I messed up when I tried to post this the first time, so this is a rewrite. Sorry, new here and learning.
The Mistress
Just home after a forty-five minute drive in rush hour traffic from Redwood City where I work, I’m sitting in my recliner watching TV when the phone rings. Since I hardly ever get calls at home, I ignore it. Janice comes in from the kitchen where she is fixing dinner and answers it.
“It’s your dad,” she says.
I look at her: “My dad?”
She nods.
I wonder why he’s calling. I don’t remember that he has ever called. We don’t live far apart, but if either of my parents call, it’s my mother, and she rarely calls. We go over there from time to time. Sometimes, my dad brings my twelve-year-old sister over to babysit, but otherwise, they don’t come over.
“You doing anything tomorrow?”
“Uh…no…nothing in particular,” I say.
“How about giving me a ride up to Yuba City in your airplane?”
I’ve had my plane, a Luscombe 8-A, for over a year. I’ve had my pilot’s license for two years, and he’s never even asked me to take him for a ride. I’ve offered to take him for a ride in my plane, but he’s never taken me up on it.
“Uh…sure. What time?”
“How long do you think it will take?” he asks.
“Let me grab a chart. I’ve got to make sure there’s an airport we can land at.”
I don’t have a radio in my plane, so I have to land at fields that aren’t radio controlled. I grab a California chart that covers Northern California, open it, displaying the San Francisco bay area, and look for a uncontrolled airport near Yuba City. I find one.
Picking up the phone, I say, “Shouldn’t be much more than a couple of hours. Depends some on the wind, but I’d say two hours, give or take half an hour.
“How about we leave at ten then,” he says. I’d like to get there before one. Will that give us enough time?"
“Think so. What’s in Yuba City?”
“They’re having a rodeo, and I want to meet a friend there.”
“Anyone I know?”
“No.”
“Uh…okay. Sounds like fun,”
It’s been years since I’ve been to a rodeo. Gladewater, my hometown, holds a rodeo every summer, and we went every year when I was a kid.
“You come over,” he says, “and I’ll drive us to the airport."
“Okay,” I say, and he hangs up.
“What did your dad want?” Janice asks.
“He wants me to fly him up to Yuba City to a rodeo tomorrow.”
“We’re supposed to go to the beach tomorrow with Wayne and Katy.”
“Oh, shit! I forgot.”
“Call your dad back and tell him we’ve got something planned.”
“I can’t do that,” I say. “I’ve already told him I’d go.”
“Well, I’ve already told Katy we’d go with them.”
“Tell her we’ll go some other time.”
“That’s what you had me tell her the last time she asked us to go somewhere with them.”
“They’re your friends,” I say.
“They’re the last friends I have because you won’t ever do anything with any of my friends. If we don’t go with them tomorrow, I probably won’t have them for friends.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve already told Dad I’d take him. He’s counting on me.”
“I was counting on this trip to the beach. You never take me anywhere. You’re always out flying that damn plane of yours.”
“I’ve taken you up in it.”
“I can count the times on one hand you’ve taken me up in it in the year you’ve had it.”
“I can’t very well take you and the kids. It only seats two.”
“Yeah, so I stay home taking care of them while you’re out having fun.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “We’ll go somewhere Sunday.”
“Sunday’s too late. I’ve been busy all day getting stuff ready for the beach. Christy is excited about going. You never spend any time with your daughters either.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, “but I can’t back out on my dad.”
Janice is pissed at me, and I don’t guess I can blame her, but I’ve already told Dad I’d take him, and I guess I’m excited that he wants me to take him. He and I never do anything together; we never have. I see him when we go over to their house but nowhere else. We’ve never done any father – son things, and I don’t want to miss out on this opportunity. Besides, I wasn’t looking forward to spending the day at the beach with Wayne, Katy, Janice, and a bunch of kids anyway. She’ll just have to get over it.
When I’m getting ready to go the next morning, Christy is crying because we’re not going to the beach. I feel guilty about that, but I’m pissed at Janice, too. I figure she put Christy up to it. She could have waited until I was gone to tell her we weren’t going.
“Why don’t you and the kids go with Wayne and Katy,” I say.
“I’m sure Wayne would like that,” Janice says. “Besides, I’ve already called Katy and told them we can’t go.”
I start to ask what Katy said, but I don’t, because it would probably just set Janice off, and I don’t want to hear it. I leave early without eating breakfast, figuring my mom will fix me something when I get over to their house. I get there just as they’re about to sit down to eat, and Mom fixes me bacon and eggs. It's a hell of a lot better breakfast than the one I would have got at home.
