“Ricky, I didn’t think life would be this short. But I have to make peace with God’s will.”
I looked at the rosary beads on her dresser, amazed that even this couldn’t shake her faith.
“And you know I’ve been trying not to say too much about your situation, because you have to work it out yourself.”
She scratched my chin with her bony fingers and smiled.
“You’re a smart, successful man now. And I know you’ll do the right thing. But I have to speak my mind while I still can.”
I waited.
“I could be wrong. And I don’t want you to feel guilty about whatever you decide. But I need to tell you that I believe you and Beth should be together.”
I lifted a hand and opened my mouth and then realized I had to give her this. How could I not?
“I know I’m no expert because my marriage was a terrible failure. And I’m sorry you and Kelly had to grow up watching that failure every day. I’ll never know if I did the right thing by staying with your father, but at the time, I thought it was best for you.”
She inhaled with a raspy wheezing sound.
“So maybe I didn’t have a good marriage, but I’ve seen a few in my day. My parents, for example, they were devoted to each other for over fifty years before the Lord took my mother. And they were happy. But it wasn’t perfect. They fought sometimes. And I never thought I’d tell you this, but a long time ago, I found a journal of my mother’s. In it, she confessed to an affair with a neighbor while my father was serving time in the military. I hated her for it when I first found it. I threw it in her face and screamed and yelled. But when she explained how lonely she was and how she was all alone for months as a newlywed nineteen-year-old, and how this young man took her to dances and sung to her, I could understand, a little. And since then, I’ve seen so much that I just can’t hold on to my old rigid attitudes about right and wrong. I see the beauty of our human imperfection, the necessity of it, in fact.”
I hadn’t told her about Beth’s affair. She didn’t know why we were separated, other than that we were fighting. Had she overheard something? Or did mothers just have a way of knowing without ever being told?
“Mom, I love Beth. I love her so much it hurts. It’s killing me that we’re apart. But she has so many issues. She, she said things to me that I can’t forget. And I have my issues too. I need to figure things out for myself before I can figure out if we can make it work. It’s so complicated.”
She rubbed my forearm and smiled in a way that made me feel like I was ten again. Like I was mad at my best friend for some silly reason and she was trying to get me to see that it wasn’t really important.
“You know I love you, Ricky, with all my heart. But you can be too hard-headed at times. I remember when poor Kelly wouldn’t follow the schedule you set up for feeding the dog and taking out the trash. She kept missing her times and you were furious. You didn’t speak to her for a week.”
I hung my head down, remembering the many times I made my poor little sister miserable for not conforming to my attempts to control her.
“I know. I know how I am,” I conceded. “But I’ve changed. I’ve gotten a lot more relaxed about things.”
“That’s right, you have sweetie. And who would you say has helped you to do that more than anyone?”
“Beth. Definitely, Beth.”
“Exactly.”
IT WAS SO HARD
to focus on anything Shelly said during our lunch at the sandwich shop near her house. But she understood. She knew how difficult it would be for me to focus on anything except my date with Dave that night. Being with her was comforting though.
“So you still don’t think you’ll confront him until after you have the baby?”
“Yeah, and not for a while after. I’ll need his help.”
I hadn’t had the courage to ask yet, but couldn’t hold out another minute.
“I’m kind of worried because, well, if he’s having sex with her and he’s having sex with you, you could, you know, catch something.”
She laughed, and I didn’t know why, but it was a relief nonetheless.
“Ahhh, I get why you’d be worried about that. But it’s not an issue.”
“What does that mean? How can it not be an issue?”
“Because we’re not having sex.” She said it with such a matter of fact air that I felt stupid for not having considered the possibility.
“Look at me! I’m huge, swollen, exhausted. He doesn’t try very often and when he does, I have plenty of excuses to choose from. And he knows he has to wait for at least six weeks after the baby, so that’ll buy me more time.”
I didn’t like it that there was no sign of Shelly’s situation being resolved in the near future, because I had heard of marriages going on this way for years. Her reasons made sense though, just as Jill’s reasons for ending her marriage and committing to celibacy for the first year of her recovery made sense.
“So, back to your date,” she directed.
“I thought you didn’t approve,” I asked, hoping to be wrong.
“I don’t! But I can’t stop it from happening. So I may as well hear about it. And I guess fair is fair, since Rick is going out with that awful woman, Wendy, tonight too, right?”
I felt bad for making her out to be such a villain. In truth, I knew very little about her.
“Oh, she’s probably not that bad. I actually have no good reason not to like her. She visits Lucy all the time, bringing her soup and magazines.”
Thinking of Lucy stirred a pang of guilt.
I looked at Shelly and questioned whether it was healthy for her to have gotten so big. She tried to hide it under a cute peach and white maternity sweater with black leggings and boots, but she looked to be much closer to her due date than she was. There was no way I could mention this, though it would be understandable if she were using food for comfort, given the catch-22 she was in. I wanted to think she had slain that dragon for good, but was starting to learn that nothing was ever that simple.
