Chapter 7 #2
To have Jasper join this wonderful night was a dream come true.
We talked about his music camp for a while, and then he said something about considering a Texas school for college so he could be near a teacher he was studying with.
I shut down for a moment. I was not ready for thoughts of an empty nest. In fact, I’m not sure I’d ever be.
I would be perfectly fine if Jasper wanted to spend the rest of his life living with us. What? Do you think that’s weird?
Collecting myself, I asked him exactly what he’d learned, and Jasper told us about his latest discoveries with harmonic minor and then turned my brain to mush with some deep time-signature talk. Though I was a music major, he’d already far surpassed my understanding.
Rory was simply beyond clueless about all of it, as he didn’t have a musical bone in his body.
Though he enjoyed listening, he couldn’t carry a tune or hold a beat if his life depended on it.
In fact, I’m surprised Rory’s lack of musicality hadn’t canceled out the musical genes I’d passed on to Jasper.
Somehow, our son had been born a musical genius.
I could hardly wait to see where his talent would lead him and where his career path would go.
I believed, as all his teachers had assured us, that he would be remembered for his musical contributions long after he was gone.
He had that caliber of ability, talent, and drive.
We eventually said goodbye to our son and closed the laptop, and Rory and I did the dishes. I suppose our libidos had cooled off enough to make us behave like old people again, needing to tend to the dishes, clean the counter, and feed the dog.
There was still beauty in the night though.
Usually I did the dishes alone, so that Rory could plug back into work and prepare for the next day. Tonight, we were a team. Halfway through, my handsome man took my hand, and we danced to the Hall & Oates he’d put on a few minutes earlier.
I giggled as he spun me round. He whispered into my ear that he loved me.
He pushed me away and looked into my eyes and pulled me in for a kiss.
Not a twenty-years-of-marriage kiss. I’m talking about the real thing.
A kiss filled with desire. Not unlike our first ones in New York. I even felt his tongue touch my teeth.
Consider my libido back in action. Put me in coach! I’m ready to play!
My knees nearly buckled as I thought of how warming it was to have him back.
And it felt like this wasn’t a tease. We’d cracked the core of our issues. Tomorrow would be the same. We’d gotten over the hump. Margot and Rory Simpson, the sequel!
As he touched my more sensitive areas this time, I noticed a momentary hesitation inside me, a lingering hurt from the rejection the night before. Not wanting him to turn me down again, I let him lead.
Rory touched my stomach, my flat stomach, the flattest it had been since college. “My God,” he moaned. “Is this really happening?”
He was “seeing” me, and it was all I could do to restrain myself.
His hands moved up to my smaller but more perfecter breasts. Yes, that’s a word. Who are you, the Word Police? Perfecter, perfecter, perfecter!
A wave of lightheadedness ran over me at his touch. My knight thrust his tongue into my mouth as he moaned more cravings. I hadn’t felt so wanted in many years.
He grew harder as he pressed against me, and for the second time that year—the second time in twenty-four hours—I reached between his legs. The Supreme Leader (yeah, I’ll give him that tonight) swelled even more in my hand.
A gasped escaped me, and I needed him inside me so badly.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” I whispered.
“You and me both,” he admitted. “Where have I been? God, where have I been?”
His words fed my own craving, and I bit his earlobe and pressed my body against him, pulling him closer and closer, our hips locking as if they might never separate again.
Finally getting his prize, Rory moved the straps of my dress off my shoulders, and I shimmied out. He unhooked my bra and kissed my nipples and ran his hands up and down my body, as if he were exploring me for the first time.
“Leave your shoes on, okay?” he asked.
“Okay,” I muttered. His deepest fetish was making love to me while I wore sexy shoes.
I nodded as I unbuttoned and stripped off his shirt.
I lowered my hands and quickly undid his pants, each moment growing in energy and anticipation.
I pulled down his boxer briefs and dropped to my knees.
He moaned louder as I took him in my hands and mouth, wanting him more than I ever had.
He soon lifted me up onto the counter, and we clumsily attempted to make love. We couldn’t quite make it work. That was okay, though. We both laughed at the folly as he led me onto the couch in the next room.
Rory and I made the finest love I could ever have imagined. As we danced together sexually, I bathed in the joy of having him back. No longer would I need to fear going at this world alone. Everything would be all right.
It wasn’t until later, while we cuddled together, that he asked, “Did you intentionally mismatch my socks? I went to work with one black and one navy today. Didn’t even realize it until Nadine mentioned it.”
I smiled. Busted. I almost denied it, but that would be no way to start our reunion. “Guilty as charged.”
“You’re going after me right now, aren’t you? Am I driving you crazy or what?”
“I’ve…I’ve been frustrated, my love. That’s all.”
“I can tell. Mismatched socks. Letting Phil up on the bed. Deleting my games. God knows what else.” He stroked my hair. “I love you. Today as much as ever. You have to know that.”
“I know you do,” I said. “I need you to show it more. You can tell me all day, and it doesn’t make a difference. I know you have your aspirations, and I fully support you, but we still need to have a marriage.”
He gently moved his fingers along my forehead and kissed my cheek. “You’re right, baby. You’re right.”
“By the way, why was Nadine looking at your ankles?”
He froze. “Oh, c’mon.”
“I’m just kidding.”
After completing our unfinished chores in the kitchen, we met in bed. Philippe had curled up by my slippers. Rory grabbed the remote and pointed it at the TV. I reached for my book. All of us couples have our routines, don’t we?
But Rory didn’t actually turn on the television, which funnily enough turned me on instead. “Let’s read out loud to each other,” he suggested. “You choose the book. We always say we’re going to do it but never do. Enough talk.”
I looked with eager, yet skeptical, eyes. “Rory Simpson, who are you?”
My delightful husband shrugged his shoulders. “A man in love.”
Yeah. And a man who was about to get whatever he wanted for the rest of his life.
We spent the next twenty minutes reading Nora Roberts to each other.
I loved hearing his voice, but I had to work hard to follow the story.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how much effort I’d put into saving us.
He’d been daydreaming his life away and forgotten I was there.
As opposed to me turning into the ultimate nagging bitch this past year, the wife who complains that her husband doesn’t “see” her, I’d taken the counterintuitive approach. And it had worked.
Rather than kicking and screaming and going on the offensive, I’d done what Jesus might have done.
If he steals my coat, I give him my shirt.
I’d covered Rory with love, and that love had brought him back to the light.
Sure, we’d have setbacks. I wasn’t an idiot caught in illusions.
I wasn’t alone in my daydream. But we would be okay.
We’d taken the first giant leap and had rediscovered the magic, and I was pretty proud of myself for making it happen.
I couldn’t let the night go without taking advantage of his mood. I said to him, “Honey, I know this drives you crazy, and I know it makes little sense to you, but I need to ask something of you. It would mean so much to me.” He stifled a yawn and encouraged me to go on.
With only a moment’s hesitation, I let it out.
“Before you say no, please hear me out. I guess you always do that…but really hear me out with an open mind. Honestly, consider my proposal. Yes, you agreed to let me adopt Philippe, and that was awesome. I’m so happy to have him.
He makes me extremely happy. But understand, my whole life has been about animals.
I’m a vegetarian because I love animals.
What is so wrong with having animals around our house?
It’s not like I’m asking to have a horse.
I understand that starting a bed-and-breakfast is too much right now.
Maybe it can eventually work out, though.
For now, all I’m asking for are three or four chickens.
I will build the coop myself if you’re worried about money. ”
He turned onto his side, and with the kindest, warmest eyes I’ve ever seen, he said, “How about we build the coop together?”
And we lived happily ever after.
The end.
Or so I hoped.