The Life and Times of Randall Weston

The Life and Times of Randall Weston

By M. F. B. Porter

Randall Weston never meant to cheat on his wife.  After all, she was beautiful, a successful therapist, she took meticulous care of their house; nothing slipped through the cracks.  She was sweet.  Even Randall’s friends thought he’d hit the spousal jack-pot.

But as Randall sat on the park bench in his gray, custom made suit, a newspaper in his hands and a coffee cup at his side, he couldn’t help but feel distant from the decisions that led him here.  

His wife had seen some of his emails last night that she shouldn’t have.  With a dead look in her eyes, she had a told him to get out.  

Randall sighed.  He had gotten sloppy.  

His eyes scanned the obituaries, but his mind had drifted some place else.

He had met Serena at work.  She was dark and mysterious, some would even say aloof; everything his wife was not.

Serena was the office secretary, and she was every man’s fantasy.  The more Randall thought about it, the more he realized just how much of a stereotype he had become.

A kid who kicked his soccer ball too far brought Randy briefly back to the present.

Randall sipped his coffee.

He wondered disinterestedly if his wife would take him back.  He thought he should feel terrible, guilty.  Anything.  He thought he should feel more attached or invested in his wife.  Would she let him come back?

His thoughts turned down a different direction.  Maybe Serena would want to get an apartment in the city together.  It’d be nice to have a place in the city.  He wouldn’t have to commute to the office every day.

Randy set down the paper, excited by the possibility, as a young woman with a tall man at her side sauntered past him in teetering heels.  A large diamond glimmered on her finger, and she was pushing some designer stroller that he probably would never recall the name of.  He watched her pass, and she gave him a sly smirk.  He couldn’t be sure, but she might’ve winked at him.  

Randall smiled back his best banker smile, and it worked.  Her eyes glimmered, alight with something.  Randall thought he knew with what.  And he wanted it.

No, Randall Weston did not care if his wife took him back.

But he knew she would.