“Even considering that.”
The thought of calling him while Andre was sitting there made her uncomfortable, but she trusted him well enough.
“Why is that?”
“Because he chose to do it first. And before he made his ingenious decision to leave, the thought had honestly never even crossed my mind,” Marsha said proudly, pulling up Blake’s number.
“Perhaps just because you kept yourself busy,” Andre offered.
She waved her phone to him to let him know that she was ready to make the call. He was right, though. If she would have thought of it first, things might have been different. She shook the thought from her head and made the call. For a moment, Marsha considered excusing herself to the restroom to make the call, but dismissed it immediately. If Blake could try to end a marriage and run off with some tramp to Nepal, she certainly had no reason to balance herself on a dirty toilet seat to make a phone call. No, no. There was nothing to be ashamed of! If anything, Blake should be ashamed, because if she had her choice, she’d be here with him right now. Marsha looked around the restaurant while the phone was ringing. The bathrooms probably aren’t half bad, she thought. I’d probably be quite comfortable in there.
She looked to Andre, her kind and gorgeous dinner partner. Whatever needed to be said could be said in front of her handsome date tonight. He was her only friend at the moment, and she was going to make use of that. Plus, if Blake were enjoying the company he was with, then she would enjoy hers. Andre smiled at her and the thought of his breath on her neck before they left sent tingles down her spine. Yes, if she were to choose not to be rude to ONE person on this planet, tonight she would choose Andre. Because for tonight, he was giving all he had to her. She couldn’t say the same for Blake, who didn’t answer until the fourth ring.
How the love of her life could wait so long to answer the phone immediately after insisting that they talk right this instant was beyond her. He was her first love, and waiting for him to answer half angered her, and halfway made her feel like she was in high school again waiting for him to call her parents’ house. Though she wouldn’t dare admit it to Andre, she secretly hoped that he just wanted to find out where she was so that he could swoop in and get her. She wanted to be rescued from this nightmare, even though it came with excellent scenery and a hot new friend. What she wanted more than anything was to have her marriage back along with a proper chance at saving it from the ashes.
A final bout of embarrassment swept over her as Blake finally answered. The tone of his voice on his very first Hello wasn’t one of a knight in shining armor. And the threat of embarrassment she could face on returning to California as a renowned Love Guru was overwhelming. The color washed from her face, she could feel it, and she felt nauseous.
He sounded irritated to be bothered, and her heart sank. She couldn’t hide it from herself, much less everyone in the room, which made her feel even more as though she were shrinking. She didn’t even care about what Andre would think. But the dinner patrons around her and the waiter would surely notice the poor soon-to-be divorced woman slumped down in her chair looking as though she were about to cry into her phone. She looked to Andre for comfort from her swimming head and he smiled at her gently.
Trying to maintain her composure, Marsha lowered her voice. “Yes, Blake.” She overheard thumping noises and shrieks of laughter from a female. Love Guru or not, when someone calls your husband’s name in the background and he asks them to be quiet, it’s usually not a good sign.
His voice was muffled and she could barely hear him. “Blake, are you at a club? I can hardly hear you.”
He cleared his throat. “Do you remember the time when you told me to wear that navy blue suit to a job interview? You claimed it was my lucky suit… Well, guess what, I should have never listened to you. I lost two thousand dollars tonight.”
A wave of anxiety crushed upon her. “You asked me to call you because of that? How can you blame me for such a thing? And gambling? Since when do you gamble, Blake? Two thousand dollars? How irresponsible can you be?!”
“It just goes to show that I should have never listened to you. You think you know everything because you’re the Love Guru.”
Despite the shallowness of his accusations, his words stung. Then she heard the woman’s breathy voice again and she knew that Blake was indeed with someone else. She was sobbing now, and she couldn’t hide it. Her shoulders gave her away, and she furiously batted away the tears with little success. She didn’t dare look at Andre; she didn’t even want to know what he thought about it just yet. But he slid his feet around her ankles and rubbed them gently. It made some of the pain bearable, because he knew how she felt. But for the most part, she was still embarrassed and lonely. It was the loneliness that surprised her the most. It felt hot, and sharp, and was the worst thing she’d ever experienced.
Marsha turned off her phone. There was no way, no class that could possibly prepare her for how to actually handle a statement like that. Such complete disregard for the woman, the person on the other end of the phone, and from the man who had been her partner for most of her life. She couldn’t, it was unbearable.
“Excuse me,” Marsha stood quickly and dropped her phone on the table, heading for the restroom. She would be the talk of the night, for sure. At least for another hour or two until they closed. The doors to the bathroom creaked as she burst threw them, and she was greeted with a scent that was so floral, it threatened to lighten her mood, were she in the market for that sort of thing. Marsha fought the urge to dive into the stall and fall to her knees with her head in the toilet, and instead simply stopped to take a breath just inside the door. The room was calmly lit, with candles on the wash counter next to the sink. There were flowers in vases on the floor, and some hanging in sconces on the walls. They were huge and fragrance seemed to drip from the fixtures. In any other universe, she would have found the place lovely. As it were, she only had eyes for vomiting. Which she did, gracefully, about ten seconds later.
