laundry.
It was July 8 when Debora left for St. Louis. Leaving six-year-old Kelly alone in the house with a sleeping Tim, Mike went to see Celeste. Debora was furious. “We had brought some things home for her [Celeste] in our luggage, and he went over there—and left the children alone, left Kelly alone with no one to supervise her,” she said tightly. And, she insisted, her husband wasted little time that day.
Mike did, in fact, go to Celeste’s home in Overland Park that hot July 8 to deliver some souvenirs and artifacts of hers. “Everyone fit stuff into their suitcases where they could,” Celeste said, “and we figured out what belonged to who later.” She thought Mike might also have brought some photographs that he had had developed in a one-hour camera shop.
Whatever the reason for his visit, the end result was the same: on that day, in her home, Celeste and Mike began an affair. Mike had felt the same pull toward Celeste that she had toward him, although their behavior in Peru had been completely circumspect. They had never even spoken of how they felt, not until that moment; Celeste had assumed that Mike had no interest in her. But now, as Celeste showed him her backyard, it was apparent to both of them that they wanted more than friendship. “I could see it in his eyes, too,” she said.
Their coming together as lovers immediately produced the need for secrecy and subterfuge—more so than most affairs. Those who had gone to Peru had become friends, and there would be parties and get-togethers all summer. Celeste and John and Debora and Mike would be thrown together frequently; it was not as though either had begun an affair with a stranger. It probably would have been better if they had.
Their affair was not a matter of stealing away to motels, although it was sexual. Nor did they see each other alone that much; they were lucky to meet two or three times a week. Even then, sometimes they just parked their cars and talked. “It wasn’t often [that they met],” Celeste said. “He had to go home, and I had to be with my family…. Mostly, we just talked a lot.” Their affair was one of sharing, of many, many phone calls to touch base, to hear kind words, to make quick promises that were almost impossible to keep. Within a matter of days, Mike had told Celeste that he found her the perfect woman, so beautiful, the woman he had been looking for. She had wanted to hear that for so long, it was easy for her to believe.
And Celeste would later say that she thought no one would ever have suspected that she and Mike were having an affair. “We were that discreet.”
It wasn’t easy. The Peru gang spent a lot of time together that summer of 1995. Kansas City’s Fourth of July fireworks had been postponed because of inclement weather; now many of the travelers went to see the delayed show. “John was there, and my mother, and sons, and Mike and Deb. I’m not sure if Tim was,” Celeste recalled. “And Carolyn and Laura Sutherland…. I really liked these people and so I called them and tried to get a bunch of them together for the fireworks.”
Celeste threw an all-adult party on July 15, inviting Carolyn Stafford, Mike and Debora, and some other people from the trip. When it got dark, they showed slides of Peru in the backyard. Celeste had talked on the phone about it with both Debora and Mike.
On the last weekend of July, Celeste also threw a backyard barbecue and pool party, meant to be a trip reunion. Again, Mike and Debora came. Debora talked pleasantly enough to Celeste, who believed she had no idea that anything was going on.
There was no question that both Celeste and Mike wanted their fledgling affair to continue. The encouragement and affection—and, yes, the sexual fire—that Mike got from Celeste made his marriage seem all the more bleak in comparison. He had been waiting for seven months to tell Debora that their marriage wasn’t working, that he truly wanted his freedom. He was
It was July 8 when Debora left for St. Louis. Leaving six-year-old Kelly alone in the house with a sleeping Tim, Mike went to see Celeste. Debora was furious. “We had brought some things home for her [Celeste] in our luggage, and he went over there—and left the children alone, left Kelly alone with no one to supervise her,” she said tightly. And, she insisted, her husband wasted little time that day.
Mike did, in fact, go to Celeste’s home in Overland Park that hot July 8 to deliver some souvenirs and artifacts of hers. “Everyone fit stuff into their suitcases where they could,” Celeste said, “and we figured out what belonged to who later.” She thought Mike might also have brought some photographs that he had had developed in a one-hour camera shop.
Whatever the reason for his visit, the end result was the same: on that day, in her home, Celeste and Mike began an affair. Mike had felt the same pull toward Celeste that she had toward him, although their behavior in Peru had been completely circumspect. They had never even spoken of how they felt, not until that moment; Celeste had assumed that Mike had no interest in her. But now, as Celeste showed him her backyard, it was apparent to both of them that they wanted more than friendship. “I could see it in his eyes, too,” she said.
Their coming together as lovers immediately produced the need for secrecy and subterfuge—more so than most affairs. Those who had gone to Peru had become friends, and there would be parties and get-togethers all summer. Celeste and John and Debora and Mike would be thrown together frequently; it was not as though either had begun an affair with a stranger. It probably would have been better if they had.
Their affair was not a matter of stealing away to motels, although it was sexual. Nor did they see each other alone that much; they were lucky to meet two or three times a week. Even then, sometimes they just parked their cars and talked. “It wasn’t often [that they met],” Celeste said. “He had to go home, and I had to be with my family…. Mostly, we just talked a lot.” Their affair was one of sharing, of many, many phone calls to touch base, to hear kind words, to make quick promises that were almost impossible to keep. Within a matter of days, Mike had told Celeste that he found her the perfect woman, so beautiful, the woman he had been looking for. She had wanted to hear that for so long, it was easy for her to believe.
And Celeste would later say that she thought no one would ever have suspected that she and Mike were having an affair. “We were that discreet.”
It wasn’t easy. The Peru gang spent a lot of time together that summer of 1995. Kansas City’s Fourth of July fireworks had been postponed because of inclement weather; now many of the travelers went to see the delayed show. “John was there, and my mother, and sons, and Mike and Deb. I’m not sure if Tim was,” Celeste recalled. “And Carolyn and Laura Sutherland…. I really liked these people and so I called them and tried to get a bunch of them together for the fireworks.”
Celeste threw an all-adult party on July 15, inviting Carolyn Stafford, Mike and Debora, and some other people from the trip. When it got dark, they showed slides of Peru in the backyard. Celeste had talked on the phone about it with both Debora and Mike.
On the last weekend of July, Celeste also threw a backyard barbecue and pool party, meant to be a trip reunion. Again, Mike and Debora came. Debora talked pleasantly enough to Celeste, who believed she had no idea that anything was going on.
There was no question that both Celeste and Mike wanted their fledgling affair to continue. The encouragement and affection—and, yes, the sexual fire—that Mike got from Celeste made his marriage seem all the more bleak in comparison. He had been waiting for seven months to tell Debora that their marriage wasn’t working, that he truly wanted his freedom. He was
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