He slid his chair closer, “Tell me about it. I want to know everything.” His breathing was heavier. We were both aroused. I was treading on dangerous ground.
The words spilled out of my mouth, “It was a while ago.” In fact, it was not long after Mike had his second affair – but I decided to leave that out. “There was a faculty party. One of the other professors and I had always had this flirtatious relationship. He has a wicked sense of humor and there was always this sexual undercurrent in our conversations. I can’t explain it any other way.”
Alan nodded and I continued, “Well, we had too much to drink and the party was dull so we ended up in his car. I don’t know how it started, but we were kissing, touching.” Heat concentrated in my core as I remembered the night.
My head was spinning with alcohol and lust. I didn’t know if I was speaking or thinking, “He was so warm. I wanted him so desperately. His fingers slipped inside my blouse, beneath the camisole. He moaned when they touched my skin and it drove me crazy. I wanted to make love to him. It was amazing, the heat that came off of our bodies. Every movement was so sure and so desperate. He felt so good inside me and I came so hard.” Slowly I came out of the trance, realizing what I had just said. Out loud. To Alan.
“Oh God! I’m . . . I’m sorry!” I was flustered and embarrassed. How could I do this? Was I completely nuts?!
“I went too far . . . got carried away,” I continued to sputter out an explanation. My head was swimming; my thoughts were thick and heavy.
Alan took my hands in his, “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said over and over, “don’t be embarrassed, please,” he pleaded.
My body began to shiver. Alan moved beside me, wrapping me in his arms and whispering into my ear, “It’s alright, it’s alright.”
My heart was hammering, about to explode. For a moment I thought I was having a heart attack. Alan stroked my hair, my back, comforting me. After a few minutes, my breathing went back to normal and I pulled away.
“You’re still a very sexual woman, Laura.”
“Alan,” I licked my lips carefully, as if trying to seal them shut, “I have never told anyone about that. Not ever. I . . .”
He put his hand over his heart, “I will never tell a soul. I swear it.”
I hesitated. He seemed sincere. “I mean it. No one knows.”
“I mean it too. Trust me.”
And just like that, I decided to try. “Thank you.”
“Obviously, you needed to get that off your chest. Doesn’t that feel better?” He said softly.
I nodded, exhausted, “I guess you’re right. It does.”
Alan looked into my eyes for a moment, then rose and stretched, “I think we should get some sleep or we will never survive tomorrow.”
I nodded weakly and stood, lifting my chair, “I’ll be inside, beating myself senseless with Ben’s toy pirate sword.”
“And I’ll be taking a long, cold shower.” Alan grinned as he closed the door behind him.
I couldn’t help but smile. There was some small satisfaction in that.
Chapter 6
The next morning found us up and ready to go early. We had our routine down now. And to my amazement, I wasn’t upset when I saw Alan. All of the embarrassment had melted away in the night. He’d been right. I needed to talk about it. That adulterous liaison had haunted me for a year. But last night I slept as soundly as a woman who just told her ex-boyfriend that she cheated on her husband could.
We decided to save the shows for another day, concentrating on the parade and rides. I tried to participate but the conversation from the night before nagged at me. I was interested in adultery. I had chosen that subject for more than one reason and the knowledge of this seemed somewhat liberating. Especially when I discovered I wasn’t at all like the victims I wrote about. Well, at least not yet. There was still the chance I could throw myself on the tracks in front of the monorail.
Mike never knew what happened. He blissfully went about his work, completely oblivious. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him. It was certainly within my rights to shove it up his ass like he’d done to me three times before.
“Mommy! Look!” Jenny pointed at one of the princesses, who cheerfully waved at her. It must be easy being a princess. Young and beautiful, optimistic and wealthy. Prince Charming never worried about Snow White fooling around with Sleeping Beauty’s Prince Phillip. Maybe they were all swingers, swapping spouses when the parks closed. After all, they do shack up in that one castle.
“How about some lunch?” Alan addressed the munchkins.
Lunch? Was it lunch time already? All morning I’d just been thinking about adulterous sex and imposing it on innocent, make-believe characters.
“Which fictional character would you sleep with?” I found myself asking Alan while the kids guzzled pizza.
He didn’t appear surprised, just rubbed his hands together thoughtfully, “Maleficent, I think.”
“The evil witch from Sleeping Beauty? Why?”
“Well,” he placed his napkin on the table, “she’s attractive, and wicked. And with her magic who knows what skills she has in bed?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, “I pegged you as the deflowering the virgin type – you know, Sleeping Beauty or Snow White.”
“Jail bait,” he responded, “too young and they wouldn’t know anything about foreplay.”
I nodded, “True. I just thought you would prefer something young and ripe.”
Alan shook his head, “No. The sadder-but-wiser girl’s the girl for me,” he sang the refrain from The Music Man. How about you?”
I rubbed my chin, thinking, “I don’t know.” Since we were on that theme, scores of Disney movies filled my mind. “Probably Buzz Lightyear. He has a good motto.”
“To infinity, and beyond?” Alan offered with a smile, “And he has rockets strapped to his back. Interesting choice. A bit square though. Definitely a virgin.”
