She smiled, unable to take her eyes off him. “I can imagine. Care for a drink?”
“Not right now, thanks. Let me put down the carpet fist.”
“Do you want to do it now? You said you’re tired? And it’s nearly dark.”
He shook his head. “Not that tired, and it won’t take long.” He fetched the carpet from the garage, and she helped him clear the furniture on the lanai, watching from the living room door while he fitted the piece in place, cutting and tucking, the bug-lights illuminating that part of the lanai.
“See, now it’s done,” he said.
Together they put the furniture in place. She took a few steps back to look at the result. “I love it a lot, can’t thank you enough.”
Turning off the bug-lights she disliked—their shine warped the colors—she prepared drinks; beer in a mug for Michael, and ice tea with a slice of lemon for herself. She felt his eyes on her, following her every move.
She raised her glass. “Here’s to a job well done. Cheers.”
He smiled. “Cheers.”
Drinks in hand, they returned to the lanai. Sitting by the table, Nina reached for the book of matches to light the candles, but his hand restrained her. “Please, don’t. It’s so pleasant like this.”
In the light of the declining moon, they sat listening to the music of the wind chime mixed with the chorus of crickets. The muscles in Nina’s neck and shoulders cramped, and she could hardly sit still. Finally, nerves won out and she slipped a random CD on the player, Louis Armstrong doing old standards.
Michael hummed along with the music. “Ah, I like this. It’s too good to waste. Come, dance with me.” He stood and pulled her to her feet, taking her in his arms in a dancer’s stance, holding her in an easy embrace.
And they danced—they really danced—not just shifted their weight from one foot to the other. Michael was nimble and smooth, his sense of rhythm sure, his movements sensual. He held her the way a dance partner does, not too close, to give him freedom of movement to lead. His right arm lightly encircled her waist, the thumb of his right hand against her spine.
At first Nina felt ungainly, her body tense from shyness and nervousness. The nearness of him was foreign.
“It’s been a lifetime since I danced, it feels strange.”
“Relax and let me lead.”
His breath tickled her cheek.
She sighed, suppressing a shiver.
It was decades since a man had held her in his arms. She was afraid of her unaccustomed feelings and of his maleness. She wished she had remained on safe ground seated by the table. But she also wished for the dance to go on. Gradually, the closeness became less frightening and she loosened up. She let the night and the music captivate her. Adjusting to him, she followed without effort.
“There, you’re doing fine,” he whispered close to her ear.
Pulling her near, he put both arms around her, leaning his cheek against hers. Her hands moved to his shoulders and after the merest hesitation her arms went around his neck.
They held each other, cheek to cheek, swaying to Louis’s “Kiss of Fire.”
And then she recognized her emotion for what it was—desire. But something more, tenderness and a feeling that her heart was going to burst. She wanted to hold him to her, to melt into him. Her arms tightened around him, and there was no denying it, this felt wonderful.
He drew back his head and glanced at her. His face gleamed from perspiration. She felt him hard against her, felt the heat in him.
Cupping her face between both his hands he whispered, “I want to kiss you.”
Oh no, that’s too much. “Yes, kiss me.”
Michael moved his lips softly against hers. The kiss became more urgent. She caressed his neck, young and boyish under her hands. And her fingers were in his hair, clean and springy and full. One of his hands was lost in the curls of her hair. With the fingers of his other hand he stroked her neck, a feather-light touch that burned her skin.
“It’s warm where you touch me,” she whispered.
“Nina,” he murmured against her mouth. “My Nina” And she opened her lips to his probing tongue caressing hers.
They didn’t notice when the music stopped, but kept swaying in each others arms.
With her hand in his, he led her to the table. “Let’s sit.” He sounded out of breath, the way she was.
She inhaled to steady the trembling and sat next to him.
This was an important moment, a turning point, and she knew it.
Chapter 18
Sitting next to each other, Michael took Nina’s hand and kissed the palm, a lingering caress. With the tip of his tongue he touched the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist, sending shivers up her arm. “Nina, I’m no good with words. I’m not sure how to say this.”
He held her hand between both of his. “Something beautiful is happening between us. I’m falling in love with you. Let’s not spoil it by rushing things. I’d like to make love to you right now! But let’s take it easy, get to know each other better.”
Relief washed over her; he didn’t demand a commitment, so she didn’t have to make a decision right now. Calm down, it’s all right. She sipped her drink, tepid and so sweet she almost gagged.
“Nina?”
She glanced at him, barely an outline now that the moon had moved away from the lanai. A street lamp from across the back yard shed a weak light.
Her hand grasped his and held on. “I’m confused. I don’t know what to say, Michael.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I understand that you’re confused.” He laughed, a soft sound. “In fact, so am I.”
She took another sip of ice tea. She should get fresh drinks, but the round trip to the kitchen to prepare them seemed such a waste—she’d be away from him, so she let it be.
“I’ve been in such a hurry all my life,” she said. “With much of my life now behind me, I know how precious time is. I’m not in such a rush anymore. I can wait. I think the world of you, but I’m afraid of a relationship.”
