly dressed in a skirt and sweater. Barbara and John then came forward, also fully dressed, to be introduced to Judith, and in the living room other people were similarly clothed, including Arlene Gough and David Schwind.

After Judith remarked on how she admired the house, particularly the high ceilings and antiques, Barbara led her out to the patio with its view of the Valley. Wine was poured, music was coming from the stereo, and soon the Bullaros were settled com
fortably in the living room involved in a general conversation that seemed to be continuing indefinitely until, unexpectedly, Judith herself introduced the subject of nudity, saying that she had heard of the Williamsons’ participation in nude encounter groups.

John Williamson nodded, and Barbara smiled, while John Bullaro blanched.

“But what do you people in these nude groups
do?
” Judith asked rather insistently.

“We do people things,” John Williamson replied.

“My husband gives me the impression that you sit around talking to one another,” Judith went on, “but why in the nude?”

“Have you ever tried it?” Williamson asked.

“I’ve never seen the need for it.”

“Taking off one’s clothes can be a first step in breaking down barriers,” Barbara explained. “In our group we’re trying to relate honestly and openly with each other. So many of the problems all of us have are the result of our inability to be honest and…”

“Yes,” Judith interrupted, “but you don’t have to be nude to achieve honesty.”

“You’re right,” John Williamson said. “You don’t have to take your clothes off. But for
many
people, having their clothes off does remove certain psychological barriers that can ultimately lead to a higher level of honesty.” As Williamson continued to elaborate, John Bullaro sat silent and tense among the other people and wished that there was some way he could change the subject of this conversation. The wine had gotten to Judith, he thought; it had no doubt accentuated the uneasiness she had felt in coming here, and now she seemed defensive and almost hostile. But he knew that there was nothing he could do now but try to avoid becoming involved in this discussion, and he might have managed it had Barbara not suddenly turned toward him and said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear: “Well,
you’re
being very quiet tonight, John.”

“Oh,” Bullaro said, “I’m just listening.” He sipped his wine, and looked idly out toward the patio. But Barbara persisted.

“John, do you think that you and Judy are honest with one another?”

Bullaro turned slowly back toward Barbara with the expression of a man in slight pain. The room was completely silent now as everyone waited for his answer. Finally, he nodded and said in a soft voice: “Yes, I think we’re honest.”

“We’re
very
honest with one another,” Judith added.

“You mean John tells you everything?” Barbara asked Judith.

“Yes, he does.”

“Does he tell you about the time he spends with me?”

Judith turned hesitantly toward her husband who, looking downward, slowly began to shake his head.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Judith replied to Barbara.

“Yes,” John Bullaro said, looking up in anger, “what the hell are you getting at?”

“I was just wondering if you ever told Judy about us?”

“What
about
us?” he demanded.

“Well,” Barbara went on easily, “did you tell Judy about
us
this afternoon?”

Everybody in the room edged forward in their seats, and Bullaro saw his wife looking from one to the other, and asking anxiously, “What happened this afternoon?”

“Nothing happened!” Bullaro yelled. “I just came here this afternoon and had lunch with Barbara.”

“Oh, come on, John,” Barbara interrupted, “is that what you call honesty?”

“Yes,” said Oralia, “
you
know you had more than lunch here today.”

Bullaro was stunned that Oralia, who until now had seemed so demure and delectable, would rise against him, and as he looked around the room the other people also seemed accusatory, even Arlene Gough, who sat on the sofa regarding him as if he were a complete stranger. Turning toward Judith, he noticed that there were tears in her eyes, and sitting on the rug at her feet was the
quiet instigator, John Williamson. The silence continued until Barbara, her eyes fixed on Bullaro, challenged him once more.

“What
else
did we do today, John, besides have lunch?”

Bullaro saw no way out. He knew it was pointless to continue his pretense, for Barbara would grill him to the bone.

“All right, for God’s sake,” he finally shouted, “I went to bed with Barbara this afternoon! Is that what you all want to hear?—
I went to bed with Barbara this afternoon!
”

“Just
this
afternoon?” Barbara quickly asked.

“No!” he answered, almost screaming, addressing the entire group and not caring what he said anymore. “I slept with her before!”

Nobody said anything, or even moved; and in the stillness of the room Bullaro sat with his head lowered, his heart pounding heavily. He felt empty, almost nauseated. Hearing Judith sobbing, he looked up to see John Williamson leaning toward her, speaking quietly, and with his hands he was softly massaging her ankles. This odd gesture seemed at first to offend her, causing her to frown, but as she did not voice an objection Williamson continued to touch her, and soon the others in the room had also gathered around to comfort her, leaving Bullaro on the outside feeling alone and condemned.

For several moments Bullaro sat watching, inert, mesmerized, as the whole group, including Barbara, performed this strange rite of consolation around his wife. But after she had stopped crying, she abruptly sat upright and waved them away, and with surprising petulance she declared: “I think that what you have all done to Johnny tonight is terrible!”

Everybody remained silent, and John Williamson stopped massaging her ankles as Judith directed her attention toward her husband.

“Tell me,” she asked in a tone that was firm but not condemning, “have you had affairs with other women besides Barbara?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Who else?”

“Well,” he said, nodding toward the lean, impassive woman sitting next to Barbara, “Arlene Gough.”

Judith studied Arlene Gough momentarily without comment, then turned back to her husband.

“Did you ever sleep with that dark-haired girl that lived in our apartment house on La Peer?”

Though it had been more than a decade since he had seen her, Bullaro had no difficulty in remembering his affair with Eileen, a divorced art teacher and native of Chicago who had occupied the apartment behind the Bullaros’ at 145 North La Peer in Beverly Hills. Eileen had walked like a ballerina, had muscular thighs and dark exotic features….

“Yes,” he said.

“Oh, I
knew it,
” Judith said, seeming perversely pleased by his admission. “All that time I thought I was going crazy with suspicion, and I hated myself for those thoughts I had, and now it turns out that I was right! I remember once mentioning her, and you seemed so offended and indignant…”

“Now wait a minute…”

“No,
you
wait a minute. You had me feeling hysterical for months, always wondering about that woman in the back apartment, seeing her come and go, even hearing her on the phone sometimes, through the wall when I was in the laundry room, speaking to you at your office—though I still couldn’t believe it. I remember one weekend you said you were going off camping with your friends from the health club, and
I knew
you were with her—I even went to the club to see if you’d left your car there, as you said you were going to do, and you didn’t. Later, on Sunday night, after I heard her coming home,
you
came home, and you had both driven in from the same direction! I knew because I was watching from the window. And when you walked in I saw that you weren’t wearing your wedding ring. I think that was when I approached you about her, and you swore that I must be crazy, that I was imagining things…”

“Dammit, Judy, in those days you were imagining me going to
bed with everybody. And unless you’d been drinking, you didn’t want sex anyway. So what did you expect me to do?”

Judith said nothing, for now she was aware of the avid interest everyone was showing in the intimate disclosures of her marriage, and she was embarrassed. The awkward silence continued until John Williamson slowly rose to his feet, and, after walking over to place a hand on the shoulder of John Bullaro, who sat slumped forward with his head in his hands, Williamson faced Judith and optimistically predicted that the wrenching events of this evening would eventually prove to be very beneficial to herself and her husband. A new level of honesty had been attained, Williamson announced, and this would allow their relationship to continue and grow without the usual deceptions and illusions. The admissions of sexual infidelity had been painful for her, Williamson conceded, but the Bullaros were still basically the same compatible couple that they had been when they arrived here earlier in the evening—things were now merely out in the open, but nothing about them as people had greatly changed.