Authors: Sherri Coner
“But if they don’t know how to do anything different, is it really their fault?” Chesney asked sheepishly. If Jack had a clitoral phobia, she shouldn’t be so judgmental of him. To be honest, no other sexual partners had floated her sexual boat any better than he did.
“Let’s see,” Now finished filing her fingernails, Becca placed her toes on the edge of the coffee table and began to expertly polish each toenail with a peachy brown color called Chocolate Shakespeare. “Guys can build engines to make race cars fly at 200 miles an hour. They can lift hundreds of pounds. They can talk about money, objectives, children, physics and politics. But you really don’t believe, Chesney, that a man can master the art of clitoral stimulation? You know why so many guys have a problem with that? It’s not only because they are too insecure to ask for directions. It’s also because they simply don’t
care.
Everything is all about them, inside and outside of the bedroom.”
Unwilling to tackle the sexual incompatibility just yet, Chesney filed the sexual information away for safekeeping. Instead, she focused on writing a new series she hoped to complete by spring. And when she felt bored to tears by Jack, she repeatedly reminded herself that she was dating one of the most successful bachelors in Chi-town. After all, Jack was the kind of charmer who ordered fine food for her, bought her beautiful dresses and reminded her sweetly when she needed to drop ten pounds from her thighs and ass.
On Memorial Day weekend, Chesney and Jack attended a picnic at the Blake home. While Charlotte waddled around very pregnant but radiant, Chesney watched, quietly envying her sister’s swollen belly filled with child. Even though she was not completely sold on the idea of marrying Jack, Chesney wanted a family. She wanted to identify her future. Somewhere under her heart, however, she knew Jack would make a lousy husband and a terrible father. She just wasn’t quite ready to admit those truths. She might be forced into that position though, if Jack actually proposed one day. If she refused the proposal, her parents would declare her incompetent. After all, they often seemed to prefer Jack’s company to hers. They boasted to friends that Jack knew pros at every golf club across the country. Jack had a small airplane. Jack had season tickets for the Bulls and Cubs games. Disappointing them by refusing a marriage proposal from Jack would be the black mark against Chesney that she wasn’t sure she could repair. So she continued to hope that Jack would never propose.
“Do you plan to date Jack for the rest of your life?” Charlotte snapped during the last trimester of her perfect pregnancy. “I don’t like this arrangement, Chesney. I think the guy has intimacy issues. You’re his arm candy.”
Amused and at least a little bit flattered that her sister would view short, flat-chested, red-headed Chesney as anyone’s arm candy made a laugh erupt between them.
“I don’t know why he hasn’t proposed,” Chesney said with a shrug. “We talk about getting married but…”
“But you’re going to date him until you’re old enough to qualify for Medicare?” Charlotte said. “Come on, Chesney, Jack is not in charge of your life. If you are ready to marry him, tell him so.”
“But I don’t want to give him ultimatums.”
“He doesn’t seem to mind stringing you along,” Charlotte said.
Chesney wanted Jack to drag his feet until there was a bottomless pit. She wasn’t interested in the aisle of bliss. Actually she was relieved that Jack never spoke of marriage, unless of course, her family was watching. She should have admitted to her sister that wedding talk resulted in diarrhea. But she said nothing. She knew that Charlotte would immediately blab whatever Chesney might be foolish enough to confess. So she continued to vacillate between two extremes. On some days, she fantasized that she could be like her mother and sister, her aunt Lana and every single female cousin. She fantasized about waking up one morning with a deep desire to be Jack’s wife. But the other side of her personality, Chesney continued to hope that Jack would never approach the subject. Sometimes she wanted to be a wife and mom. But Chesney had not yet met a man who could take away her fears of failure.
Shortly after driving across the state line between Illinois and Indiana, Chesney cracked the driver’s side window and shivered in the chilled breeze. Thoughts about April Fool’s Day drifted into her head. Jack was on one knee in front of the fireplace at Belle’s, his favorite restaurant. Trying to hide her terror, she watched as Jack tenderly placed the giant diamond on her hand. Then he kissed her mouth with two stiff lips and all of his front teeth and clai
m
ed his love.
