“Yeah, sorry, no problem, man. No politics.” Ken put on a smile. “I just wanna eat.”
“Alrighty then, let’s go eat!” Parks boomed, taking Rachel by the shoulder and escorting her to his truck’s passenger side. She hopped in, and then Parks slipped into the driver’s seat and pulled out of the lot.
Ken followed in his wife’s Honda.
“To Serve and Protect,” Chapter 7
by c.w. cobblestone
Ken trailed Rachel and Parks into the crowded sports bar, watching them turn heads with every step. They chose a booth near the back. Ken settled in across the table from his wife and her boyfriend, feeling every bit the pathetic third wheel. At the same time, he was grateful to be included. He had asked to tag along, and steeled himself for whatever humiliations came with that. He figured anything would be better than spending yet another night by himself pining away in front of the television.
When the waitress took orders, she complimented Rachel and Parks on being “such an awesome-looking couple,” although she added: “Your friend seems kinda sad.”
“He’s bummed out because his goldfish just died,” Parks said, inducing a giggle from Rachel.
“Oh, well, I’m sorry about your goldfish.” The woman pouted.
Ken nodded. “T-thanks.”
After the waitress wrote down the orders and left, Parks leaned over and ruffled Ken’s hair. “You’re so much fun to fuck with, Kenny.”
“I actually did have a goldfish when I was a kid,” Ken offered in a quaky voice, but by then, nobody was listening.
Ken played with his napkin while peeking across the table at his wife and her muscular boyfriend. Rachel was thrilled to be on her first public date with Parks, even though their affair had been exposed as part of an embarrassing sex scandal. Amid the throes of bliss, though, Rachel also felt sorry for her hangdog husband, and could tell he was struggling to hide his sorrow. She made a conscious effort to keep the PDAs with Parks to a minimum so as not to hurt the poor dear.
Normally, Rachel would have been writhing on her boyfriend’s lap while they swapped spit, since they could hardly be near each other for more than a few minutes without going at it. But dinner maintained a G rating throughout. Shortly after everyone’s food arrived, Parks asked Rachel for a taste of her filet, and she resisted the urge to feed him fork-to-mouth, instead cutting off a piece and leaving it on his plate. When she showed Parks her cellphone after her Instagram friend had sent her a funny meme, she made it a point to turn the phone around so Ken could see, too.
While that wasn’t enough to assuage Ken’s anguish, he put on a brave face and tried to act like one of Three Musketeers. Instead, he felt more like the Dynamic Duo’s faithful little mascot. Odd man out. Pathetic third wheel.
In addition to his mushroom burger, Parks had ordered a shot of Jack — then another, and yet another. It seemed to Ken that each refill made the off-duty cop’s smirks a little snider and his tone more condescending.
Parks was halfway through his third whiskey when he sneered at Ken. “So, Rachel tells me you met in college. You got a degree in Feminist Studies?”
Ken squirmed. “Um, yeah. I know you probably don’t think it’s very practical, but I learned a whole lot about how things work in the world.”
Rachel cut in: “And we’re not gonna talk about how things work, because you said no politics tonight, remember?”
“Right, no politics.” Ken sighed. “It’s been a crazy couple days, and I just want to have a nice meal, without a bunch of BS.”
“Amen to that, little man.” Parks lifted his glass. “Here’s to a nice meal without a bunch of BS.”
Ken cringed at being referred to as “little man,” but he played it off. Everyone clinked and took a drink.
By the time dessert came, Rachel was working on her second Tequila Sunrise. Feeling impish, her inhibitions lowered by alcohol, she dipped her finger into Parks’ ice cream and held it to his lips. He licked it off with a wink. She then reached her other hand across the table and scooped up a fingerful of Ken’s sherbet. He stuck out his tongue, expecting the same playful treat his wife had given her beau — but she tapped him on the nose instead, leaving behind a huge orange dollop. Rachel and Parks fell into each laughing other while Ken wiped off the mess with a napkin. He forced a grin and tried to be good-natured about his wife’s demeaning little prank.
Parks began talking about his job as a cop, which segued into a discussion about his military service. When he mentioned that he’d been in the 101st Airborne Division, Rachel squealed.
“OMG, my dad was a Screaming Eagle. He was a colonel at Fort Campbell, although when he was younger he was a trainer at the Assault School there.”
“Your dad was a Black Hat? Wow, no shit, he must’ve been a badass.” Park grinned. “I was at Fort Campbell, too. When was he there?”
“Well, he retired back in 2014, and died four years after that, so he would’ve been there from about 1993 until he retired. He was the Garrison Commander for the last 15 years or so.”
Parks shrugged. “Oh. I got there in 2015. Must’ve been right after he retired.”
“I wish he could’ve met you.” Rachel showed him a photo of her dad on her cellphone. “You two would’ve gotten along great.”
Ken took that as a major slap in the face, although Rachel didn’t notice. The late U.S. Army Colonel Everett C. Beck had despised Ken from day one. The military lifer was convinced that his only daughter was too good for her effeminate, idealistic, shiftless hubby, and he never stopped haranguing her about marrying him during her senior year at State U. The crusty old widower stayed on Ken’s case, calling him all sorts of humiliating names, including “candy-ass,” which was still in heavy rotation long after the authoritarian bastard had croaked. Until the day he died, Colonel Beck accused Rachel of using Ken to rebel against him, picking someone who was the exact opposite of her strong-willed, masculine father. The concerned dad repeatedly warned her that she’d eventually come to regret her decision to marry “that candy-ass loser who lives in Fantasyland.”
So, it was like a kick in the nuts for Ken to have to sit there and listen to his wife gush about how her prick of a father would’ve loved Parks. But the dejected cuckold somehow managed to maintain his fake smile throughout the demoralizing conversation. Although it felt like he was passing a kidney stone, Ken even praised the colonel when Parks mentioned how well he’d raised Rachel.
“Boy, your dad must’ve been a real solid dude to have produced someone like you,” Parks told his lady.
“Oh, she takes after her father a lot,” Ken offered, his attempt at jumping into the conversation falling flat.
Rachel’s eyes danced as she leaned into her lover. “Yeah, Dad didn’t like Ken much.”
Parks scoffed. “Naw? I can’t imagine. Now, why didn’t her dad like you, Kenny?”
“Um, I don’t know.” Ken flicked the salt-shaker.
“Because he was a Feminist Studies major,” Rachel said, causing Parks to crack up while Ken slumped in his seat. “Tell Trent what my dad always called that degree.”
Ken searched his wife’s eyes. “Aw, come on, honey. Let’s not, okay?”
“What?” Rachel scoffed. “My father thought you were stupid for getting a candy-ass diploma. That’s not exactly a secret, Ken.”
“I wasn’t stupid, Rachel. All right?” Ken sipped his Moscato. “It’s not a ‘candy-ass diploma.’ I learned a lot, okay?”
Leave a Reply