“You see, honey, there are a million things I want to pursue.”
“Same here.” Marsha smiled, wishing she could join Blake downstairs and tell him she loved him more now.
He sighed, looking around the audience they inched closer to him.
“But... I can’t do it with you.” Blake pushed them away and walked out.
Did she hear that right? Her palms moistened.
A huge pause filled the street.
“What did he say?” Dominique asked.
A reporter ran after him.
“I... I need to find myself. I’m sorry, Marsha.” He shoved the mic away from his face.
A wave of anxiety washed upon her. Marsha was dumbfounded, her head glued to the window pane as she watched her husband slip away into the crowd. What did he just say?
A man booed, another person clapped his hands, then the crowd became rowdy and Dominique yelled for the cameraman to cut the scene.
“What’s the meaning of all this, Marsha?” Dominique approached her. “Were you aware this was going to happen?”
Shirley came to the rescue again. “We can still salvage the show. Just say it’s a lovers’ quarrel.”
But Dominique ignored her while she darted her eyes back and forth toward Marsha and the cameraman.
Tricia handed Marsha the champagne glass, but all Marsha could do was dash to the door.
This isn’t happening! How can Blake walk away from me? Twenty-five years of marriage down the drain.
C H A P T E R 2
Heart pounding, Marsha passed through the back door so nobody would see her. She blended in with the pedestrians walking the busy streets of San Francisco. A flock of seagulls soared above the sky. Oblivious to the cars honking, all Marsha could think of was Blake’s cold words playing on her mind—his nonchalant expression—his indifference like she didn’t exist. How could he fucking leave her? And the way he humiliated her in front of millions of viewers was uncalled for.
A cab screeched in front of Marsha and the driver flipped her off. She continued to walk while the drivers honked their horns. Her stomach growled and she wasn’t aware of how many miles she had walked, but the Chinese restaurants and shops informed Marsha she was in Chinatown.
Thunder clapped and raindrops came crashing down. Marsha received dark stares like she was a jilted lover still wearing her wedding dress, but what was she supposed to do? Nothing prepared her for this day. Absolutely nothing!
“Shit.” Marsha darted inside a lingerie shop and squeezed the water from her hair. Two women filled their cart with thong panties. A long line snaked its way to the cash register. Toward the right were scented candles and accessories for women to seduce men. Sex toys were also displayed on the shelves.
I need to get out of here. Marsha twisted her body in a different direction and slipped, knocking the vibrators down to the floor.
A Chinese sales clerk glared at her.
“I’m sorry.” Marsha bent down and picked up the items in shame.
The woman grasped the products from Marsha and mumbled something in Chinese.
“I’m really sorry,” Marsha repeated.
Rain continued to pour outside and the wind willed her to remain inside the shop, yet still she inched her way to the back door.
There’s a NO ENTRY FOR ANYONE BELOW 18 sign displayed. Marsha entered, hoping she could escape.
A black and white painting of a naked man and woman is displayed on the wall. She spotted a nude mixed Caucasian and Asian woman with pale, flawless skin, long jet-black hair and hazel eyes reclined on a sofa with her body glued to a man who looked like a model from a Romance novel.
Three middle-aged women who were painting turned their eyes to Marsha.
“I’m sorry, but I thought this was the back exit.” She covered her mouth. “OMG! It’s you! The controversial Dr. Lee.”
Dr. Lee rose and approached Marsha. “Dr. Caufield, whoever thought we would meet again?” A wry smile crept across one corner of her mouth.
Marsha observed the women but looked away right after. She opened her mouth but no words appeared. She never expected to see Dr. Lee, her college classmate, who eventually became a sex coach who not only counsels patients but blogs about controversial subjects that go against Marsha’s beliefs in having a healthy relationship. This is such a crazy day.
“You two know each other?” A woman wearing a red scarf asks.
Marsha eyed Dr. Lee.