“You know, I have this weird feeling that Rick is hiding something from me about Lucy’s cancer. When I ask him how she’s doing or what the doctors say, his answers are evasive. It’s been over two months since her diagnosis and there’s no talk of surgery or chemo, so I’ve been assuming that means she’s stable and there’s no urgency, but sometimes I feel like I’m missing something.”
“That does seem strange. Have you seen her lately?”
“No. We’ve only talked on the phone. She doesn’t sound good. She wants me to visit and I’ve been meaning to, I just… I feel so bad about the whole situation, you know?”
“She really wants the two of you to get back together, huh?”
“I know she talks to Rick about it a lot. He tries to tell her we’re working on things. She doesn’t know we’re both going on dates with other people tonight, thank God.”
“How are things between you and Rick?”
I looked away and stuffed down the giddy feeling that rose up but I didn’t hide it well. Shelly looked at me as if I were crazy. I thought I might be too.
“The only way I can put it is that I have a huge crush on him right now.” It sounded even more ridiculous when it came out than it did in my head.
Shelly popped another mouthful of my leftover fries into her mouth, having finished her own some time ago.
“Okay, friend. Sometimes I think you must be an alien from another planet,” she said with exasperation.
“I know, I know. But since we separated, it’s like we can talk about everything in a new way. We’re so much more open about how we feel, what we think, what we’re learning about ourselves. There’s so much less pressure. He’s not all critical and controlling anymore. So yeah, I have a crush on him. It’s pretty cool, actually.”
“Okay, let me get this straight… you have a crush on your husband, the father of your children, the guy who forgave you for having an affair, but you’re still going on a date with the guy you had that affair with?”
“Ouch.” Pregnancy bought a little extra allowance for crankiness, but this felt too harsh.
“Sorry,” Shelly said. “Can I use the cheating husband card to get out of that one?”
“Yeah, okay. But try to understand,” I said. “We’ve been separated for over two months now. Rick wants me to go. He says if I don’t I’ll always wonder.”
She rested her chin on her fist and sighed, “Life sure didn’t turn out the way we expected when we were little girls parading around pretending a white towel was a wedding veil, did it?”
“No, it most definitely did not. I’m not sure it does for anyone.”
* * *
It was the ultimate romantic date. Dave and I sat sipping champagne as we took in the view of waves crashing on the beach below. It was my first taste of alcohol in over two months.
Dave wore black dress pants and a green collared shirt that matched his eyes. His face was clean-shaven and his hair was slicked back, which made him look like he could be in his mid-twenties. I hoped the new wrinkle-fighting serum I was using might help me pass for late twenties. My hair was straightened with big flowing curls at the ends. I went for a smoky look on my eyes, which took a long time to perfect. The simple black halter dress that fell just above the knee with strappy, open-toed high heels made me feel glamorous for the first time ever.
Conversation flowed easily. We stuck to safe topics at first, talking about how different my life growing up in New York was from his experiences in California. He told me he was almost assured of an entry-level management position upon graduation, thanks to his skillful networking with fraternity alumni. The transparency of his attempt to present his qualifications as a legitimate suitor, should I find myself single again, charmed me.
We were just short of being rude to the server every time he interrupted us. I didn’t care about appetizers or specials. I didn’t care about food at all. This wasn’t that kind of date.
With the bottle of champagne half empty, Dave insisted we order something to eat.
“Get anything you want. I’m not even hungry. I’ll just share a little of whatever you get.”
When the annoyance of dealing with a third person was over, I reminded myself that this night with Dave would either be a beginning or an ending. There could be nothing in between. In either case, I couldn’t afford to fritter away another moment. I grabbed his hand from across the table, pulling it toward me. He noticed that I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring and started to massage the small space where it used to rest. We watched our fingers dance in the light of the flickering white candle. Each of mine needed to touch each of his. We took our time, fingertips meeting palms, thumbs intertwining, circling one another, and I felt myself melting. The rolling ocean simmered down to the gentle evening tide as the setting sun inched below the horizon, compelling quieted diners to take in the final glimpses of spectacular pinks, purples, oranges, golds, and fiery reds.
The sun was gone but the light radiating from it remained as I turned to look into Dave’s eyes.
“I’ve dreamed of a night like this for so long. It doesn’t seem real,” I said, feeling no need to hold back anymore.
He leaned across the table, almost knocking over a champagne glass, but catching it just in time. I moved toward him and he kissed me, right there in front of all the strangers, people who had no way of knowing our star-crossed love story. People who may have thought I looked a bit old for him, but otherwise saw us as just another lovestruck couple out for dinner.
My head swirled with the champagne and Dave. I stood up and pressed my forearms into the table as my mouth reached for his again. This time, we held our kiss for too long, moving away to look into each other’s eyes and then back quickly to satiate our demanding lips, so ravenous for each other.
