Mid-Life Crisis Diaries

Home > Other > Mid-Life Crisis Diaries > Page 8
Mid-Life Crisis Diaries Page 8

by Solon, Geraldine


  The two of them sat there for a while in silence, never looking at each other. With arms stretched out behind them so they would have something to lean on, Andre inched his hand closer to hers and rested his palm on her wrist. The human touch during that moment pricked Marsha’s heart, and tears fell from her eyes.

  Andre leaned over and kissed her wet cheek. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

  C H A P T E R 14

  Once they got back to the condo to change, the mood had shifted between them. There was more of a somber feeling in the air than had been to that point, and Marsha couldn’t tell if it bothered her or not. Andre was quieter than normal, but his smiles on the way back to the room let her know there was nothing to fear in the way of over-stepped boundaries, which eased her nerves. It had hurt a bit to share with him about Blake, because it reminded her that she did once love him very much. She saw in him things that she wished she saw in herself: a love of life, a sense of adventure, a constant pursuing of things ahead. She had grown accustomed to settling in to life, and making sure that money flowed in and bills were paid, and she knew she’d lost the zeal she felt when she was younger. But didn’t everyone do that? That was normal, right?

  Marsha let herself in to the room and rummaged through her suitcase for something to wear to dinner. “There’s pineapple in the fridge, all ready to eat, if you want a snack before we go. I’ll just take a quick shower.”

  Andre nodded and gathered his clothes from where he’d laid them on the bed, heading toward the spare bedroom to take a shower. When Marsha emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing a tank top with no bra underneath, just as she’d seen Dr. Lee do. Her new skirt was wrapped around her waist, lower than she had worn anything in years, but still appropriate for her age. Only lipstick graced her face in place of full makeup. Andre was perched against the kitchen counter, eating the pineapple. She smiled at him, remembering her time enjoying the fruit on the back patio.

  “You look beautiful,” he told her, walking over to stand in front of her. He perched a large piece of pineapple on the end of the fork and held it to her mouth. When she opened it to take a bite, he rubbed it on her lips before sliding it into her mouth. The sensation, coupled with the look on his face, sent shivers down her stomach in a way that she hadn’t felt in years. He looked pleased, and watched her chew through a hard, girlish grin. She was sure she felt her cheeks flush, and she swallowed the fruit awkwardly before taking a step back.

  “One more before we go?” Andre asked, pushing a piece of pineapple around inside the bowl.

  He stepped closer to her, placing one of his gorgeous feet between hers, and held out another piece. Her neck grew warm and her thighs tightened a bit, though she hoped he wouldn’t notice. Marsha was pretty sure the gentleman in front of her could have anyone he wanted, and he surely wouldn’t want her in that way. But she opened her mouth just the same, pushing her tongue forward to cover her bottom teeth.

  “Close your eyes,” he said softly.

  Without thinking, she did. He touched the fruit to her top lip, and traced around her mouth with it, running it back and forth over the tip of her tongue. Before he allowed her to grasp it, Marsha felt his warm breath on her neck and she let out a quick breath accidentally. Gently, Andre ran his lips down her neck as he slid the fruit into her mouth. Instantly, while she chewed, her ears started ringing and the hairs on her arms stood up. Just the simple touch felt so amazing, and she kicked herself for not putting herself in a position to feel it every day.

  He lingered there, on her neck, tracing it lightly with his mouth and breathing easily on her skin. When she swallowed, he backed away and touched the tip of her nose with his finger, still holding the fork. His smile was that of pure pleasure.

  “I’m so happy to be able to make someone feel like that. Thank you.” Andre pulled the plastic wrap over the bowl and slid it back into the fridge. Only he could make something so amazing seem like such a beautiful gesture between souls.

  “Thank you,” she answered back. Not sure of how to respond properly.

  “One more thing.” Andre disappeared and returned with a necklace. He put his hands on her shoulders and spun her away from him, fastening it around her neck.

  “Let’s go get some dinner and maybe we can have dessert when we get back.”

  Without giving herself one moment to consider what such an attractive, forward, confident young man could possibly mean by that, she grabbed her purse and followed him out the door. Again, he locked it behind her and touched the small of her back on the way down the path. Only this time, her skin was on fire, though she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

  When they pulled up to the restaurant, it was nearly dark out. Marsha worried that they would have to eat in a hurry, but once she saw where they would be eating, she decided not to care. It was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. La Palapa, the sign said. When the host showed them to a table, Marsha could hardly take her eyes off the place. There were linen tablecloths on every table, sturdy wooden chairs with sweet little cushions tied to them, and the lighting in the whole place looked like something out of a fine cuisine magazine. Everything was a creamy white, golden, or a reddish wood color. It oozed romance and comfort, and Marsha never wanted to leave.

  “Have you been here before?”

  “Oh yes, their pay de coco y canela is a real treat. We’ll get it for dessert if you like.” He eyed her as he laid his napkin in his lap. “Or perhaps we’ll find something when we get back.”