Dr. Lee grinned. “Ladies, although Dr. Caufield and I don’t see eye to eye, there’s a reason why our paths crossed again.”
Marsha folded her arms and pursed her lips. “What are you some kind of psychic now?” Her erect nipples are right in front of Marsha’s view. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“So, this is your office.” Marsha studied the place.
Dr. Lee raised her eyebrows. “Welcome to my crib.”
Marsha rolled her eyes. “I should go.”
The man rose from his seat and joined them. “I’m Alan. Care to paint?”
Marsha cringed and averted her gaze to the floor. Great! Two naked people in front of me. “I don’t remember when the last time I painted was.”
“You can start now,” he said.
Marsha hesitated but grabbed a chair and sat down beside the three ladies. She knew if she headed back to her office, Shirley and Tricia would be looking for her. Digging inside her purse, she noticed there are fifteen missed calls from Tricia. None from Blake. She turned off her phone.
Dr. Lee pulled a sketch board from the corner and positioned it near Marsha. Dr. Lee and Alan settled back on the couch. He traced his fingers from her arm down to her waist which made her giggle in delight.
Marsha drew a few lines but ended up poking the board. “I can’t do this.”
The woman wearing a scarf stared at Marsha’s wedding dress and patted her back. “You’ll survive. We all did.”
Great, now the tables have turned and they’re giving her advice. Marsha covered her face. “And you think a naked portrait of them will make you feel better?”
The ladies exchanged glances and Dr. Lee reclined her seat. Alan winked at Marsha.
Marsha quivered.
“We’re here to explore our sensuality,” A woman with a black shirt said.
Marsha approached the door. “I’m sorry but I’ve seen enough.”
“Wait!” Dr. Lee called out to Marsha.
Marsha turned her head as Dr. Lee exited to the bathroom. She appeared wearing a robe and carrying a towel.
Marsha gazed at Dr. Lee whose eyes were glued to the light drizzle pitter patter on the pavement from the window. She’s so confident.
Dr. Lee approached her, kneeled down and dried Marsha’s legs with the towel. “You’re soaked. The rain’s gone, but you can stay if you want.”
“Thank you, but I must leave.”
Dr. Lee pulled out a lipstick from her pocket and applied it on Marsha’s lips. Marsha closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.
“There you go,” Dr. Lee said. “A woman should always be beautiful even if she’s drenched.”
Marsha flipped her eyes open. “Thank you.”
She reached for a business card on her way out and shook her head. Dr. Lee, the Sex Coach, is the last person I wanted to see. Laughter escaped her mouth. She wept shortly after.
C H A P T E R 3
Traffic is jammed during the five o’clock rush hour. Pedestrians hovered together like centipedes. Marsha marched down the street in a hurry. A parade blocked her view. Drum rolls, trumpets and a huge crowd clapped as she reached the pavement of Blake’s office.
A flock of birds soared above and bird poop lands on Marsha’s shoulder. Sighing, Marsha grabbed a tissue from her purse to wipe it off.
Marsha waited outside the building then glanced at her watch. She looked behind her and gasped. Blake appeared wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. He turned to the right and Marsha trailed behind him. From ac
ross the street, Marsha spotted Blake enter the hotel. She followed him.
She maneuvered her way toward the elegant lobby gazing at the chandeliers above. At the check-in counter, men and women dressed in business suits lined up behind Blake. Marsha hid behind the post, studying her husband’s next move.
Blake took his keys and headed for the elevator. Before it closed, Marsha hopped in.
He pushed the button. His eyes opened wide upon seeing Marsha. “What are you doing here?”
Marsha pursed her lips and tightened the belt of her trench coat. “We need to talk.”
The elevator opened and they both stepped out, crossing the hallway in silence. Blake slid his key through the door and led her inside his suite.
He plopped his briefcase on the chair and loosened his tie.
Marsha remained standing in a corner. “I don’t understand what happened yesterday.”
Blake ran his fingers through his hair and paced around the room like a caged animal. “It’s complicated.”
