Summer in the City

by Irene Vartanoff

  They had to stop. She wasn’t ready to commit to the physicality of an affair. “I can’t.” She pulled away, her breasts heaving from the effort, every muscle on fire from the yearning to be part of him.

  She struggled with herself as he raised a hand in protest. She took his hand and held it in both of hers and squeezed. “Not before I tell you the rest.”

  He drew back, obviously struggling to compose himself.

  She said, “You haven’t asked, but I know you’ve been wondering why I’m living here this summer away from my husband.”

  He muttered something under his breath that sounded like, “Because he’s a fool.”

  She continued, determined now to tell him her feelings. “Faithfulness is complicated. I wasn’t being a faithful wife to Rick when I spiraled into my selfish grief and shut him out.” She looked at Michael directly then. “He wasn’t faithful to me when he had sex with another woman during our daughter’s wedding reception.”

  Michael cursed. “So that’s it.”

  “That’s why I’ve been giving you mixed signals about whether I’m a free woman or not. Our marriage is on hiatus. When I came to New York for the summer, Rick specifically urged me to have a fling.”

  Michael cursed again. “Is he crazy?”

  She didn’t add that only mutual stubbornness and loyalty had kept them from filing for divorce. Their marriage was broken. They had destroyed the trust they’d had in each other for so many years. There wasn’t much left between them except loyalty and the comfort of old habits. Rick didn’t need a wife as messed up as she was, and she hated and despised the drunkenness that had helped him make his mistake.

  When Rick had an idea, he got stubborn with it. A summer affair for her was his way of making things even. Easy for him to say, but impossible for her to do. She didn’t know how. Her feelings were already entangled with Michael. Here she was, actively building a deep relationship with another man. They hadn’t even gotten to sex.

  “I’m supposed to have some meaningless sex, and then we’ll be even. Or more than even. Or something.”

  “I’m happy to oblige,” Michael joked, obviously trying to lighten her mood.

  She contradicted him emphatically. “That’s not true. Even Bev warned me that I could break your heart.”

  He looked as if he wanted to argue that point, but he let her go on.

  “I don’t want to hurt you because I’m such a mess,” she said.

  “Who says you are?”

  “I do. I have never, not once, made love with my husband and been as carried away as I am merely by kissing you.” At that confession, Michael’s eyes went hot. A knowing smile began to curve his lips.

  “I’m scared,” she said. “If we go farther, there’s a big risk that we could both be deeply hurt.”

  “I’ll take that chance,” he said. His voice was deep. “I promise I will never hurt you.”

  “You don’t understand. I’ve never felt like this before.” She pointed at the park bench a few feet away that she had been avoiding. “When I’m with you, I keep thinking of potential places where we could make love. Like that bench.”

  At her vivid words, Michael leaned down and picked her up in his arms, catching her knees and holding her tightly. He carried her to the bench and sat down with her on his lap. Then he caressed one foot in its absurd red heel.

  “You have sexy feet, do you know?” he remarked. She squirmed. He grasped her ankle and raised her leg, turning her body and positioning her leg so she was facing him in his lap.

  “Is this the way you envisioned us making love?” he asked, dangerously. One hand gently caressed her breasts while the other braced her hips.

  Utterly inflamed by her vulnerable position, she leaned forward and ground her pelvis against him. “More like this,” she replied.

  He stiffened and groaned. Heavy layers of clothing separated them but they were both on fire. His hands grasped her hips tighter and rubbed her against his straining manhood.

  “Like this, darling?” he asked.

  She flung her head back and gasped for breath as he pressed his lips to her breasts. After she caught her breath, she said, “Exactly like that, but with less clothing. We’ve got to stop. It’s too much.”

  He crushed her closer. “Are you sure?” he asked. As he ground her against him, his other hand touched her breasts again. A zing went from her aching nipples directly to the core of her female parts. She went rigid. “Oh. Oh, Michael.” She fell apart in his arms.

