The Three-Day Affair

“No,” I said. “We could go around in circles forever. I’m sorry, but … no. Every minute she’s here makes things worse for everyone. We have to let her go.” Even as I said this, I was looking to Nolan for an objection. Some last-ditch plan that would save us. He said nothing, just returned my gaze, and I realized that he was looking to me for the same thing. “All right, then,” I said. “It’s settled.”


I hoped there would be time, after letting Marie go, to phone Cynthia. I needed to let her know that our lives were going to change. That they already had.

As I was thinking about using the telephone, it rang. My ringtone played the Popeye-the-Sailor theme song. A happy little melody. This connection to the outside world startled me completely. I removed the phone from my pants pocket and looked at the display.

“Huh.”

“Who is it?” Nolan asked.

“It’s Evan.”

“Answer it.”

I hesitated.

“Answer it.”

So I did.

“Save me some beer, you dickwads.” The connection was full of static. “I’ll be at the Newfield station in, oh, about thirty-five minutes.”

“You’re on the train now?”

“Yup.”

“What about all your work?”

“Right, so picture this. I’m working on this memo that I’m told has to be e-mailed out tomorrow morning? Hard deadline and all that? Then I find out from the dipshit partner that the client’s going to be at his daughter’s wedding tomorrow. He won’t even be checking e-mail until Monday. So I said to myself, the hell with it. I’m going to see my friends.”

“Evan,” I said, “you can’t come tonight.”

Nolan was glaring at me, whispering, “Call him back.”

“Look, I need to call you right back.”

“What do you mean, ‘I can’t come.’ I’m coming.”

“Two minutes, I’ll call you back.”

“The pleasure will be all mine,” Evan said.

I hung up the phone. “I know what you’re thinking,” I said to Nolan, “but forget it.”

“You were being rash. I thought we should discuss it for a minute.”

“He’s our friend,” I said.

“Our friend the lawyer,” Nolan said.

“But this isn’t his problem.”

“He’ll know how to help us.”

“What’s to know? We fucked up. The three of us. That’s all there is to it. We shouldn’t be drawing Evan into it.”

“It’s not drawing him into anything,” Nolan said. “This is what he does. He works to get people out of bad situations.”

“Jeffrey,” I said, “help me out here.”

Jeffrey shrugged. “Evan’s an adult. The man can make his own decision.”

“Not if we’re making it for him.”

“When he gets here,” Nolan said, “he can turn right around and leave. Hell, he can call the police himself, if that’s what he wants. But why not let him size up the situation?”

If I picked Evan up at the station, it would be another hour before we were back here, and that was assuming the traffic had lightened up by now. We shouldn’t wait that long. Waiting had gotten us into trouble. “Or we could let her go right now,” I said.

Nolan frowned. “Go ahead, Will. Do it. Let her go.” When a couple of seconds passed and I hadn’t moved, he said, “We need to be honest with each other. If you aren’t going to set her free, then don’t threaten us. If you are, then go ahead and do it already. No one’s going to stop you.” He crossed his arms and watched me.

I knew he was calling my bluff, but he was also giving me the chance to call his. If I went to set her free, would he let me do it, or would he try to stop me? Would he stop Marie? How would he stop her—to what lengths might he go? It was beginning to dawn on me that I was a little afraid of Nolan.

I handed him my phone. “You call him.”

Nolan took the phone from me and dialed Evan. Waited. “No, it’s Nolan,” he said. “What time does your train get in to Newfield? Okay. Will’s going to meet you at the station. What’s that? All right. Consider it done. See you soon.”

He tossed me back the phone. “Evan hasn’t had any dinner. He’d like a pizza.”



I’d first met Evan through Nolan. The two of them had become fast friends and fierce opponents in Princeton’s debating society. Debating held no appeal for me, but the society had lots of money and threw lavish receptions. I’d gone with them to one—a state supreme court justice spoke about constitutional law, though what I remember most were the crab cakes and the innumerable bottles of wine—and afterward we went to a couple of dorm parties across campus. When we left the last party, it was one of those cool autumn nights that smelled of grass and distant burning leaves. A perfect night for walking hand in hand with one’s girlfriend or for cementing newly formed friendships.

We found ourselves across the street from McCarter Theatre, one of the tallest buildings on campus, and decided it would be an awfully good idea to hurl rolls of toilet paper off the roof.

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