She put her head in the soft bend where his neck met his shoulder, loving the way he smelled of airdried shirt and his very own smell. They sat like this, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her.
“I feel good when I’m with you,” she said.
Her heart thudded.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” The tremor in his voice gave away the emotion behind his words. He cleared his voice and lit a cigarette. “After Cindy and I divorced I was alone for a long time. Five years ago I met Judy. I fell insanely in love with her. Fortunately, we didn’t marry, but we lived together for about a year. During this time I was very happy, and I thought she felt the same.”
Nina’s throat constricted. She sensed his need to tell her, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to share in such intimacy.
“One day I came home from work to find Judy in bed with a man. This was when I discovered she’d always had a succession of other men. We fought. Judy threw her unfaithfulness in my face. Names and times. Every dirty little detail. She told me how she used to laugh behind my back, because I was too naive to suspect anything.” He passed his hand over his eyes, as if to block the memories.
“I can still hear her shrill voice and the mocking, almost hysterical laughter. The vulgarity of it.” His voice cracked. “I knew enough to understand she was sexually insatiable. I think she timed it so I’d catch her. She started living with me in the hope that a steady relationship would settle her sexual appetite. But obviously, I couldn’t cure her craving or silence her demons. We split up.”
Michael sat, lost in memories. He seemed to shiver, and dropped the cigarette stub in an empty beer can. He took Nina’s hand, holding it in a warm clasp. “I had to tell you. I want this to be a new beginning for us, built o
n honesty.”
Nina listened intently to his account. Puzzled, she asked, “Didn’t you suspected anything? Wasn’t there even a hint that she led a double life?”
He was quiet for an instant, then shook his head. “If there was, I didn’t see it. I worked long hours at the hospital—this was before I opened the outpatient clinic. My absences left Judy free to do as she pleased. The sexually obsessed are as devious as drug addicts or alcoholics; they’ll go to any length to satisfy their needs. They’re skilful in hiding what’s really going on.” He was thoughtful. “No, I don’t think I suspected anything, not before Judy wanted me to find out.”
Taking her hand out of his, she grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and dabbed at her eyes. Despite her training and experience she hadn’t learned the appropriate detachment to people’s suffering. She was making Michael’s pain her own. Because he was the man she was growing to love, keeping the right emotional distance was difficult.
“Evidently. You’re right, to some people, sex is an addiction. I’m so sorry that you had to go through such a painful experience.” She wadded the tissue into a tight ball. “And now? How do you feel about it now?”
“This happened a few years ago. It’s over as far as I’m concerned.” He touched her cheek. “After we broke up, I worked through it with a therapist, and I talked to Oren Jones. It helped me understand Judy was a very sick person. When I understood that she was powerless to control her impulses, I could forgive. The pain is gone … and the anger.”
“It’s good you’ve dealt with it. Nothing poisons life more than resentments; they hold us prisoners to the past.” She leaned against the back of the chair. “I may be prying, but when did you start seeing Sophie?”
“You’re not prying, sweetheart.” He brushed a hand over his face, as if to clear away clutter in his mind. “I was on the rebound, hurt and lonely. Sophie was there; she was understanding and caring. It was never meant to become a permanent relationship. That would have been too soon after Judy.” His voice was serious. “At our age we have baggage. As far as I’m concerned I’ve left it all behind me. I hope that you won’t let any of this bother you, that it doesn’t make a difference between us.”
“No, it doesn’t bother me.” She gave a shaky little smile and stood. “I’m glad you told me. I’d rather hear it from you than find out by chance.”
Nina went inside to prepare fresh drinks, grateful now for a few moments to sort out her feelings. This was the opportunity to unburden her own secrets. If she didn’t grab it now, she might not have another chance—or the courage—to share her painful past. When she returned to the lanai, Michael squeezed some lemon juice in the drink she placed before him, then let the wedge drop in the glass.
She sat next to him and took a few sips of her ice tea. “The similarities in our experiences are startling.” She hesitated, still unsure if this was the right time to tell him. “You know I’m divorcing my husband?”
He gently squeezed her hand. “Yes.”
“Even if you hadn’t told me about Judy, I would’ve found the courage to share this with you—sooner or later. Like you, I don’t want secrets between us. Talking about this will help me leave it behind.” She gazed into his eyes, barely discernible in the near-darkness. “Is it all right if I tell you now?”
“Of course.”
Nina took a moment to gather her thoughts. “André and I had been married for a few months. I was pregnant with Lillian and the happiest I’d ever been. I was married to the man I loved, expecting my first baby. What more could any woman want!
“Then one day my best friend’s husband phoned. Without preamble or frills he told me that his wife—my best friend—and my husband were having an affair. Thinking it was a joke, I laughed. Not for a minute did I believe it was true. My trust in André was complete. I couldn’t imagine something like that of my friend or my husband, but of course it was true.” With an elbow on the table she leaned chin on hand, momentarily silenced by memories. “I won’t bore you with the details. I wanted to divorce him immediately, but André talked me into giving him another chance; anybody could make one mistake, he said, swearing it would never happen again.
