Is This What I Want? Read online

  Settling for the broken controller, Jack pretended to be playing with his big brother, making his version of rumbling car noises. I looked over at the dining room table to see that all the Lego pieces were back in the bin, except one. As I moved closer, I could see that it was a Darth Vader head. I picked it up, looked at Sam, and decided to choose my battles, tossing it into the bin.

  Rick followed me as I headed back to the kids’ room to return the Legos to their home on a high shelf. I turned to face him and knew what was coming. It was the same every time.

  “So, how was your session? What’d you talk about?”

  I wanted to believe he sincerely cared and was interested in how I felt, what I was working on. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder if it was more a question of the return on our investment. He had his weekly appointments alone. I had my weekly appointments alone. We had our weekly appointments together. Quite an investment. With our insurance only paying sixty percent, and my pay cut and furlough days at the university because of the budget crisis, the measly amount I brought in didn’t help much. And after all, I had caused the whole mess, hadn’t I? So, I sure as hell better be working hard to fix it.

  I knew I should have taken a long breath and counted to three before speaking, as Carly had taught me, but I didn’t. I really, really should have.

  “I don’t know! I don’t know how it’s going. Sometimes it seems pointless. You wanna know what we’ve been doing for the last two sessions? Planning the exact words to tell you something that I’m afraid to tell you. I’m a coward. I teach communication but I can’t figure out how to talk to my husband of almost ten years without crafting every syllable with a therapist we pay with money we don’t have. It’s pathetic.”

  Now it was even more critical to take that deep breath and count to three. Again, I didn’t.

  “So here it is… I need to just get it out already…”

  I turned away from him and kept my eyes on the row of Mr. Moose books on the bright green bookshelf.

  “Okay, so I’m supposed to tell you that I don’t like the way you kiss. It’s too forceful. I know. It’s ridiculous. I cheated on you. You’re trying to forgive me. And now I have the nerve to come and talk to you about how I want you to kiss me differently. I should keep my mouth shut and feel grateful that you’re finally kissing me again, right? But instead my therapist tells me I need to tell you how much you suck at it! Well… I wasn’t supposed to say it like that. We had it all worked out. I was going to say it in a loving, non-threatening way with a bunch of bullshit about how we’ll both benefit from deeper intimacy and how important slow, gentle kissing is for women. But now I fucked up again, as always.”

  He just stood there with that confused look on his face, the same exact look as the last time I did this and the time before—the scrunched up eyebrows, head tilted slightly to the left side. Thanks to our joint sessions with Carly, he knew what was happening. She had even given him a chapter from a book on infidelity that detailed how common it was for the perpetrator to lash out at the victim. Anger at oneself directed outward, aimed at the very person you had already hurt, as if to confirm your belief that you are a terrible, terrible person.

  I finally sucked in deep breaths of air and started counting. The reality of the moment, of what I had done, despite all my promises to myself never to do it again, sunk in. I wanted to say “I’m sorry,” but I was tired of saying it, and more importantly, I knew he was tired of hearing it.

  I searched his face for a clue to which way it would go this time. Would he take the high road, as he had been able to do a few times before? Maybe take me in his arms and tell me it was all going to be okay? Tell me that he understood how much pain I was in and that he knew it was hard to find the right ways to express all my complicated emotions?

  Or had I gone too far this time? Was he plotting his counterattack? I started to think maybe that would be better. At least it would be more fair. I wanted things to be fair again. The scale felt so out of balance it sometimes seemed as if I was trying to tip it over completely to one side just to get it all over with.

  I noticed new gray hairs on the sides of his head, just above his ears. Were they my fault? Did I leach the color from those follicles? He smirked and shook his head slowly back and forth, staring into my eyes dead on.

  “Great. That’s great, Beth. So you don’t like the way I kiss? And this is how you tell me.”

