My husband and I were sitting in a limousine heading for luxurious accommodations on a cruise to the Caribbean for a honeymoon trip. Unfortunately reality and that statement are a bit at odds. Actually, we were on a bus described as a limousine - a nice bus, but still a bus. Our cruise accommodations actually involved an inside cabin and we called it a "delayed honeymoon" because we had no money for one when we were married ten years before and this would be a sort of replacement. But that bus ride and cruise took place years in the past.
In fact, I'm writing about an event that took place a little over twenty years ago, an event that had repercussions that, in a way, will mature in a few short weeks. It has been a private secret all these years and I know that I will feel relief to finally confess it in writing even if no one but me reads it. I think that it will be like the confessional in which only God, through the priest, knows of my sin. Oddly enough, however, while my actions clearly violate the Commandment "Thou should not commit adultery" and I was born and raised as a devout Catholic, I really have no strong feeling of guilt and, certainly, no regrets. No, that is not completely true - I did suffer the pangs of guilt, felt remorse and had a guilty conscience for some time, but those feelings have largely vanished with the years and with a firm belief that nothing bad, and something very good, came from my indiscretion. I'd better go back to the beginning which actually was about thirty years ago when my boyfriend, now my husband, and I graduated from college.
We were deeply in love - still are, for that matter - and had our future all planned out. He had majored in accounting and statistics and had lined up a very good job in his field. I was an English lit major and had graduated with honors and had been awarded a position as a graduate assistant teaching while I worked on my Master's. I loved academia and my real ambition was to get a PhD and teach at the collegiate level. I had idolized many of my professors, had serious crushes on a few of them, and I wanted to be one of them. We were in complete agreement on this goal and we, necessarily, planned to put off having a family until it was accomplished.
The wedding was small but lovely. As I said before, we had no money or time for a honeymoon (although Jim's company gave him a week off) so we just enjoyed a period of joyful togetherness in our first apartment before the new semester began. This, of course, included a considerable amount of sexual intercourse with no rubber barrier reducing our pleasure. We had used condoms (we called them rubbers then) before, but I was now on the pill. Life was good.
After that delightful week reality came back, but in a good way. I attended my first graduate courses and one seminar and, most exciting of all, faced my first students as a college instructor. It was frightening but exciting. But then, the blow fell - I was pregnant!
Something had gone wrong but neither I nor my gynecologist could think of any mistake I could have made since I was certain that I hadn't missed any pills, but I was undeniably pregnant. Some women love being pregnant, some have easy pregnancies, but not me! I hated it and so did my body, and my academic career was put on hold. I was forced to drop out at the end of the first semester and, the following May, I had a baby girl. I loved her and I was a doting mother, but I still resented the limitations placed on me. When she was a year old, I began considering ways in which my academic career could be revived - but when she was one and a half, I was pregnant again. With what turned out to be my second daughter, my dreams of Master's and PhD degrees turned into distant fantasies.
In some ways, making the whole situation even worse was the surprising discovery that I was one of an infinity small number of women for whom the pill simply didn't work. Again, I was certain, I had done nothing wrong. I had never missed taking a pill, never used the incorrect schedule, etc. The pill just didn't do its duty and stop my production of fertile eggs! I was fertile every month and, apparently, could become pregnant very easily. Even science and my body were against me, and my dreams of an academic career were banish to a distant future. So, the pill was dropped and to be replaced by the less convenient diaphragm. That problem was solved but motherhood became my career.
Why didn't I try to make those fantasies real when the girls were older? I don't really know, but I think I was in a rut, inertia holding me back. In addition, to be truthful, I think that I had lost my confidence. It was easier and safer to accept fate and be a housewife - while resenting it in the back of my mind. Still, it was comfortable and I loved being there as my daughters grew. In any case, time passed and as this essay began, there I was, the mother of a ten-year old and an eight-year old girl, sitting with my husband on a bus going to the New York City cruise port.
This was a story in itself for we had not planned on a cruise or any other vacation at that time, but it sort of fell into our laps. We had maintained ties with the alumni association and had even participated in a number of fund raising campaigns, so I was not surprised to receive a call from the activities chairman, a friend of ours. We had received a brochure some time before for a college sponsored twelve-day cruise in the Caribbean, but, as with most things like that, we had scanned it and thrown it out. The picture changed dramatically when the call came just after Christmas.