“You humiliated me.”
“Because of your stupid idea to do it in front of your viewers,” he darted back at her. “I never wanted to renew our vows in public, but you needed to prove to everybody you’re Ms. Perfect.”
Marsha pointed a finger at him. “That doesn’t erase what you did.”
Blake rubbed his face with both hands. “I can’t explain what I’m going through.”
“Why are you running away from your problems?” She released an exasperated breath. “We can talk about this like mature adults.”
“I’m not one of your patients, Marsha.” Blake sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Is this what it’s about?”
He shook his head, like he was trying to find the right words. “I only need time for myself.”
“Time? How long?”
“For Christ’s sakes, I hate how you push me toward a corner and interrogate me like that. I don’t know.”
Her voice cracked. This wasn’t the Blake she knew—the Blake she married. “Who is she?”
“Don’t you go accusing me of another woman,” he said, sounding hurt.
Marsha approached the window and gazed at the sun setting beneath the Transamerica Pyramid building. She traced her fingers as if she was touching the pink sky, desperate to find a solution. She faced him. “Why can’t we work this out? Go through counseling, take a vacation, or do something. Please!”
Blake opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “Want one?”
“What has gotten into you? You used to hate drinking beer.”
Blake shrugged, snapped the tab and took a big gulp. He removed his long-sleeved shirt, baring a tribal tattoo on his right arm.
“Oh my God!” Marsha gasped. “What the hell, Blake?”
He sighed, clearly irritated by her voice. “What’s the big deal?”
“Perhaps you’re going through a phase and this will pass,” she said in resignation. “If there’s any consolation, we’re planning to hire another therapist. We can go to Paris, take a second honeymoon.”
“I need to figure things out. I want to pamper myself and be alone.”
“So this is it?” Marsha raised her hands in the air. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“I’m not breaking up with you.” Briefcase unfastened, he pulled out a brochure. “I’m going to Nepal.”
She couldn’t believe this was happening. Marsha helped thousands of couples restore their relationships and now she couldn’t find a way to get to her own husband. “Nepal? Do you want to be a monk?”
“Well perhaps I can find some answers while I’m there.”
“And what am I supposed to do while you’re in Nepal?”
Blake shrugged.
Marsha straightened her skirt and walked toward the door. “Really now, Blake. Well, let’s hope I’ll still be here when you get back.” She stormed out of the room.
***
Back at home, Marsha sat inside their dressing room. She spotted Blake’s army-green coat. Eyes shut, Marsha sniffed and held the coat close to her chest while she wept. How could Blake do this to her?
Marsha soon retired to her bed, tossing and turning as she tried to sleep. She choked on her cries.
Sunlight crept in and Marsha dried her eyes. She didn’t sleep a wink. Marsha reached for the picture frame on her night table and traced her fingers on Blake’s smile. You used to say I was your first lady, she thought, lost in sadness.
Marching down the stairs, Marsha decided that a walk will do her good. She glided slowly as she watched happy couples holding hands. She passed by the boutiques gearing up for spring with their new displays.
Thoughts of Blake and their wedding entered her mind. She could still feel the confetti the guests had thrown at them as they marched out of the chapel, waving goodbye. Everyone pictured them as the happiest couple. She still couldn’t fathom what was going on with Blake.
A blond lady walking four dogs stopped beside her. She opened her eyes wide when she spotted Marsha. “Hey, I know you. You’re the Love Guru.”
Marsha forced a smile as the lady tied the dog leashes to the railing.
“Can you give me advice regarding my boyfriend? How can I convince him to tie the knot?”
Marsha exploded into a hysterical laugh. “You believe marriage will make you happy? Think again. He might leave you.”
Marsha scurried away.
She called out to Marsha. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
Marsha continued to hobble away. If only she knew what I’m going through.
C H A P T E R 4
Marsha stared at the Chinese signs while men biking with their hats on and Chinese women carrying their children passed in front of her.
