I have to be honest with you. I've been having an affair for over four years. My husband, Irving, is aware of my affair and he's down with it even though he can't share it with me. It's my affair and mine alone but he encourages it. We've made a lot of money from it.
No, it's not something illegal or blackmail. It's not like any affair you might imagine. It's not even a reflection of the usual affair. You see, the affair is with my mirror.
Let me explain as it happened. It began in January 2016.
I'm Ginny. I'm forty-six years old and married for twenty-seven of those years to Irving. We have two beautiful daughters, both already married and Maris, our oldest, has almost four-year-old twin girls.
Irv and I have been enjoying rediscovering the relaxation and freedom of our empty nest lifestyle since Janis, our youngest, got married last summer. Many of our friends have mourned their children leaving home and some of them have had bouts of depression over the separations. For Irv and me, it has been exactly the opposite. We revel in the return of the freedoms we had before the children arrived, especially the sex.
For the last twenty-three years we've been moderating our sexual activity concerned that we might wake the children when they were younger or cause them to ask questions about the noise when they were older. Now that every room in the house is available to us without fear of attracting attention or interruption, we've returned to the active sex life we shared before Maris was born. No room is safe from Irv's interest in my body or my willingness to entertain him. No room has been spared our energetic and frequently loud sexual unions and neither of the girls have a house key so we're not apt to have a surprise visitor.
All the activity has also renewed my interest in my body. I want to keep Irv's interest and my body is the best thing I have to lure him. While raising the girls, I admit to losing some of the muscle tone I had during the early years of our marriage. Not that I didn't think about it often and wasn't concerned about the changes but I just didn't have the time.
Now, I pay more attention to my diet and I've joined a gym and exercise five or six times a week. The results have been obvious. I've lost weight, my tummy is flatter, my breasts firmer and I'm convinced Irv's increasing interest is a related consequence. Another consequence is I spend more time in front of the mirror. I deny becoming more vain. I'm just trying to evaluate the changes and identify where I need to focus my efforts.
The only useful mirror in the house is a large one above the sink in the master bathroom. It is difficult to fully evaluate my body, especially below my waist, in a mirror designed to ease shaving and combing our hair. I could only observe my lower body by stepping back from the mirror and the distance made detailed examination impossible. I managed but I was not satisfied with the results.
I am always on the lookout for a bargain. I regularly peruse Facebook Marketplace for local sale items from nearby neighbors and I frequently find items listed so cheaply that I can't resist. I've found and bought everything from art for our home to toys for our grandchildren.
My affair started on January 6th when I came across the stand-alone, full-length mirror for sale on Facebook, I almost dropped my laptop in my haste to message the seller. Within the hour, I was in my car on the way to the seller's home to see the mirror.
The mirror was six feet high, oval framed in walnut with a wide, stable stand also made of walnut. It swiveled on its base and could be tilted to any angle from a pivot at its center. The design was simple and would complement almost any interior design. I immediately inquired about what the owned wanted for it.
When she suggested twenty dollars, I had trouble containing my amazement. I quickly pulled a bill from my purse and bought the mirror. With the former owner's help I wrapped the mirror with a blanket I found in the trunk and managed to get it into my car by lowering the passenger seat all the way back and setting it diagonally across the seat into the back of the car.
As I shook her hand and prepared to get into my car, I couldn't resist asking her about the low price. She tried to explain how the mirror didn't work properly and she admitted that, if I had questioned the price she was prepared to give it to me free.
I pondered her statements about the mirror all the way home. How could a mirror "not work properly?" It had no moving parts save a swivel and a pivot that seemed to move effortlessly. A mirror just reflected what was in front of it. How could that not work properly? I put the question out of my mind before I reached home.
At home, I enlisted the aid of Irene, my next-door neighbor, to move it into our bedroom. I repositioned a chair and a small table and set it into a corner between the bed and the bathroom. I removed the blanket so Irene could admire my coup before I thanked her and sent her home. I wanted to be alone with my new mirror.
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusted the tilt to reflect my full body and immediately noticed that something was wrong. It was me reflected in the mirror. I was wearing my little black dress and three inch heels. The problem was that I was actually wearing jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. In the mirror, I raised my arm to move my hair aside as I examined the back of my dress near my neck although I hadn't moved a muscle since standing in front of the mirror.
I gasped, raised my hand to my mouth and backed up until I collided with the bed and sat down on it. In the mirror, I was still examining how I looked in my little black dress. "Shit," I thought to myself. "This is not possible. What the hell was going on?" I stood up, threw the blanket over the mirror again and went into the kitchen to make myself a drink.
I was on my third strong lime cosmopolitan when Irv came home. It didn't take him long to ask me what was bothering me. He could taste it on my lips and see my nearly inebriated state. I tried to explain the workings of my new mirror but between my slurred words and the impossibility of what I was trying to tell him, I'm sure he began to doubt my sanity. I decided to show him instead.
I led him into the bedroom and showed him the mirror in the corner with the blanket over it. He removed the blanket and admired the mirror's workmanship. He was equally impressed when I told him I'd only paid twenty dollars for it.
I had him stand in front of the mirror and asked him what he saw.
"Myself," he told me.
"What are you wearing?" I asked.
He must have thought I was balmy. I could clearly see what he was wearing. "A light blue shirt, a tie with a dark blue stripe and gray suit pants," he answered.
His description was right on. He was wearing a light blue shirt, a tie with a dark blue stripe and gray suit pants. "No. No," I said. "In the mirror. What are you wearing in the mirror?" I emphasized.
I'm sure he knew I was insane or at least drunk. "A light blue shirt, a tie with a dark blue stripe and gray suit pants," he answered. "What else?" he asked.
