Goddess (18 page)

Never,
came his reply.

~*~

Our own dinner was a WASPish affair. The kids ate in the living room where, between bites of turkey (or faux turkey in Anna’s case), they could play the Xbox Erik had brought. The adults crowded around the cramped dining room table. My mother had brought out her best dishes, the ones I could barely remember from childhood because they appeared so infrequently. The conversation centered on food, children, and Matt and Geoff’s work. Geoff, I had to admit, was the funniest accountant I’d ever met. He had the whole table laughing as he shared stories of financially clueless clients. Carol, a rather dowdyish, overweight woman who desperately needed a makeover, appeared to be the perfect, traditional wife, smiling at anecdotes she’d probably heard a thousand times, encouraging Geoff to have a second helping of stuffing or pumpkin pie, and rarely talking about herself or her interests. But this Thanksgiving, as I watched her scoop cranberry sauce onto Geoff’s plate, I looked at her differently. Who knew what kind of life she really led? Outward appearances could be deceiving, as I well knew.

My in-laws were the most interesting couple at the table. After raising two traditional sons, Nadine had taken a sudden left turn into New Age spirituality, dragging her husband Frank along. Now they both practiced yoga, attended spiritual retreats, and had even camped out at the Burning Man festival. Except for my mother, we were all amused by their talk of energy pathways and past lives.

After dinner, while Matt, Geoff, and Frank organized a game of touch football on my mother’s scruffy lawn, the women cleaned up. My mother frowned at me when I excused myself as soon as we cleared the table. I knew this might be my last chance tonight to sneak upstairs and get an update on another Thanksgiving celebration.

I’m in the living room
, Ashland responded to my email.
I just broke up some sordid entertainment.

What?!?!
I shot back.

My students found a radio station that, quite disturbingly, was playing Christmas carols. Elena decided to do a striptease to “Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.”

My palpitating heart made it difficult for me to write back.
How far did she get
???

Not very far,
came the reply,
though you would think one of my students would have stopped her.

Did you know in Magoa, the penalty for male infidelity is castration?
I wrote.

I’ll be sure to include that it my paper.

My two fingers typed out a quick response.
That’s not what you’re supposed to say.

My cock, attached or detached, is only for you
.

~*~

That night, I collapsed into bed, exhausted by tryptophan, family togetherness, and countering my mother’s subtle criticisms of my children and me.

Matt slipped into the room, already dressed in his pajamas, and turned on the light. “Sorry,” he said, flicking the switch off again. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“It’s all right. I’ve just had enough of family for one holiday.”

“And it’s only Thursday.” Matt lay down on the bed beside me. We both stared up at the cracked plaster ceiling. “Maybe next time we should stay at a hotel.”

“The hotel in town is only fit for truckers and escaped convicts.”

Matt rolled over to face me. “It hasn’t been all bad.”

“Are you referring to my gingered cranberries?”

“I overheard you talking to my parents. You sounded excited, telling them about your new job.”

“They offered to arrange a past life regression to see what I was doing in the 16
th
Century.”

Matt smiled and took my hand. It felt a little odd. I realized there hadn’t been much physical affection between us since…

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I haven’t been very supportive. I’ve gotten used to our life, and it’s been hard for me to change, but I can see how happy this job makes you.”

I turned to him. By necessity, we were nose-to-nose. Matt hadn’t shaved that morning; the stubble on his face was a subtle shadow in the gloom. He was still a handsome man, even with the dark circles under his eyes from too much work and not enough sleep.

I squeezed his hand. “This could be an opportunity to make a change in your life too. Maybe you could figure out a way not to travel so much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I would probably have to change jobs, maybe take a pay cut.”

“We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Matt kissed me tenderly. I responded in kind. He moved his hand to the bare spot where my sweater met my jeans. His kisses became more ardent. “Matt,” I whispered.

“What?”

“This is just kind of awkward. Your parents are in the next room.”

“We can be quiet. They’re probably chanting their mantras now anyway.”

As we continued to kiss, I was buffeted by contradictory emotions. We hadn’t made love since I started my affair with Ashland. I knew it was inevitable that we would, but I had pushed the possibility out of my mind.

Matt reached further under my sweater, cupping a breast in his hand. I knew I had to make a decision quickly. But really, what could I do? I could probably get out of sex this time, but in the long run…

“You okay?” Matt asked.

“Just a little tired.”

I unbuttoned his flannel pajama top. He pulled my sweater over my head. I sat up and reached back to unclasp my bra and pull off my jeans while Matt stripped out of his pajamas. It was fine now, really. He was my husband, and we’d done this a thousand times.

Matt climbed back into bed. He kissed me, working his way down to my breasts, sucking on each nipple in turn. I could feel myself getting wet. Matt wasn’t the perceptive lover that Ashland was, but he was competent. After almost 20 years of lovemaking, he knew me well enough.

I reached down and massaged his cock. It was an unspoken signal that I was ready for him to enter me. He moved on top of me as I spread my legs. He pushed his cock into me. And then we were… what? I always thought of what Ashland and I did as fucking, while Matt and I made love. But was that differentiation still valid? Ashland knew me so well now, not just physically, but also emotionally and spiritually. How many hours had we lain in bed, sharing our secrets, some of which I had never shared with Matt? I cared a great deal for Ashland, that was obvious, but did I love him?

No, that was too complicated.

