by Brenda Hill
After we put the groceries away, I arranged a snack tray with assorted fruit and almond cookies, and made coffee. Terry carried it into the living room and placed it on the coffee table.
“What happened to your sofa?” he asked, eyeing the empty space that used to hold the sofa. “Having it recovered or something?”
“Got rid of it.” After getting comfortable in the wing chair closest to the coffee table, I poured coffee for both of us and filled our plates.
“But you loved that sofa.”
“I’ve loved a lot things.” Ignoring the sudden moisture in my eyes, I took my time selecting just the right strawberry. They were fascinating, such a rough texture to the touch and so sweet inside. I took a bite and sweet, pulpy juice flooded my mouth. I handed one to Terry.
He popped it into his mouth. “Delicious. Now, tell me about the sofa. Something’s bothering you and I don’t think it’s simply that idiot from your office. I know you were recently widowed, and that’s a terrible thing to have to adjust to. But there’s more, isn’t there.”
It was going to be difficult to get used to his sensitivity to my moods. Not that I minded. Mac never gave a passing thought to whatever I was feeling. And it had to be said sometime so it might as well be now.
“It’s a long, sordid story,” I told him, “so you might as well get comfortable.”
After he was settled with his coffee and snack plate, I told him about Jenna and her son, starting from when I first received the notice about Mac’s postal box. Then I told him about Stan & Maggie.
“Oh my God, honey,” he said, “I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t even say which was the worst. They all hurt like hell.”
Terry set his cup down and opened his arms. “Come here.” Without giving it a second thought, I settled on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and draping my legs over the chair’s arm. Terry held me, and, even though I wasn’t crying, he crooned to me.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he said in a quiet, almost whispering tone. “You didn’t deserve that kind of treatment from any of them. That was so terrible for you. I wish I could have been there for you.” On and on he talked in that soft voice, loving me, supporting me with words, holding me close. I felt comforted by his arms, his voice.
“I lost everything,” I told him, burrowing my head in his neck, that nice warm spot between his shoulder and his chin. “Even my home is mortgaged. Jenna has everything that belonged to me...even my best friends.”
“She doesn’t have me.” Terry’s arms tightened and he rocked us on that chair. “It’s okay, honey, I love you and I’ll take care of you. Don’t even think about them. We’ll make a new life and have each other...that’s all that’s important...”
Lying back in his arms, I felt comforted and realized how cold my marriage had truly been. Was I the cause? If I had been, could I fault Mac for seeking some warmth?
Yet something just didn’t seem right. I might not have been the best wife, but hadn’t I deserved something more than total betrayal? Jenna was living comfortably while I struggled to pay, once again, for my home. I couldn’t even be sure I could buy groceries. Outrage still bubbled beneath the hurt. It just wasn’t fair.
“I wonder if I could get anything back.” I sat up. “Do you think it would be worth trying?”
“I can’t say, honey.” Terry kissed my forehead. “That’s something you have to decide. But you might have a chance. I think an investigation into bank accounts and transfers could prove your husband gave her the money, and you might be able to sue for the house title. Maybe even go after anything she has left in the bank.”
“She probably has some left for her son’s education.”
“It’s your husband’s son, too, you know.”
Everything in me tightened. I didn’t want to think about Jenna’s son, living proof that Mac had been unfaithful. If he’d been so unhappy, why hadn’t he asked for a divorce? While I would’ve been crushed, it would have been honest and open and I would have adjusted. I’d discovered the human body and psyche could adapt to a number of blows. Perhaps I could have found another life as well.
And Jenna. She had known Mac was married, so what did that make her? Having a child didn’t automatically elevate her to sainthood, deserving everything I’d worked for.
I sat up. “I’m not ready to talk about Marsh.”
“Honey, it’s not his fault his father was an adulterer. Like it or not, you’re connected to that child.”
“Well, I don’t like it. I still have to tell my daughter she has a half-brother and I’m not looking forward to that. She adored her father, so she’s just going to wind up blaming me.”
“Maybe you need to give her a little more credit.”
“I wish I could, but I’ve had too many years of feeling her resentment. Of what, exactly, I don’t even know, except she, along with her father, used to make fun of me. I guess it became a habit.”
“What are you saying? Your husband made fun of you in front of your daughter?”
I told him about the Father’s Day celebration and other times they teased me.
“If your husband did that, then that explains her attitude. She saw her father exhibit a lack of respect for you so she adopted the same way of thinking. She loves you, I’m sure, but probably didn’t learn to value you as a woman or mother.”
Of course! Open-mouthed, I stared at Terry. Now that he had said it aloud, it seemed so obvious, so simple. Mac had been unhappy with me, but instead of leaving me, he constantly jabbed at me with barbs and criticisms. Shanna took her cues from her father and adopted his feelings. If only I’d seen that years ago.
“Actually,” Terry continued, “I’m wondering why you married him. Or stayed married.”
I thought about it, and while I hated to admit I’d fallen for a concept rather than a man, I wanted to be honest, especially with myself.
“He came along at a difficult time in my life,” I said, “and offered a home, a steady paycheck, and a chance for my own family. It was like a fairy tale come true, and I thought I loved him. Now I’m not so sure. We had a good life, or so I thought, and a nice home.”