  Marsha tucked a stray hair behind her ear and rubbed her earlobe, suddenly finding incredible interest in looking at the menu. Focusing on her breathing was easier said than done, but she managed to get it together while skimming through the items. With the mix of Spanish and English on the menu, it took her a few minutes to decide what she wanted, but she finally settled on the tuna. Once they had ordered, Andre rattled off a wine selection, which the waiter left to retrieve.

  While he was gone, a couple that was seated a few tables away from them had ordered something that was on fire. Andre informed her that it was their flaming coffee show, and they watched as a man expertly poured flaming liquid from one silver container to another, and then into a clear goblet. The whole waterfall of liquid was on fire, landing perfectly where it was intended, met with a round of applause from the table it was presented to. Marsha’s eyes must have been bigger than she’d imagined, because Andre’s smile was wider than she’d ever seen it.

  “You like it?”

  “I do.” She smiled. “I don’t know why. I’ve eaten at plenty of fine restaurants, but the little touches like that just always bring out the little kid in me. I love it!” She joined in the last bit of applause before bending down to reach inside her purse.

  “So you often eat at places like this in the states, then?” Andre asked as she placed her phone in her lap.

  “Well, they’re not this relaxing, to be honest. But I think that says more about the company I’m with than the place itself.” She stopped herself and put her forearm on the table, stroking her water glass. “I don’t mean to sound like things were always terrible, you know. I’m not meaning to do that.” Her frown shortly interrupted by the waiter filling their wine glasses, she smiled and nodded in silence until he was gone. “I just mean that we drifted apart, is all. You asked how things were when we were first together, and when we walked in to this restaurant tonight, I was reminded of something. Blake loved to make everything into an occasion. Birthdays, promotions…of which there have been plenty…meeting a deadline, everything is a cause for a celebration. That meant dinner at places like this, with wow moments like that fire-y coffee.” She smiled again, watching the couple enjoy their treat a few tables across from them. “Blake would always order for me, which I find endearing. It made me feel like I was in high school and my boyfriend was ordering my food. Dumb, probably, but I liked it. Over time, he knew what I liked, and I enjoyed letting him order it. He used to love ordering me things I’d never tr
ied before and then waiting to see if I liked them or not. And since money wasn’t usually an issue, if I hated it we would just laugh about it and order something else. Or he would share his food and we would double up on dessert.”

  Andre nodded and sipped his wine, never breaking eye contact with her.

  “But eventually, I had to start creating reasons to celebrate, because the dinner table conversation became less and less interesting and we stopped going just for fun. If I didn’t have a milestone to celebrate, we would end up not talking at all. He would check his phone or answer work emails, and I would do the same. Or at least pretend to. Truthfully, I missed him ordering for me and feeding me from across the table.” Marsha adjusted her skirt under her legs and smiled. “One of my favorite things that he would do was sit right next to me. He, or the waiter, would pull my chair out first…and then Blake would take the chair next to mine.” She laughed. “The waiters always stared at him like he’d made a mistake, and he loved that. He used to say he wanted to sit by his best girl, and that it was harder to share food when we were so far apart.”

  A long silence gave her time enough to take a few swigs of wine and watch Andre’s face for a response.

  “That’s really sweet,” he finally said. Nothing he ever did was in a hurry, and his response to her story was no different. “It reminds me,” he said. “When Layla and I first started actually dating, you know when we made if official, I would always put one of my feet up on her chair, and she would rest her hand on it. Sometimes she would play with my ankle while we talked, and if she was in a playful mood she would reach under and tickle the back of my knee. As you said, it sounds ridiculous, but she could be fun. And I appreciated that. The ability to tickle me and make me bang my knee on the underside of the table, and then laugh at me! Well, that was something I loved.”

  They both sighed and Andre reached his hand across the table. Marsha placed hers inside of it and he stroked the back of her wrist with his fingers. When their appetizer arrived, Marsha felt the pang of regret, not sharing this beautiful meal with her husband, and her appetite waned. Even though Blake was not there by his own choice, it still hurt that she wouldn’t be able to share the memory with him even if they did get back together. She looked down in her lap and clicked the button on the side of her phone, waiting for it to turn on.

  C H A P T E R 15

  During appetizers, they shared with each other the subtle differences in their situations. While Andre was completely shocked when Layla mentioned that she needed a break, Marsha admitted that Blake’s announcement that he needed to find himself wasn’t all that surprising once she allowed herself to think about it. He’d been restless his whole life.

  Andre was an excellent listener, which Marsha took great comfort in. He commented when appropriate, and rubbed her hand when there was nothing to be said or when she was trying to piece together what to say. He shared with Marsha how certain he was in his relationship with Layla, and what should have been obvious warning signs. He was still in love with her, with who she used to be, but from the beginning there were things he should have noticed and felt cautioned by. He’d only assumed that what he felt for her, how sure he was that they were each other’s last love, was mutual.

  “Was there evidence of an affair, at all? If you don’t mind me asking…” Marsha said.

  “I’m sure there was,” Andre answered, tracing the edge of a plate with his fork. “She’s easily distracted.” There was pain in his face, turning his mouth down at the corners. It broke Marsha’s heart. Who could become bored with this man? Even if you were bored, who would dare act on it and risk causing this expression on such a kind face?

