Cathy found Bailey, following Sylvia's unbegrudged directions, lying on the ground under an old oak tree on the ridge above the house. It was a warm summer day, with just the slightest breeze, the sun bright and yellow, now at noon almost directly overhead.
Clad in a sleeveless sweater and short skirt which teasingly revealed her long shapely thighs, she stood contemplating him for a moment, lying with his eyes closed, in apparent oblivion to a fly that buzzed about his face.
"You asleep?" she asked at last.
"No, just thinking," he answered, opening his eyes.
She squatted down on the ground beside him, the effort serving to work her skirt all the way up to her tight white panties.
"I guess Bob and I will be going in a few minutes."
He nodded.
"The bridge is all right?"
"Yeah. It'll hold."
She hesitated. "Sylvia didn't look too happy this morning. I mean, she was nice. She's a wonderful woman. She told me where to find you. But she looked… bothered by something?"
"She is," he said matter of factly. "Seeing it was a little too much for her, I guess. Don't blame her. I would have been for me too."
"Seeing it?" Cathy blinked.
"Yeah. She told me about it when I went to bed. She came down the hall. She stood outside and watched for a while."
"I didn't know."
"Hell," Bailey said, "Maybe she was just jealous."
They were silent for a while after that. Bailey again closed his eyes. Cathy studied his chiseled face. She thought she would probably never see him again. But she knew, for having known him, she would never be the same.
"How'd the kid take it?" he asked, opening his eyes.
"Bob? I don't know. Neither one of us have mentioned it yet. I guess we'll have to talk about it pretty soon. I don't know what's going to happen. But I'm not sorry about this, any of it. I mean that." She paused, thoughtful. "But tell me something. Did the bridge supports wash out, or did you do that."
"I did it," Bailey sighed.
She nodded. "Do you and Sylvia do this often?"
"What?" He frowned.
"This, swapping, I guess you say. Do you do this often with other couples."
He sat up, staring at her incredulously. "Do it often? We've never done it."
Cathy bit her lip. "But I took for granted…"
"No." He shook his head. "We were both restless. But as far as I know she's never cheated on me. At least I haven't caught her. And she hasn't caught me."
"Oh," Cathy said.
"And it's not going to work," Bailey added.
Cathy's face clouded with alarm. "What do you mean?"
Bailey sighed. "I guess I mean I'm a possessive sonovabitch. Any time I look at her now, I'm going to think of that damned husband of yours fucking her. I'd get to hate her for it, finally."
Cathy was silent for a moment. "What do you mean would get to hate her?"
"If I stayed."
"If you stayed? But you're not leaving… not leaving her, because of us?" the blonde said with genuine shock.
"It's not your fault, baby." He managed a tired smile. Down at the house there was the honk of a horn. "That's your husband, ready to go." He reached up and touched his hand gently to the side of her face. "Don't worry about us. I'll probably come back. Right now I'm going to get away for a while. Sylvia will too. We talked it over last night." The horn honked again. "Now get gone. You kids are young enough to adjust. When you get my age you're too old to bend."
"But Bailey, if we caused…"
"You didn't cause it. Now go on."
She got up, her face sultry and troubled. Then she stooped and kissed him quickly on the lips, then turned hesitantly and started away down the hill. After a few paces she stopped and turned back and waved.
"Bye, Bailey."
"Bye, kid."
She stumbled on. When she looked back, he was once more reclined on the ground, eyes closed, as though asleep.