Dad drives us out to Reid-Hillview airport in San Jose where I keep my plane. Neither of us have much to say. He parks in the parking lot by the café, and we walk to where I have my plane tied down. My plane doesn’t have a starter. I have to start it by pulling the prop, so while my dad stands off to the side, I prime it by pulling the prop around a few times, turn on the magnetos, and push in a little on the throttle. I only have to pull the prop through a couple of times before it starts. Dad gets in; I pull out the chocks that were chocking he wheel on my side and get in. It’s a short taxi to the end of the runway. I look at the windsock; it’s showing a little crosswind, but the wind isn’t blowing hard enough for it to be dangerous. I’m glad, because I don’t want anything to ruin this day.
After we take off, I glance over at the foothills. Reid-Hillview Airport is next to them right below Mount Hamilton. I can see the sun shining off the domes at Lick Observatory on the summit of the mountain. As we gain altitude, I see San Francisco Bay off in the distance. It’s a sunny day without a cloud in sight. I glance at Dad to see if he’s nervous, but if he is, I can’t tell. I don’t think, since he taught me to drive, he’s even let me drive with him in the car. I always thought he didn’t trust me, but he is going flying with me, so maybe I was wrong.
The flight across San Francisco Bay is beautiful. I can see the City off in the distance. To those of us living in the San Francisco Bay area, San Francisco is “The City.” I don’t get up there often, but I love San Francisco.
We follow the Sacramento River for a bit and arrive in Yuba City on schedule. I’m proud of myself.
“Where do we meet your friend?” I ask.
We’ll meet at the rodeo,” Dad says. “We have tickets waiting for us at the box office.
We catch a taxi to the rodeo and pick up our tickets at the box office. Dad has them and is looking for our seats. He hasn’t shown them to me, so all I can do is follow him. We start down a row. I can see a couple of empty seats a little ways down. A woman with black hair in black cowboy attire looks our way, smiles and waves, and starts down the row in our direction. Dad backs me up, and we both go back to the aisle. She joins us.
“Hello,” she says to me, “you must be Johnny.”
I cringe. I haven’t been “Johnny” since I was twelve. Only Dad, his siblings, and my grandparents call me that. Even Mom calls me “John.”
“So nice to meet you,” she says. “You’re handsome just like your father.”
“Hi,” I say.
He doesn’t say, “This is my mistress,” but he doesn’t need to. I see how she looks at him and how he looks at her. She is also obviously trying to win me over with flattery – as if that could be a possibility. My mother has always been there for me. He’s given me money and things, but he’s never given me anything of himself.
Thankfully, he sits between her and me, so I don’t have to speak to her for most of the night. Dad doesn’t talk to me either, but that’s nothing new. The two of them are drinking beer and chatting. Since I’m flying, I’m drinking Coke and watching the rodeo, although I’m not enjoying it as I thought I would. Being introduced to Dad’s mistress has ruined it for me.
We leave the rodeo before it’s over. I don’t have lights on my plane, so we have to be back and land before dark. She drives us to the airport, parking out by where my plane is tied down. While I get the plane ready, he sits in the car talking to her. I don’t see any public display of affection, but I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him kiss my mother.
We fly back to San Jose. Again, the sun is glinting on the domes of Lick Observatory, but this time, it’s the setting sun about to drop below the hills on the opposite side of the valley. He drives us back to his house in Sunnyvale saying little. I’m pissed. I thought he wanted to do something with me, but he was just using me to take him to see his mistress. He doesn’t give a shit about me. If he loves me at all, his overt indifference toward me sure as hell doesn’t let me know it.
He doesn’t tell me not to tell my mother about Elise, but he doesn’t have to. It would only hurt her. What would she do if she knew – leave him? She doesn’t work and has a daughter at home. I get in my car and go home without going in the house. I don’t want to face my mom knowing what I know. I didn’t know I was taking him to meet his mistress, but I did take him. I feel like a co-conspirator.
When I get home, Janice is still mad, and the kids are asleep. I fall asleep in my recliner watching TV and sleep in it all night. She’s not in a better mood on Sunday, so I don’t offer to take her and the kids anywhere. I go flying instead.
I may not be the best husband, but at least, I don’t have a mistress.
It’s a Saturday afternoon and Janice is bitching at me for being away all day.
“Fuck it,” I say. “If I have to listen to this shit, I’m going back out.”
When I walk out of the house and get in the car, I don’t know where I’m going, but I end up in San Francisco at the bar in the Wild Side West saloon on Broadway. The bartender comes over. I size him up; he’s tall, good looking, with dark, almost black, hair and blue eyes. He looks a little older than I am. I’m twenty-three. I figure him for twenty-six or seven.
“What can I get for you?” he says.
“Just a draft,” I say.
He draws me a beer and sets it in front of me: “Haven’t seen you in here before.”
“My first time. I live in Los Altos. Don’t get up to the City that often.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Jerome,” he says, reaching across the bar to shake my hand. When I’m ready for another beer, he says, “Let me get this one.”
Whenever he’s not busy, he comes over and talks to me. Sometime during the night, he says, “If you hang around until closing time, you can come home with me.”
That's it. Hope you liked it.