“I know. That’s why I also like Aladdin. He’s soooo naughty. He’d have a little experience under the sash.”
“You know what,” Alan leaned in, “he kind of looks like me, too.”
That caught me off guard. Aladdin did look like Alan. Even the name was similar. Well, that is, if you took out the ‘ddi,’ “Are you reading something into my choice?”
“Is there something to read into your choice?” He countered innocently.
Hmmm . . . cold shower last night, and he wanted to be my cartoon fantasy lover, or at least be compared to him. Was Alan coming onto me? Or was this just an amusing kind of word foreplay for him? That was something to think about.
My cell phone rang. Mike’s name appeared on the screen and with a sly grin at Alan, I answered it.
“Hey Laura, having fun?” Mike’s voice filled my ear.
“Yes, we’re having lunch right now.” I kept my tone light, but not inviting.
“Great. I had a minute so I thought I would check in. Oh, and I won’t be able to call tonight. Bob, Ray and I are going to work on our presentation until late, right guys?” In the background I heard the men agreeing.
For a split second, I wondered if it was really a Roberta and Raylene. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Ok. I’ll turn the phone off then to save the battery. Bye!”
“Bye.” He clicked off before I could respond. The Bastard.
“He can’t call tonight,” I explained with a sigh, “have you heard from Susan?”
Alan’s smile faded, “She called for two minutes between court appearances this morning. She didn’t even ask if we were having a good time.”
“Well,” I said slowly, unsure if I was stepping on a nerve, “she’ll find out when she sees the pictures. Especially the one of us as a family with the castle in the background.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the photo we’d had taken the first day. I carried the wallet around with me but kept the 5x7 at the hotel.
Alan and I stood in the back, our heads together with the kid
s mixed in front of us. Alice, the dark-haired beauty with two front teeth missing, had her arms around my fair-haired little Jenny. Blonde, blue-eyed Ben was holding green-eyed brunette Jack’s hand. I found myself staring at my image. I was the same height as Alan, but my hair was dirty blonde, short and curly. My light skin and blue eyes contrasted with Alan’s golden complexion and dark hair. We were all smiling as if we had just won the lottery.
“I like that picture,” Alan reached over and plucked it from my hands, studying it, “we all look pretty good together. Although why a woman as beautiful as you would hang out with someone like me is beyond my comprehension.”
“I’m in love with your kids, of course,” I teased.
He smiled, “Oh yes, that’s obviously it.”
The rest of the day was spent running from one attraction to another. Once again, the kids seemed to have limitless energy. I, for one, was starting to run down. As we watched the light show that night, Alan and I agreed that it would be an early bedtime. By the time we got back to the hotel, the kids were out cold. I didn’t even have the energy to undress Jenny and Ben so I put them under the covers fully clothed. Clearly I wasn’t up for Mom of the Day.
Once again, Alan and I sat out on the terrace with beer from the bar.
“You know, I think we need a break.” He said finally.
“From what?” This was, after all, a vacation.
He waved his arms around, “From this! From having to sit on a patio every night after chasing the kids around the parks all day.”
“You don’t like sitting here with me?”
“I love sitting here with you. I just would like to do something a little more normal with better lighting.”
I laughed, “What do you suggest?”
“Why don’t we call one of those sitters they have here?”
I choked on my beer. Why didn’t I think of that? “Let’s do it.”
Alan slipped into his room, emerging a few minutes later, “It’s all set. Tomorrow night at six, Martha arrives to save us.”
A nervous tingling began in my stomach, “So, what will we do?”
“Dinner, seeing the sights, all involving real food,” he smiled, triumphantly.
“You mean nothing cut up to look like a cartoon rat?”
He nodded, “and no one will give us a sticker for cleaning our plates. It will be wonderful.”
“Sounds great.”
We both nursed our beers for a while in silence. That would be fun. Grown up stuff. Just me and Alan, out on the town. My insides bunched up at the thought of it. What we were talking about was a date, right?
“Alan, about last night,” I began, not really knowing what to say next.
“We can pretend it never happened, if you like.” I could see from the look in his eyes that he would never talk about it again if I asked him to.
“It’s not that. I just wanted to thank you.”
His eyebrows arched, “Really?”
I nodded, “Yeah. I know it sounds weird, but I obviously needed that.”
Alan looked from me to his bottle, “Can I ask you something about that night?” I nodded again and he continued, “What happened after?”
I hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. No sense in ruining a good adultery story with too much information.
“Mike never knew, and Nick and I never discussed it again. We kind of agreed to keep it to ourselves - no deathbed confessions to our spouses and that was that.”
“And you were able to keep your hands off each other?”
My stomach twisted, but I ignored it. “Well, it wasn’t easy. We still had the knowing glances and suggestive conversations. But a few months ago, he moved to Maryland with his family so that’s the end of that.” I drained my bottle and reached for another one.
“Have you ever done anything else like it since?” Alan’s questioning seemed innocent, not condemning, so I answered.
“No.” Why was that? Well, besides the obvious lack of opportunity. The affair didn’t make me feel any better about what Mike had done to me.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. What I find more interesting, is how after that one fling, I started noticing men hitting on me more often. I don’t know if I just didn’t notice it before or if after the affair, I started giving off adultery pheromones or what.”