“You’re not the only young woman to have fallen for something other than the man. I did the same thing in reverse.” We both fell silent. After a few moments, still holding me, Terry asked if I’d decided whether or not I was going to try and get anything back from Jenna. “Actually, I’d much rather you forgot all that and just travel with me. Let’s talk about that Caribbean cruise.”
“I can’t go off traipsing around the country with you. My life is upside down, my finances are a mess, and besides, I’ve only been widowed a short time.”
“Does it matter how long you’ve been widowed? Isn’t it about time you started living?”
It sounded heavenly, but first, too many things had to be resolved. “My house...”
“You can sell it or better yet, rent it out. While we’re seeing the world, your house will grow in equity, then you can sell or refinance, pay off your bills and still have some left.”
“But Terry,” I said, sitting up, “I still have to make payments to Stan and Maggie.”
“Let me think on that one. We’ll figure something out.”
“I’m just not sure. After everything that’s happened, I need to feel I can take care of myself.”
“You already know you can support yourself. I’m just asking that you delay it a little so we can spend time together. If I had a lifetime, it would be different but you know I just have a few short years.”
I would love to just forget everything and go with Terry. What a marvelous life, traveling, seeing the world with him, making love whenever we wished. But I felt a reluctance to do so.
After marrying Mac, I slowly began to depend on him more and more, losing that part of myself that felt confident I could survive alone. I needed to get that back. It suddenly struck me that perhaps my mother had felt the same way. Perhaps my s
tepfather had slowly taken her self-worth away, but by the time she realized it, she had become so dependent on him that it was too late.
“Let me help you make up your mind.” He leaned down and kissed me. I kissed him back, and he tugged on my top, pulling it over my head. I raised my arms to help him. Then he slid his arms around me, and with a flick of his fingers, he unhooked my bra. Still holding me, he stood and carried me to the bedroom.
***
An hour later, Terry groaned and flopped onto his back. I curled up next to him, my head on his shoulder, my body tingling with satisfaction. Playfully, I leaned over and nipped Terry’s nipple with my teeth.
“Good God, woman, aren’t you ever satisfied? I’m gonna need vitamins.”
I laughed and played with his penis, lifting it up, then letting go and watching as it flopped back down. It was astounding, but after twenty-five years of marriage, I was just now learning about the male body.
Terry folded his arms behind his head and watched.
After a while, I curled my hand around his penis and it immediately hardened.
“Amazing,” I said. I squeezed, and it hardened even more.
Terry groaned. “I’m not sure I can go another round so soon.”
“Oh, you’re safe. I just want to see.” I concentrated on his penis, watching his reaction when I squeezed and let go. “Show me what feels good.”
“It all feels good.” His voice sounded strained. I glanced up and saw beads of sweat on his forehead.
“Show me. I want to learn what pleases you.”
He reached down, covered my hand with his, and showed me. This time he was the one clutching the sheet with both hands.
I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing, but I tried to mimic the x-rated movies I’d seen years ago and took him into my mouth.
It seemed like just a few seconds, but soon he whispered urgently that if I didn’t want to taste him, I’d better immediately pull away. But I didn’t move.
Moments later, lying beside Terry, I felt so smug that I’m sure I was grinning like the Cheshire cat from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Propping my head in my hand and watching, I calmly waited until he began to breathe a little more normally.
“I’m hungry,” I finally said. “Want a snack?”
“Lord above, woman. I need something. You’re gonna kill me.”
Laughing, I rolled out of bed. Always, in my married life, I kept my robe by my side of the bed so I could slip into it immediately after sex. I wasn’t exactly ashamed of my body, but since I knew I was lacking, I didn’t show it off. Now, I stood nude and leisurely made for the bathroom.
Feeling Terry’s heavy-lidded eyes watching me, I exaggerated my walk, swinging my hips like a sex kitten. When I glanced back at him, he winked at me like a lecherous old man.
I laughed and changed direction, strolling to his side of the bed. I leaned down to give him a kiss.
“Damn, I’m a lucky man,” he said with a grin.
Heading for the bathroom, I donned my robe, letting it hang open. In the kitchen, while gathering ingredients for soup and salad, I found myself smiling. I’d smiled more with Terry in the past couple of days than I had in my entire life. If I didn’t quit, the men in the white coats would be after me.
Then the phone rang.
“Mom?” It was Shanna’s voice.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Hi honey. I’m so glad to hear from you.” For some absurd reason, I tightened and belted my robe.
“Do you have some time? I just wanted to talk.”
Something was wrong. Shanna never called to just chat. “Are you okay? Kyle? And Leif?”
“We’re okay, Mom. I just needed to hear your voice.”
“What’s wrong, honey? How’s your pregnancy going?”
There was only silence on the other end. I gripped the phone. What on earth was wrong?
“Mom,” Shanna finally said, her voice a whisper, “can you come? I’ve been bleeding, and I’m scared.”
Oh no. “How bad?”
“It was just a little spotting, and it’s stopped now, but the doctor wants me to take it easy.” She laughed. “You can imagine trying to take it easy with Kyle around.”
