There is something about the ocean air that makes me able to sleep long and deeply. The excitement of the Friday night did nothing to prohibit my sleep that night, although I was nudged gently a few times in the middle of the night by my husband Jim who was probably trying to reassure me. He didn’t have to bother. I was very comfortable with the strength of our relationship and very sure that my interaction with his friend, Sam, (one little blow job at Jim’s suggestion) would do nothing to harm us.
When I finally awoke around 8 am, I slipped out from under the covers quietly so as not to wake Jim. I could hear Sam moving around downstairs and I thought it would be good if I went right down and talked to him. I felt it important that I manage this situation as much as possible. As I hope you can tell from my writing, I am a very strong person. Perhaps because of the stigma of my name, Candi, I was always trying to overcome people’s first opinions of me as an airhead. I worked hard in school. I managed to get into a prestigious Eastern college where I first met Jim so I wasn’t going to have trouble addressing the issue that I faced that Saturday morning.
I noticed a certain tension in the set of Sam’s shoulders as I walked up behind him in the kitchen so I reached up and began to massage his neck. He slowly turned to me with a questioning expression but I just smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Last night was fun, Sam. Don’t you agree?”
“It was awesome, Candi. Thank you so much,” he responded. “I woke up in the middle of the night and for a minute I wasn’t sure whether I had just dreamed the whole thing. I wish there was some way to thank you - and to thank Jim.”
“I did your thanking for you when I got back into bed,” I laughed. “But, Sam, there is one thing I want to ask. When we get back to Boston on Monday, what are you going to tell people about me? I know that it is natural for guys to tell each other stories about things like this, but I really don’t want this to get out. I’m not worried about my reputation – I don’t care what people think. But I do love Jim and I’m afraid that if a bunch of his friends hear about this, they might start to kid him and it could effect HIS view of me. Jim and I have a good thing going, a serious thing, and I don’t want anything from the outside to ruin that. If we’re going to screw it up, I want it to be our doing - and if we don’t screw it up, I want to marry him.”
It felt bizarre to say that out loud to another man. Jim and I had talked about marriage a little bit but just in general terms. Suddenly, I was confessing my feelings to someone else. Sam didn’t look surprised but he waited a long time before replying.
“You may not believe this, Candi, but I promise you that I will never tell this story to anyone. First of all, I’ve known Jim a long time and what you are saying about your relationship doesn’t surprise me. I guess we’re all getting to that stage where the idea of settling down with one person doesn’t seem so bad anymore. But that’s not the only reason, and the second one is a little selfish. I figure if I keep your confidence by keeping my mouth shut, we might be able to do something like that again - maybe even this weekend.”
My initial reaction to this statement was surprise but before I could speak, my body began to betray me. Men won’t understand what I’m talking about because I think they walk around with a constant sexual urge rippling on the surface of their bodies, but women are very different (as if you needed Candi to tell you that). When a sexual urge hits us, particularly when we are doing something or focusing on something completely non-sexual, it starts from somewhere deep inside of us and begins to emanate outwards. I suppose I should study the Hindu chakra theory to see if that would explain it but it starts low – close to our vaginas but deeper. It’s like an unseen vestigial organ of womanhood and mating and the warm feeling then spreads upward and outward until it gets to skin level. That was what I felt from Sam’s words and in my warmth I reached out and hugged him so that I could whisper in his ear. “Maybe,” I said because I wasn’t sure myself.
Of course, the gods have a sense of humor so it was while we were locked in this hug that Jim entered the kitchen with a laugh. “Does this mean that I have to pack my bags and hitchhike home?” he asked.
I reached out and pulled him toward me. “No, Jim. Sam and I were just enjoying each other’s company and sharing a few secrets. You’re still number one in my heart.”
“Thanks for your support last night, Jim” Sam added. “It means a lot to me.”
Jim didn’t seem to know what to say to that so he just smiled at us both. “The weather looks terrific. Everyone seems to feel good so let’s eat and then hit the beach. We can finish talking there.”
So that is exactly what we did. We packed a big cooler with waters and beers. We threw together some sandwiches and snacks and headed off to Third Beach in Newport with Sam’s windsurfing board on the roof rack. It was a glorious June day and I couldn’t have felt better about the last 24 hours of my life. I will never forget the feeling I had that day.
Of course we all know that sitting out on a hot beach can do for one’s libido. It was just a fantastic day to watch all of the other people revel in the 85 degree temperature. Sam took off for most of the day down to the other end of the beach where the windsurfers were, so Jim and I had a lot of private time together. We didn’t really talk about Sam or what happened the night before. One of the things I like about Jim is his ability to know when to avoid a topic. But even though we weren’t talking about it, I knew it was hanging there between us and that at some point we needed to address it. I just figured that Jim would know the right time to bring it up. Around three o’clock we switched from waters to beers and it was while reaching for our second Budweiser that Jim chose to broach the subject.
