When Everyone is Happy

David Benson was a loyal, hardworking man. He had been a young, hotshot junior executive at a marketing firm for the past four years. He never missed work, never took vacation, and was always willing to work late to keep things running smoothly. While his dedication to the firm was infallible, David was also able to foster an enviable personal life. He had a lovely wife, Ilena, to whom he had been married going on five years. He lived in a nice house in a nice neighborhood on the north side of town. It was a perfect place to start a family, which as of late, David and Ilena had been seriously considering.

That morning, however, David had work on his mind. It was a usual Thursday and he was in a usual meeting. Seated in a conference room on the fourteenth floor of a downtown office building were fourteen of David’s equals. Each was nestled in a fine leather chair and huddled comfortably around a fine oak table. While everyone donned their finest suits, a fifteenth player stood at the head of the table, his jacket draped over the back of his chair and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. This was Charles Blackmore, the firm’s first senior executive and David’s direct supervisor.

It was no secret that Charles was a playboy. He was a man’s man, and though he was past his prime, he was handsome as ever, with fire in his belly and charm to spare. He, too, was married, but you’d never know it unless you were told. It wasn’t that he was after every woman in sight, though. He tried to be discreet, but everyone knew. It was rumored that he spent his noontime with the brunette from the coffee shop around the corner. David held Charles’ secret in confidence, but he’d never say whom he was protecting.

“That shouldn’t even be a concern,” screamed Charles, waving his coffee mug like a sword in the face of his enemies. The group was behind with a major client and deadline was fast approaching. “Who’s in charge of the layout?” roared Charles again. As the guilty party made himself known, Charles raised his mug high above the table, as if to deal the final blow. He was furious, and in the process of sheathing his weapon, he stepped back into his chair. Stumbling slightly, Charles spilled down the right front of his shirt. The group went silent. A calm spread over the room. If there was any pain, though, the man standing before them swallowed it all. He just turned calmly and left the room.

With infallible calmness, David rose and announced that the meeting would resume in thirty minutes. He then left the room for his office. Ever prepared, David kept an extra shirt on hand for occasions such as this. Lucky for Charles, he and David were of similar size and build. David grabbed the shirt and headed for Charles’ office. He knocked twice and let himself in before Charles could send him away. Once in, David found his boss slouching in his chair, his eyes burning a hole in the desk that lay before him. “Here,” said David. “We’ve got to get back to the meeting.” Charles awoke from his daze as he accepted the shirt. “Thank you. Thirty minutes?” asked Charles. “Thirty minutes,” doubled David. Both men smiled as David left the room. The rest of the morning would play out as if nothing had ever happened.

David was in his office reviewing notes over a tuna sandwich when Charles stopped by. Noon hour was nearing its end, and it appeared that whatever Charles had for lunch put a big smile on his face. “Davy boy, here’s your shirt back. I owe you big time,” he laughed as he threw David the shirt, crumpled up in a plastic bag. David caught it in self-defense. In the short time it took him to get his head back on straight, his doorway way was long vacant. He could only sigh and shake his head. He got up and hung the bag on the back of his door to take home.

That night, David was once again one of the last to leave the office. It was 8:30, and he knew Ilena had been expecting him home by six. He decided he’d stop and get some flowers on the way home. Keys in hand and office door halfway shut, David caught himself. He reached around the door and grabbed the shirt. “Can’t forget this,” he sighed to himself. He then rushed home.

“I’m home,” hollered David as he walked through the front door. He set his keys on a side table and set the shirt and flowers in a chair beside the door. “You’re late,” cried Ilena from the other room. David replied, while taking off his jacket, “You know how it gets when a deadline comes around.” Before he could hang his jacket Ilena had come around the corner to put a long overdue hug around David’s neck. “I missed you,” she said.

Ilena was a passionate, strong-willed woman. She poured herself into work. She ran an interior design business with Linda Blackmore, Charles’ wife. The two had been close friends for as long as David had been working at the firm. The two couples often held and attended parties together on the weekends. Ilena didn’t know about Charles’ extra-marital activities, and David hoped she never would. They were all happy. No one was getting hurt. That was all that mattered.

