don't push it Herb!
Home sweet home Latest site info Poetic stuff Serious stuff Funny stuff Topical stuff Alternative stuff Shakespearian stuff Musical stuff
  click here for a "printer friendly" version

Forgiveness. By Martin Green.


Herb Adler stepped out of the shower, whistling. No doubt about it, although the trip had been worthwhile, in more ways than one, it felt good to be home. In his bathrobe, he went into the bedroom, where his wife Sara was holding one of his white handkerchiefs, which had a bright red lipstick mark on it.

He almost smacked himself on the head as he remembered. Brandi, Sandy, whatever her name was, the leggy blonde sales rep had planted a kiss on him when she’d taken him to her hotel room. He’d quickly rubbed it out with his handkerchief, then stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket, then, in the tumultuous activity that followed, he’d forgotten all about it. Now he was caught red-handed, or red-lipsticked It didn’t matter; he’d been incredibly stupid. The question was: could he get out of it?

“Anything to say?” asked Sara, holding up the evidence, exhibit A, he thought, if this was a court trial.

“It’s not what you think,” he said.

“What is it then?”

Herb’s mind raced frantically, like one of those clunky old calculators. “It was Doris. You know, our marketing VP. We’d gone way over our quarterly quota. She was so giddy she went around kissing everybody.”

“Doris? You must be kidding. That cold fish wouldn’t kiss anybody if she won a million dollar lottery.”

Damnit. He’d forgotten. Beth had met Doris at the last Christmas party. He’d have to come up with something else. “Okay. You’re right about Doris. But we did go over our quota. Everyone got a little drunk. We were celebrating, you know. This sales rep, she kissed me.”


“That’s all. I swear to it. She came on to me, but I said, ‘Nothing doing.’.”

“Herb, you sound so sincere. I know you’re lying. I called you at the hotel last night, late. You weren’t in your room.”

Herb sat down on the bed. “Maybe we fooled around a little bit. I told you, I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

“Uh, huh. Herb, I’m going to pack my suitcase. I’m going to my mother’s.”

“No, wait. Sara, you can’t do that.”

“Watch me.”

“Sara, you know I love you. Okay, I admit it. Maybe we went to bed. I really don’t remember. But I shouldn’t have gone to her room. I’m weak. I’m a no-good bastard. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Herb, this isn’t the first time. I’ve had enough.”

Herb stood up, then knelt in front of his wife. “Please, Sara, I’m begging you on my knees. I’ll never do it again. Please forgive me.”

Sara looked down at her husband. He looked so pitiful. And she knew what her mother would say. I told you so. “All right. I’ll forgive you one last time. But if you’re ever unfaithful again …”

“I won’t be. I swear.”

“All right. Get dressed. I’ll make breakfast.”

“Thanks, honey. You won’t be sorry.”

Sara left the room. As he got dressed, Herb thought about the next business trip coming up, in about two months. He wondered if the leggy blonde would be there.



Rate this story.

Copyright is reserved by the author. Please do not reproduce any part of this article without consent.


© Winamop 2010