Authors: Patricia Watters
"Mom?"
Bailey said. "Are you all right?"
Andrea realized
she'd pressed her fingers to her temples. "Oh... yes. I'm fine." She
blinked to hold back tears of desperation and guilt. Desperation that she'd be
trapped with Jerry for ten miserable days, and guilt for being mad at her
daughters for putting them in this position. But she also felt wretched because
she had the three most wonderful daughters in the world, who thought they were
giving their parents the ultimate gift for their anniversary, and she felt like
tearing up the tickets and throwing the pieces away.
Jerry touched
her shoulders lightly, and said to the girls, "I think your mom's just
overwhelmed."
"
It's
okay, Mom. We understand." Bailey picked up a
sealed envelope that had been sitting on the table in front of her. Her face
sobered, as she said, "We also know that what would have been Scott's
eighteenth birthday will come during the cruise, which will be hard for the two
of you that day, so we want you to open this envelope then and read the letters
inside. It's sort of an eighteenth birthday gift to Scott from his three
sisters." She handed the envelope to Andrea, who looked at it anxiously,
then glanced at Jerry, who held her gaze, face hard, eyes reproving.
She knew that
look, the look that said
,
he'd still be here if you'd stopped him that night...
Then Jerry
stepped from behind her, opened his arms to the girls, and said, "Come
here my three precious princesses." The girls left their places at the
table and rushed into Jerry's arms. And Andrea knew, at that moment, that there
was no way on God's earth
she
and Jerry could
disappoint their daughters. But once aboard the ship, she and Jerry would go
their separate ways, a natural transition to their new and separate lives.
***
Alone in their
bedroom that night, Andrea said to Jerry, while sorting through the clothes
she'd be taking, "The first thing I plan to do when we board the ship is
to see about getting a second stateroom. Since the girls will be leaving
tomorrow for the lake, they won't be around to see us off, so we can board the
ship as singles. That way we won't have to look at each other, or talk to each
other, or even acknowledge each other's existence."
"My
thoughts exactly," Jerry replied.
Odd how they
were finally agreeing for the first time in years. First to the idea of getting
a divorce, then to this. But it was easy now that the end was in sight.
From the depths
of the walk-in closet, Andrea retrieved a green and tan sundress that had been
there for some time, and standing in front of the mirror, held it up to
herself
. It was a daringly low-cut, halter top dress, with
built-in support that lifted and squeezed, creating a deep cleavage. It used to
drive Jerry to distraction, and whenever she wore it, the night always ended
with a hot and heavy session in bed. She glanced up to find Jerry watching.
"Don't worry," she clipped. "If I bring it along, I won't be
wearing it for you."
"You can
wear anything you damn well please as far as I'm concerned," Jerry said.
"Just keep in mind that if you strut your stuff
like you were once a master at doing, you'll
be expected to put out, which you've long since forgotten how to do."
Andrea let out
a little cynical laugh. "With the right man, my memory might return,"
she quipped. She pulled open one of the built-in drawers in the walk-in closet
and rummaged through the scanty, lacy bra and panty sets Jerry bought for her
on various occasions over the years, and which had been folded, nearly
untouched, for the past two years. Removing the entire stack, she set it on the
bed. She lifted a black half-bra with peek-a-boo lace that barely covered her
nipples, if she remembered correctly, and draped it across the front of her.
Peering into the mirror at Jerry's reflection, she said in a tone intended to
aggravate him, "After nursing four kids, it's probably too small, but I'll
take it along with the rest. I might find an occasion to wear it."
Although she
couldn't imagine wearing any of the skimpy things now, she'd pack them if only
to make Jerry wonder. And who knows? Maybe she'd take a lover. The idea might
be worth considering, now that she and Jerry would be going their separate
ways. She needed a little spice in her life. Maybe a hot and heavy session in
bed with a man who might turn her on again. She barely remembered what
that
was like. But when she turned to
pack the lingerie into her bag, she saw that Jerry had his own plans for the
cruise. In his oversized tote lay the assortment of bikini briefs she'd given
him over the years, skimpy briefs covered in cupids, and a pair with a target
on front and words written across the waistband that read:
I'm cocked and ready
, and an especially skimpy pair covered in
bright red hearts.
