Throwback

by Zeia Jameson

  “No working, Jeremy Waters!”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  ~~~

  I come out of the shower feeling invigorated. I don’t know what it was about reading that book out loud to Jeremy. There were quite a few sex scenes in it. And it wasn’t really just about the sex scenes. It was about new love. About passion. About something we used to have that has faded. I wanted it back. That passion awakened me. I remembered feeling like I was living my life just fine until I met Jeremy and then I realized that every second with him was what life was worth living for. I want that back so badly. So badly. It makes me want to run into the living room naked and straddle him, doing to each other whatever we want to do until we can’t breathe another breath, until we can’t move another muscle. That used to be us. And I would be on that plan like melted butter on a hot cake but the trunk said no sex.

  Stupid fucking trunk.

  I dry my hair and get dressed. I walk into the living room to see what Jeremy is up to. He’s on the phone. I begin to get angry, thinking he might be talking to someone from work. Before I say anything, I listen to the conversation a bit.

  “Did she sleep ok, Mom? Is she eating ok? Livy says she likes to roll a lot. Please make sure you watch her.”

  He’s checking on Amelia. Oh my God, I seriously want to flip the trunk off right now. With both hands. Fuck you, trunk, I’m going to go jump my husband’s bones right now because the simple fact that he’s checking in and showing love and concern right now is seriously turning me on.

  But as I convince myself to do just that, he hangs up the phone and turns to me. “I just called Mom. Amelia is doing just fine.”

  I tamp down my urges and maintain my self-control. “That’s great. Thank you for checking.”

  He walks over to me. “Of course.” He kisses me on the side of the face. “I am going to jump in the shower and I’ll be right out.”

  “Ok.”