  ***

  Afterward, he persuaded her to take a shower. With him. They washed each other. He paid particular attention to her saggy stomach and wrinkly thighs. So much attention that she returned the favor to a rigid part of his anatomy. They explored and played like teenagers.

  Later, wrapped in huge fluffy towels, they simply sat on the marble tub surround in his large bathroom. The storm was over for now. She’d gotten so carried away. She’d hardly recognized herself. “I’ve never…done that before. Ever,” she said.

  “When? In the shower? Or up on the roof?”

  She blushed a little. “You’re going to make me talk about it all, aren’t you?”

  “Are you still afraid?” His hand was lightly caressing her right shoulder, from which the towel had slipped.

  “We didn’t even, we never…”

  “There was no penetration or intercourse, or whatever technical term you want to use,” he said. “But there will be unless we put you back in your clothes and get you home.” He looked at her frankly. “Your choice, my lady.”

  She roused herself. “I have to think. I feel completely confused.”

  “All right.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. Michael wasn’t fighting her effort to pull back. Instead, he radiated the satisfaction of a lazy cat. When she stood, he gallantly helped her locate and step into her colorful cotton panties, and he patiently hooked her bra, taking particular care to make sure that her breasts were in the cups. She could barely breathe from his help. Then he found her blouse, and smoothed it on, exquisitely arranging it across her chest. Finally, her slacks. Somehow, his large hands were inside them as he slid them up her legs. When his hand went to the front zipper, she could bear no more. She put her hand over his, which was gently touching a very private place.

  “You are the worst sort of tease,” she said sternly.

  He smiled a slow smile. “I want you to have something to remember me by. When you’re sitting at home worrying about the meaning of all this. The future and all the rest. I want you to remember the sheer animal pleasure of having sex the way you were born to have it. Naturally. Without thought. Honestly.”

  “You’re very confident,” she said, somewhat piqued.

  “Call it the enthusiasm of my youth, since you’re so concerned about our age gap.”

  His blatant male sexual confidence was stunning. Something had shifted in their relationship. She was still trying to set limits, but Michael was signaling that he intended to crash past them. Tonight he would wait, because he knew the eventual victory was his.

  She practically turned tail and fled. She insisted on taking a cab home alone. No, she would not see him the next day. No, she would not call him or answer his calls. Or emails. Michael didn’t like it, but she was holding him off again, in a last-ditch effort at control. At any moment, he was going to smash her defenses.

  Chapter 21

  The shock of her wanton behavior enabled Susan to be strong the next day and refuse Michael’s attempt to see her later. She was still fretting that evening, as she, Rona, and Bev had a girls’ night out, their first in twenty-five years, in Central Park. Rona had called earlier and invited them to a picnic in conjunction with a free concert, just the three women. Susan was still wondering how they had come to do anything so friendly, when only days ago Rona had told Bev to go home. She herself had been ready to abandon New York and run back to Ohio rather than be near Bev another instant. Now, they were strolling one of the park
’s many paths, heading for Sheep’s Meadow, the vast open space where concerts were given.

  “This probably won’t work out,” Bev remarked.

  “What’s so difficult about a picnic in the park?” Rona asked.

  “No, I mean the three of us trying to act as if we were young again. Which we are not.”

  “Speak for yourself, honey,” Rona purred, “I plan to have it till I’m ninety.”

  Susan replied more thoughtfully. “I see your point. Twenty-five years ago, when I was a young married, and you were a student, and Rona here was having her grand affair, the world was full of possibility. We’d get together without our men and talk big talk about our futures.”

  “Now it’s just one damn thing after another,” Bev said.

  Rona started laughing. “You’re the youngest of us. You should be the most optimistic.”

  “Maybe she’s looking at all the years of work ahead of her,” Susan said. “She’s still got to get her girls through school and then college. That’s a big commitment.”

  “You got it, sister. That’s why I need to make that bastard Todd get with the program.”