  He opened his mouth to speak again and then stopped himself. He turned and walked out of the room, trying to get away from me, away from the conversation, the feelings. But I followed him. I couldn’t help myself. He went into our bedroom. It was dark except for the streetlight shining through the half-closed blinds. He was facing the window, his back to me.

  I stood there waiting. He finally turned to face me. Then he looked away, at our messy bed with the floral and forest green blanket, sheet, and pillows all twisted into a lumpy ball. I thought about how good wives must make their beds every day.

  He sighed and shook his head again. I braced myself.

  “If you don’t like the way I kiss, maybe you should arrange for Dave to give me a lesson.”

  CHAPTER 2:

  PREGNANT PAUSES

  “SERIOUSLY, YOU JUST BLURTED it out like that? After you and Carly spent all that time planning how to talk to him about it?”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Shelly. It was three days ago and I’ve barely been able to look him in the eye since.”

  I took a tiny sip of my Prosecco, wanting to make it last since I knew I’d only be having the one glass. Shelly squeezed a lemon wedge into her water and stirred mindlessly with her straw. The color in her face was returning, but she still looked tired and a tad greenish.

  I wanted to keep things relatively positive as I broached the next topic. “So, how have you been feeling? You seem better than the last time I saw you.”

  “Yeah, I’m doing a little better now. Thank God the first trimester’s almost over. The nausea was unbearable a couple of weeks ago.”

  I still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of Shelly being pregnant. I tried to feign excitement, but it was hard since she didn’t seem too happy about it herself. I had seen it many times, but hadn’t expected the accidental third child to happen to Shelly.

  “I still can’t believe you got pregnant right after Max had a vasectomy.”

  “I know. The doctor said if we had just waited a few more days… We should have been extra careful like you and Rick were when he had his.”

  She looked into her water glass and stirred slowly again, the ice making a clinking sound.

  “But I’m starting to feel happy about it. I’m getting used to the idea. And the girls are so excited about having a little brother.”

  “You don’t know for sure yet that it’s a boy, do you?”

  She shook her head, sighed, and said, “It has to be. You know how Max reacted. The only saving grace will be giving him a son, not a third daughter.”

  Our server, the one we liked to call Don Juan, arrived and I proudly ordered from the new light and healthy menu. Shelly asked for penne with butter and parmesan cheese. I remembered when that was all I could eat too. It occurred to me that the tables had turned since our dinner at the Italian bistro six months ago, when she had just lost weight and I was envious of the attention Don paid to her. She still looked great, with her straight blond hair and her delicate features. And her pregnancy wasn’t showing yet, but there was a weariness in her face and a heavy energy about her now. I wondered how I would feel if I got pregnant. I imagined it would destroy what Rick and I were working hard to rebuild and felt thankful that it wasn’t possible.

  Don looked into my eyes. “I love it when you gorgeous ladies come in. I look for you every night.”

  I smiled. “I bet you say that to all the women you serve.”

  He reacted with a dramatic facia
l expression, pretending to be deeply wounded by my comment. His dark, wavy hair looked more shiny than usual.

  “Miss Beth, you need to stop losing weight. You should order from the regular menu, this light and healthy one is for the birds.”

  “Thanks for noticing, Don, but I’m just fine the way I am and it’s thanks to menus like this one,” I handed it to him as I spoke, “that I can enjoy delicious meals out and stay in shape too.”

  I turned to Shelly and saw that her face had become a more pale shade of green. She excused herself and walked briskly to the restroom.

  Don’s eyes followed her until she was out of sight. “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. So what happened with that part you auditioned for? I’ve been curious ever since you told us about it the last time we were here.”

  His face turned serious and he nodded with his head hung low. I regretted asking.

  “Let me see your hand,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Please.”

  He held out his hand, palm up, and it was clear I was supposed to give him mine. I chose my right hand, the one without a wedding ring. He took it and lifted it toward his mouth very slowly, while looking into my eyes. I smiled nervously and tilted my head to question what he was about to do. He did it anyway. He put his soft lips to my hand and kissed it gently, leaving his mouth in place while looking deep into my eyes.

