Witness: Steve and Claire

I was just 18 and I was having dinner with my new girlfriend's parents for the first time. I was desperate to make a good impression when the conversation took a turn I was not prepared for.

Three days earlier they had met Steve and Claire Phillips at one of our summer picnics and they wanted to know more about the couple. Steve and Claire were good people and I liked them a lot. I even had a little secret to tell - I was best man at their wedding. How that wedding came to be was a very different story.

The neighborhood where I grew up had Saturday night dances during the summer. Sometimes we had live music, but on the better nights we spun records. Oh boy, some of those bands were not good! I was 17 then. It was the first Saturday dance of the summer and I was standing next to Steve Phillips. Steve was about 35 and he was married to Jean. She was a Marilyn Monroe lookalike with the morals of an alley cat. Scratch that. I shouldn't insult alley cats that way. Jean had a serious medical condition - she was unable to keep her knees together whenever she was around a male of legal age. Money, an expensive suit and a fancy car all seemed to aggravate her unfortunate condition.

Jean must have married Steve for the security and his income. She sure didn't love him considering the pain she inflicted on him regularly. I was only 17, but even at that age we all know that married women should not date. In fact, I could never decide to call her behavior "dating" when I was talking with my girlfriend's parents since I was dating their daughter and I didn't want Jean's behavior to reflect in any way on my activities. You know that old story about "How do you boil a frog?" Well, she must have started out slow with little things and then bit by bit she ratcheted up the behavior until Steve found himself cuckold beyond redemption. I never knew how or why he put up with it.

It all came to a head at that first Saturday night dance of the summer when she brought her date to the dance. He was a smarmy creep. He knew no one there but Jean, and no one knew him, but he strutted around like he owned the place. We all looked at Steve as he stood by the wall watching his wife dance with her date. It was a very family-oriented community, so there were some things you just didn't do. Apparently, dating some jerk in front of your spouse wasn't one of those things, but sliding your hand down from your date's waste and cupping her bottom was definitely not something the neighbors wanted to see. Every time he'd do it Jean would give out a little squeal and pull herself closer to him. When the neighbors had seen enough, a few of the wives went over to the loving couple and told them to leave. The creep protested, but then the husbands went over and settled the matter. As they walked out of the dance hall, the creep looked over at Steve and smirked. He obviously knew who Steve was. Then his loving wife leaned in Steve's direction, and with a big smile she blew him a kiss. They both laughed as they walked out.

I was standing next to Steve as we watched his wife and her "date" walk across the dance hall porch and the creep again dropped his hand to cup Jean's bottom. She let out another little squeal and pulled herself closer to him. I don't know what came over me. I was just a smart-mouth kid and he was an adult married man, but I looked at Steve and I said, "Why do you put up with this?" He looked at me with that broken look on his face and he said, "Look at me, Jake. How else am I going to get a woman like Jean?" Well I had answers to that question. I wanted to say, "You could rent one by the hour!" or "There are several street corners in town where you can find one.", but she was still his wife for better or worse and I needed to show a little respect for him if not for her. I finally looked at him and I said, "When are you going to stop trying to impress the other boys and find someone who makes you happy?" Like I said, I was just a smart-mouth kid. I'm surprised he didn't hit me. Instead, he just stood there looking at me with glassy eyes until he started nodding his head. I apologized for what I said and I tried to think no more of it.

Two weeks later Steve had his faithless wife served with divorce papers at work. He figured at least some of her dates worked there, too, so it seemed only fitting. I guess he'd had enough.

That night when Jean came home the neighbors were treated to quite a show. They only heard her part of it since only she was shouting, but it was still worth the price of admission. I heard about it the next day. News travelled fast in our neighborhood. The best line of the night was when she said, "Steven Phillips, either you stop this divorce nonsense right now or I'll leave you and you'll never see me again!" I thought that had to be the very definition of an empty threat and I laughed about it for days.

Steve had made up his mind, but he wasn't a happy man. Jean soon moved out, but he was going about his business like a man in a daze. However, his life was about to change.

I need to jump forward to the last dance of the season. Steve hadn't been seen much that summer and we all assumed he was holed up in his house. We got it wrong. The band was playing and couples were dancing when in walked Steve and someone on his arm who was not Jean. Do you know those moments in the movies when all the action stops, the room goes silent, and all you hear are the crickets chirping outside? Even the band sensed something had happened and they stopped playing. All eyes were on Claire, a lovely, if somewhat thin, middle-aged woman on the arm of an accountant who had suffered long years with a cheating wife. Claire was momentarily taken aback. She actually took a step back worried that all eyes seemed to be on her. I don't know who first started to clap, but a moment later everyone in the room was applauding the arrival of that unassuming and slightly shy couple who had walked into the dance hall just thinking they'd have a few dances and Steve would introduce Claire to some neighbors.

It didn't go that way. Several people closest to the door approached the couple and started to introduce themselves. Moments later a few of the wives cut Claire out of the herd and she found herself surrounded by smiling wives with questions. She seemed to enjoy the attention. Claire danced every other dance with Steve that night, but in between every husband there took her for a quick spin around the dance floor just to welcome her to the community. No one got more than half a dance with Claire before someone would cut in, but no one was complaining. The wives kept Steve busy on the dance floor as well and the happy couple walked home with that warm feeling that only comes from acceptance and good friends.

A few months later on a sunny afternoon in early winter I ran into Steve on the street and I happened to ask him how he and Claire got together. This is the way he told the story. I've not added or taken away any part of it. I'm still a bit surprised that he told me, but then he had something to ask of me as well.

