I was 19 when I married Eddie and I was so young and naïve. We were married for 20 years; in fact, we had just celebrated our 20th anniversary with a surprise party that our friends had thrown us. The party had ended and that was when Eddie decided to break the news to me. We stood among the streamers and balloons; he held my hands gently as he told me of his lover, his 24 year old lover; and that she was now pregnant with the child I could never give him. He was leaving me for her. He wanted a fresh start in life. I vaguely remember slapping him, more than once I think, before he retrieved his already-packed suitcase and left the house.
I could say I was devastated, but that wouldn't come close to explaining how I felt. I was completely stripped to the bone; made to feel to be an inadequate woman unable to bear children and paying the price now by the loss of my husband to a more fertile woman. Silly me, I had thought we were in this together. That we would go through the in-vitro and hormone shots, the planned sex and endless moments waiting for test results together. Meanwhile, the bastard was fucking around on me. The fact that she was pregnant just added insult to injury.
Just two years earlier, at Eddie's suggestion, I had quit my job to take the pressure off myself and help me 'relax' enough to get pregnant. I had done nothing but take care of myself, prepare myself to carry a child for the last 24 months. I exercised to strengthen my abdominals and uterine muscles to the point of a softly outlined six-pack. I had done about 5 million kegal crunches to strengthen my pelvic floor in preparation for childbirth. I had done so many of them that I could hold Eddie's cock in my pussy practically against his will, the muscles were so strong. My body was strong and healthy, but at 39 I had some generous (I liked to think of them as voluptuous) curves. I would definitely never be mistaken for a man.
I spent my days at the spa and the gym, getting massages and workouts with a personal trainer. I spent half a lifetime swimming laps in the Olympic sized pool. I read every book I ever wanted to read and kept myself busy by improving my mind and health. I made myself the perfect receptacle for a baby to thrive. I think this was the last straw for Eddie. He was paying for a lifestyle that never paid off (in his mind) in return. Had I known he only loved me for my supposed baby-making abilities....well, honestly I would have married him anyway, but at least I wouldn't have been blind to what he expected.
I drifted, lost, for several months after this revelation from my husband, my best friend, my only lover. I had to work hard just to get out of bed in the morning; the depression gripped me so tightly. I mourned him as though he were dead, then lamented that he still lived and was happy while I shriveled up and ached for death to claim me. It was easier to think of him as dead than as having just left me. My heart literally hurt; all day, all night; every single moment.
It was during this time of deep despair that Maria came into my life. She was kind and full of laughter. She somehow made me see humor in the situation. She made me smile when I didn't think I was capable. It was she who first fixed me up with the man who would have the dubious honor of being my first real date after the love of my life shredded my heart into teeny tiny little pieces. Poor man, I spent the evening shredding him into little teeny tiny pieces. I later called to apologize, but he hung up abruptly and....well, I can take a hint.
Not one to be discouraged by failure, Maria continued to set me up with more of her friends (I was nicer to them) and friends of friends until when that failed she resigned herself to just continuing to invite me to dinner and fun little outings with her, her husband Jon and their son Tony.
When I met them Tony was a somewhat scrawny 16 year old who would look at me with these soft brown eyes. He was always sweet to me and, although I realize why now, I just thought he was being the gentleman that his mother raised. Now, two full years had passed while I watched him with his girlfriend and helped him through the many times they broke up then reconciled. He seemed to turn to me when he was the most confused and I gave my advice to him about girls with the aplomb of a maiden aunt or other trusted advisor.
Now preparing for a dinner to celebrate his 18th birthday, I reflected on how much Tony had grown and changed in the past two years as I dried myself off from the shower and dressed for dinner with Maria and her family. Some of the more risqué questions he had asked me over the last two years ran through my mind as I tried to recall how I answered them. Always honestly; of course, but on occasion I thought perhaps, I answered a bit too honestly. I shrugged the feeling off with a quick motion of my shoulders as I dropped the towel to the floor. I took a long moment to study my naked reflection in the full-length mirror mounted to the bathroom wall.
Not bad, I thought; tight abs, strong but smooth leg and arm muscles; breasts full but not too large and still resisting gravity. I turned in an attempt to get a good look at my buttocks and was pleasantly surprised by how tight and firm they were; all of those lunges and twists had paid off. It was only then that I felt brave enough to lean forward and study my face in the magnified mirror. Every woman's nightmare, especially nearing the age of 40, but even then, I thought, "Not bad Lucy, not too many lines. You could pass for 35...maybe."
I knew from the outset that it would just be the four of us for dinner. So why did I feel the need to dress somewhat provocatively? Tight black skirt and ruby red blouse with just enough cleavage to be a little hot, but not enough to be obvious (obvious of what, I questioned myself). I made a conscious decision to not think about that as I put the finishing touches to my make-up. I had taken special care to line my eyes and add a dusting of eye shadow before swiping black mascara onto my eyes. All of this was designed to accent my bright blue eyes and make them, well, unforgettable. It was my motivation that troubled me.
*******************************
I arrived a little early hoping that I could help Maria get dinner ready, but my brisk knock was answered by my hostess saying she and Jon were just leaving. Her mother had an emergency and she had to get there right away. She apologized for not calling, but she wondered if I could have dinner with Tony tonight. "I just hate to drag him away on his birthday." She explained.
I had an immediate sense of apprehension, but for some reason I found myself nodding and saying, "Of course I will. You just take care of your mom." I looked around the living room and asked, "Where is the birthday boy?"
"Oh," she replied, "he's downstairs. Go see what he's done with the basement. He's made it over completely so he can have his own "place" while he goes to college. He and Jon worked hard, it's pretty amazing."
I hesitated a moment and Maria encouraged me, "Go, please. Make him stop working out and get ready to have dinner." As I stood there, I heard the door slam as she and Jon left for the hospital.
Somewhat reassured, I made my way through the kitchen (which smelled heavenly, by the way) and down the stairs to the basement. I was stunned by what I saw. Tony had taken a dreary cold basement and turned half of it into a home gym and the other half into his bedroom, I guessed. There was a painted wall dividing the basement in half. His bedroom, if that's what it was, must be huge considering the fact that the basement ran the entire length of the house. There was another room jutting off from what I assumed was the bedroom, a decent size but not overly large. Something made me choose this door to knock on and call out tentatively, "Tony?"
The door swung open and the scent of body wash and steam wafted out at me. He stood framed in the doorway with just a towel hanging loosely off his hips. His hair was wet and curled over his neck and his chest glistened with the moisture. Every plane and valley was accentuated and I could feel my mouth go suddenly dry.
"Lucy, did come down to wish me a happy birthday?" He said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
I found that I had trouble just forming simple words when confronted with the vision before me. My prevailing thought was Adonis. This is what the Greeks imagined Adonis looked like. If Tony had lived then, he would have been immortalized in marble. Somehow, I managed to croak out, "Uh, dinner's ready. We should eat." I sounded inane, I know, but my brain was not functioning properly.
