Good golly my feet hurt. I paused at the back door to our house and pulled my shoes off. I had taken an older couple on what seemed like a tour of every last house listed by the realty company that employs me. I, silly woman that I was, had not expected this and had worn two inch heels to the office today. So after walking through what seemed like three dozen houses, their yards and assorted extra features I was very happy to be barefoot.
I was happy for other reasons too. The walking and talking had paid off. The couple had decided on the largest, most elegant and best of all, most expensive house. It had been hanging around the company's neck for well over two years. In addition to the regular commission, which was already going to be good, a bonus had been offered for the salesperson who got lucky. With the deal completed and the prospect of enough money coming our way to solve our immediate bills I decided to scamper home.
I hoped it might be a good chance to catch my husband Roy. He was in his final year of law school but he should be between classes for a few hours if I recalled his schedule correctly. I was ready to open the bottle of champagne we had in the fridge, drink some of it and then see if I couldn't persuade him to lick some of it off me. We hadn't been doing much of that lately. I attributed it to the long hours I had been working and the massive amount of studying Roy had to do.
If we could just hang in there for this last school year, we would have it made. We had been college sweethearts, first beginning to date in our sophomore year. Immediately after graduation we had married. We had both plunged into entry level positions in business, working all kinds of hours. We had agreed to postpone children until we were in a sound financial position, perhaps even strong enough that I could quit work and stay home.
Within six months our sex life had vanished. Both Roy and I were working 16 hour days, coming home just to snap at each other. Finally one day we sat down and looked at each other.
"This has got to change, Christy, or we won't see our first anniversary, much less our twenty-fifth."
I struggled to keep from making a sharp comment. Not because he was wrong, but because that simply had become the way I had answered him lately. I used him to relieve my feelings, and he did the same to me. I took a deep breath.
"You're right, honey. We're two driven, nasty people now. I don't like us. If we keep on this way we'll be two driven, nasty and alone people."
He stood up and paced. "I have an idea. Its something I've always wanted to do. It would mean more rough going for a while, and you would be carrying a lot of the load. But after, if it all worked out, we'd have smooth sailing."
So here we were, almost at the end. Roy had revealed his fantasy of becoming a lawyer, and I had revealed one about one day becoming a stay-at-home mom. SO he went back to school. We jettisoned our business careers, put his suits into storage, got rid of the second car and moved to a small rental house near campus. I found employment at a nearby real estate firm, first as a secretary, then as a saleswoman, and a pretty darn good one at that.
Courses and study programs and papers filled the hours for Roy. I became knowledgeable about mortgages and frontages and facings and square footages. We actually had fun impressing each other with the increasing mastering of the skills we were acquiring. We didn't have much money left over from our bills but we were keeping our heads above water. I even enjoyed my job enough to think about perhaps keeping it on a part-time basis after Roy's graduation.
Our sex life shot back up again. Thank goodness. It wasn't back to the every night roll-in-the-hay we had enjoyed when we were dating but it was highly satisfactory. Roy hadn't been a virgin when we had met, but then neither had I, and what we had each learned from other lovers we applied with enthusiasm to our relationship. I was happy. It seemed we had it all and even more would be coming after Roy's graduation. He was way up in his class and it didn't hurt that he had experience as a business executive, even at the entry level. Already a couple of firms specializing in corporate clients had met with him.
However. There always seems to be a "however". During the latter part of this term things had tapered off again. From three or four times a week, we had fallen to once a week, then once every two weeks, and now it had been over a month. I was a pretty normal female, especially in my appetites and I needed some loving. I was horny enough that for one moment I actually thought Herb, the office lothario, looked good. This was a guy who wore checked suits and parted his hair in the middle. He drove our gorgeous blonde receptionist crazy with his attempts to date her, but could always spare an off-color remark he thought was a compliment for any of the other women. The day I actually paused for 5 seconds when Herb made a comment about my legs was the day I knew I had to do something.
Therefore the "take the rest of the day off and celebrate" remark by David, the owner and director of the company seemed like a godsend. I bounded out of the car in our driveway and headed for the refrigerator as I considered which of my few outfits of skimpy lace might prove to be the most alluring.
"What the heck?" I thought. The bottle of champagne was on the counter and open. The metal rack of glasses we kept for celebrations was perched next to it and two of the glasses were missing. I would have loved to believe that he had expected me home and was preparing a warm reception for me, but I doubted it. First, he had no reason to think I would be home until after 5 and it was only 2:30. Second, the low female laughter that drifted down the hall from our bedroom wasn't me. I was sure of that.
I walked down the worn carpet of the hallway. The laughter was louder now, broken by moans that I had hoped to be uttering myself, if they indicated what I thought they did.
They did.
Roy was lying on his side, facing away from me, as was the hopefully at least teenage blonde that he was with. Her leg was draped back over his hip in a move I normally would have found easy to copy. After this hectic day I couldn't have done it without resorting to prescription strength pain killers. His hips were pumping back and forth and the gasping sounds they were both making created the impression the pair of them were a bellows at work. I captured a glimpse of them in the wall mirror. They both certainly looked like they were having fun, judging from the blissful expressions on their faces.
The movements speeded up. There was some unrestrained yelling, aimed in the general direction of heaven apparently, judging from the calls to God. Then they were snuggling down with each other. I managed to withdraw out of sight, if not out of range of the voices.
"Damn that was good Cynthia." Well, at least I now had a name to go with the body.
"Always is lover. Roy, should we be doing this here? What if your wife catches us?"
"Don't worry about it. She never leaves work. She's always plugging away like the old work horse she is."
"Old work horse?" I thought dazedly. I was 24 and thought I managed to stay in pretty decent shape. Not that blonde's shape, I had to admit, but damn. That's a hell of a way to talk about somebody, much less someone you're married too. Someone you told this morning "I love you."
Roy was on a tear though. He was explaining to this cutie what an indifferent woman I was. How I never "understood him". How I always put work first. He even managed a muffled sniffle. For all I knew a tear was running down his cheek.
Shit, he was good. I was even mad at that cold woman he was married to. The one whom he had done so much for, tried so hard for, worked so long to please. Of course when I remembered that cold-hearted bitch was ME the anger turned another way.
I slipped back down the hallway and went looking for the video camera I had borrowed from work. It came in handy when walking new properties to record everything about them for the listing description and pictures. I had used it the other afternoon and had not returned it, although I had put the tape in my briefcase.
I stopped in the living room, looking around. One part of my mind was thinking that this sounded like a really bad soap opera scene or a cheesy detective story. I was going to tape my husband and his lover. Another part was remembering the last time we had used the video camera at home. Even under the circumstances I blushed.
We had been feasting on Hamburger Helper and Miller beer. I had been wearing one of his shirts and not much else. When I leaned over the table to snag the last piece of cheese toast, he had run his hand up my leg and grinned.
"Hey there, good-lookin'. Come here often?"
I had turned and sat down in his lap, wiggled my butt against him and given him my best roughish look. "Not often enough big boy. Why don't you make my visit here memorable?"