The stall was the perfect size. The walls went from floor to ceiling and the door as well. The whole place was like a cocoon, and she was the tiny caterpillar heaped on the floor trying desperately to become a butterfly. A low vent hummed in the background, and she pressed her face into her forearm, resting on the toilet seat. The place was clean, at least, which made her feel a bit less like a drunk bachelorette. But not by much.
She closed her eyes and listened to the hum of the vent for what seemed like ages. She knew Andre would understand, and she knew she’d do the same for him if the time came. Giving him absolute freedom to feel things at his pace and in his own way. That was the beauty of their friendship, one had been formed in so short a time that it made her head spin.
The head spinning could have been the lack of fluids from vomiting, a thought that struck her on her second round of it. Eventually, she crawled from her spot, made warm on the floor from her lengthy stay. She pulled herself up and made her way to the sink, hoping no one else had entered while her ears were ringing, and afraid to see herself in the mirror. Her knees wobbled as she walked toward the wash counter, and to her surprise, she did look a bit like a drunk bachelorette.
Her skin was youthful looking, though a bit washed out, and her hair looked as though it could be remedied easily enough. Even though it was sticking up on one side, she wet her fingers and managed to run them through enough times that she looked decent enough. The no makeup and no fancy hairdo thing could definitely be a new favorite thing of hers. Marsha pulled a thick, linen-like paper towel from the basket on the counter and brushed her teeth with it as best as she could, rinsing again and again until she could no longer taste the bitter evidence of her failed marriage. It hurt, but she had given the hurt its place, and now it was time to rejoin her date. She’d have to figure out how to go about instructing people on this portion of their twelve-step system from now on, knowing how they felt. She could definitely be more compassionate now.
The long w
alk to the bathroom, one that she never thought would end, wasn’t nearly so painful on her way back to the table. Because this time, she had Andre, staring at her with a worried look on his face. In the entire world, the entire unfair world where her own husband didn’t care for her…here was a man who wondered if she was okay. And that made the world all right, even if only for a moment.
“What’s the verdict, love? Is he a jerk or not?”
Marsha giggled and snot nearly came out of her nose. “Yes, of course he is! Let’s eat.” She took her seat and picked up her silverware. It was hard to think about taking the first bite, and as she had expected, it didn’t really taste like anything. She wore a smile anyway, for the universe if nothing else, and cut a second bite. Andre smiled at her and matched her eating speed, which for the moment signaled that they both might starve to death. He rubbed her ankles with his feet again, and lifted his left to place his foot on the side of her chair. When she met his eyes, they were kind and gleaming. It was a gesture of goodwill, and of love, even if that was a dear friendship love. And it was just what she needed. It felt better than a hug.
“So I guess now would be as good a time as any to let you know I just puked. In case you were hoping for an after dinner make out session.” Andre perked up his eyebrows and grinned. “Well then,” she added. “I’ll have to brush my teeth first.”
“That…is so sexy.” He raised his fork toward her in a fake cheers motion and put a bite in his mouth.
Marsha placed her hand on his ankle, and dipped her head into her hand. “I don’t know what I was expecting,” she said into her palm. “It’s not like he was going to come and get me.”
“But you hoped he would. I hoped he would, for you.”
“Yeah…and he does have someone with him. I’m sure you gathered that much. It hurt, real bad.” She choked on unexpected tears, but fought them back, leaning her head back for a moment and taking a deep breath. “I just don’t know what to do. Well, besides sit here and try to eat.”
“Don’t worry about that, we’ll close the place down if we need to. And if our food gets cold, we’ll just order more food. There is nothing at all that’s in this space right now that you should be worried about. One breath at a time, okay?” He wiggled his foot and she stroked his ankle, finding great comfort in it.
“Just…just you allowing me to love you makes me feel better. You know that?” She asked, wiping her eyes and half smiling.
“Well, I feel the same way about you. Your existence is very soothing to me, and I appreciate you letting me experience it.”
Marsha cut into her tuna again, noticing the smell for the first time. Her stomach turned a bit, then growled. She brought it to her mouth and held it on her tongue for a moment before chewing. Everything was going to be okay, and she lowered her hand onto Andre’s ankle again to let him know she thought so. Before long, after another glass of wine, she was running her fingers on the underneath side of his leg without thinking about it.
“How’s your food?” She asked halfway through her dinner.
“Almost gone!” Andre laughed.
The sounds of the water and some bugs in the background, paired with the wine that had been flowing steadily over the hour they were eating, had caused Marsha’s shoulders to relax and Andre’s voice to heighten a bit. At one point, she was caressing the back of his leg and had apparently made it closer to his knee without realizing it, because he giggled unexpectedly and jerked his leg toward him. It caused the two of them to laugh loudly enough that they were reminded of the time, and asked for the check soon after.
They walked off the last of their wine on the beach for half an hour before heading back to Andre’s car. On the long walk, their hands intertwined more times than they were apart, and Marsha often caught herself leaning to put her head on his shoulder while she laughed at something he said. He was very funny when he’d had something to drink. And while she couldn’t imagine that anyone would be attractive after having alcohol, she found it actually loosened her up to have just a little. Made her feel less uptight, and more apt to enjoy the jokes that were well supplied in the company she’d grown to desire.
