by Anthology
“I suppose not, but I’m just so mad at him. I remember telling Evan on your wedding day that if he ever hurt you he’d have me to deal with. So I let him know in no uncertain terms what I thought of him flaunting his floozie.”
“I think you mean, fiancé,” I correct her.
“Whatever. He had no business bringing her. Talk about kick in the teeth. And little Miss Six-Carat-Rock-On-My-Finger was just lapping up all the attention.”
I can’t help the small grin that tickles at the corners of my mouth at Leah’s unflattering imitation; simpering and fluttering her lashes.
“Well your Christmas card list’s going to be way shorter this year. You can cross off all your so-called friends and neighbours. Talk about fawning. They were falling over themselves. It was disgusting. I mean, the ink’s barely dry on the divorce papers.”
They say it’s when the shit hits the fan that you find out who your real friends are. Guess I just found out.
“I bet you’re not feeling so bad about snagging the lake house too now are you?”
I’d just wanted to get it over and done with, but the shit-hot (Leah’s description) divorce lawyer she put me onto held out for all sorts of things, including our summer house.
“You know what? Fuck ‘em I say, and Evan. You need to show them you’re over it and get your ass back out there. Get back in the game.”
I sigh, fiddling with the stem of my wine glass. “It’s been so long since I was ‘in the game’ I’ve forgotten how to play.”
“Oh, it’s like riding the proverbial. Just put on something sexy, slap on your game face,” She twirls her index finger at me. “Because this whole ‘au naturel’ look you got going on isn’t doing you any favors, and get some action woman.”
“Some action?” I laugh. “And where exactly am I going to find this ‘action’?”
Leah shrugs. “Bars.”
“Oh no. I am not going to singles bars. They’re full of men just looking to hook up − and with girls Kelsey’s age. Being dumped by my husband is enough of a knock to my ego thanks very much.”
“Okay, there’s always online dating or−”
‘Online dating? Jesus, I really have hit rock bottom.”
“Well a new guy’s not going to just fall into your lap.”
“Who says I want a new guy anyway? I’m not ready for another relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?” Leah smirks. “When was the last time you had sex? With someone other than yourself.”
I stare at an indeterminate point over her shoulder.
“C’mon, don’t be shy, we’re both grown women. You have needs, same as we all do.”
I shift my gaze back to Leah. “No, it’s not that. I’m just thinking.” I ponder on just how long it’s been. “Evan left just before Valentine’s and it had been a while, so... About ten months.”
Leah chokes on her wine. “Holy shit! You haven’t had sex since Christmas?!”
I shush her. “Say that a bit louder why don’t you? I don’t think people pulling up in the parking lot quite heard you.”
“Sorry, but sweetie, seriously, you have got to get laid.”
“Well we’ve discounted bars and online dating so what’s left? Craigslist?”
Leah studies me thoughtfully over the rim of her glass. Setting it down, she rummages in her bag for something. “Uh huh. There’s somewhere that offers all you need − and then some,” she says.
Resting her elbow on the table, she holds a black business card between her index and middle fingers. “It’s pricey, but so worth it and−”
“What, I’m paying for it now?”
“Oh don’t sound so shocked. Plenty of women pay for sex these days. There’s no stigma to it. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.”
“And how would you know?” As if I need to ask.
“I may have availed myself of their services a couple of times. She winks, grinning dirtily. “Best birthday present I’ve ever given myself.”
Why am I not surprised?
“It’s out of town so you don’t have to worry about bumping into anyone you know. A discrete boutique hotel that caters for women who are looking for...” She searches for just the right word. “Fun.”
I know better than to argue with my oldest, dearest friend when she’s got the bit between her teeth about something and take the card. “I’ll think about it.”
Leah heaves a heavy sigh. “Don’t think about it Katherine. Do it.”
***
Snow has come early this year; a good twelve inches already blanketing the ground a week before Christmas. I stand shivering on the porch, hugging myself as I watch the Aston Martin approach; its engine purring as it comes to a halt.
Evan chances a glance in my direction as Paige gets out of the side furthest from me. He looks saddened for a moment then flinches at the slam as Paige closes the trunk with way more force than necessary. He hangs his head for a heartbeat then puts the car into gear and drives away.
Paige’s breath clouds in front of her face as she lugs her bulging suitcase up the path. From her expression I’d say the drive from the airport and stop-off for coffee hasn’t gone well. But seeing as that is the only time she’s deigned to spend with her father over the holidays, the chances of it being anything other than fraught were always going to be slim.
Paige drops her case on the porch and I find myself enveloped in her tight embrace.
Extricating myself from Paige’s clutches I take her bag and lead the way into the house. “How was the flight?”
“Okay. About what you’d expect, full of kids going home for the holidays.” She’s fiddles with her hair, a sure sign she’s on edge.
“Do you want to unpack now or later?”
“Later,” she says, stripping out of her coat and scarf and hanging them on one of the hooks on the hallway wall.
“How about some hot chocolate to warm you up?”
“With marshmallows?”
Oh she hasn’t wanted that since she was a child. Yes, something is most definitely up.