  Maybe I’m going to get my Jeremy back after all.

  ~~~

  We grab some coffee and just stroll around the city. We point out restaurants that used to be clothing stores and abandoned areas that used to be restaurants. We come up on Joe’s old bar. We just stand there. It’s still thriving as a chain restaurant. It sickens me, but Joe and I really did benefit from it. And thinking about all the time I spent at that bar, at a time where I thought that was all I wanted to do with my life, really makes me appreciate how it all turned out.

  “Jeremy, I’m not really sure where I’d be today if you hadn’t come into my bar that night.” I look up at Jeremy and he smiles. “I’m not really sure where I’d be either, Livy. But, I’d like to think, even though we’ve had this bump in the road, that I did us both a pretty big favor walking in when I did.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

  “So, do you think our bump in the road is over?” I ask. For the sake of my sanity, I hope so.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I do still have a business to run and we do still have a child to raise. But you know what I have realized? I realized that I think I thought I had this whole adulthood thing figured out. And now? I feel like I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing. I want to go back to where we were when we met. I was just a worker bee. You were just a hot bartender. Things were so easy.”

  I laugh “Yeah, they were. And funnily enough, I thought everything was so hard. If only I knew then what...” I don’t’ even finish that stupid cliché phrase. But sadly, it’s true. People say that shit for a reason. You look back on your younger self and you want to kick your younger self’s ass for not knowing any better.

  “But, look, Jeremy. We are here now. We are back at where we started. And even where we started isn’t what it used to be. Everything changes. It can’t stay the same.”

  “Then what about us? What do we do? Can we make change ok? Are we going to be ok, Livy?”

  I shrug my shoulders because it’s the only answer I can give. “Jeremy, I really do hope so. We suck at being adults but I do still love you. I really do. And I really, truly think that if you still love me too, we can figure something out. I mean you and I have the whole rest of our lives. The whole rest of our lives. We might both live to be seventy-five. That is fifty years! We’ve only lived a little over half of that so far and we’ve only known each other for six years. Are we really going to make it fifty more years together?”

  “Yikes. That is really substantial, Livy.” Jeremy looks me in the eyes and places his hands on my shoulders. “Livy, when I stood up there with you at that altar, every single word I said, I meant. I know that I’ve fucked up by letting my workaholic-self overcome me, but I promise you, I meant those words. Every single word. I love you, Livy. We have lost each other but if we both live to be one-hundred-and-thirty years old, I want to spend every day of that knowing that you are my wife. I don’t want any other reality than that. We have got to figure out how to make this work.”

  I look at the back alley lot where Joe’s bar used to be. My insides cringe at the thought of where I would be if I hadn’t met Jeremy. If I hadn’t met him and Joe sold the bar still. I’d be a twenty-seven year old bitter woman, all alone in this city that doesn’t give a fuck about anybody.

  “Jeremy, I don’t want any other reality either. I love you. And I trust you, even though I may have had some lapses in judgment on that front. But I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with you. But I want the old Jeremy back. The one who used to love being with me for who I was. The one who cared enough to organize Christmas for the shelter children. The one who was thoughtful and patient. You aren’t that Jeremy anymore, you know that, right?”

  Jeremy nods. “I do know that. And you aren’t the same Livy anymore. Granted, you did grow a kid and then push it out of your body, so I have no reason to blame you for your changes. But you used to be so confident in yourself. You used to speak your mind. Now you are so self-conscience and you never let me in. Why?”

  “I’m just going to blame hormones. And being alone for so long. I’m in my head all of the time. And nothing I could ever put into words would be able to adequately explain to you what it is like to be a mother who has to put the needs of a helpless human before everything else. Even having to pee, Jeremy. Do you understand that? If I have to pee, but Amelia needs to eat, Amelia gets to eat.”

  “I guess I really never thought of it that way before. I mean, sure I know you sacrifice a lot, but I’ve never considered just how much. I just thought I was doing my part of the sacrifice at work.”

  “Jeremy, I don’t want to live like this anymore. Having Amelia has changed me. So much. Before she was born, I thought that I understood love. I thought what you and I had together was true love. And maybe it is, Jeremy. I do love you, I know I do. I always had doubts that maybe what I was feeling was just being happy that someone was even willing to give me love. But when Amelia was born and I looked into her eyes for the first time, Jeremy, that is when I really understood what love was. I know you tried really hard and you did a great job getting me to trust you and love you. But all that tiny little baby had to do was look at me and I was consumed by a power that I had no control over. I didn’t have to try to love her. I just did. And until the day I take my last breath, I will do everything for Amelia to keep her safe and to make her life the best life she could possibly have. I want you and I to have a connection again. We used to have it and now I’m kicking myself in the ass because I doubted it. I doubted how you felt about me. Even after we got married, I doubted myself and worried if I was really good enough for you. And you are right. I was confident in myself because I knew me. But now, everyday changes. Every day is a new challenge and a new adventure with Amelia. Sometimes I can hardly keep up. It’s overwhelming and fascinating all at once. But I don’t want to do it alone anymore. Jeremy, we promised each other our lives. We only have one life. Amelia only has one life. We have to make this life together, all three of us, the best life we can make it or we may as well not even try at all.
I want us to be together. All of us. I want to travel and show Amelia things that I’ve never even seen before. I want to live a full life and have no regrets.”

  Jeremy looks at me and cups my face in his hands. “I want that to.” Then, he kisses me.

  After Jeremy and I return home from our reminiscing of the city and our edifying talk about the future, we decide to spend the remaining hours until we can open the next envelope watching more recorded shows from the DVR.

  ~~~

  I find myself cocooned by Jeremy’s body, on the sofa, just as the day before. I have no recollection of how we got into this position, but I’m not complaining. And even though we’ve been crashing on the couch, it’s the best sleep I have had in a long time. I think I could probably sleep another full day if it weren’t for the fact we had to continue on with this mysterious trunk and its instructions.

  I reach over to the coffee table to look at my phone to check the time. It’s Monday, close to noon. Jeremy lifts his head and kisses me on the back of the neck. “What time is it?” he asks.

  “Almost noon.”

  “We are way past our twenty-four hour mark.”

  I get up and stretch and begin walking toward the trunk. “I know. We best get to it.”

