Jen Knows

"What?" my wife asked when she saw my face.

"That...that's kind of...risqué," I stammered.

She laughed. "It's a country concert, what do you think girls wear?" she asked.

"Guys...guys will..."

"Drew is going to be there," she said, "you think anyone will mess with me if I'm on his arm?"

"Drew...you're going with Drew?"

"Yea, I told you, remember?"

"I...I thought you were going with Jen?"

"Jen's going," she said, "we're all going in a van; Jen and her boyfriend, me and Drew, and two other couples."

"They...Jen...Jen will think Drew's...that he's your date."

"Hon, Jen knows."

"Knows? Knows what?"

"Knows, knows," she said.

"Jen know? How...how does Jen know?" I stammered, wondering how I was ever going to be around her again.

"She's my best friend, of course she knows about my dating life."

"She knows you're dating him?"

She nodded. 

"But she'll think you're having an affair," I said, thinking how awkward that would be.

"She knows you know, baby."

"Since when?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Since I started dating him. She's my best friend."

I thought about it, all the funny looks Jen gave me. "She knows?"

"She thinks it's cute that you let me date. Listen, don't worry, Drew will take care of me, I promise."

"Jen knows?"

"She's always known, baby."