She remembered
the
Jerry Porter Style Show
he'd
performed after the kids were tucked in bed, the night of the red-heart briefs.
With a rose clamped between his teeth, plucked from the bouquet he'd brought
her, Jerry strutted his stuff across the room, bumping and grinding while
humming
The Stripper
. Then he inched
off the briefs in a great display of teasing and taunting, and twirled them
around the tip of his finger while swaggering back and forth across the room.
She'd been near hysterical with laughter, then overwhelmed with passion. Back
then Jerry had the most incredible body she could imagine a man having—a broad
chest with a matt of dark hair she couldn't resist running her hands over and
an impressive male member she couldn't refrain from ogling and fondling and
showing him what it was really for.
That was the
same night she conceived Scott. She'd suffered from terrible morning sickness
with him. And after he was born, their life changed. Jerry had not worn the
briefs since. But after years of being packed away, he clearly planned to wear
them again. But not for her.
Yes, she
decided, she would seriously consider taking a lover.
Three days
later, while standing in the doorway to their stateroom on the cruise ship,
Andrea stared at the queen-size bed with the quilted white bedspread covered
with red hearts. On one pillow was a fresh red rose tied with a satin bow, a
vivid reminder of the night of the red-heart briefs and Jerry's performance.
She glanced at Jerry and knew he was envisioning the same image as she. From
his expression, he was as humiliated with his behavior back then as she was
embarrassed now by hers, as well as the wild uninhibited lovemaking that
followed. But now the distressing episode was eclipsed by the knowledge that
they had created a son that night who had, little by little, torn them apart.
Scott was the son they tried just one more time to have. Yet each failed
attempt created a daughter who would bring them nothing but joy. And still,
they wanted a son. But when Scott finally came to them, they were at a loss
what to do with him...
She turned her
attention to the glass-enclosed shower for two, with contoured seats and
sliding mirrored doors on a closet facing the glass enclosure, and almost
laughed out loud at the irony of it. The girls had reserved the honeymoon
suite. She glanced at the bed again and said, "You can't stay here. You
need to see about getting another room. The girls will never know."
Jerry walked up
to the shower and opened the door. "That's your problem, not mine,"
he said. "You find another room. You can put it on my tab. It's worth it
for ten days of peace and quiet. Besides, you won't need a shower for two,
given your aversion to sex."
"This may
come as a surprise to you, "Andrea said, "but I don't have an
aversion to sex, only to sex with you. I saw any number of attractive men when I
came aboard who looked interested in me. One even winked and smiled."
"Sure,"
Jerry said. "Gigolos are waiting to get in bed with a naïve woman like you
and play you for all you're worth. You're a prime target."
"Maybe
from your perspective," Andrea said. "But did it ever occur to you
that some men might find me attractive, even if I am in my mid-forties?"
"Yeah well
they'll find you attractive until they hop into bed with you, then they'll
wonder what in hell they're doing there when you turn your back to them and
curl up in a ball and pretend to be sleeping."
"I've
heard enough remarks for one day," Andrea said.
Before she
could storm out of the room, Jerry yanked off his wedding ring, grabbed her
hand, and said, "Here, take the damn thing and do whatever you want with
it. I won't be needing it." He smacked the ring against her palm.
Andrea stared
at the ring. For twenty-five years it had never left Jerry's finger, just as
the ring he'd given her had never left hers. But he was right. The marriage was
over, for all practical purposes, so the rings had to go. She dropped the ring
in her handbag, along with her own, and stalked out of the stateroom, slamming
the door behind. As she marched down the corridor in long, angry strides, a
steward approached her, and said, "Is there something wrong, Madam?"
Andrea glanced
back at the closed door to their stateroom, and said, "Would it be
possible for me to get other quarters? I've been booked into the Honeymoon
Suite with a man I do not wish to be with. Do you understand?"
The man looked
at her with a blend of curiosity and compassion, and said, "Yes, Madam.