  He finally let go and I took my hand back, unsure of the meaning of this gesture, but feeling a flutter in my stomach.

  “So what did you think of that?” he asked.

  “Um, well, um.”

  “If we were about to go on a first date, let’s say, would you like it if that was how I greeted you?”

  I pressed my back into the chair, trying to regain my composure. “Of course. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Well, the casting director said it was too old-fashioned. Too cliché. It wasn’t in the script, but I thought it was a nice touch.”

  I nodded, still reeling from what he had stirred in me, but now understanding it was just to make a point, to answer my question in a way that would keep his dignity intact.

  “Sorry you didn’t get the part, Don.” After we found out he was a struggling actor, we confessed our little nickname for him. He loved it and it stuck. We had no clue what his real name was and didn’t want to know.

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “I think your hand kissing skills are spectacular and the scene would have been breathtaking on the big screen. I’ll see you there someday soon. I’m sure of it.”

  Shelly slid back into her spot and I shifted my attention to her. But I didn’t want to say anything about her condition until Don was gone.

  “I shouldn’t have left you two alone. Are you flirting again?”

  Don grinned and raised his eyebrows, brushing a strand of wavy dark hair off his forehead. “Yes, you caught me. But alas, to my dismay, this beautiful woman is already spoken for. So I must leave you and tend to my broken heart.”

  The three of us laughed as he walked away.

  I turned to Shelly to continue the conversation Don had interrupted, but as I opened my mouth, I saw judgment in her eyes and she started to speak before I could.

  “You know you’re still playing with fire, right?”

  “Oh my God, Shelly. We were just flirting. You don’t think I would make the same mistake twice after all I’ve been through, do you?”

  She didn’t want to answer. She did think I would do it again.

  I straightened my back and shifted in my seat.

  “Listen, Carly told me all about how much more likely I am to fall into the trap again because I already crossed that line once, but I can’t see it happening. I’ve been trying hard to work on things with Rick and I wouldn’t sabotage myself that way again.”

  Shelly sighed. “I know you feel that way now. I just worry about…”

  “I know, Shelly. I know that, because you saw your father repeatedly cheat on your mother, you see this a certain way. But remember, I had that same experience with my parents. I saw the damage it caused and I want to avoid that in my marriage just as much as you do.”

  I looked away. There was a long silence as I watched the couple across the restaurant gaze into each other’s eyes. He slowly lifted himself out of his chair and lowered one knee to the floor right in front of her. I turned back to Shelly and tapped her forearm, pointing in their direction with my head and eyes. She looked over. We weren’t alone. Diners at every table tried to discreetly peek at the momentous occasion. He pulled a small black velvet box from his pocket and placed it in her hand. The excitement on her face left no doubt as to what her answer would be, still we were all compelled to continue our voyeurism.

  She looked too young, too sweet and innocent to make this kind of lifelong decision. Part of me wanted to run to her and say, “Don’t do it! It’s so much harder than you think! The odds are against you, can’t you see that?” The other part of me was swept up in the romance of it all. After looking down and admiring the ring, which was too far away for me to see, she became aware of the extra eyes on her and appeared uneasy. In unison, we all turned back to our tablemates as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  I was taken aback when I saw Shelly wiping a tear from her eye. I handed her a tissue from the pack in my bag.

  “Those pregnancy hormones,” I said. “I remember sobbing over a Facebook post about two of my students breaking up.”

  She wiped her eyes and nose, and looked at me as if she was afraid to tell me something.

  “It’s not just the hormones, is it? What’s going on? You know you can tell me.”

  Her lip quivered. A tear slid all the way down to her chin before she could sop it up with the tissue. The apprehension surfaced in the form of a faint numbness in my knees.

  “I keep trying to tell myself I’m crazy, but the feeling is so strong.”