The waiter arrived with several plates and I swallowed hard, unable to stand another minute of the torture. My eyes pleaded with Dave. We could eat the next day and every day after that. What was happening now was a once in a lifetime moment and food was meaningless.
Dave pulled away from me, heaving, and said, “just pack it all up, we’ll take it to go. Bring the bill now, please.”
I reached across the table and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pressing my face into his. I could hear an elderly woman exclaim, “Really!” nearby, and I knew she meant us.
I stood up and pressed my dress against my thighs to smooth it. Then I jabbed the cork back into the bottle of champagne and tucked it under my arm.
“I’ll be down there.” I faced the blackened beach out the window to show him where I meant and turned to leave.
“Oh my God, oh my God, I’m going to do this, aren’t I?” I asked after taking a long swig of champagne. “I have to do this. How could I not? How could I never know how it would be?” It scared me a little that I was speaking out loud, but the intensity of the moment overpowered my self-judgment.
I shivered as I realized I was standing alone, talking to myself at the beach, in a short dress on a cold night in December. And Dave was taking too long. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe he heard me mumbling to myself and figured I lost it. But he was suddenly standing in front of me with a warm, heavy blanket from his car. We found a cove that was completely dark and couldn’t be seen by anyone and wrapped ourselves in the blanket, pressed against each other.
I nuzzled my face into his hair and inhaled as deeply as I could. That combined with the moist beach air caused his gel to lose hold as chunks of his naturally wavy, soft hair fell loosely onto his face.
“You used to use a shampoo that smelled like apples,” I mumbled into his scalp as I kissed it. “But now your hair smells like cloves. I love both scents. So different and so sexy.”
He pulled away. “I can’t believe you noticed. I… the girl I dated over the summer, she didn’t like the apple smell, said it was like baby shampoo, so she made me switch. I didn’t think you paid attention to little things like that about me. I thought it was just me who’s that way about you. I can always tell when you change your hair a little, or wear a new shade of lipstick. It doesn’t matter though, you’re always perfect to me. I could look at your face forever. But I didn’t know you felt…”
“Oh my God, Dave, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about you, everything about you. Your smell, your face, your body—your sweet voice and the beautiful things you say to me. You make me feel so seen, so heard, so understood. And I think about the night we were together all the time. The way you held me and sang to me. I was so…. I…” I gasped for air. He put his hands on the back of my head and drew me into him in slow motion. We kissed and kissed and kissed. Taking a break to breathe, I held the bottle to him. He took a long drink and I did too. Then we went back to kissing. His erection pressed into me so hard and it felt as though we were about to pick up right where we left off when we were alone in his apartment, in this exact same state of rapture. It was as if the time between the two moments had completely collapsed. I was there again, finally given a chance to complete what fate demanded. It had to be.
I pulled my dress up from behind. We were wrapped like a burrito in the blanket on the sand, which made it difficult for him to pull away from me, but he did his best. I tore the dress off over my head, tossing it aside, not caring where it landed. His hands found their way around my torso again and moved up higher to unclasp my bra, but they were shaking too much so I reached back and did it for him. The bra slid to my waist as he took my breasts into his mouth. I leaned back, moaning, tingling, wanting like never before.
He stopped for a moment and looked into my eyes, fighting for breath. “Is… this… really… happening?” he asked and my heart melted. I didn’t need to answer. It was the same question I was asking myself and he knew it.
His fingers made their way inside my lace black panties and up into me, first one, then two, then three. I wriggled with ecstasy and need.
Pulling at his pants with my clumsy, quivering hand, I couldn’t find the button. He took over and we were both naked in our blanket. I had to touch him, to remember what I only had a moment’s introduction to the last time. It was just as smooth and long, round and thick as I remembered. I had wondered if my recollection was correct or if it was my imagination so many times, given that he wasn’t a large person in general. But my memory was correct. He was uncommonly endowed and I was about to discover what magic he and his gift of nature could deliver.
“Do you, do you have something?” I asked, thinking how crazy it was that I couldn’t bring myself to say the word in a moment like this.
He rolled over to pull the package out of the pocket of his pants. As I watched him slide the thin sheath over himself, I felt a twinge of fear that I might not be able to take all of him. It was more than anything I had known.
He kissed me again, our naked bodies now writhing and twisting with him on top of me, as he held himself back.
Still breathless, he choked out the words, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, now,” was all I could get out.
I squealed in euphoric agony as he entered me. It was unlike anything I had felt before.
“Ahhh. Owww. Ahhh. Ohhh.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just go slow. Okay?”
He pulled out a little. It seemed this was a familiar situation for him.
I rolled over on top of him to control the motion myself, but still I couldn’t take much more. I lifted my body up and down, easing my way, wanting to let him all the way into me. But it felt almost as if something would break or snap inside me if I did. I moved my body side to side and around in circles holding him tight in place and I felt with my hand to find that I was still only managing a little more than half of him.