I'll see what I can do. But it is my understanding that the staterooms are all
booked. Would you be willing to share one if it can be arranged?"
"I'll do
anything to get out of staying in a room with the man I came with."
"Very
well, Madam. If you'll come with me."
Andrea followed
the man down the long passageway, up a flight of stairs, and down another long
passageway to a small sitting area with a row of chairs, where he motioned for
her to wait. He disappeared behind the closed door to an office, and after a
long period of time, appeared in the doorway and announced, "I've found a
stateroom for you with a woman whose traveling companion was unable to come at
the last minute. She's willing to share the room with you and divide the cost.
It's a spacious stateroom with twin beds. If you'll follow me, it's just down
the passageway from the honeymoon suite. I hope you will enjoy your
cruise."
"I'm
certain I will... now." Andrea followed the man to the stateroom, where he
gave her the key and left. She glanced around the small quarters then returned
to the honeymoon suite to get her bags. Jerry was gone, but she saw that he'd
unpacked his bags and stowed his clothes in the double-wide closet and large
dresser. In the top drawer, along with his white tee shirts and briefs, were
the bikini briefs she'd given him. She looked through the stack and noted that
the briefs with the target were missing. He certainly wasn't wasting any time.
Poking her head
out the door, she motioned for the steward to come for her bags then followed
him into a nicely-appointed stateroom. She had no idea what to expect of her
roommate, but from the look of the sexy lingerie hanging in the closet, it was
obvious what the woman had in mind for the cruise.
Andrea had just
finished unpacking her bags and was in the process of hanging her dinner
dresses in the wardrobe when a stunning-looking woman, who appeared to be in
her early twenties, walked into the room. From the top of her chic ebony hair,
to the tips of her Italian stiletto heels, the woman was pure class. Why she
was willing to share her stateroom and split the cost was a puzzle.
After
exchanging names, the woman expanded on that by saying, "I go by Valerie
when the name suits the occasion, but most of the time I'm just Val." She
stripped off her white linen designer blouse to reveal a scant lace bra, filled
to capacity and overflowing with the help of silicone implants, and said,
"So, you're recently divorced and are looking for a little excitement and
romance at sea."
Andrea stared
at the woman, surprised at her insight. "What makes you think I'm recently
divorced?" she asked.
Val let out a
little snicker. "The groove around your ring finger. Looks like you just
took off your ring." She unzipped her skirt and it slid down her long
shapely legs.
"Actually,
you're mostly right," Andrea said, looking at her bare finger where a ring
had been for two days short of twenty-five years. Her hand looked oddly...
naked.
"
Your
first?" Val asked, wiggling into a pair of very
short shorts.
"My first
what?"
"Divorce."
Val tugged a tank top over her head. "Was he your first husband?"
"Umm,
yes," Andrea replied, unprepared to answer questions so soon on the cruise.
She'd barely removed her ring, and the idea of joining the single scene had not
yet settled in.
"How many
years?" Val asked, fluffing her hair in front of the mirror.
"Just
short of twenty-five," Andrea replied.
"Shit!
What did he do?" Val asked. "Screw around with another woman?"
"No,"
Andrea replied. "That is, he didn't while we were married. But now he
might."
"Honey,
he's a free man," Val said. "Trust me. He already has. But there's no
point hanging onto the past. Let's go on deck and check out the crop before
it's picked over."
"I assume
you mean men," Andrea said, then felt dense for voicing the obvious. But
the single scene was still new to her.
"Of course
I mean men," Val said. "Change into something upscale and revealing
and meet me out there. I'll claim a couple of deck chairs for us." Val
smoothed her hands down the front of her tank top, molding it to her ample
breasts while peering in the mirror, and Andrea wondered what it would be like
to have a body like that. In earlier years, Jerry appreciated hers, but after
four children, silver stretch marks crossed her belly, her breasts were not as
high and firm, and it had been years since she'd paraded naked in front of
Jerry. Her display in the shower had been an impulse she couldn't explain, other
than to flaunt what Jerry would never again have. It dawned on her later that
what Jerry saw he no longer wanted, so the whole episode had been pointless.