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Charles Winfield at age 55 served on the city council as a member for the city of Poseidon for the last eight years and enjoyed the respect and benefits that the position brought him. When he went anywhere in the county, someone recognized him. As much as it seemed a joy, there were times when he wished he could go places and not be recognized. He always thought of himself as a fortunate man. His wife allowed him the freedom to do the things she didn't like to do, such as golf and fish. He did not have to account for his time. He sometimes believed she was happy to see him go without her.
His wife, Eleanor, also big in local politics, served on many committees and belonged to several women's organizations. As a couple, they were highly respected. Charles did have one vice that Eleanor and his constituency did not know about. He was passionately in love with a hooker. He was obsessed over her and wanted to see her whenever he could. He did not like the fact that other men used her, but in some ways, that was okay, because he wouldn't know what to do with her on a full time basis.
He sat behind his desk at city hall speechless after reading the morning newspaper. His secretary came up to him and asked him if he was okay.
"No, I think I need to get some fresh air."
He had to talk to Kristy right now. He left his office, went to his car and called her number. This must be her business phone and had no other way of reaching her. A recording indicated the number as disconnected.
He thought about going by the place where she lived, but he followed her after one of their sessions, no matter how unprofessional it seemed. Curiosity being his motive. Now he wished he didn't know. He had to know if she was okay. He had to talk to her. He was late for a meeting and headed back to his office. It was hard concentrating. The meeting was between himself and the chief project engineer for the city and the mayor. A group of citizens was contesting a major road project and he needed to attend and keep his thoughts together.
As hard as he tried, he could not concentrate on the conversation around him. The mayor turned to Charles and said "Charles, you do not look well. Would you rather we put this discussion off for another day?"
"I hate to admit it, mayor, but I am feeling under the weather. I think I will go home. Let's try this again on Wednesday morning." They agreed and dismissed the meeting.
Charles did not go home as discussed. He parked his car down the block from Kristy's residence. He sat for twenty minutes when it occurred to him that the papers mentioned her little black book. His heart started racing. No, Eleanor can't find out. What if that list goes public? "Oh Kristy, where are you. I have to talk to you. I can't take this suspense." He was talking aloud to himself. After another hour and there was no activity at her place, he started the car and headed home.
What would he do if Eleanor found out? He needed to have a plan.
Thoughts of ‘what if's' raced through his mind. Then the pains started. First, it was in his left arm, it traveled to his chest and into his throat. He couldn't breathe; it was only a couple more blocks to his house, he could make it, but he didn't. He became faint and stooped forward until he passed out and ran the stop sign and hit a motorcyclist.
Eleanor got the phone call from a friend who volunteered at the hospital. She rushed to the hospital to find her husband had a heart attack and was in ICU. A police officer stood by filling out paperwork. She introduced herself and asked for an update on her husband.
"Mrs. Winfield, I am sorry about your husband, but you need to know that in the process of the heart attack and the accident that ensued, he struck a motorcyclist who is also in the hospital and in critical condition. It is too soon to know what his condition will be, but I understand he's still in surgery.
"Oh no, is there anything I can do at this point?"
"No, we have to wait and see. I understand your husband is going into surgery within the hour. Here comes the doctor. Maybe he'll have some news for you." The police officer finished his paperwork and left.
"Mrs. Winfield, I am Dr. Barnes, your husband is still unconscious. Not only did he have a heart attack, he has some internal bleeding from the impact of the accident. We will be going into surgery soon."
"Can I see him?" Eleanor pleaded.
"Yes, but only for a moment. He will not be able to hear you."
"Thank you, doctor." She entered his room and walked to his bedside. He looked so pale and so old, she thought.
Charles was unconscious and could not hear anything she said. However, she felt she had to say it anyway.
"My dear Charles, I wish we could have been more open with each other over the years, but I want to let you know now, and I will tell you again when you wake up. I knew about Kristy from the start. I am so sorry that you felt you could not tell me about your needs but I guess some people need to have a private corner in their mind that doesn't belong to anyone else. I never minded you're seeing her. Our life together was always amiable. You have seen that I always got what I wanted. At least you kept your pleasures quiet and didn't drag me through the publicity. I don't know what this news article is going to do for our privacy now, what it is going to do to our public life, especially you. The mayor is not going to be happy. That is supposing the infamous little black book goes public. I will always love you, no matter what happens."
Eleanor left the room and walked down to the nurses' station. They were all busy with something so she waited. An aide finally addressed her and asked if she could be of assistance
"Yes, I understand my husband was in the accident with a motorcyclist. Would it be possible to know that person's name and how he is doing."
The aide did not know, but she took the time to look it up.
"His name is Sidney Moore! He's still in surgery on the 4th floor, but that is all I can tell you."
She thanked the women and took the elevator to the fourth floor. She again addressed an aide at the nurses' station and told the way to the surgical waiting room was to the right and down the hall. She entered the room to the sounds of children playing and women sobbing. People filled the waiting room. She seemed to fade into the woodwork as she observed a young woman sobbing uncontrollably in the arms of another much older woman.
Eleanor did not say a word. She watched and overheard the conversations around her and she knew that Sydney Moore did not survive the accident.