  I reach in and rummage through the trunk for envelope #3. I find it. It is a small, yellow envelope with a clasp. I look at Jeremy, eager. I open the clasp and lift the flap of the envelope and peek inside. I pull out...a DVD case with a piece of paper wrapped around it. I removed the paper and look at the words typed on it. All it says is ENJOY.

  Confused, I look at the DVD case and react to the cover. “What the fuck?”

  “What is it?” Jeremy asks.

  “It’s...it’s a porno.”

  “Porn?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wait, what are we supposed to do with that?” Jeremy asks.

  I flutter the typed message around. “Apparently, we are to ENJOY.”

  “So, we are supposed to watch that? Together?” Jeremy is very put off by that notion.

  “Jeremy, don’t act like you’ve never watched porn before.”

  “Well, I’ve never watched porn with my wife!”

  “It’s just porn.”

  “No. It’s porn with my wife.”

  “Oh, grow up. It’s really no worse than some of the shows we’ve watched before on cable.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s porn.”

  “Whatever. I’m watching it. You chicken?”

  Jeremy stiffens his posture and clears his throat. “Of course not.”

  “Great. I’ll put the movie in. Should we make popcorn? Is that appropriate for porn?” I ask, facetiously.

  “There is no food appropriate for porn.”

  “Right,” I say with mockery.

  I open the case of the DVD and there is a Post-it note attached to the disk. “No Sex” is all it says. But it is hand written which is interesting. However, the lettering is very boxy so I’d never be able to guess who wrote it if I wanted to.

  No sex. Seriously? Like I’m going to want to have sex with my husband after watching porn? Sure. I’m no porn expert, but I’ve watched a few. It did nothing for me in the arousal department.

  I punch the DVD into the player and the cheesy music instantly fills the room. No Coming Soon attractions on this flick, I think, and then I snicker at myself for the pun. As I sit down on the sofa and the title flashes across the screen in the fashion of some mid-nineties digital artistry, I look up at Jeremy who is still standing by the trunk. I pat my hand on a sofa cushion. “Come on, you big wuss, let’s just get it over with.”

  He comes over. He sits. We watch. For thirty five minutes we both observe with undulating eyebrows and heads tilted to the side, as though doing so might make the angle of the scene a little easier to understand.

  At one point, I say, “Huh, I never considered doing that.”

  “Uh, I have,” Jeremy replies. This coming from the evident porn aficionado.

  As we are sitting there, I’m not sure what Jeremy is thinking but I am not the least embarrassed about watching actors, physically well endowed, not so much with the gift of acting, fuck each others brains out. It actually reminded me of Jeremy and me. Not with the cheesy break away clothing and the terrible attempts of faking orgasms, of course, but how we used to be relentless toward one another. There was a time where we could hardly function in our daily activities until we spent a good forty five minutes satisfying each other. There were days where we wouldn’t get out of bed at all. Those days were frequent, before Jeremy opened his own business.

  These days though, I wonder what my husband’s penis even looks like anymore. Certainly it didn’t change. But I haven’t seen it in a while so I don’t really know. But of course not for Jeremy’s lack of trying. On the rare occasion that he is home, he always wants to have sex. But he wants to have sex just to have sex. Not because he wants to ravish his wife and make her world spin into oblivion. Those days were way in the past. Now he’s just a man with a need and I’m his contractual obligation.

  When the closing, less than captivating music begins and the credits appear, we both just sit there in silence. I’m not sure for how long, but Jeremy breaks the silence by clearing his throat and squeezing my hand. He’s aroused. Of course he’s aroused. He’s a man that just watched a porno.

  “You know I don’t want to shoot you down but I have to. The trunk told me so.” I hold up the Post-it that I’ve had stuck to my fingers the whole duration of the movie. Jeremy lets out a huff. “Then what the fuck was the point?” He’s so frustrated. I shrug my shoulders and turn my head to look in his direction. “Maybe when we actually do get to have sex again, we can try that sideways thing they did. I might even be able to get a hold of some leather, like that one girl had on, if you’re interested.” I’m really half way teasing because I know I’m giving Jeremy visuals and there is nothing he can do about it. We have to obey the trunk. But I do have to admit, teasing him like this is kind of turning me on as well. Perhaps that was the whole point. Seeing Jeremy get hot and bothered always had an effect on me. I’m beginning to wonder if whoever sent this trunk knows us as a couple better than we know ourselves.