Across the street is Dr. Lee’s shop. She put one foot forward but took a step back. She didn’t know why she felt compelled to see Dr. Lee again but nothing made sense since that day Blake left.
She caught sight of Dr. Lee waving at her from the balcony.
Marsha spotted a vendor selling mangoes on a fruit stand and decided to buy some. Perhaps these mangoes will help ease the pain.
Dr. Lee wore a tight sleeveless white shirt with no bra, matching skinny white jeans and four-inch black high heels. Why does she always look so perfect? If only I had half the confidence she had right now.
She greeted her with a smile. “I knew you’d return. Come in.” She led Marsha inside and they both settled onto the leather couch.
“Hot tea?”
Marsha nodded.
Dr. Lee poured tea in a cup and handed it to Marsha.
“I’m not sure why I came, but I’m compelled to confide more in a stranger than someone close to me.”
“Male trouble, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t let your emotions overwhelm you. Take one day at a time.”
Marsha took a sip of her tea then narrated what transpired. “I’m still in shock. He got a tattoo, drinks beer, dresses weird and is not himself.”
“Oh my. He sounds like he’s having a mid-life crisis.”
Marsha gasped. How could I have overlooked that?
“Therapists can fail to notice problems involving their own marriage.”
Marsha folded her arms, realizing that Dr. Lee didn’t seem so bad at all. Her compassion is what Marsha needed now.
“It will be a roller coaster for awhile, but I can assure you, you’ll get over the pain.”
Marsha pressed her lips together still in denial about her troubled marriage. “But I’m not sure if I can.” Picturing all the happy memories she had with Blake was all she could think of. Not having him beside her was like losing an arm. Didn’t he miss her?
“Give him his space. One day, he’ll come to realize what a gem you truly are.”
“As it is, I’m a pathetic failure.” She felt lost without him and couldn’t stand the stillness of the night.
“You won’t discover how strong you are until you’ve experienced pa
in,” Dr. Lee said.
Marsha shrugged. “I can’t begin to describe what I’m going through.”
“What if I tell you the power lies in you?” Dr. Lee crossed her legs.
Marsha set the cup on the coffee table eager to learn how to fix her problem. “You sound so positive.”
“Someday, you’ll be able to raise your chin and conquer this.”
Marsha wiped her tears. Here she was listening to her nemesis counseling her when she was supposed to be the expert—the Love Guru.
Dr. Lee took Marsha’s hand. “You’re a beautiful and strong woman. You don’t realize what you’re capable of. The best is yet to come.”
Marsha pulled out her wedding photo from her wallet and showed it to Dr. Lee. “We were so happy.”
“Relax, be still and let go of the wheel. You’ll be surprised that great things happen when you’re not in control.”
Dr. Lee sounded like one of those life coaches who was filled with enthusiasm, but nothing she said lifted her spirits. Still, it was better than staying at home and being reminded that Blake was gone.
Dr. Lee moved closer to her and signaled Marsha to stand up and led her to a full-length mirror. “You can start by removing your coat. What are you hiding there?”
Marsha stiffened her shoulders as Dr. Lee gently removed her blazer and loosened the rubber band from her hair.
From behind, Dr. Lee combed Marsha’s long brown hair, pulling it forward.
“What are you doing?”
“A fragile woman is afraid to show who she is. Behind a big coat and power suit, you are a woman; gentle and vulnerable. There’s more to being Dr. Marsha Caufield.”
Marsha stared at herself in the mirror, remembering that she was only fourteen years old when she lost her mother. She held both her younger sisters hands as they say goodbye to their mother in the coffin. Marsha didn’t dare let her sisters see her cry—she needed to be strong for them. After counseling numerous patients who lost their spouses, Marsha finally understood the pain they felt.
Straightening her shoulders, Marsha faced Dr. Lee. “What exactly does a sex coach do?”
Mid-Life Crisis Diaries Page 2