While Matt and I made love, I willed myself not to think of Ashland. Matt made sure I came that night too. I needed it, not physically, but to reassure myself that we still had that connection. Afterwards, I fell into a deep sleep. If I dreamed of either man, it was lost in the morning sun streaming through my dusty window.

~*~

The rest of the weekend was uneventful, except for one incident. Anna, Mackenzie, and I were creating handmade Christmas ornaments at the dining room table, Lily was on the living room sofa, draped across the flowered upholstery, reading a thick novel Chase had given her. My mother was across from her, reclined in my father’s old La-Z-Boy, flipping through the
Ladies’ Home Journal
. “You’re not going to get that sex vaccine are you?” she suddenly asked Lily.

“What?” Lily replied, confused and embarrassed.

“That HPV shot they give girls. It’s a scandal. It just gives them a reason to have more sex.”

I hurried into the living room. Lily turned to me with a pleading look on her face. “Mom,” I said, “you don’t know what you’re talking about and it’s none of your business.”

My mother held her magazine up to her face. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to deal with things like that when you were her age.”

Lily hopped off the sofa and stomped out of the room. I was tempted to give my mother a rundown of all the things I did with boys when I was Lily’s age. Instead, I found Lily in my bedroom, sitting on the bed reading her book. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I wish I could change the way she is, but I think it’s a lost cause.”

Lily looked at me over her book. “How could you stand living here?”

“It wasn’t easy.” I sat down beside her. “I just hope I’m doing a better job with you.”

“You’re the best mom I know.” She reached out and gave me a spontaneous hug.

It made the whole weekend worth it.

~*~

I immediately texted Ashland when we arrived home on Sunday.

How was your weekend?

My virtue is intact.

It better be. When can I see you?

I have to fly to Washington tomorrow. Meeting with the South Korean ambassador.

We made plans to get together as soon as he returned but circumstances didn’t cooperate. Matt didn’t travel much at this time of year, I was in charge of the PTA’s holiday clothes drive, Anna and Mackenzie needed rides to various activities, and Ashland was immersed in research for his paper. We apologized profusely every time one of us had to cancel a planned meeting but it did nothing to allay our sexual frustration.

~*~

The strange thing was, Ashland spending Thanksgiving with Elena didn’t bother me as much as knowing he would spend Christmas alone.

This wasn’t unusual for him. He confessed in an email that he had spent almost every Christmas in solitude since his wife died.
Don’t feel sorry for me
, he wrote a week before the big holiday. I read his message as I sat in the car outside of Mackenzie’s school, watching parents stream in while waiting for Matt to arrive so we could attend her holiday extravaganza.
I enjoy the seclusion. No Christmas carols, no eggnog, no unwanted presents. Nothing but me, a tumbler of good scotch, and my work.

Part of me envied the idea of a quiet Christmas. But I also loved our family’s traditions— the school Christmas pageant, cutting a tree at a Wisconsin farm, the annual party with our neighbors, and Christmas Eve service at the church we attended twice a year. It was probably better that Ashland and I couldn’t see one another at this time of year. I didn’t want to be reminded of the risk I was taking in having an affair and how much I had to lose if it went awry.

Christmas came and went in a whirl of wrapping paper and presents, a big dinner featuring a Christmas ham (faux ham for Anna), and yes, eggnog. Ashland was due to return home on December 31 but I knew it would be impossible to see him. For months, Matt and I had plans to attend a party hosted by one of Matt’s oldest friends. Then, before the girls returned to school, we were driving to Galena, Illinois for a weekend getaway.

I woke early the morning before the New Year was to begin. Huddled under the comforter, I felt insulated from the chill of our bedroom. The frost on the windows made the world look even more uninviting.

Matt slept soundly beside me. I thought about the enormous changes the past year had brought. Was it really only four months since that fateful evening when Nina approached me at the PTA meeting? I felt as if that night I had come to a fork in the road and had taken both paths. Part of me continued on as if nothing had happened, while the other half explored a world I had only dreamed of visiting.

I forced myself to climb out of bed. Downstairs, I started a pot of strong coffee. While I waited for it to brew, I picked up my phone. Had he returned from his sojourn?

Happy almost New Year,
I emailed.
I miss you.

I want you,
he wrote back.
Can you slip away?

I stared at the message, debating with myself. There was no way I would be able to escape later. There was too much to do. But perhaps...

Now?
I wrote.

Yes,
came the quick reply. But then, to my disappointment, he added.
Not my place. The campus beach?

Slipping quietly back upstairs, I put on sweats and gave CC a hasty walk. I grabbed my car keys and headed for the back door.

“Where are you going?” I turned to see Anna watching me with sleepy eyes.

I froze. Could she sense the apprehension and excitement pumping through my veins?

“I thought I’d pick up some scones for breakfast.”

“Are they open?”

“Sure,” I said. “I checked.”

She considered this. “Get blueberry for me.”

~*~

The sky hung ominously above the lake, heavy with the snow that the radio promised for later that day. The parking lot near the beach was a concrete desert, its horizontal plain broken only by streetlamps and a solitary car parked in a far corner. I pulled the Prius up next to Ashland’s Audi and climbed into the passengers seat. We didn’t waste time on words; our lips found one another across the console as our hands struggled to locate bare skin under heavy coats.

Ashland extracted one hand long enough to turn off the car engine. The air temperature in the car quickly dropped and, fueled by our make out session, ice began to form on the windows, giving us a little privacy.

“Why are we out here?” I managed to whisper between kisses.

“Arturo called just before I left. Their heat stopped working so I told them they could stay at my place. They’re still there.”