I wanted to rush to my baby, but I couldn’t go now. My commission hadn’t come through yet and I’d cut up my credit cards. My bank account balance was almost zero and I didn’t have money to pay for a plane ticket. Damn, everything was such a mess. If I didn’t get more sales coming in, I couldn’t even pay the mortgage, much less plane fare.
“I’m so sorry, honey. What does the doctor say? Is there any danger of miscarriage?”
“You know how doctors are. He says any bleeding in the first twenty-two weeks can be dangerous, but he also said many women experience spotting.”
“Are they doing anything else? How about putting you in the hospital?”
“He doesn’t think that’s necessary yet. They’re doing some hormone tests. I guess I’m just wanting my mommy.”
“Oh, honey, I wish I could be there.”
“Why can’t you? Surely you can get away now.”
How could I tell her what had happened? I didn’t want to risk upsetting her, not now when she was bleeding. Yet I didn’t want her to think I didn’t care. I suddenly remembered a new credit card that had been in the mail with one of those introductory offers. The only problem was that I’d tossed it in the garbage. Had I thrown the trash out? But even if I filled it out, it would take a few days to get approved. Oh Lord, what should I do? I felt helpless and even more angry at Mac for putting me in this position.
Terry entered the kitchen, and after a quick peck on my cheek, rinsed the coffee pot and refilled it. I waved, trying to get his attention so he’d keep quiet. The last thing I wanted was for Shanna to know about Terry. At least not yet. Since he was rummaging in the cupboards and didn’t see me, I went to him and made keep quiet gestures, pointing to the phone.
“What’s going on, Mom?”
“Just getting something to drink.”
Not realizing it was Shanna, Terry laughed.
“Is that a man? Mom, do you have a man there?”
“It’s the repairman, honey.” Repair for what? I went totally blank. I frantically gestured to Terry. Help! “The, uh, faucet, uh, plugged up.” Shit. That didn’t even make sense.
“How could you get something to drink if the faucet was plugged? Mom, something’s going on.” Her voice changed, became harder. “Are you seeing someone? Is that why you won’t come here?”
I had to tell her everything. But how? What was the best way to explain things so it wouldn’t endanger her or her baby? “That’s not the reason, Shanna. I need to talk—”
“Not the reason? So there is a man involved?”
“Honey, let me explain—”
“How could you? How could you have someone so quickly after Dad died? Well, forget coming here. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your new life.” Then she hung up.
Feeling breathless, I stared at the dead phone.
“Honey?” Terry said. “You okay?”
I know I looked in his direction, but I couldn’t get my voice to work. As if in slow motion, I looked at the phone, still clutched in my hands. Terry gently pried it out of my hands, placed it on the table, and folded me in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, honey. If I’d known, I would’ve stayed in the bedroom.”
I rested my head on his shoulder, and when my legs gave way, he picked me up and carried me to the bed.
The next couple of hours passed in a daze. I slept, woke, and slept again. Terry was always near, sitting on the chair next to the bed, and one time when I woke, he was lying next to me, his mouth slightly open in a gentle snore. I snuggled next to him and went back to sleep.
When I woke again, I heard the clink of pots and pans from the kitchen and caught the spicy tomatoey aroma of spaghetti sauce. My stomach rumbled and I realized it was around nine and I was hungry. After spl
ashing my face with cold water and clearing the fuzz from my mouth, I made my way to the kitchen.
The table was set for two, and Terry stood at the sink rinsing the noodles. Squinting in the harsh overhead light, I filled a cup with cold coffee and stuck it in the microwave.
Terry put the noodles on the table and gave me a hug. “Feel better?”
I nodded. The microwave dinged, so I fixed my coffee and took a sip. “Need some help?” I asked, eyeing the table.
“Nope, about got it. Hope you’re hungry, ‘cause I think I fixed enough for four.” Besides spaghetti, he’d made a tossed salad, hot garlic bread and a fruit salad for dessert. We didn’t talk much over dinner, just kept it light. After dessert, we left the dishes and wandered into the living room.
He sprawled onto the wing chair. “Want to talk about it?” He opened his arms in invitation and I settled in my favorite place, on his lap with my head on his shoulder.
Over the next couple of hours, I told him about Shanna and me and finally, what she’d said in our last conversation.
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t risk her pregnancy by telling her about her father, but I don’t want her to think I don’t care.”
“You’re going to have to tell her sooner or later.”
“I know. Just not now.”
“Honey, you have to go to her. She’s your daughter and there’s no other way.”
I knew he was right, but why did this have to happen now? And why couldn’t I ever seem to get things together?
“Don’t worry about the money,” Terry said. I’ll pay.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I can’t let you do that.”
“Let’s don’t waste time arguing about it. Your daughter needs you, and, you may not realize it, but you need her.” Before I could say another thing, Terry went on. “How soon could you be ready?”
How soon? I sat up.
“I’d have to get clothes together, call the office, make reservations, and....”
Terry picked up the phone. “I’m going to get you on the next plane out of here. I suggest you go pack.”
“But I can’t just leave, not like this.”