“So what was for dinner?” asked David as he took Ilena into the living room. Ilena had decorated the room herself. It was ‘retro with a modern flair,’ as she would say. Its color was warm with soft tans and oranges accented with soft greens throughout. David said he liked it, but could never give a reason why, only a shrug with a crooked smile. “Oh, we had a lovely chicken teriyaki dish with a delightful Caesar salad,” said Ilena with an air of smugness. “I ate all of mine without a problem, but you apparently didn’t have much of an appetite. I put your leftovers in the fridge.” “I’m sorry,” sighed David. “Hey, I brought you something.” He turned back toward the entry. “Wait,” Ilena yipped. “I’ll get it. You go eat.” She skipped out of the living room as David walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “David,” Ilena called from the other room. “What?” David shouted into the fridge. “What’s this?” Ilena called again. “Oh come on,” David yelled back as he left the fridge with his supper. “I know they’re not much, but it’s the thought that counts.” He set the plate on the counter and began to unwrap it.

“No. This.” David turned to find Ilena propped up in the kitchen doorway holding his shirt. “It’s my extra shirt. I brought it home to wash,” explained David. “I figured that,” snapped Ilena. “But what about this?” David turned and looked again. This time Ilena held up the collar, revealing traces of red lipstick. David was speechless. He had never though to look at the shirt before he brought it home. “Uh…it’s just an office joke,” he nervously tried to explain. “Things like this happed all the time.” “Yeah, I bet,” said Ilena, her voice now shaking as her temper rose. “You know David, late nights at work…flowers for every little thing…I should have seen this earlier.” “Ilena…” David started toward her. “David, no! I don’t want to hear any excuses!” Ilena threw up her hands and turned into the living room. David started after her. “This isn’t what it looks like,” he said as he made it to her shoulder. Ilena turned. “Oh yeah, David? Yeah? What does this look like?” she asked mockingly. “I can see this. I know exactly what it looks like. It’s pretty clear,” she said as she waved the shirt above her head. Tears and eyeliner were streaming down her face. David touched her shoulders, trying to calm her down. Ilena, now furious, screamed, “Stop it! Just stop it!” as she shoved him away. David stumbled backward and fell over an armchair. Ilena turned away as the tears began to fall like rain. “Just tell my why,” she cried. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” When he didn’t answer she turned to ask again. “David, get up and answer me! Tell me why, David!” she screamed as she walked across the room. “Tell me wh…David! Oh my God!” Ilena rushed around the chair to meet David. When he fell, hit his head on the corner of an end table. He just laid there, his body limp and motionless, a dark pool of blood soaking into the carpet around his head. “David, get up! David!” Ilena cried as she tried to shake him awake.

By now she was delirious. Right then there was no shirt, no flowers, no late work, no cold chicken, not anything. Only David, lying unconscious on the living room floor. Ilena got up and rushed to the phone, hitting the first number on speed dial. “Hello?” she cried into the phone, her voice almost incomprehensible. “There’s been an accident. David’s hurt. I don’t know what to do.” She started crying harder as the voice on the other end said something. Ilena then hung up and dropped to the floor. Two minutes later a car pulled up out front and Charles Blackmore burst though the front door. “Ilena!” Charles roared as he ran into the living room. He saw David on the floor. ‘Dear Lord,’ he said to himself. “Charles,” Ilena said, now quietly sniffling. Charles turned around. “Ilena,” he said, going down to her. “What happened?” “He had lipstick on his collar.” she said, pain deep in her voice. “We had a fight. I pushed him. He fell.” Charles became cold and hard. “What shirt?” he asked. Ilena pointed to the middle of the room. Charles looked. He felt as if he’d been stabbed in the heart. “Ilena,” Charles said quietly. “This morning I spilled coffee on my shirt and David gave me that shirt to wear. He had nothing to do with it.” Ilena looked up at Charles, her eyes glossy and distant, as if searching for answers somewhere far beyond Charles’ face. “You mean,” she whispered, her voice shaky but alert. “Yes Ilena,” Charles said. “I was wearing the shirt. The lipstick is yours.”