  “She could’ve gotten a puppy or something,” Marsha joked. It worked, Andre’s face lightened and he chuckled, adjusting himself where he sat.

  Andre leaned forward in his seat and rested his cheeks in his palms, giggling.

  “I did actually offer to get her a puppy!” He leaned back in his chair and rested one hand on his belly while he laughed, rocking ever so slightly on the back two legs of his chair.

  “What!”

  “Oh yeah, once I noticed that she was getting restless, I kind of got afraid,” Andre stopped to rub the back of his neck with a nervous hand. “I was afraid that she was suddenly wanting children or something. So I suggested we maybe get a dog or something. You know, to share our adventures….” He rocked back in his chair again, and this time it fell to the floor, taking him with it.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?!” Marsha jumped up from her seat and circled the table to help him.

  “I’m good!” Andre jumped up and brushed off his pants. “I’m good.”

  Marsha took her seat immediately and propped her own chin up on her hands like she was listening to a great storyteller. “Well? What did she say?”

  “Ha! Give me time to recover, woman!” Two seconds of adjusting his perfect trousers and he leaned forward in his seat again, intent in his tale. “She said…” he bounced his eyebrows up and down twice for effect. “She said ‘Are you fucking crazy…’ And then she left.” Marsha’s mouth fell open, and Andre shrugged his shoulders. “Yep! Apparently she did NOT want a puppy.”

  “That’s a good guess, yes. But still,” Marsha replaced her napkin in her lap. “She should’ve tried a puppy first.”

  “True, true. Though I don’t think any one thing could satisfy her for long. It was kind of known in our larger circle that she had been with a few of the gentlemen. Or…men, I should say. And I didn’t find out until later that the number of our colleagues she’d actually spent time with was larger than I originally thought.”

  “Oh Andre, I’m—”

  “Don’t say sorry. It’s fine. I just shouldn’t have been so headstrong and sure of myself. I wouldn’t have looked at a business decision that way, I would have weighed all the possibilities and reduced the risk. Right? Isn’t that what you would do—now?”

  “Now? Yes. I’d make the next guy sign a ten page contract and review it every quarter just to make sure.”

  Marsha winked at him. It certainly was what she’d do now. If she and Blake were to ever reunite, she would be more careful about her own expectations. And if they didn’t, she would certainly be more selective if there were ever another chance at love. She learned that much in less than a week in Mexico. There were people in the world that were kind, beautiful, and steadfast.

  Well, as steadfast as you can be.

  “Once I paid for the surgery, I kind of realized what I’d gotten myself into.”

  A worried look washed over Marsha’s face, she wasn’t sure which question to ask or avoid.

  “Buyer’s remorse, as they say in the real estate business, I believe. Was it a….necessary surgery?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. Cosmetic. I paid for her to have her nose redone when we very first started dating. And after that, I sent her to have her chest done, even though I thought they were fine the way they were.”

  “Oh.” Marsha pushed the rest of her appetizer around on her plate, wondering how to comment on someone else’s boob job. She came up with nothing, and was thankful when the waiter interrupted them with their food. He set the steaming tuna down in front of her, but it didn’t look as appetizing as she thought it would. Her belly turned as her phone buzzed in her lap. It was probably Blake.

  “She had plenty of money to do it herself, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  He leaned over his meal, tilting slightly to the left in his chair, trying to get her attention with a sharp glare that she could only assume was his response to a strange look on her face.

  “Oh no, no. I wasn’t, actually. It’s just…”

  “What is it, love?”

  He reached across his plate, steam rising from it, and reached for her hand. She shook her head and picked up the phone from her lap where he could see it. An apologetic grin peppering one corner of her mouth.

  Marsha shrugged, not knowing whether to look and see who
it was or to leave it alone and pay attention to the conversation at hand.

  “Ahhh.” Andre leaned back in his seat and looked as sweet as she’d seen him in the week she’d known him. “You’d best see who it was.”

  Marsha swallowed hard and opened her phone. It was Blake. His text message only said to call him.

  “It says he wants me to call him. But I don’t know.”

  “You said you were going to last time, and that’s what you should do. It’s why we’re here in the first place….although to be fair; I was going to invite you to dinner here tonight anyway.” Andre gestured toward her with his open palm, and signaled for the waiter. “I’ll have him keep our plates warm.”

  Marsha was already texting Blake and waved her hand to Andre without looking, letting him know that she would only be a moment and he didn’t need to have their plates taken.

  “I think he has another woman in Nepal or something,” she told him while typing the last of her message. She’d asked Blake when a good time to call him back would be and he immediately responded with I can talk, but I can only talk now.

  A sad sigh escaped her lips, and she looked up, aware that when this type of sigh found its way out, there was usually no one there to hear it. Andre did hear it, and his expression was understanding. He nodded to her with his eyes closed; reassuring her that whatever needed to be discussed should be discussed, no matter how painful. “I’m pretty sure it would wreck me if he did.”

  “Even considering what we’re doing now?” Andre asked.

 

‹ Prev