I want a marriage that’s about more than the kids’ activities and our work schedules and what needs to be done at the house. And who’s going to get the cut-up vaginas from the grocery store. Geesh. That was one for the record books.
I nod my head and look away. I’m ashamed to admit that to anyone, including myself. Two months. Sixty-six days, to be exact. And what we had for a few months before that wasn’t anything to write home about.
“Well, think of it this way, when you finally have sex again, you’ll be tighter than a nun. You’ll be re-virginized!”
A snort-laugh bubbles out of me because damn her, I’ve actually thought that! I need help. We both do apparently. I drop my head to the table and bang it a few times.
She giggles lightly and grabs my hand that’s dangling lifelessly at my side. “You, Stella, need to get your groove back, and the rest of it, the stuff that’s just as important as the sex stuff, will fall into place.”
“How many of these do you have, exactly?” I groan and glare at her, even though she can’t see me since I still haven’t lifted my head. She really is the definition of ridiculous.
“What, witty remarks that help you forget your vagina is lonely? Hundreds. No. Probably thousands, but I’ll stop. I’ll be honest…” She pauses until I look up and make eye contact with her. “…two months is a long time, yes. But it could be worse. And remember, life has been insane lately. First things first. Harps has got to stay in her bed. Do what you have to do. At this point, you need to be above good-parenting skills and hit up the BookFace variety. Bribe her with a new doll or riding boots or whatever you can think of, but seriously, she needs to keep her scrawny horse-riding butt back in her own room.”
She gives me a stern look, and I nod in agreement. I know this. I’m not an idiot.
“Second. You two are going away. For a few weeks at least. Obviously, Cole can’t come home and stay with the kids, but Grady and Maggie are old enough to take care of things, for the most part anyway. Call your brother. They adore Uncle James and will love to have him come hang out for a while. He works out of his house anyway, unless he’s traveling to a different restaurant, and you know he’d be there in a heartbeat. The volleyball and football seasons are almost over. We’ll help with the kids too. You know that.”
She’s right. James will be here in a second if he knew we needed his help. He works with restaurants that are going under, revamping their menu, décor, staff. He loves everything about the food industry, including cooking, so at the very least the kids will eat incredibly well while he’s there. If we asked him, that is.
“I know that. And it actually sounds like a really good plan. Two weeks seems like a little too much, but I agree that we need to get away.”
“But…” She ended speaking with a lilt to her voice.
I blow out the breath I’d been holding and watch the barista frantically filling orders for a few moments. Admitting the no-sex fly zone that had inhabited our home for the last two months was one thing. Admitting that I was afraid my husband didn’t like me anymore was a whole other thing. Of course I know he loves me. But like me well enough to be alone, no kids, no distractions, for two weeks? I don’t know. I’m terrified to find out, though.
“Talk to me, Tess. What’s the problem here? This is Barrett and Josh’s slow season. Or slower season. You can say no appointments for a few weeks. James will come help. I’ll even help you find a place to stay.”
“I know all that. Those details I have no worries about. I’ll miss the hell out of the kids, but as long as I can still check in with them every day, I’ll survive.”
“What’s the issue then?” she presses. I know she won’t back down, either. It isn’t her style, and, to be honest, it isn’t mine either. Neither of us would ever let the other sit quiet over coffee when there is something clearly weighing down the other’s thoughts.
“What if Barrett doesn’t like me anymore?” I murmur, saying the words out loud for the first time. Geesh, my hair hurts.
“Come again?” she asks, her eyebrows raised in my direction.
“I know he likes me. I know he loves me. But what if we are too into our boring routines of our humdrum life that we can’t focus on each other and put the rest of it behind us? What if we’ve become one of those couples whose relationship is built solely on the kids and everything else? I can’t tell you the last time we made out like teenagers on the couch just because. Or even cuddled. I miss the intimacy. I miss the innocent touches. I really miss the sex…” I groan. I was feeling borderline pathetic at this point, and I prayed that she understood what I was trying to say.
“Oh, hon. I get it. I really do. You two have just lost focus of why you fell in love in the first place. We all miss those butterflies we get from the early moments in relationships. You’re not alone there. But don’t think for one second that Barrett isn’t one-hundred percent in love with you,” she said, holding up a hand to stop my argument.
“And yes, in like with you, too. He likes you a whole lot more than a little.” She laughs.
“I KNEW you saw that on BookFace, you dork.”
“I admit it. That was a good one. Dammit. Cute little penguin. But, trust me. That man’s as smitten as he was in the beginning. Life is just getting in the way of the woo.”
“Ugh. The damn woo. I swear the damn woo is gonna be the death of me. Or lack of, anyway. I can’t remember the last time I felt wooed,” I admit and choke back the tears. “It’s just been so long since Barrett showed me more, you know?”
I see the look on her face. The look that said I had confided in the right person. The look that said she had ideas rolling around in her crazy head, ideas that said that Barrett should probably block her number. I know she and Josh haven’t always had it easy either. But they are basically empty nesters already. Their twins, Brandon and Mia, are Cole’s age. Brandon works for the guys, and Mia is at the same college as Cole. With no kids distracting them at home, they’re like sex-starved hippies, willing to do it anywhere they see fit. I think they’ve been caught either well on their way or in the middle of doing it at the office at least a dozen times.
I can’t say as though I’m not jealous though. I’d kill to have that sort of sex life once again. The sound of that damn tweety bird chirping brings me out of my funk once again. I look at my phone and instantly feel lighter, happier. It’s a picture of Barrett. At Costco. By a giant boxes of condoms. I knew he needed to grab some supplies for the shop as well as the vegetables I’d asked him to pick up for tonight and by the looks of it, he apparently got sidetracked.
Me: What the…
Barrett:
Me: I don’t even want to know.
Me: Do I?
Barrett: Oh yeah, pretty girl, you do.
Me: I fold. What are you doing in the condom aisle?
Barrett: Looking at condoms. Duh. Seriously, pretty girl, I really thought you were more perceptive than this, darlin’.
Me: Oh my gosh. No, you dumb ass. I realize that you’re looking at them. What I wonder is WHY?
Barrett: If I must spell it out for you…
Me: You must.
Barrett: We haven’t done it in a… well a really long time.