C H A P T E R 16
The trip back to the condo was a quiet one. Andre held her hand on the center console of his car, just as she had grown accustomed to him doing. There was a sweet peace in the space between them, and nothing had to be said, to be understood. Marsha was in a painful place, and Andre respected it. She loved him for that. There was no need to explain what she felt because he had already felt the pain of that betrayal and his wounds were fresh.
She didn’t let herself think about it, which was made even more possible by what little alcohol she’d had. The car was warm, and the windows were down, allowing the hot breeze to tangle her hair around her neck while she held her free arm out of the window. If she could have anything she wanted in that moment, it would have been a soft bed and some sweet sleep, with Andre resting quietly behind her so she would feel balanced.
“Listen, I know it’s late,” his voice was soft and felt good in her ears as she rested her head on the seat and stared at him. “But would you want to go for a swim or anything when we get back? I’m not really ready to go home yet.”
Marsha’s thighs tightened. She was sure he couldn’t be asking himself to stay the night, but for a moment, she allowed herself to think that. And it was glorious. In four second’s time, she’d played the whole thing out in her mind, and she had to adjust herself in her seat and clear her throat.
“Well, I’m a bit full to swim. But you’re more than welcome to stay. We could sit outside, or watch a movie together?” She suddenly didn’t want him to have any reason to not stay.
He thought about it for a minute, and eventually nodded. “We’ll think of something, then.”
Marsha had to rub the side of her neck again and hoped he wouldn’t notice how flustered he was making her. After all, she was an older woman, and even though he apparently liked that sort of thing…he couldn’t possibly feel the same way about the two of them.
Could he?
She adjusted her skirt and pulled it down closer to her knees. He noticed, and gave her a wink, which sent a hot wave from the insides of her knees straight into her belly.
That….would be amazing.
Quite possibly, he needed what she needed in that moment and she immediately began rationalizing the act to herself to make it okay with the universe. Everything from Well Blake’s doing it, Or doing someone, to You only live once; isn’t that what the young people are saying? Suddenly she couldn’t think straight, and she let out a moan.
Andre’s chest tightened and he sucked in a breath, returning her moan with an audible reaction that tickled Marsha’s ears. Surely, there couldn’t be a creature who responded to her this way. Surely…
Andre pulled at his pants to adjust them. Marsha caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t dare look toward him for fear of seeing something that was possibly not meant for her to see. That would be intruding on his privacy. Sort of.
The moon, thankfully, was especially mesmerizing this evening. Marsha saw to it that she stayed focused on it, breathing slowly through her nose. It seemed like the trip to the condo was taking longer than it should, and Marsha danced in her seat. There was no way she could make it through the next five minutes without saying something stupid, and it was making her nervous trying to figure out how to put her foot in her mouth before she did. What amount of Thank you, you’re amazing, and hot…was too much?
When they finally rounded the corner and pulled up toward the front walk, she didn’t dare make eye contact with him, but she couldn’t think of anything clever enough to say to make him want to come inside.
“Well here we are,” Andre offered, releasing her hand and shifting the car into park, his eyes forward.
Marsha panicked a little, not sure if he felt what she did, and not wanting to look like a fool if he didn’t.
“Do
you want to come inside? Um….I think there’s some sandwich stuff in the fridge.”
“We just ate,” he said with a chuckle.
Of course you did, stupid. You’re going to screw it up. You need his friendship, she told herself.
“Right, right, um…we could, uh…have dessert?” Marsha remembered the pineapple dancing across her lips and his warm breath on her neck, once more, and without thinking, she turned her head toward him. Her eyes widened. Andre was looking at her, with his hands folded in his lap, carefully placed. She didn’t mean to look, but it wasn’t to be helped.
“I’m sorry,” he said, half-apologizing and half-smiling. Marsha let out a sharp sigh of relief; thankful she wasn’t the only one in need, just as he was leaning over the console toward her. In one motion, he used his left hand to grasp the base of her jaw and slide his hand around her neck, and turned her head to the side, presenting her lips to him as if he were summoning them. His right hand found her free palm and he laced his fingers through hers.
Their lips pressed together so lightly that she could barely be sure he was near her. Were it not for his breath on her mouth, she would have assumed she was imagining it. She didn’t dare open her eyes. With her head cradled in his perfect hand, Andre was sweeping his lips across hers…back and forth. It was glorious. With each stride across her lips, his breath grew heavier, and it caused her mouth to open accidentally. He bit her bottom lip lightly, and she sucked in a breath. He returned it with a guttural moan that seemed to take him by surprise and he squeezed Marsha’s hand, adjusting himself in his seat to lean closer to her. She opened her mouth a bit farther in hopes he would kiss her properly, but was surprised when he craned down underneath her jaw and kissed her neck. There was no stopping the sounds it brought from her throat. Tiny moans and quick breaths that only seemed to aggravate the work being done on her neck rolled from her as if it were prom night.
Mid-Life Crisis Diaries Page 9
