Busted!

Rake: noun. One devoted to a life of sensual pleasure; a debauchee; usually a man who is morally unrestrained; a Roue.

 

 

*****

That word was used to describe a friend of my brother's a long time ago, Kevin. Before I learned that, a 'rake' was a tool for gathering up fallen leaves. He was a rake alright, and a good one too. He was one of these guys who fell on the Earth with natural good looks, an affable manner and if girls were close to him, you could nearly hear their ovaries rattling. He used these talents to schtup as many of these women as he could.

Well, Kevin became fairly successful managing a bond desk for a large financial interest in downtown Providence. He found “the” girl and got married. Portia (no joke, that was her first name) was a professor who taught at Brown University's Alpert School of Medicine and they settled into the upper middle class life. A few kids came along the way eventually too. They lived off Blackstone Blvd in a Tudor style house that wasn't garish at all. In fact, it was one of the smaller homes you'd see over there. It was a nicely kept, cozy home surrounded by high English gardens that hid it from the street.

From outward appearances, it all looked stable and perfect.

Once again, my estimation of people was clouded by the fact I didn't know the entire story.

I was invited, just once, to one of their brunches. They held these brunches every Sunday and it was Kevin and Portia's family and one from down the street. I was the new addition that day.

The visiting family included a pretty sixteen year old girl, a boy of about twenty who was home from college and their Dad. Dad was this nearly too loud, gregarious sort who I found out was a managing salesman for a pharmaceutical company. I watched him, in front of everyone there, comically and jokingly poke fun at his son for not having the cutest girlfriend that could be had at Rutgers. That degenerated into Dad busting his son's balls for not having a girl friend at all. I thought this kind of cruel and began wondering about these “near rich” people. The son would parry his Dad's not so hidden insults with, “Dad, I'm too busy with classes for that!” No matter, you could tell his Dad thought his son should always be on the Dean's List, a Letterman for some team, and have the prettiest girl as well. I guess the son wasn't interested in being a god damn number one success in everything he did.

But that display wasn't what struck me.

I caught Kevin, staring at this guy's sixteen year old daughter. It was one of those hypnotic stares, a hungry stare a guy will give when he sees a pretty girl. She was a pretty girl. She had a dewy appearance about her, and a healthy does of innocence as well. Kevin locked onto her and wouldn't let go.

The young girl was oblivious to it. She kept eating her food, jumped into the conversation as she did and remained unaware of Kevin's drooling. Kevin, by the way, was 43 years old.

I kept darting my eyes to Kevin, then to her and back to Kevin to watch this show. Also, I wanted to see if this young girl would catch on. She didn't. As I was watching this, I then felt someone looking at me. I looked up and as saw that Portia, Kevin's wife who was standing against a wall near the table, was watching me watch her husband. She then darted her eyes away and lo and behold, her avoidance of me betrayed it all. She knew that I knew her husband was eating up this young girl with his eyes.

This scene confirmed an earlier conversation I had about Kevin with Portia. I told her that Kevin, along with a girl I knew a long time ago, Kelly, were the only two I've known that were masters when it came to social situations. Either one could walk into a room of strangers and in about five minutes, lead them all, be well liked and have the room rapt upon them. These two were that good. These were social butterflies who finally gained a Ph.D.

Portia sighed and commented, “Yeah...Kevin is very social.

I guess Kevin never did stop being a rake. I wonder how many other women he had while being married the entire time?

See what happens when you get the facts? Your initial conclusions about people can be way off! I thought this family was happy and successful. I guess there was more to be found once you peeled away that Boston Ivy that grew halfway up their house to see underneath! The English gardens, the wonderful careers, the right cars and all the other superficial trappings don't tell you the whole story.

I was never invited back. I guess Portia wasn't too keen on my learning anything else about the family.