For two days I was delirious with anticipation.   High on lust, my brain seemed on overdrive and firing an all cylinders.  My notoriously rotten memory and struggles with multi-tasking evaporated.  I cranked out four small projects that I had putting off for close to a year.

Katie took notice.

“Wow, somebody’s on a roll,” came the trigger that nearly stopped my heart.

Instinctual fear nearly whipped up a sarcastic attack but I caught it.  For what felt like an eternity, I paused to try to evaluate her comment.  I demanded that I not panic and send this moment spiraling from what might just be an obvious observation into a full blown catastrophic event.

“I’ll take manic over depression any day.”  I swear I heard my voice tremble and crack a little.

Katie’s expression hitched into a puzzled look for a moment then retreated behind a comforting smile.  Her smile morphed my fear into a mix of relief and guilt.  I changed the topic by announcing that I needed to get some ground beef out of the freezer for dinner on Tuesday.

The hangover from the exchange rolled in swift and thick.  My mind ticked away at least a dozen scenarios where my thirst for excitement dampened my sense of discipline and attention to detail; the probability of getting caught, or at minimum, strongly suspected of cheating on Katie was a near certainty.  I bargained with my own rational conclusion: I’ll be careful.  No phone calls, no emails, no texts, no trails.  I’ll set it up for just one meet with Rob and Hope just to get it out of my system.

“You’ll be unbearable until you get another fix,” I heard myself mumble.  Great, I am now talking to myself in second person.  I could set it up with them with the understanding that it is to be a one time affair -- a pact.

The drama in my head was getting ridiculously similar to a prime time soap my folks watched 30 years ago.  I trudged down to my sanctuary in the basement and stared at Hope and Frank’s computer that I had mended the day before.  The pride I had felt earlier for being trusted with their machine and having the character to not hunt around the hard drive for secrets was gone.  My thoughts circled around the fact that I cheated on Katie with one of our friends.  Strangely, I was aware that I was rationalizing that the hook ups with the dads did not seem to count despite my command for psychobabble was recognizing it as nonsense.  “If Katie had a cock to play with, I would not have needed to step out,” was the ludicrous justification.  But another woman was a completely different matter whose growing weight my self centeredness could no longer support.

No doubt about it, manic is far better than depression.

I picked up the phone and scrolled the directory for Hope’s house phone.  I stood staring at it for a few moments and then made the call to let them know that their HP was ready to go and I could drop it off in a bit.  Frank answered the phone and thanked me for taking care of it.

“Dude, I don’t know a fuckin’ thing about them things.  What do I owe you?”

“Ribeye.  Medium-rare before the summer is out and we’ll call it even.”

“Are you sure, man?  Seems awful light, but it’s your call.  When do you think you’ll be comin’ over?  I was just about to head out the door to get Nate from my Mom’s but Hope should be here for a while.”

“That’s cool.  Let her know that I’ll be there in about an hour or so.  I guess I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Sounds good.  Thanks again.”

Sitting in my office chair, I contemplated what I was going to say to Hope when I got there.  An hour drifted by and I coiled the power cord and put the computer in my truck and announced to Katie that I was dropping off the machine and asked if she needed anything while I was out.

“Not that I can think of.   See you in a short.”

My mind was sober and reflective for the ten minute drive across town.  My mouth dried up and I was irritated that my heart rate was getting obnoxious.  I went to the side door with the computer under my arm and rang the doorbell with a knuckle.  Amanda, their pint-sized daughter, came to the door.

“Hi Mistoh Justin.  Daddy went to get my brudda but Mommy’s inna house.”  Too cute; but why didn’t Hope answer the door?  Something was up.  I wiped my feet vigorously on the thick outdoor bristle mat before stepping inside.