  Or maybe the trunk is just a cruel son of a bitch that likes to see my husband squirm. Poor Jeremy.

  “So, now what?” Jeremy asks. “Do we have to wait before we can open the next one?”

  “There weren’t any instructions saying we couldn’t.”

  Like a child, Jeremy runs to find the fourth envelope. It’s a regular, greeting card sized envelope. Jeremy rips it open and finds a single piece of card stock.

  “What does it say?”

  “How the fuck am I supposed to do this?”

  “What?” I’m whining. Now, I’m being the child. He hands me the card and I read it.

  Undress each other.

  Take a shower with each other.

  Kiss each other.

  Touch each other.

  Lather, smell, caress.

  Take your time. It’s all you’ve got.

  When you are done, lie in bed naked with each other.

  Hold each other.

  See each other.

  Sleep with each other.

  No sex.

  When you awake, you may open the next envelope.

  ***

  43

  Jeremy

  Shower

  How the fuck am I supposed to take a shower with my wife without the end game of sex? I just watched a goddamned porno and I haven’t had sex with Livy in a long time. That is just cruel and unusual punishment. The trunk is a sadist.

  “There is a point to this, Jeremy. I’m not sure what, but there is a point. It’s going to be hard...”

  “Oh, it’s going to be hard, all right.”

  “You are such a perverted teenager. It’s going to be difficult,” she rephrases, “but let’s just do it and see what happens. The trunk is like Mr. Miyagi. It is wise. We don’t underst
and its logic and probably won’t until the lesson is over. So, let’s get started.”

  Livy begins walking toward the bathroom, motioning with her hand for me to follow, which I do reluctantly.

  I get to the bathroom and Livy is standing there, waiting for me to make the first move. I don’t want to do this. Not because I don’t want to see Livy naked. I wish she was naked all of the time. But I don’t want to see her naked and not be able to do anything about it.

  Livy and I are standing face to face, inches apart, staring at one another. We are having a high noon stand off on who is going to make the first move. After standing there for a very long time, Livy begins to dip her eyebrows. Is she angry? Confused? Disappointed? I can’t tell. She lets out a sigh and her face softens. Then, I feel her hand go under my t-shirt and touch my stomach. I’m so tense about the situation that I flinch. Livy’s brow furls again but she keeps her hand under my shirt. It moves up my chest and then her other hand is under my shirt. Livy smiles, “I sure do miss these abs. This chest.” Her movements are slow and I’m frozen.

  I feel like an idiot. Like she’s never touched me before. But I’m afraid to move because I know when I do, my brain is going to shut off and I don’t know what will happen after that.

  Livy gestures to take off my shirt. I’m even hesitant to raise my arms to let her do it. Livy rolls her eyes and removes her hands from my chest. “Jeremy, what is the problem here? Do you not want to see me naked in broad daylight?”

  Her absurd question breaks me out of my nervous trance, “What? Why would you think that? That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Of course I want to see you naked.”

  “Then why aren’t you moving?”

  “Because I know once you are naked, I will want to do things to you that the trunk says I can’t do.”

  “The trunk said we could touch.” She proceeds to put her hand down my pants. And then she brings her lips to mine and kisses me hard. She pulls back, “It said we could kiss.” She smiles which causes me to smile. Livy places both hands back under my shirt to retry taking it off. I lift my arms this time and she removes my shirt. She places her hands on my shoulders and runs them down the length of my torso until her fingers land on my belt, never once breaking eye contact with me. The feel of her fingertips gently touching my chest makes my heart pound. I can tell I am seconds away from my brain relinquishing all responsibility of thought and it makes me anxious.