Feeling like a trapped animal, Chesney stared down at the sparkling ring, trying to make herself be happy. But she also hoped that Jack would suddenly laugh and say it was all a joke, just an April Fool’s prank. But he didn’t. Damn it. He stared at her with a sappy smile and Chesney swallowed hard, trying to make peace with the fact that she was now officially stuck in the land of expectations. She had to be Jack’s wife. There was no turning back. Her family would hate her forever. Her mouth was so dry. Her throat felt like it was closing up. He was staring at her, expecting a big gush of emotions. Chesney reached deep for that feeling that absolutely was not there. But fearing that Jack would be hurt, she said it anyway.
“Love you, too,” She stared up at Jack through heavily mascared lashes.
But my parents love you a lot more than me.
I want a big wedding,” Jack said excitedly. “We’ll invite lots of family, all of my friends and colleagues, have a great reception with great food and music. Let’s get married in the winter. Then we can snow ski in Toronto for our honeymoon.”
Not once did he ask what his bride-to-be might like. Not once did Jack stop blabbing long enough to recall that Chesney detested cold weather and never left the bunny hill last winter when they met Jack’s friends in Aspen. While he skied, Chesney sneaked away to the hot tub at the resort and got soused on hot chocolate mixed with a lot of Bailey’s Irish Crème. When she didn’t respond, Jack changed direction.
“Oh course, another season is fine,” he said sweetly. “I really want winter. But if you’re really opposed to that idea, I can be flexible.”
“We have plenty of time to think about it,” Chesney had smiled. “We will want a long engagement, right? No need to rush into anything.”
“Well actually, I’m ready to marry,” Jack stood taller, puffed out his chest and grinned. “It will look great professionally for me to be married. It makes me look settled.”
“Yeah?” Chesney stared at him in disbelief. Jack wanted to be her husband because he looked better on paper? He grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
“Of course I want to marry you, Chesney Blake, because I love you so much. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You make my life complete.”
Gag.
“So do you like the ring?” Jack held up her hand and stared proudly at the honker diamond. “That stone is one of the most expensive. And for the wedding ceremony, I will get you the band with diamond insets.” He studied Chesney, looking confused. “Don’t you like the ring, Chez? You don’t seem to be excited.”
“Aw…well,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair. “This is a…a…a shock. You know? I guess I wasn’t prepared for it. I just didn’t see a proposal in my future.”
“Yes I really swept you off your feet, didn’t I?” Jack laughed.
“
Umm-humm
,” she nodded. “Something like that, yes.”
As they left the restaurant en route for Jack’s apartment, he continued to run his mouth about the wedding. Chesney closed her eyes, trying to create a believable escape plan.
“First we can have engagement sex,” Jack said the moment they entered his apartment. He grinned at Chesney as he unbuttoned a starchy white shirt to reveal a hairless chest. “And then after we have sex, we will call both sets of parents to share the news. How does that sound?” He took Chesney’s hand and playfully pulled her along, past the posh, contemporary furnishings of the living room to the massive bedroom. Jack flung himself across the king-size bed. “You won my heart, baby. I’m all yours.”
She stared at him, white belly and doughy arms. He was still wearing his pleated charcoal pants. Though he had kicked off the polished black loafers, Jack still wore the matching argyle socks. His erection tented the pleats around the crotch of his pants. And Chesney realized that she was lying to herself, to Jack, to her family. But she took another look at the beautiful engagement ring, unzipped her dress and allowed it to fall around her feet. The good part was, from past experiences, she already knew this activity would not require much of her time. Since Jack appeared to be so excited about the engagement, she estimated that intercourse would require less than ten minutes. That would mean she still had time to chat with her parents, with Charlotte and Cooper and Jack’s stuffy mother, and never miss a single minute of Dancing With the Stars.