“I gather it didn’t go well with your father. Want to talk about it?” I place the steaming mug in front of Paige and sit opposite her with my own mug of chocolate − sans marshmallows.
Paige stares at her drink. “Thanks.”
I wait patiently, watching as she steels herself to say what’s on her mind.
“Kelsey’s pregnant,” she tells the contents of her mug.
And my bastard of an ex-husband has left it up to our daughter to tell me. Of all the unforgiveable things he’s done this is inexcusable.
“Conniving little bitch,” she spits, lifting the mug to her lips and blowing over her chocolate.
“Paige! I know there’s no love lost between you and her, but−”
Paige slams down her mug. “But nothing mom, she is!”
Kelsey may well be, but Paige had always been a bit of a daddy’s girl before all this and I don’t want her siding with me if it means she loses out on a relationship with her father.
“This whole thing is disgusting. Dad should be ashamed. She’s my age! And she may look like butter wouldn’t melt, but I see through her act,” Paige continues, her tone vehement. “She’s a cunning little bitch who’s tricked him into this. Dad may have been stupid enough to be led by his dick, but I don’t see him wanting to do the whole father thing again.”
Neither do I.
Evan had been a good father while the kids were small, making it home in time to tuck them in and read them a bedtime story. Taking them off my hands at weekends to give me a few hours to myself to soak in the tub or read or whatever I needed to do to recharge. But by the time they were in high school he was hardly ever around; always working. Or so I thought. Now I wonder if all those late nights really were spent at the office.
Then I dismiss the idea that his betrayal started before Kelsey. True, we’d been heading that way for some time. The end of our marriage didn’t happen ov
ernight. Passion and affection drowning under the everyday pressures of life; the erosion was slow; like water dripping on stone. There was a gradual distancing; Evan reaching for me late at night less often. Fundamentally, he’s a good man, an honest man who takes his commitments seriously. Kelsey was just the catalyst; right person, right time. Like a shark smelling blood in the water, she’d sensed the weakness in him.
I’m not even sure Evan meant it to go so far. Looking back, I still can’t pinpoint exactly when he was first unfaithful, sexually that is. His emotional disassociation had been creeping up for months, but we still had sex, now and then. He hadn’t cut me off completely.
Even after the divorce I couldn’t help but cling to the hope that Kelsey was just the result of his stereotypical mid-life crisis. A fling; something Evan needed to get out of his system. But now... Whatever she was meant to be, he’s stuck with her. She’s made sure of it.
One good thing to come out of the breakup of my marriage is a renewed closeness with Paige.
I remember the silence on the other end of the line when I told her, her father had left me. I had just been beginning to wonder if I’d lost the connection with her cell when she finally spoke.
“Oh mommy. Are you okay?”
She hadn’t called me that since she was twelve.
I’d had to press my lips firmly together to keep the sob of relief that bubbled up in my throat from escaping. After Zachary’s summary dismissal I couldn’t have borne the rejection of my second child.
In the months since then we call each other once a week. Paige asks me how I’m doing, genuinely needing the reassurance that I’m holding up. She tells me about her studies, her work on the college paper, and boys. I have my daughter back. That’s the one blessing to come out of this sorry mess.
***
“So are we getting the tree today?” Paige asks over breakfast the next morning.
“I hadn’t thought of getting a tree.”
I haven’t seen the look Paige is giving me since she was little. “Oh but we always have a tree. Ever since I can remember.”
“Then we’ll get a tree. Finish your breakfast and we’ll head into town. How’s that?”
Paige visibly relaxes as she breathes out a small sigh. “Great.”
“Ooh I love being home at Christmas. It’s so... festive.”
I smile at her over the roof of the car as I close the driver’s door.
“Remember how you’d bring us to see Santa at Maloney’s store every year?” Paige asks; her grin huge.
Of my two children, she loved Christmas the longest, clinging to her belief until she hit double digits. That last time we visited Santa’s grotto, Zachary had been twelve and long since stopped believing. He’d teased Paige relentlessly and I’d had to take him aside and bribe him into swearing not to tell her. He could be a mean little boy at times; his cupidity showing even then.
If there’s one thing our town does well, it’s Christmas. The stores vying for first prize in the window display competition. Snowflake shaped decorations are strung across Main Street, lights in the bare branches of the trees surrounding the town square and an enormous Christmas tree in its center.
The air is redolent with the smells of the season: cinnamon and the sugary warmth of melted chocolate mixing with the sweet smoke that curls into the air from braziers.
“Oooh, roasted chestnuts.” Paige’s eyes grow round.
“Want some?” I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiastic nodding.
The nuts sizzle in the large pan, their shells splitting exposing fluffy cream centers. The seller pours a scoopful into a small brown paper bag and hands it to Paige as I count out the money.
There’s a bewildering choice at the tree lot. I’d happily not bother this year, but Paige is so excited and I’m grateful for her being here, wanting to be here, so I can’t deny her.
“How about this one?” she asks, pointing out a huge Norwegian Spruce that would fit perfectly in the entrance hallway where we always have our tree.
“I think we should find one a bit smaller. We’d never carry that back to the car, never mind how would we get it into the house.”
