An Interlude to Cherish

But not for long, because I fully expect him to pick up his plate and hurl it at me, food and all. Instead, for the moment at least, he sits there, imbibing more wine and mumbling to himself like an old man. The tension is mounting. Buzzed or not, I can feel it, crawling over me like a bunch of angry killer ants. Once again, I start to laugh. More like a nervous giggle. Then I manage to say, "James, for what it's worth, the affair is over." I think to apologize but then scotch that idea because it would be phony. As I told Brice that last night in Rehoboth, I don't regret a single minute.

James sits back in his chair, arms crossed against his chest. "It's over?"

"Yes."

"So's mine."

"Yours..."

"In Paris, I hooked up with a divorcee. Camille was her name. Nothing complicated. No love gained or lost. Just sex."

"Good sex?"

"Good enough to keep us going. How was yours?"

Oh, the superlatives I could spill. But I won't. Nor will I reveal that it wasn't just about the sex. With us women, is it ever just about the sex? "Good enough to keep us going."

"But not so good that you'll keep it going?"

"No. I mean, right. Not so good that I'll keep it going." A half-truth, because if my marriage falls apart over this, I sure as hell would try to keep it going.

He's still slouched in his chair, hands folded, thumbs twiddling. "Brice Freeland...wow. The TALL one. Does he know it's over?"

"He does. Besides, he has a girlfriend."

"Does the girlfriend know?"

I shrug. "Don't know." I really don't know yet if Brice had said anything to Kelly-Ann.

"Okay, so now what?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'd like to make a go of repairing this marriage. We're both admitted adulterers. Which begs the question...Would you have admitted your affair if I hadn't first admitted mine?"

He stops his thumb twiddling and sits up. "Honestly, probably not. What happened in Paris I had planned to leave in Paris. Like I said, it was just sex. Which begs my own question. Would you have wanted to know that I slept with another woman?"

Hmm...I consider this. "Probably not. That is, if it really is over and you and this Camille aren't surreptitiously exchanging love notes."

"We aren't and we won't."

"Good. So where and how do we begin?"

"Maybe that trip for starters. If not the beach then the Grand Canyon or Yosemite. Only this time, I think we should get someone else to watch our condo. How's that sound?"

"Sounds wonderful. Now let's finish this meal and then plan it. Shall we?"

Later, we have sex. It's okay. Actually, it's a bit awkward. Out of sync. Out of rhythm. Tentative. We haven't done this in a while. In fact, we didn't do much of it before we left for Paris nor much there, either. But at least our bodies work like they should. The "basics" are there. He keeps an erection; my juices flow. No K-Y needed. We're in motion--but more like going through the motions. I wonder if he's thinking about Camille. Maybe he wonders if Brice is in my thoughts. I won't lie, he is. But we play the game: don't ask, don't tell. It's a start.

*****

All's well that ends well? Not quite. James and I have lots of work to do in order to repair something that might not even be repairable. We first have to LIKE each other again, and that might take some doing, considering what's transpired since Paris. But we're trying. We'll see. Can't wait to leave for Yosemite. We plan to see it AND the Grand Canyon during the same trip.

Meanwhile, Brice calls me at work. He and Kelly-Ann had a nice fourth of July weekend. No, he hasn't told her, nor does he plan to. "What good would it do?" he asks. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her." When I tell him that James knows, he says, "I'm impressed with your courage. I hope you guys can work things out." Then he says, "But I still miss you, Colette. Our walk on the beach that last night...man, so nice. One night I'll never forget."

I take the phone away from my ear for a few moments, struggling not to cry. Then: "I miss you, too, honey. You gave me the most wonderful few days I've had in a long time. Not to mention our time before that."

I brush away tears after hanging up. I shouldn't be crying over a college kid, no matter how wonderful the time we spent together. Saving my marriage is what's important. So why am I feeling so upset? Lamenting my lost youth, perhaps. Wishing I was that young girl again because Brice did make me feel that way. For me, it was one of those exciting and beloved interludes we enjoy at least once in this otherwise mundane life, brief but forever cherished.