  “Any progress?” Rona asked, as they wove their way through many clumps of picnickers. Finally, they found a good spot, and Rona and Bev laid their blanket. Susan busied herself unpacking food and drinks.

  “Aside from him calling me names and me calling him names, no.”

  Susan didn’t want to ask, but Rona evidently had no such reservations. “What the hell is the matter with Todd? What caused this ruckus in the first place?”

  “He’s constantly stepping out on me, and this time, he did it so the girls found out about it. Some bimbo came to our house—our house, damn her—and said she’d had his baby,” she said flatly. “Look, let’s not talk about it anymore. It’s a downer.”

  “Isn’t that what a gaggle of young girls talks about? If we were still young, we’d be analyzing our men to death.”

  “I’d like to club the cheater to death and be done with him.” Bev said sourly.

  “Don’t be so mealy-mouthed,” Rona jibed. Susan raised her eyebrow, but Bev started laughing.

  “Hey, I know what that means. I went to college. Worked for this crazy lady professor.”

  “Who was very magnanimous and sometimes egregious,” Susan added, giggling.

  “Yeah, a real bitch, in fact.”

  “Better than being a Boca bitch,” Rona shot back good-humoredly.

  “I may live in Boca, but I’m not one of those. Look at my fingernails.” Bev showed them around. “See, normal length, not blood red, not a fancy French manicure.”

  “Not even a single rhinestone inlay,” Rona approved, “I’m impressed.”

  “No plastic surgery yet, either. Although being a surgeon’s wife, it’s kinda required.”

  “Would you really do that?” Susan asked, scandalized.

  “I might have to, to keep Todd.”

  At the silence that greeted that, Bev continued, “Look, I know you two think he’s a jerk. He can be. But he’s my husband. My girls need a full-time father. I want the marriage to continue.”

  Susan said, “We do, too.” She stifled a selfish thought that if Bev and Todd reunited, then Bev would go home.

  Rona sighed, “Marriage is always held up as the necessary situation for women, but statistically, women are less happy if they marry.”

  “Does that mean you and Edward aren’t going to tie the knot at last?” Bev asked. Then she held up her hand to ward off Rona’s surprise. “Louis loves to gossip. You oughta know that by now.”

  Rona looked a little tense. “Nothing has been decided.”

  “What about telling him—?” Susan started to say, but was interrupted as the symphony began. She was glad because she suddenly remembered that Bev didn’t know about Nancy. Then again, if Louis did, maybe Bev knew after all.

  When the final crescendo sounded, they packed up and headed home instead of lingering in the twilight. Many others had the same idea, so it was a mass of people who walked out of the park as the sky darkened.

  Things took a different turn back at the apartment. Rona had come up for a nightcap, although she’d actually declined wine for once and was drinking sparkling water. Making faces at it, too. Susan was nursing her usual glass of ice water. Bev was having a cream soda.

  Perhaps emboldened by Rona’s presence, Bev asked Susan, “Are you and Michael still dating? You came home awfully late last night.”

  “I could have seen a movie,” Susan replied mildly.

  “Sure, you could have. But you wouldn’t have returned with that goofy grin on your face. C’mon. Fess up.”

  She hoped she didn’t look as shocked as she felt. Bev’s powers of observation were too acute. Maybe because of Todd’s constant philandering. Well, there was nothing to hide.

  “Yes, we’re dating.”

  “Did you do it yet?” Rona asked idly.

  “Of course not,” Susan said. “Well, not exactly.”

  “Ah, the heavy petting stage. How teenage of you,” Rona said, smiling.

  “Don’t do it,” Bev urged. She was obviously upset. “What can you offer him? You’re married.”

  “Maybe he just wants the sex, honey,” Rona said.

  “No, Mikey is a sincere guy. Anyway, why are you getting involved with a man at all? You’re married.”

  Bev was a broken record. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business.” Susan replied stiffly.