“Lillian was born.” Nina smiled at the memory. “I felt such awe over this tiny being. I could hardly believe I’d produced someone so perfect and … complete. I was giddy with happiness, counting my blessings. When I’d finally convinced myself André’s affair with my friend was a bad dream, it happened again. This time a friend told me.
“I learned about the third woman when Danny was only a month old. It happened barely two years after the first time.” Gently she withdrew her hand from his.
“That’s when I made the choice I’m still living with, carrying this secret all my married life. To this day I keep wondering if that decision wasn’t a terrible mistake.” She hesitated. “Let me rephrase, Michael. I know that decision was very wrong for me. I made it for the children’s sake, but I’m not so sure it was the right one for them, either.”
She squeezed her hands between her knees to still the tremors. “I told André that our life as husband and wife was over, but as long as he was discreet about his women I wouldn’t leave him. For me, divorce was out of the question now that I had two children. I wanted them to grow up with both parents. For their sake I felt it was necessary that I stay in the marriage, as long as André didn’t pollute our lives with his women.” Briefly, she closed her eyes. Opening them again, the light from the street lamp sparkled in a blurry ball through her tears. Oh, my God, I can’t cry! Not now. She swallowed hard and shook her head.
“For thirty-seven years I looked the other way, pretending not to notice the small discrepancies in schedule, the smell of unfamiliar perfume, the implausible business trips. I was the perfect wife with the perfect husband and children and home. My life was the kids and my job. I never questioned whether I was happy or not. I’d made my choice and accepted my existence. Sometimes I felt lonely, but I shrugged it off, rationalizing that everybody feels lonely from time to time.
“And it worked—until two months ago when I returned unexpectedly and caught him in the act. He was making love to a woman in our home. He’d broken his promise to keep it away from our family, and no pretending on my part would make this go away. The next day I filed for divorce and came to Cape Coral shortly after.” She groped for his hand to hold, to anchor her against the surge of pain. “I’m so ashamed I let André humiliate me for all those years. I’m embarrassed I had so little self-respect to have put up with his dishonesty.
“I’ve told Danny about this last episode. He doesn’t know about the years I lived a lie. Lillian was so angry with me for divorcing her father and leaving France, she refused to believe her father’s adultery. Although she’s since seen him with another woman, I’m not reassured she won’t go through with her threat to keep me from seeing the twins and cut herself off from me. There, I’ve said it all.”
She tried to swallow against the lump in her throat, her eyes brimming over.
Beside her Michael stirred. He stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her, stroking her, crooning sounds of comfort. He fondled her neck, her shoulders, thumbs caressing her throat, the palm of his hand coming to rest against her cheek.
Finally she had told the story, what she had kept to herself for so many years. Michael’s arms around her spoke of his compassion, and she found comfort in his presence as she nestled close. While he held her, swaying with her in a rhythm as old as time, some of her pain receded. There were still things she needed to tell him, but lacked the strength to do it all at once.
“You’ve had your fair share; first the abuse from your father, then married to a no good as a husband.”
She nodded against his shoulder. “I’ve wondered what’s wrong with me that those two men were so hard on me. It’s as if I’m defective.”
“You’re not defective. It’s not your fault your father and husband mistreated you. I don’t know why so much hardship seems to be heaped on nice people like you.” Sighing he held her tight. “Oh, Nina. Life sure has dealt us some hard knocks.”
“Yes. Life is tough, but I can take it.” She kissed him with her lips wet from tears. “Thank you for listening.”
With an arm around her shoulders, he led her inside and sat next to her on the couch. “What about your children, Nina? Is it really important that they know the full story? You’ve told them about the incident that forced your hand, but do they need to know it all? I mean, in detail?”
She glanced at him, surprised. “I don’t know. I’ve mentioned that this wasn’t the first time. Maybe they don’t need to know more. But if I keep quiet about it, am I not perpetuating the lie?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think so. You don’t have to answer questions they don’t ask. André is their father; if their relationship is good, leave it be. I don’t think children need to know everything about their parents. What do you think?”
She nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”
“What about Lillian? Hasn’t your relationship been good?”
“It’s been warm, but she’s closer to André, the usual father-daughter connection.”
“How will you deal with her?”
“For the moment I’m waiting to see what she decides. If she tries to keep the twins from me, I won’t let her. There’s such a strong bond between Morgan, Natalie and me, nothing is going to jeopardize that. I’ll go to France to confront Lillian, if I have to.”
After a moment he nodded. “Sounds wise. You’re very courageous.”
She leaned her head against his chest and heard his heart beat. “Michael, I’m so grateful you’re here for me. It’s such relief to know I don’t have to deal with this alone anymore.”
He caressed her head, an arm around her shoulders. “I’m here, any time you want to talk.”
“I’ve said all I need to say for now. I never want to rehash this again. André and I are in the past. The future is now.”
Life Is A Foreign Language Page 14