It was that Thursday, mid-morning, after the Friday when Steve served Jean with divorce papers, that his secretary of 7 years walked into his office and closed the door behind her. "OK, boss, what's going on? All week you've been ignoring everyone and it's not like you. What did the bitch do now?"

"Not this time. It was me who did something. I filed for divorce." he said.

Claire actually let out a yelp, jumped and punched the air. "It's about damn time! Steve, you can do so much better than her. God, Steve, I thought this day would never come. You need to celebrate!"

"Funny, I don't feel much like celebrating." he said. "I mean, I couldn't go on that way any longer. It had to end. Still, I feel like a part of me died and that part of me is lost forever."

"Steve, trust me. This is just the beginning of a much better life." She hesitated and then she uncharacteristically leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. With that she smiled, turned and walked out of the room, but not without looking back at Steve one last time.

Friday morning brought the first of two big surprises for Steve. Claire walked into his office and said, "Boss, tonight you're coming over to my place for a home cooked meal. How does tenderloin, potatoes and asparagus with hollandaise sound?"

Steve appreciated the gesture, but said, "Thank you. I really don't think I'd be very good company."

"Did that sound like a request to you?" Claire drew a bead on him, smiled briefly, and said, "You're coming over for a home cooked meal tonight. Be there at 7 and don't be late."

What choice did he have? Another night alone wouldn't be any better than the last five nights. Plus, he'd better keep Claire happy or he'd have an office life that was no better than his home life.

At 7 PM he was standing at her door with a bottle of wine in his left hand and his right hand on the buzzer. The door opened and Claire looked from behind the door, smiled, and invited him in. He was still in a daze from serving Jean with papers and he was largely unaware of what was going on around him. He heard the door close and turned to say, "I really don't think I'll be very good company tonight." The words never came out.

Steve was telling me the story and he looked me in the eyes when he said, "I turned to look at her and she was wearing a pair of red high-heeled shoes."

I thought for a moment and I said, "That sounds nice. I guess red means she was having fun?"

"No. You don't understand." he said. "All that she was wearing was a pair of red high-heeled shoes." He was smiling like I've never seen him smile before. He said, "For a moment I remembered your words to me that night at the dance and I thought, `This woman could make me happy!' The truth is she always has. I just never realized how much she had become a part of my life until that moment."

Now I really didn't know what to say. After much thought, all I could come up with was, "So, how was dinner?" OK. I was smiling by that time as well.

"We didn't eat until almost midnight, but it was great!"

Now I was speechless and I really didn't know what to say to him. Jean's treatment of him had weighed on my mind for a long time. I had a few nightmares where I woke up dreaming I was married to a cheating wife like Jean. I started to think that maybe those nightmares would leave me now.

"Jake, I have a favor to ask of you. Claire and I are getting married in about 5 months and I'd like you to be my best man."

I never saw that coming. I told him I was touched, but I asked if there wasn't a closer friend he'd rather have. He told me that I'd been there for the divorce and he wanted me there for the marriage, too. How do you say no to a request like that? I agreed and said I'd do my best. Little did I know what that promise would entail.

I won't even try to tell you about how I threw a bachelor's party when I wasn't old enough to buy alcohol. That's a whole other story.

The day of the wedding came and I was standing with the groom just off to the side of the altar when a bride's maid tapped me on the shoulder. "The bride wishes to speak with the best man." I looked at Steve, he shrugged, and I walked off to speak with the bride. I'd heard stories about brides on their wedding day and the walk to the back of the church felt more like that last mile.

I was brought into the bride's dressing room and was immediately surrounded by the entire bridal party. I was feeling trapped. Claire looked lovely. She smiled at me and began by saying, "How is the groom holding up?"

That was an easy question. I said, "He's cool as they come and looking forward to getting hitched." The bride's maids gave a little laugh. I figured I was doing ok.

The bride then asked, "Do you know the duties of a best man?"

I did. I said, "I have three duties: don't lose the ring, give a good toast, and don't embarrass the bride." The bride's maids all laughed a little louder. I was on a roll.

The bride was smiling. "No." she said. "I mean, do you know the traditional role of the best man?"

I didn't. I hadn't a clue. I was stumped.

She said, "If for any reason the groom is unable to go through with the wedding, it falls to the best man to marry the bride." This brought the bridal party to full out, unrestrained laughter. They were enjoying this little display at my expense. The bride was smiling, but she had locked eyes on me and never looked away.

I knew this was her day and I had to tread carefully, but I also knew I could not let her get away with this. After a moment I said, "Well, I'm told you do look great in red heals!" At this the bride's maids all shrieked and screamed with laughter, the bride's eyes grew wide, and she hid her face in her hands. I could see between her fingers that she was turning every shade of red and it was obvious that the entire bridal party knew the story.

After a bit she raised her head and with a smile she said, "Why yes, yes I do." That brought another shriek of laughter from the bridal party. She finally said, "Tell the groom I'll be along momentarily." and I very happily made my exit.

When I got back to Steve he asked, "What was that all about?" All I could do was shrug and say, "Shoes." He must have been more nervous than I thought because he just nodded like that was the most natural thing and we went back to waiting in silence for the bride to make her entrance.

A few minutes later the bride walked down the aisle to smiles and tears on both sides. As she stood before the altar arms linked with her groom, she leaned back and behind him she smiled at me and blew a kiss. Now it was my turn to blush and I turned every shade of red. I then remembered the third duty of the best man. The bride always gets the last word.