  “It is when you’re going to break the heart of my old friend,” Bev said, her voice rising. “How could you do that?”

  “Well, if we’re going to debate breaking marriage vows, how could you have sex with my husband at my daughter’s wedding reception?” she threw back, suddenly sick of the pretense that she and Bev were anything but antagonists.

  “What? I never heard that before,” Rona cried out.

  “If you had, maybe you wouldn’t have saddled me with an unwanted houseguest who happened to also betray me with my own husband last year,” she said angrily. She turned to Bev. “It’s a wonder you dare to face me at all. Or were you too drunk to even know who you screwed that night?”

  “You holier-than-thou bitch!” Bev shot back. “You’ve been denying your own husband sex for three years! Three years! What kind of woman does that to a man?”

  “He told you that?” she whispered, humiliated.

  “Yeah, he did, you self-righteous tramp,” Bev continued with a sneer.

  Susan was crushed. She couldn’t speak in her own defense.

  Rona said sharply to Bev, “What the hell is wrong with you? It’s not Susan’s fault you chose to have sex with her husband.”

  “I’m sick of being treated like dirt by the two of you,” Bev yelled back. “You both despise me, and neither of you have any right. You had a long-term affair with a married man and then had a secret pregnancy by him. And don’t blame Louis for telling me. I figured it out at the time. In fact, I saved your ass back then, because I was the one who made sure that your biggest enemy got caught with his pants down with a student. That scandal forced away attention from your sudden wardrobe change to overblouses, and you got to keep your precious career while he lost his.”

  Rona’s gasp was audible. “Blair. You fixed Blair.”

  Bev nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

  She turned on Susan. “As for you, you sanctimonious hypocrite, when you buried your son, you tried to bury your marriage, too. The man was desperate for some human touch, you cold bitch. Don’t yell at me because in a moment of fellow-feeling, I was willing to do a mercy screw with the husband you kept rejecting.”

  Susan wanted to rush at Bev and slap her mouth shut, but she couldn’t seem to move. Her worst sin was coming to light.

  “That’s low, anyway you frame it,” Rona said, having recovered enough to reply. “Does Todd know? Is that why you two won’t kiss and make up?”

  Bev subsided into a sulk. “It was just the one time.” />
  “That makes it okay? I don’t think so.” Rona stood. “I’m not dealing with any more of this tonight.”

  She bent a stern look on Bev. “You can say all you want about my affair with Edward. I’ve had twenty-five years to realize that I shouldn’t have done it. You’ve got no right to blame Susan for what she did or didn’t do because of her grief over Kyle’s death. None of us are certain how we’d behave when something that bad happens to us.”

  Rona put her glass on the nearby tray.

  “Get your own house in order, Bev, and don’t mess with Susan’s. Do it fast. We’re both getting sick of you acting like a judgmental bitch.”

  Rona left. Susan didn’t bother cleaning up the glasses. Instead, she went to her bedroom and closed the door.

  As she lay on her bed, she pondered the worst sin of her life, not having the heart to return to making love with her own husband after her mental breakdown. After Kyle died, she couldn’t even pretend she cared. She still had affection for Rick and felt loyalty to him but there was no desire anymore.

  She had always thought sex was overrated. Until she met Michael, she had thought that all the romantic descriptions in the world were fakes, the daydreams of lonely women bored with their unimaginative spouses or boyfriends. Her mistake.

  She and Rick had come to the crossroads. If she couldn’t find it in her heart to be his wife in the fullest sense, they had to end their marriage despite all the reasons they had to stay together. She started to cry. Maybe she wasn’t crazy in love with Rick, but she loved him. He had hurt her horribly by forbidding her to be with him this summer. Her mandate was to be selfish, and she was trying her best. It all came back to the tangle of her marriage, and his needs, and her needs, and all the pain that had accumulated over the years. Pain that, when she was with Michael, she forgot entirely.

  ***