Rich was putting away the last of the dishes. Wednesday night. Another night when he and the kids ate dinner without Marie.
"I'm going to bed kids," he called into the living room. A muffled chorus responded that it was ok.
As the house began to darken, Rich brushed his teeth, studying himself in the mirror. Had he aged, or was he imagining that he had? The past few months he had been deprived of Marie's company while Tim dumped his load into her. Sure, it was a "noble cause" - helping their friends to have a second child, but it was taking its toll on him. He unceremoniously spit foamy toothpaste into the sink. Leslie's company never quite made up for the empty feeling he seemed to perpetually carry around. Rich was sure his work was suffering as well. To top it off, the holidays were rushing onward like a freight train in the night. Marie had become the decorating type in the past few years while he felt relegated to the Grinch cave. "All I need is a dog with a stupid set of antlers," Rich mused; it was almost funny.
"Wipe your mouth, turn off the lights, crawl into bed," he thought. A quick search brought the plastic remote to his hand. Rich flicked on the TV, the blue glow filled the room with its cold light. He dozed fitfully. The zombie movie or Mayan apocalypse invading his dreams just enough to prevent him from falling into a deeper slumber, yet not enough to cause him to awaken and vanquish it with the power button. He became aware of a zombie gaining ground on him grasping at him trying to pull him to the ground. Rich awoke with a start. Slowly the grey turned to light as he realized that Marie had made it home and was laying next to him in their marital bed.
"Hi honey, gotta pee," he rolled himself out of bed to flick on the light in the bathroom. His piss splashed and echoed in the tiny room. She was home. Although Rich was not shy about peeing in front of Marie, he had closed the door. He felt it gave him the tiniest amount of privacy, the door becoming the incarnation of their emotional boundary widened with each passing week. A half night's sleep looked worse on his face than the weight of a full day of distracted work. Rich slowly washed his hands, dragging out the moment when he would return to his chaste bed – at least as far as sex with Marie was concerned. He gave himself a half-hearted smile, telling himself that this wouldn't be forever. Soon Marie would be pregnant and the additional nine months of celibacy would come to an end. He would no longer have the pleasure of Leslie's company, nor would he need it. Rich smiled a little more with the thought of being wrapped into Marie's welcoming arms again. Of course, that was down the road.
He flicked the light and walked the short distance back to their bed. Curiously, Marie was still dressed. Even curiouser, the light was still on. Rich looked at her inquisitively, but figured it was merely an oversight, that she was tired and just hadn't gotten the energy up to changing to her pajamas. "Plus you were hogging the bathroom, idiot," he told himself.
But Marie had a different look, a tiny glint in her eye. She moved so she was sitting at the edge of their bed. Her gaze became intense, "Rich," a single word escaped her lips. The sound of his own name puzzled him.
Rich was intent on climbing back into bed and falling back asleep. She was home, done with the weekly "deed". He paused when she spoke when she spoke his name. Her light skirt fell around her knees, she had already kicked off her shoes. Marie played with the buttons on her blouse opening the top ever so slightly. He was stopped dead in his tracks. "What is she up to?" he wondered. His analytical mind told him there was nothing at all up. But she was playing with those buttons. Slowly, almost tauntingly. Her left hand fell along her thigh and looked to be pulling up her skirt in small pinches of fabric. Yes, quarter inch by quarter inch her thigh became more exposed as Rich just stood watching.
