*Author's Note: Susan Winter is a 'relationship expert' who is a very attractive, 62-year old woman who claims to have never dated anyone older than 41. She says that after ending a ten-year relationship in which she was just going through the motions, she attended a wedding where a much-younger man kept asking her to dance. When she finally relented and he held her in his arms, she said 'it was like a dam had burst'. She felt like up until that moment she'd been 'sleepwalking' through life.
Not every younger man is interested in older women. But those who are tend to be looking for new experiences, and older women who are open to their advances often find themselves embarking on a whirlwind adventure filled with ups and downs, as well as a lot of informal social condemnation. This sentiment was echoed by Brigitte Macron, the wife of France's Prime Minister, her former student and lover, Emmanuel Macron. She was roundly condemned and essentially 'run out of town', even in very liberal, open-minded France when their relationship became public knowledge.
I have no idea what percentage of these real-life May-December romances end in marriage, let alone happiness, but here, at least, they always lead to both.
*****
Fort Wayne, Indiana. Population 268,000.
"You look beautiful, honey!" her mom told her.
"Thanks, Mom. I'm so nervous I feel like I'm about to throw up. Is that normal before your wedding?"
"Well, I don't think it's unusual," her mom replied.
"Sorry, Mom. I know you don't like the word 'normal' because that word is too broad and too subjective. But I really am freaking out."
"Honey, you love Robert. You've known him for three years, and he loves you, too," her mother reminded her beautiful, 28-year old daughter, Mackenzie.
"You're right. This is just the jitters. But then again, this commitment is for life."
"I had 23 wonderful years with your father before he died," omitting the year he wasn't the man she married due to no fault of his own.
"Yes you did. But you didn't have that with Alan."
"Okay. That's true, but Alan was kind and gentle and he was always so supportive."
"Mom? It's none of my business, and I know couples sleep in separate rooms for all kinds of reasons, but you and Alan...did you ever sleep together?"
"Sure. Of course we did," her mother said, not wanting to mention it lasted maybe ten months before she claimed his snoring was too much to take.
The truth was, she'd given up on passion after the death of her husband. She'd had that for 22 glorious years before the love of her life, her late husband Eric. He had mini-stroke one morning, then a month later, suffered a debilitating stroke. He slowly went downhill from there making their last year together one of the most difficult of her life as her husband slowly faded away right before her eyes. Even then, the last year they spent together was better than the best year she'd spent with Alan. So why in had she stayed with him for so long? How could she have let that much time go by? Was she just waiting for the clock to run out? If not, the question still remained. Why in the world had she stayed with him so long?
She knew the answer to her own question. Alan was safe. And he adored her. And why wouldn't he?
Connie Harris had been 48 and still gorgeous when they first met while he was 54 and, at best, average looking. Even now, at 58, Connie still looked unbelievably young and fit for a woman her age. One of the few upsides of living with Alan was being able to stay home, and staying home let her spend a couple of hours a day at the fitness center, something she thoroughly enjoyed. She was also able to afford to eat an exceptionally healthy, very clean diet, and it had paid off for her in many ways.
She was routinely hit on by younger men at the gym, but she always politely dismissed them. The truth was she'd never taken them seriously. And why would she? Why would a woman of 50 or so be interested in a man was 25 or even 35? What could they possibly have in common?
Yes, she still looked great, and Alan had regularly told her so, but she just couldn't bring herself to continue sleeping with him. She couldn't even call it 'making love' because there just wasn't anything there for her to love. He not only wasn't attractive to her, he was horrible in bed. In spite of gently letting him know what she needed many times, he never made any attempt to change. He'd nuzzle her a little, maybe kiss her a few times, and just as she was getting warmed up, he'd hop on top and it would be over in a a minute or so leaving her frustrated beyond words. And making matters worse she felt horribly guilty because he was such a decent guy who deserved better.
But as badly as she felt for him, she knew that her feelings mattered, too. So three months ago, Connie had finally told him it was over. That meant she was free, but she was floundering as she tried to figure out who she was and what she wanted out of life at the tender age of 58. The most obvious answer was still love; a love that included friendship but not limited to it as it had been with Alan. The other, a close second, was passion. Real passion. The kind she'd had with her late husband that left her breathless and wanting more.
