My adventures with Adam didn't end with our first meeting (To catch up, read Wrong Number, Right Man - Part 1 and Wrong Number, Right Man - Part 2.) He continued to call every Saturday afternoon for the next several months. Sometimes we would just chat for 30 minutes or so, and sometimes he would tell me to meet him at our spot at the river for some naughtier fun.
Then one week, for no reason that I know of, the Saturday afternoon call didn't come. The next week there was no call either. Or the next week. Or the next. It was about a month before I stopped arranging my Saturdays make sure I was home for his call.
I fully expected never to see or hear from him again, but one hot August day three years ago I was at the fair with my family. We were back in the livestock area so my youngest could see the animals when I heard that familiar, unmistakable voice. I turned around in time to see him lifting and moving a bale of hay, talking to his teenage son. The beard was gone, but he looked much the same except for that. He was there with his two boys and his wife, who was pushing a stroller with a toddler in it. Apparently, we both had added a child to our families since we last saw each other. His wife was a beautiful woman, much prettier than me, with long blond hair, a gorgeous figure, and green eyes that matched his.
He must have seen me while I was admiring his wife because I heard, "Can that be Kat?" I turned and caught his eye and we smiled at each other as everyone in both families looked at me.
"Long time, no see," I said.
He excused himself from his family for a moment and came over to the side of barn where I was standing with my husband and kids. He put his hand out to shake my husband's hand firmly and he introduced himself. "I'm Adam. Kat and I have done fundraising work together." I marveled at how smooth he was. Clearly he had practiced this or he had done it before. Could anybody just be that smooth and lie so easily naturally? After some introductions and polite niceties, he returned to his family.
I tried to pretend I was really interested in those animals as my youngest asked question after question about them. A few minutes later, I saw Adam put one arm around his wife and grab the stroller with the other hand, and start to leave the barn. He stopped and paused for a moment, and then he turned and said, "Hey Kat! I'll give you a call next Saturday." And then he was gone.
The following Saturday, at a very familiar time, the phone rang. By this time, we had caller ID and I recognized the number and answered quickly. I heard his deep, sexy voice say, "Well, hello, ma'am. Is Joe available?"
I'd love to be able to tell you that our affair picked up right where it had left off, but that's not the case. I had taken a break from prowling, and I was trying very hard to be faithful to my husband for several years (you all know how that worked out, but hey, I tried). Adam and I enjoyed several nice Saturday phone calls over the next year, including some pretty hot phone sex, but by the following summer we had drifted apart. I haven't spoken with him since then.
I remember him fondly, though, whenever I drive by the river and whenever I get a wrong number phone call. Sometimes the wrong number is exactly the right number.