What is her name? It all seems so strange. The high resolution digital photo is clear, but the message it portrays is so very confusing. When was this photograph taken? And by whom? A million questions are racing through my mind and I suddenly find it hard to breathe. To my surprise, I’m not angry. I think if I weren’t so shocked, I would actually be very hurt.. But, for the most part, I am just curious.
I can see the new couch my husband bought a few months ago, and there is no doubt that this is my house. To me, the couch always seemed uncomfortable and oversized. I wonder how it feels to her? Orange walls, although irritating, are a perfect match to the colors of my husband’s favorite college football team. Maybe she is watching the football game. I’m not sure if she is smiling or not, but her pose presumes that she is comfortable and at ease in my home.
The box-dyed redhead relaxing on the sofa has no identity … at least not a name I know. Her thick legs appear disproportionately large considering the angle from which the photograph was taken. I would have stood up to capture a more pleasing image if I was the photographer. However, I’m guessing that the person who snapped this image is temporarily blind to any of her flaws. Looking at the results of a camera lens is entirely different than seeing the world through another’s eyes. Not petite, nor heavy, she just seems average. Maybe brown eyes, though the red-eye reflection from the flash of the camera makes definite identification unclear. I’m guessing brown. Upon second look, it seems that she may not dye her hair. I’ve seen many a red head with mounds of course, wavy hair that generally appears unruly despite efforts to control the tresses. And the abundance of freckles lead me to believe that may have been wrong in my first assumption. Her casual dress and lack of shoes tell me that this is not a formal meeting. Where was I when this photograph was taken? Her attempts at beautification enhance her appearance, yet there is nothing striking about her. It is hard to guess her age, but I would say mid to late forties. But then again, maybe the perspective from which I am looking at this situation is blurring MY judgment.
I only know pieces of this puzzle now that this photograph has enlightened me to the idea that there is indeed a mystery which needs solving.
What was the occasion that brought her to my home on this particular day? My head is spinning. It seems that I have met her before. Was it last year? No … maybe the year before … I’m not quite sure. But faded memories tell me that friends of ours brought this women into my life. A barbecue? Yes! That was when I first saw her. I even welcomed her. It seems that another man accompanied her, but that is in doubt as well. Things are becoming clearer, I remember … last year, I opened my home to Dave and Kelly for a barbecue after their rafting trip nearby. Should I call them? Will they tell me? Are they truly my friends? Instincts tell me that Dave plays an important role in this scenario, but again, the details have yet to be determined.
As I sit here looking at the pictures contained in this digital camera, slowly, it is beginning to make sense Now that I think about it, I always wondered why my husband bought a new camera. My expensive, top of the line digital camera sat under my desk, unused, most of the time. It was impossible not to notice the rift growing between me and my husband. I’ve even heard rumors about his infidelities, but denial caused me to quickly discredit them and/or their source. Now I have to wonder the motivations for my husbands carelessness. He must think that he is in love. Men like him rarely discard one woman without having another waiting in the wings. I’m sure that he left this camera sitting on the desk intentionally.
The time frame of their affair is not known to me, but the end result is obvious. This picture does make that perfectly clear. I wonder if my husband’s promises to her appear as heartfelt and introspective as they did to me all those years ago? Of courses, promises of late have all gone unfulfilled. I wonder what lies he has told her. Maybe he didn’t lie to her at all. I really have no idea, just photographs. I would love to make sweeping judgments of her character and intentions but that would only render me the fool. I certainly don’t want to steal that title away from my husband.
I know all to well his ability to charm, but behind that charismatic façade lurks the devil himself. Twenty years of experience has also afforded me the painful surety of his adeptness at deception. Many a time I have sat and listened to him recall an event and wonder “Where was I? Because I was at that same event and nothing he said rang true, albeit a well told story.” However, usually he would get the date and time correct. He was always very concerned about the time. I could never get him to understand that habitual lying only makes one immune to truth.
In some strange way, I believe this unidentified mistress, sitting in my home, is a better match for my husband that I could ever be. She obviously seems relaxed in another woman’s home. Maybe that is why he is drawn to her. Could I so easily laze around, playing the role of mistress? Just the thought knots my stomach. I was never one for potential confrontations. I’m sure that she conforms to his way of thinking, or at least lacks the will of self-respect. Like begets like.
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