"Hi Judy, this is Linda." There was the usual opening chit chat and then she got to the point. "Listen Linda, you know that cruise to the Caribbean we've sponsored? It was what we called a 'long cruise for well-heeled alumni' among ourselves. We linked up with ten other alumni groups with each group offering it to their alums. Apparently we have a lot of 'well-heeled alums' for it went exceptionally well. The registration time expired yesterday and there are a few cabins left that are not booked and the cruise line has permitted us to offer them at half price. We have one of them and, since you've been very helpful with us, we immediately thought of you. I don't know if you're interested, but it's a wonderful deal. We have to know pretty quickly for the line wants to wrap it up. What do you think?"
"Gods, Linda that does sound wonderful! What would it cost?"
"I don't believe this myself, but the total cost for the two of you for twelve days would be $300.00. [$540.00 in 2014 dollars. Inflation!] Think, that's $25.00 a day, $12.50 each, with cabin, all meals, entertainment - everything! I'd grab it myself but I'm not eligible, damn it. There is only one flaw. It's an inside cabin so you have no view, but the cabin on a cruise is only a place to sleep. The rest of the time there is the whole ship. What do you think?"
"I'm stunned! It costs us that much to stay home! Look, obviously this is something I don't want to pass up, but I'll have to talk with Nick, see if he can get off, figure what to do about the girls - how much time do we have?"
"The cruise leaves just after New Year's, January 3, and line wants the names this week. So if you can't take it, we need time to offer it to someone else pretty quickly. I would have to know by Wednesday."
"Ok, two days."
I thanked her effusively for the offer and immediately called Nick. Needless to say, he was thrilled with the offer and began negotiations for vacation time in January. Fortunately we had passports gotten years ago for a possible senior year abroad that hadn't worked out. I called my mother and she was willing to come and live at our house while we were gone so that the girls could stay in school. Nicks bosses came through and, with whirlwind preparations, we finally found ourselves on that "limousine."
Parenthetically, I just read back over this opus and realized that I never identified or described myself or my husband. Actually, I'm writing this without really intending to make it public and have never considered the need for doing so. However, to make it more complete, I'll say that my name is Judy Aykes and my husband is Nick Aykes. I am about 5' 4" and at the time these events took place I was 115 pounds. I was in good shape even after having two kids, and I can say, without false modesty, that I still had a very nice figure. I would be described more as "cute" than beautiful, but all through high school and college I was "hit on" regularly. However, when it was firmly shown that I was not interested in "putting out," the relationships usually ended quickly.
The result was that I was still a virgin entering my senior year in college. I wasn't prudish or frigid and I enjoyed a reasonable amount of petting, but I just wasn't interested in doing more. It just didn't interest me. I wasn't a cock teaser because I made my position clear right at the beginning - which undoubtedly cut down on second or third dates! Actually, I was more interested in my classes than in sex and there may have been a hangover from my Catholic religious training. In any case, that all changed when I met Nick Aykes.
He was about 5' 10", quite good looking and in good shape. I was English literature, he was math and statistics, but something pulled us together. In short order my attitude changed toward sex and long before graduation, that virginity I mentioned disappeared. Within a short time we were fucking every chance we got - which was not often enough since dorms were still segregated with eagle-eyed house mothers in the women's dorms. In my case, it certainly was waiting for the right man to come along - and he did. The ultimate result was two daughters, Malinda and Chrissie. It has worked for 30+ years and is almost as hot as ever. Ok, back to the bus.
The bus ride was very convenient. The cruise line employed this "limousine service" to start, this time in Boston, and pick up passengers in designated city stops, ending up in New York. Nick and I always want to avoid the tension of arriving late, so, on departure day we started out early so we could get into the long term parking lot and get into the bus station without haste. This time, however, we had driven for about ten minutes when I exclaimed, "Where's my tote bag? All my cosmetics and stuff is in it! It must have been left on the chair! We'll have to go back!"
