Anthony “Fergie” Ferguson is a loner, a porn addict, a video game aficiondado, and a stalker. In other words, Fergie is pretty much an average all-American young man. Writer Chris DeBrie’s “Please Forward My Mail” is a novel in serial form, written scene by scene.

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At the reunion in September, he saw her. Sat through a video presentation to the 9/11 events. It was an unforgettable senior moment, said the voiceover. “Duh!” someone loudly whispered. Ten minutes later, they were making out in his Jeep…

Cheating without the pain? Was it possible? Let’s see.

They began a series of meetings. Fifteen years and worth the wait. She was on location for her news reporting at least once a week. Hotels. Out of town rendezvous. Paying cash for pretty much everything, to avoid trails. That was four months ago. He occasionally felt weird that he was essentially sharing a woman with another man he had never met. ‘Well, if she stops with him, it’s a bad look,’ he’d rationalized.

But she described how Brad had his suspicions. ‘Are you cheating, Daciana?’

‘You don’t trust me.’

‘I’m just asking.’

‘You know I’d never cheat on you.’

They spent a weekend last week living out of a hotel room together. A tenth date anniversary of sorts.

Tacos and enchiladas. “You really like Mexican food, don’t you?” she said.

She had put together an mp3 playlist that included some songs from their high school days.  When I go to hell/please forward my mail.

Ordered in meals from every takeout place within three blocks. Just for variety.

Lots of us thought you were cool in high school.

He scoffed. Yea, right. I didn’t think I was.

They couldn’t get enough of each other. And she waited until they were leaving, until he was walking back to his car with a smile on his face as usual, to tell him that it was over.

What? Why?

          Me and Brad are getting closer, Ferg. We were having problems and now things are so much better.

          How could you spend two days with me like this, and…

          She didn’t answer.

          I thought you said… you were growing apart or whatever. You say that all the time.

          I know. I KNOW.

          Daciana. You know… you… know how I feel about you. I always felt that way. And now you got us here.

          I know, Fergie.

But somehow Brad got wind that Daciana was wanted by someone else. Other men desiring her was a given… but something about the way she acted must have shocked him out of complacency. Must have alerted him that his suspicions had some weight.

He wanted her back and then won her back. Or, if she had quoted Brad correctly, “Maybe I made a mistake, letting you go.” MAYBE. SHE WAS GOING BACK TO THAT POOT BUTT ON THE STRENGTH OF A ‘MAYBE’.

The final kick was that Brad went to the same church as Bobbo. Talk about insult to injury.

 

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