But for now, her baby girl was getting married, and nothing else mattered.
"Come on, honey. Let's finish getting you ready, okay?"
Her daughter hugged her mother and told her, "I love you so much."
"I love you, too, Mackenzie. And try to relax, okay?"
Her daughter nodded then asked, "Mom? Do you think Dad's looking down on us? From heaven?"
"I...I don't know, honey. But if heaven is real, I'm sure he is. And if he is, I know he's very proud of you, but we need to get a move on. You can't be late to your wedding, right?"
Connie somehow managed not to cry as she sat there two hours later watching and listening to her daughter and her fiancé, Robert Carson, exchange vows. The whole thing reminded her of her own wedding and the years of happiness that followed beginning with their wedding night; a glorious night filled with some of the most passionate and romantic lovemaking she'd ever experienced.
Over the years their lovemaking changed, but it was always a joy. Many of Connie's closest friends had secretly confided to her over the years that they'd lost all interest in sex, and had used every trick and excuse in the book to avoid it. At least two of those women had given up their marriages in exchange for never having to be 'bothered' again.
She couldn't judge them, because she didn't understand how they felt, but more importantly, she absolutely didn't feel that way herself. All she could do was accept what they told her and live the rest of her life in a way that made her happy. The problem was, she had no real idea how that might happen, but believing it could and would seemed a logical place to begin, so she redoubled her resolve as she heard her daughter say the words 'I do'.
Even when Mackenzie walked back down the aisle with her new husband, Connie held it together. She was very happy for her daughter and so very proud of her. She looked up, wondering if her late husband might possibly be looking down and smiled.
"We did good, honey," she told him quietly in case he was listening. "And we both miss you so much."
She felt silly for 'talking' to him, but added, "I so want to find what we had again. Please understand that if I do, it doesn't mean I don't still love you very, very much. Because I do. And I always will."
And with that, Connie graciously accepted the many compliments on what she'd done to make the wedding a success then headed to the reception. As she drove, a wave of nostalgia swept over her followed by something much less pleasant. With her daughter married and Alan in her rearview mirror, Connie was truly alone for the first time in her adult life, and she couldn't help but wonder if she really ever would find anyone she could fall in love with again.
By the time she pulled into the parking lot, she was able to push those thoughts out of her mind and refocus her attention on her daughter. She was thrilled for her, and yet she couldn't completely shake the fears that were just under the surface, trying to boil up to the top. So while she did her best to put on a happy face, she was mostly feeling...sad; sadder than she'd ever felt in her life. She knew she'd put her game face on when she got to inside, but unless something fundamentally changed, all it would be was some kind of social mask; a mask she had no interest in wearing for any length of time.
As if on cue, the moment she stepped inside the large hall she was paying for, she put on a bright, happy smile and said 'hello' to everyone she saw, whether she knew them or not, and there were many of her new son-in-law's guests she'd never met. If they were friends, she'd stop and chat and graciously accept their congratulations. If not, she'd smile politely and keep moving.
Connie rarely drank, but right now, all she wanted was a glass of champagne and maybe even two. There was an open bar in back, and after working her way through the crowd of people, she got in line and waited.
There was a younger couple directly in front of her holding hands and two single guys ahead of them. Behind the bar was a younger man who was politely taking orders, mixing drinks, and handing them to the people requesting them.
When she was number two in line, she got a better look at the bartender and realized he was extremely good looking. He was the epitome of 'tall, dark, and handsome' with jet-black hair, a very nice-looking face and a square jaw. He also had a pleasing smile, and once she heard him speak, Connie even liked the sound of voice.
"Hi. What can you get you this evening, young lady?" she heard him say without actually hearing a word.
She'd been staring and hadn't even noticed when the person in front of her stepped out of the way.
"Oh. Sorry. My mind was wandering, I'm afraid," she said, not wanting to admit why she hadn't been paying attention.
"Ah, yes. I hear there's a lot of that going around," he said cheerfully before asking again, "so...what'll it be?"
"Oh, right. How about a glass of champagne?"
"Coming right up," he told her.