“Did you ever ask them why they were attracted to you?” I noticed he drained another bottle. We were starting our second six pack. We were well on our way to the happy land of alcoholism.
“Actually, I did. And they said, to a man, that it was obvious to them I liked sex. Now how would they know something like that?”
“Laura, it’s in every movement you make. You’ve always been like that.”
“You’re joking.” Was he joking?
Alan shook his head, “No, I’m not. Men are always sniffing around for someone like you. The fact that they come on to you proves it. You’re a sex kitten in need of a good stroke.”
“Shut Up!” I would have sprung out of my seat but I was dizzy and didn’t want to fall down.
Alan nodded, “It’s true. Some women give off the frigid vibe, some women are teases and you, my dear, are the rare one who could give a man the ride of his life.”
The news sunk into my thoughts. “Where do you guys come up with this stuff?”
“I don’t know, but it’s true.” Alan drank his beer. “You just have to trust me on this.”
“Jesus,” was all I said. If this was true, I was a veritable Pandora’s Box of sexuality. “Wait, doesn’t that make me come off a bit like a tramp?”
He shook his head, “No, it makes everyone envy your husband. Women like you are very rare.”
“Is Susan like me?” I regretted the words as soon as I said them. It wasn’t fair to bring up his wife.
“No,” he said slowly, “she’s great and all, but more inhibited.”
“I see.” I felt bad about asking. But didn’t he ask me all sorts of probing questions last night? I changed tactics. I didn’t want to compete with his wife. “How do you know you aren’t just building me up more than I deserve?”
“Because,” his voice dropped an octave, “I’ve had you, and I remember it. And I really did have to take a cold shower last night.”
That’s it. Right then and there, I knew that I wanted to sleep with him – even though I knew it was wrong. “You’re right. Maybe we do need a break.” I replied weakly.
Chapter 7
The dress hung in front of me, calling me every name in the book, “Harlot! Traitor!” But I wrestled the bitch off of the hanger and stepped into it. The dress really had no argument. So far on this trip, I had not lived up to either of those words, but maybe it could read my thoughts. Great. A mind-reading dress. Hester Prynne didn’t have that and she still got caught.
While it was true I had packed this dress for a romantic evening with Mike, I had no reason not to wear it. Alan and I were just giving ourselves a well-deserved break, that’s all. Besides, I didn’t have anything else appropriate to wear for a night out.
Studying myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but admit the dress was hot. A sleek Betsy Johnson, it had seductive spaghetti straps and a snug, black velvet bodice emblazoned with bright, embroidered flowers. The hemline had seven inches of fringe around the bottom and the sheer black matching wrap had the same. A pair of black, strappy sandals finished it off. I was definitely asking for it.
At seven o’clock he tapped at the door and I opened it. The four children pooled together in the doorway, then flooded into his room. Alan just stood there, smiling. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t savor every second. It would also be lying to say I didn’t blush.
“Wow,” he spoke softly, “you look fantastic!”
“So do you! You seem to have picked up a few style tips in New York.” Alan wore a French blue button-down shirt, open at the neck, tucked into a pair of chinos. A dark jacket was folded over his shoulder and . . . were thos
e Bruno Maglis?
“Come on! I didn’t dress that badly back then!” He protested.
“Listen, I conceded that your cheating on me wasn’t entirely your fault and that I never thought you were an ego maniac. But you were a lousy dresser and I’m not going to back down on that one.”
A sharp knock at the door broke our trance. The sitter was here. Martha was a sweet lady in her sixties. I liked her immediately.
“Right this way, please,” the aging hostess led us to a table in the back of Captain Steve’s. The window by the table overlooked the lagoon and the dancing colored lights that played upon its surface. Alan pulled out a chair for me and I could feel my body warming. I gave silent thanks for dimly lit restaurants. Within moments we had our menus and a bottle of wine.
A few butterflies flew through my stomach and I looked around surreptitiously. The thought that Mike and Susan had hired a Mike Hammer-esque private eye skipped through my mind. Nope. Not a fedora or trench coat in the room. Of course, there was no one there I knew and the atmosphere was such that conversations at the surrounding table merely sounded like unintelligible mumbles.
Alan poured the wine and raised his glass in a toast, melting me with his dazzling smile. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“To us.” The glasses clinked, “We have spent every moment on the kids and now, a night to do what we want.”
“You mean no riding every ride twenty times in a row?” Sarcasm? From me?
Alan laughed, “That’s right. And absolutely no pictures with seven-foot tall dogs or chipmunks.”
“I think I would strangle them with my bare hands if they came up to me right now.” I was surprised to discover that I actually meant it. Wait, maybe I could do that if we get busted to throw Mike Hammer off the scent.
“It isn’t easy handling two kids alone, and four is tough for both of us.” Alan sipped his wine, looking thoughtful, “I’m really glad you’re here, Laura. I don’t think I could have pulled this trip off without you.” Our eyes met and a shock passed through me, almost imperceptibly.
The Adulterer's Unofficial Guide to Family Vacations, A Novel Page 5