“I can have someone deliver it,” a male voice informs me.
I turn and look at the man who has spoken. Look up to be precise. He’s tall.
“For you?” He stares deep into my eyes. “No charge. And after the holidays I’ll have someone come by and take it away.”
“That’s very kind. Thank you.”
“Is that all you want? We do holly wreaths for your door. And Mistletoe.” There’s something about the way he says mistletoe, dragging the word out that has my gaze focusing on his mouth and my mind wandering; wondering how his kiss would feel. Would it be soft and lingering or rough and bruising?
“I don’t think so. Just the tree,” I mumble, feeling the flush rise in my cheeks.
Pulling off my gloves, I fumble in my purse for cash and lay the bills in his open palm. He closes his hand around mine, trapping my fingers as he brushes his thumb across my knuckles. Heat radiates from his touch, licking up my arm, spreading through my body right down to my frozen toes.
His gaze holds mine for a moment longer than necessary and in that moment I’m lost.
He releases my hand and I start to turn to leave when he speaks. “Haven’t you forgotten something?” The corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. “Your address?”
“Forty-five thirty-seven Cherry Drive,” Paige tells him before I have a chance to speak.
“He was interested,” she whispers as we walk away.
Devoid of makeup, bundled up in faded jeans and an old sweater that’s seen better days under my winter coat, my hair frizzing from the flurry of snow that’s falling, I highly doubt it. He’s probably like that with all the unattached women out to buy a tree. It’s just his sales technique.
“Don’t be silly.”
“He was, but you didn’t even notice him,” Paige tsks.
I stare distractedly across the square.
No, I didn’t notice how his eyes were the color of Peridot; my birth stone. That he hadn’t shaved for around three days by my guess. Nor did I notice that the body beneath his jacket was strong and muscular, or that his hands were large. And as he turned to tag the tree as sold, I especially didn’t notice how his jeans sculpted his fine ass.
That night I’m restless, unable to get comfortable no matter what position I lay in or how much I plump the pillows.
Leah had been aghast by my admission that I don’t own a vibrator, but what need did I have for one? I had a husband. And even when he crawled into our bed late at night and was snoring within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, what was I supposed to do? Pleasure myself with my battery operated boyfriend while my husband slept by my side?
That’s not to say I don’t know the virtue of a forceful water flow and that the showerhead can be a woman’s best friend at times. But the truth is; I don’t masturbate. Well, not often. And on the rare occasions I have, the momentary release always gives way to emptiness. Only leading me to feel Evan’s rejection more keenly, and make me wonder if any man will ever find me desirable again.
A list of chores and a couple of glasses of wine before bed enables my denial of what I truly need.
But tonight...
Maybe it’s because of where I am in my cycle. Maybe it’s because it’s a full moon, or a new moon, who knows, but my cunt aches with a need that cannot be denied or ignored. And I know sleep will elude me if I don’t come.
Slipping off my pyjama bottoms under the covers, I luxuriate in the cool feel of the soft cotton sheet against my skin. I slide my hand down over my abdomen and between my thighs. My flesh is slick and hot. A bolt of pleasure fires through me as I brush the pad of my wetted middle finger over my clit. I gasp; tilting my hips as I spread my legs further apart, resting the soles of my feet on the mattress. This isn’t going to take long.
My mind strays, and I look up behind cl
osed lids at a pair of green eyes that focus intently on mine. Running my hands down the planes of his chest I sweep them around his waist and grab his ass. I moan lightly, clenching around his cock as he pushes in.
A barrage of scents invades my senses as he takes my mouth in a fervent kiss: a blend of wood smoke and spices and pine needles.
And I come with a stifled cry of release; tears of frustration rolling down the sides of my face, soaking the pillow.
***
With no one to get dressed for, Paige and I stay in our PJs the whole of Christmas day. We swap gifts, pig out on our favorite foods until we feel we might burst, and laugh ourselves silly binge watching The Big Bang Theory on DVD.
Evan always hated the show.
Paige loves it because she’s a scientist; or she will be when she finishes her PHd in Bio Chemistry. How Evan and I produced a child with such scientific smarts is beyond me. When she talks about her studies she may as well be speaking a foreign language for all I understand. But I couldn’t be more proud of her.
The next day, I drop Paige off at the airport. It was wonderful having her home for the holidays, but the time has passed far too quickly.
Before I know it, the end of the year is upon me. I decline Leah’s offer of seeing in the New Year at a friend-of-a-friend’s party, choosing instead a long soak in the tub and in bed by eleven.
Checking my cell the next morning I discover I have messages from my daughter and best friend.
Paige:
Happy new year mom.
Love U xxx
Leah:
Happy new year.
Make it count sweetie and have some FUN! x
Leah’s right, I have to move on with my life. Get myself out of this rut I’ve slipped into since Evan left.
I do need some fun. And thanks to Leah I know exactly where to get it.
Unzipping the side pouch of my purse I take out the black business card and dial the number.
Chapter 2
My mouth is dry and I run my hands nervously over my hips, smoothing down my dress as I enter the hotel’s small bar. A couple of women sit separately at tables. Making my way to the bar I take a seat.
