The Girlfriend

Jennifer has been my wife’s best friend now for more years than I can count. The funny thing is, I have never laid eyes on her. It’s not as weird as it sounds, because my wife and her are also co-workers, and Kim, that’s my wife, has always tried to keep work separate from her homelife. Another thing is, Jen lives about as far in the other direction from the office as we do, so stopping by after work is inconvenient for both of them. Of course, I hear about Jen almost every night at the dinner table when Kim talks about her day at work.

That’s why when Kim told me that Jen was coming over on the weekend and wanted to let me know that she would probably be spending the night, because the two of them planned on getting totally shit-faced, and Kim didn’t want her to even consider driving home, I had to agree that was smart thinking on their part and she was more than welcome to stay. So, not wanting to be a third wheel, I made plans to go out and toss a few back myself.

When Saturday night rolled around, I found out that I no longer have the ability to pound them down like I used to. I got drunk, tired, and bloated before midnight.

When I got home, I could hear the girls in the family room laughing hysterically and having a good time, so I bypassed them and went straight to bed.

Come Sunday morning, as I got to the bathroom, the door was wide open, and there was Kim’s friend Jen, on her knees in front of the throne. The sounds of her retching were enough to make anyone feel like joining in. I quickly departed for the downstairs bathroom.

By the time I showered and got dressed, the girls were sitting at the kitchen table, not looking so hot. I poured myself a cup of coffee and joined them.

Kim mumbled through the introductions, “Mike, this is Jen, Jen, this is Mike.”

I looked over at Jen and asked if everything had come out all right earlier.

Slowly, Jen lifted her head and looked at me. She had a blank stare on her face and muttered, “Oh, fuck,” and then put her head back down. I reached my hand under her chin and lifted her face back up.

“Jen, is that really you? Oh, my God. How long’s it been, like fifteen, sixteen years?”

Kim gave me the old inquisitive ‘what are you talking about’ look, and said, “What do you mean by that?”

“Jen and I used to hang out, long before you and I met. Seems like a million years ago now.”

“Really,” Kim responded. “After all these years of working together, I find out that you are one of my husband’s old girlfriends. So, Jen, how long has it been exactly?”

“Sixteen years, to be exact,” Jen said.

“Just like that, you remember?” I asked.

Jen nodded her head.

Kim glared at Jen; I could see the wheels turning in her head.

“Jen, didn’t you tell me your son is about to have his sixteenth birthday soon?”

Again, Jen nodded her head.

Kim then turned and stared at me. I responded with a dumbass, “What?”

“You don’t see it?

“What?” I repeated.

“You two were dating sixteen years ago, and her son is turning sixteen.” Kim turned her attention to Jen and said, “Anything you want to add to this conversation?”

“Nope,” she said.

“Okay then,” Kim said, “I’m just going to come out and ask the obvious question: Is your son Mike’s?”

Jen leaped from her chair and ran for the sink. She made it just in time before the puking started again. Once she calmed down, Jen returned to the table.

“I’m sorry. I never made the connection. Why would I? Mike is such a common name. Why would I ever think that your Mike was…” Her voice stopped abruptly without actually saying that her son was mine.

I looked over at Kim. “I could say the same thing, you know. There are three million Jennifers in this world.” Then I looked over at Jen. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Mike, we had already parted ways when I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t want to burden you with a kid after you made it quite clear that you didn’t want to be with me.”

“I could have helped.”

“I didn’t want you to stay with me out of an unwanted obligation. Besides, I’ve done just fine on my own. I think my son has turned out to be a fine young man.”

Kim nodded to Jen and said, “Go ahead, tell him.”

Jen seemed to know what Kim meant by that, but I felt clueless and sat and waited for someone to say something.

“Alright then, I’ll tell him. Jen named her son Michael, now I know why.”