Once the engagement was announced, Madelyn went into a frenzy. Several times, Chesney delayed the big event by stalling with flimsy excuses. But Madelyn and Jack finally steam rolled past her. They decided the date together. Planning the winter wedding of the decade, set for late February, became Madelyn’s reason for living. And the rest was history. Mustering the courage to tell her family the news of the broken engagement proved to be much more painful than Chesney anticipated. She still didn’t understand why it was so painful to find Jack handcuffed to furniture while Belinda rotated her big ass like a porn queen. She still didn’t understand why sometimes she still felt resentful and betrayed even though Jack was not at all her soul mate. She had decided to spare herself the embarrassment of telling her parents the truth: that she spent two years of her life with a man who never adored her unless, of course, he had an audience of relatives. Jack put Chesney last on his list of priorities. He cheated on her, too. And she wasted two precious years trying to love Jack the worm because her family loved him. Yet Chesney never told a soul, not even Becca, how grateful she felt when Jack cheated. Jack’s mistake gave her a tangible reason to skip the wedding, break the commitment and hit the trail again. Alone.
She rubbed her eyes, thinking hard.
“And yet I was not the one to break the engagement,” she said aloud. “It bothers me all the time, to admit that secret to myself. What in the world is wrong with me?” A lone tear drizzled down the side of Chesney’s face and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. “I tell everyone how much I want to be loved. But I pick the wrong man. I stay in relationships for the wrong reasons. And I stay a lot longer than I want to.”
With Becca’s help, Chesney made the dreaded calls to cancel the winter nuptials.
“Yes, Uncle Marve, I understand that you are very upset. Um hmm, I can see why you would question whether I have any respect at all for marriage.” “No Mrs. Galliger I would never dream of keeping the blender. Of course I will return it to you.”
Over and over again, Chesney dialed the telephone and braced herself for shame or rude comments. A couple of people even laughed. On the floor of Becca’s beautifully decorated condo near the river, she contacted and apologized to every single guest while Becca spoke to the DJ, the preacher, the wedding photographer and the chef to cancel two hundred chicken Marsala dinners for the reception. They drank beer and crunched popcorn while they made those calls. And by the time every name was crossed off the list, both women were more than a little bit tipsy.
“Admit that you are relieved about this,” Becca challenged as she drained the last Corona.
“How can I do that?” Chesney had laughed. “Don’t you know that my second cancelled wedding will very likely make me a damn orphan? Bec, I can’t even think yet about how to handle the stupid newspaper reports. They will slaughter me in the press. And Jack will love every minute.”
Chesney found it hard to believe but between February and mid-May, she had successfully survived hundreds of behind-her-back whispers about the failed wedding. She survived the ongoing criticism from her family about the move to southern Indiana. And here she was, moving. Making it happen. With the car packed, driving slightly faster than the speed limit, she was happily driving to Bean Blossom. She took a deep breath into her chest, the first one since the day she met Jack outside Crate & Barrel. With no comment, Chesney dropped the engagement ring into his palm and walked away.
When the heavily wooded two-lane road came into view, she smiled. When she turned left next to the nearly dilapidated mailbox, drove up the tree-lined road and started to cry when the house was finally visible, there was no doubt that she had made the right decision. In the silence, Chesney unloaded a duffle bag from the trunk and walked inside the empty massive home. Reminding herself that Grace wouldn’t step around the corner, wiping her hands on her favorite frilly apron only made the tears fall faster.
“Grace, I’m back,” Chesney whispered as she dropped the duffle bag near the stairs. She wandered slowly through the musty, dirty rooms. “I’m back to stay.” She kicked off her shoes, headed up the stairs in her stocking feet and changed into a T-shirt and shorts. On the way back downstairs, she tied her hair back in a messy blob and stepped outside on the back porch to think for awhile on the wobbly wooden step.
Quiet. It was deliciously silent. She studied the Black-eyed Susans peeking through the weeds by the massive weeping willow.