Everything is revealed…eventually.
Written By: Von Kambro © 2016
I never intend to keep a journal, but with all the chaos and wretched behavior of my friends, I felt I should keep track of the cavernous circumstances (more like exploits, really) they sometimes create and fall into. It seems they all have issues that lead, or are the basis for their intermittent indiscretions. It’s either a cheating husband, a cheating lover,(It does exist!) jealousy, over flirtatiousness, the drugs, the parties, the infatuations…whatever life drips from its less virtuous brew, always lands into my friends cups, and they drink it with vigor.
And after they drink the tainted brew of fate, I will be there. To hold their hand and listen, but it always starts off with the same line: “Mel, we need to talk.” The only one that spells out my name completely is Wenn, but her opener is a little different: “Melissa. I need to talk.”
I really don’t have anyone to share these things with. I will not share all the details with my husband, but he knows some things. I will tell him things that a girl can say to let a man know what she wants him to know- without revealing all the details. Men really aren’t detail oriented, especially when it comes too speech, so we can talk and give information without telling the required facts to them.
I always tell my husband Brent that women are the Archaeologists of speech. We dig until we uncover what we’re looking for. Men or more like, well, like dogs. They just kind of scratch the surface or dig a hole looking for something that might be there.
(Note to self: Okay Melissa, let’s put the metaphors away.)
I’m the type of person that seems to have the perfect life. I guess it is for the most part. My husband has a great career and I’ve been able to stay at home with my children and not have to worry about too much other than waking them up so they don’t miss the school bus, or making a mad dash to the school to deliver off last night’s crazy round of homework assignment completion.
Society might title me as old fashioned…maybe even a kept wife, but there isn’t a harder job in the world than raising children full time. All day, every day. No breaks. (Try that Miss Nine to five.) At least you can get away from sick kids, the homework, the housework, the yard work, etc.
It’s always something.
I think whoever wrote that “through sickness and health” garb most likely was a man because they must’ve been referring to children. (Okay, men are grown children.)
Why do women need to give into the social prerogative of giving up who they are just because some college professor has determined that women need to be more like men in order to be more like women? And this is where my friends and I often collide, but it’s also the reason why my life might be more stable compared to theirs.
All I know is that women don’t need to be anything they don’t want to be, or are told they should be.
Where do I begin? Or should say: Who do I begin with?
Chelsye? The tall, blonde haired, big boobed (fake), soccer mom?
Andree’? The fiery, red haired vixen that takes no prisoners?
Haley? The auburn haired, green eyed jealousy queen?
Wenn? The flirty, secretive, seductress?
My four best friends, so different, but so similar, and two of them are intertwined, but don’t even know about it. God forbid if they ever read this.
I guess I can start with Wenn. I talk with her the most. We often share coffee at her house on Wednesday mornings. That’s her day of reprieve, and our moment of indulgence. Wenn and I have known each other since high school. She’s so beautiful. Wenn’s Polynesian heritage is evident with her perfectly toned skin, long black silky hair. She has a warm smile and charming personality which make her a delight to be with, but she has secrets.
We all have them.
Wenn’s secrets are peculiar to say the least.
She’s so beautiful that when she walks down a street, or an aisle in the store, okay-ANYWHERE- men can’t resist staring at her. She’s never reluctant to flirt back with a shy smile, or if the guy is hot, a wink and a smile, or what she refers to as a “winmil.” Wenn is definitely a flirt and she loves being that way. It’s just a part of who she is. She has that air of being faithful to her husband, but I’ve often wondered if she hasn’t used some of her flirting and redefined what being faithful really is.
As we sat at the table and made our usual round of griping about the kid’s teachers, shopping, drivers and how everything is overpriced, Wenn showed me something on her cell phone.
It was a picture of her standing next to a very large, muscular, (very attractive) African American man. She was squeezing his bulging bicep with both of her hands.
As I looked at the stud with his flexed arm and my friend that was excitedly squeezing part of his impressively toned body, Wenn sighed as she slid the phone back to her side of the table. She kept her focus on the picture as she talked about how big and developed this man was. She felt scared and safe at the same time while she stood next to him.
She kept staring at the picture while I tried to withdraw information from her. The only time she looked up at me is when I asked if she squeezed anything else? She looked up and smiled. Wenn has her secrets, and I know that she has done “things” and claims to be faithful, but I’ve never been able to get a confession out of her. She said that she will divulge all the necessary information when the time is right.
None the less, I know Wenn is more than a flirt. She reveals her secrets to me without words, but being the “Archeologist” I always keep digging and searching for the truth. Wenn is my ongoing project. She has a history that waits to be discovered, but it will take awhile before her history reveals itself.
Careful planning and excavation is what is needed with her. I wait for that day when she spills it all out and tells me everything. The anticipation is excruciating, but I can wait. I’ll probably be able to take notes and end up writing a best seller based on her exploits!
I’m staring at the clock and I can’t believe its 12:30 a.m. I’ve got to wake the kids up in six more hours, but before that, prepare breakfast! Nine to Five my ass! Right now I wouldn’t mind waking up at seven, putting on make-up, taking a warm shower and strut into some office and have a few men flirt with me while and gout too lunch and sit outside for lunch and watch the muscular, tattooed, dirty, rough, construction guys pound on the cold hard steel beams and eventually shape them into beautiful, tall buildings. Watching them work, they’re muscles stressed, listening to them swear as they get more pissed off at something that doesn’t fit quite right…whew.
Calm down girl. Calm down.
Brent is going to have a naughty wake up call.
This is Wenn’s fault.
Thank you, Wen.
"Naked Wives" is a collection of journal entries set-up in short story format. The journal belongs to Melissa Brandess. She is a stay at home mom with a stable marriage, but she has some sultry, and adventurous tales to tell, but they belong to her friends. She begins to keep a journal of her friends confessions as they reveal them to her. Melissa's life is tame compared to her friend s exploits, but she has moments of weakness as well that begin to surface as she retells her friends moments of wild abandon. "Mel" as some of friends call her is the one person they confide in, and she keeps their secrets to herself, but as she begins to write them down she can't help but become pulled into their lives. She secretly lives out their wild escapades without ever telling them. Will her husband ever know? will her friends ever realize that she has secrets of her own? Naked Wives-when these married women confess...everything is revealed.