  I waited, summoning Carly’s skill in the awkward silence that forces the other person to keep speaking.

  “Okay. I have to tell someone. I can’t take it anymore. I think there’s something going on between Max and his secretary.”

  My mouth dropped open. I closed it and waited again.

  “He’s been acting strange. I looked at his phone when he was in the shower and found some texts.”

  I nodded, remembering when I was the one who got caught because of the incriminating trail left by technology.

  “What did they say?”

  “Well, nothing that gave it away for sure, because he leaves his phone around, you know? I’m sure he’d be careful. But the tone, about work stuff and meetings, about seeing each other in the morning, it was too familiar. Something underlying the messages made it seem like…” She stopped to search for the right words, but I knew where she was going.

  “I don’t know,” I said, trying to sound dubious. “Max really doesn’t seem like the type.”

  “Anyone can be the type. You know that.”

  I looked down at the white table cloth, going back to the moment my dirty little secret had been discovered. I was in Dave’s apartment, in his bed, naked, trying to figure out how far I could let myself go as images of my wedding day swirled around in my mind. But it was all cut short when Rick called and said the four little words that changed everything, “I know about Dave.”

  I looked at her with compassion, shame, sadness. “Yeah, you’re right. Anyone could do it.”

  She drew a long breath in through her nose, trying to hold back the tears, and I grabbed her hand.

  “I’ve just been feeling so sick I haven’t paid much attention to him. And the surprise of a new baby, an unplanned baby… I think it was all too much for him. And she’s just so…”

  More tears. I handed her another tissue.

  “You’ve met her?
”

  “Lots of times. I’ve always had a strange feeling about her, like maybe she had a thing for him, but he wasn’t responding because everything was good with us. But now…”

  I couldn’t figure out how to ask the question on the tip of my tongue but it was burning in my mind. Shelly was one of the most beautiful women I knew. I had to work hard not to compare my olive skin and difficult curly hair to her supermodel pale complexion and silky blond hair. Like me, she had struggled with weight issues but finally conquered them and got herself into tip-top physical shape. I opened my mouth then closed it. I couldn’t ask, but I didn’t have to.

  “She’s twenty-four and has huge boobs. Other than that, she’s nothing special. Straight, short brown hair, plain face, too skinny.”

  I kept silent.

  “The thing is, she seems like the type who tries to make men feel smarter and more powerful than they really are. She’s got this sweet, naive thing about her and she seems to have so much admiration for Max. The times I’ve seen them together, it’s like she finds everything he says brilliant, which it’s not, of course.”

  “So what are you gonna do? Is there a way you can find out for sure?”

  “Well, I’m on a mission now. I’ve become a detective. I’m checking the credit card bills, phone records, his pockets. Since she works at the office and he’s mostly out at construction sites supervising his crews, they’d have to use technology a lot to communicate. I’m wondering if he has a second phone. I’ll get confirmation one way or the other eventually.”

  “I’m so sorry, Shelly. I really hope it’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “Yeah, me too. But I need to take a break from obsessing over it. Let’s talk about how you’re going to fix this kissing mess you created with Rick. Aren’t the kids spending the night at your mom’s tomorrow? They do every Friday now, right?”

  Before I could say anything Don appeared and leaned in too close as he placed my dinner before me. I wasn’t sure but it looked as if he had slipped a business card under the plate. I looked down and saw a tiny corner peeking out. Later, after we had finished eating and Shelly was on her phone trying to help Max settle a dispute between their two daughters over a fairy princess costume, I slid the card out. It was a postcard sized headshot of Don, only it wasn’t just his head. His chest was bare and the picture went all the way down to just above where I imagined his pubic hair would be. His chiseled stomach was tan and hairless. The ravenous look in his eyes and open full lips drew me in and I felt a burning sensation travel up my thighs. There was a phone number listed, and above it he had written, “Call me sometime.” Oh shit, I thought, this is not good.