FEAST OF MEN

by Ayn Dillard

  “You’ll meet my children. I want you to meet them. My two older sons will really like you. My first wife Suzette, I cheated on her mercilessly.”

  “Why?”

  “Really don’t know, I was real stupid. It was a really stupid thing to do while being extremely stressful. I was young and stupid. That’s why I’d never cheat in a marriage again. What do you do, dating in this day and time with this AIDS thing going on?”

  I screech, I’m so shocked by his question, “How would I know, Boyd? I haven’t had sex in years, I had an AIDS test after getting out of my marriage when I found out my ex was having an affair with some twenty-year-old who wears overalls, has tattoos and a belly button ring. I don’t have AIDS and sure don’t sleep around.”

  “Just wondering, I’ve been married for such a long time. I know nothing about the dating scene.”

  “Last time, I even came close to having sex was three years ago during the Christmas season, an executive type, I’d met months before. We reconnected and began going out to dinner. I guess, because of the time of the year, I was vulnerable and we were both lonely. He took me to the Nutcracker performance, a tradition for me at Christmas then to other holiday celebrations. I hadn’t been able to go to the ballet for a couple of years because of my financial situation. I cooked Christmas dinner for him, then we took a trip together over New Year’s with some friends. He was nice and it felt good just to be with someone, but when we began to make love. I felt sick and empty and wanted him to leave immediately. He was nice and fairly attractive, but I had no real feelings for him. I proved to myself, what I already knew that for me sex and love must go together or it’s not worth doing. I might be old fashion, but I need to feel strongly about a man in order to want to share myself with him physically. So, after your divorce, do you plan to be sleeping around? Is that why you’re worried about AIDS?”

  He answers, “God no, Natalie, absolutely not, I plan to be with you and only you.”

  “Well, the direction of this conversation is making me uneasy. I can assure you, I don’t have AIDS and I have a piece of paper to prove it if you want to see it.”

  With deep concern, “Natalie, don’t let my question bother you. I didn’t mean anything by it, just talking here and I certainly don’t need to see your AIDS test results. You’re being sensitive and silly.”

  “Well, I don’t sleep around. Sex and love go together. That’s just the way I am. You do realize that we may never sleep together anyway?”

  “Sure of course, that’s a possibility”.

  I change the subject, “Do you get to see your older boys often?”

  “Suzette remarried a man named Ron. The boys live with them in Seattle.”

  I ask, “Do you see them often?”

  “Not as often as I’d like. They’re older now, more into their friends and one of them is involved with a new girlfriend. Old dad takes a back seat to it all.”

  I can sense his pain about not being able to see his older boys more, “Geez Boyd, you have so many people to care for, so much responsibility—college, and everything.”

  “Yes, I do have a lot of responsibility, but their college is taken care of. I hate it that my younger children see such a horrible relationship displayed by my wife and myself. I believe the most important thing for children is to see a man and a woman with positive interaction between them. If the parents are connected and happy, then the children will be and will be more able to create happy relationships in their lives. It all stems from the relationship of the two main adults. Parents teach children about how to relate to the opposite sex.”

  I can hardly believe what I’m hearing because this is exactly what I used to say to my ex-husband about our relationship and his daughter, but he wouldn’t listen and couldn’t hear. When I realized, he appeared to be romantically in love with his daughter, with no capability or room for a grown woman in his life—it became a moot point. I recall the horrible experiences, I’ve had with men and shiver.

  Boyd continues, “My wife and I haven’t had a good relationship in years and it’s harming the children. If not now, it will in the future. I asked my daughter what she’d think if I had a different place to live, instead of living with Mommy. My son doesn’t get it yet—being so young.”

  “What’d she answer?”

  “She thought it’d be cool because so many of her friends are from divorced homes and so she thinks it’d be fine, if she’s from one too. She’s more looking at the idea of having two houses and two rooms.”

  “Yes, I understand what she’s thinking, two rooms, more toys, but divorce is rough on kids.”

  “Some women are made to be good mothers and some aren’t. You’d make a great mother, Natalie. I want to have your baby.” He laughs as he throws out that stupid, overused and old pick-up line.

  “Well, I want to be the baby, Boyd. I want to be your baby and you can be mine. I don’t think, I can have children anymore and am glad because now, I don’t want any. I don’t choose to be a mother anymore or even to be a stepmother, not after what I went through in my last marriage. I don’t want to be the mother of someone else’s children. I want a relationship with a man. I want to be like a mistress to the man I’m married to.” He’s listens intently. “But if the man I love has children, I’ll certainly do right by them. Sure, I’d love them, but that’s not the reason I’d want to be with him. My last husband was obsessed with his daughter and I was hurt badly. Granted, he was a sick man and he wanted to create a facade family with me being a figurehead wife.”

  Frustrated, “I’m not that other man, Natalie. He’s not me and I’m not him. My children have a mother. I don’t want you to be their mother. I just think if a child has more people to talk with, and relate to that it’s a good thing. I can tell that you would be a great role model.”

  “I understand that, Boyd.” As I think, I must remember not to judge him by my past, isn’t that what all my healing has have been about? “I’d be good to your children, but would you be able to take care of me? Right now, I need some help financially. Do you think your children will like me? Will I like your children? I do agree the more adults available to a child, the better. More people to love them.” I am rambling, but want to get things straight and be honest from the beginning.

  “Yes, my older sons will like you a lot. The younger ones are pretty connected to their mother, but they’ll like you. Natalie, you’ll be with me, live with me. I’ll get an apartment and will pay all the bills. You’ll only need to pay for, take care of your own needs for a while. That’d work—couldn’t it work, until things straighten out?”

  “Um, yes, but right now, I need my man to help me with what I’m going through financially. I’m being paid for doing research for a book collaboration, seeing clients then occasionally do some voice overwork. My ex-husband left me to support this house and I’ve been in survival mode ever since, and am a bit overwhelmed now. I need to sell this house. I apologize for telling you so much so fast. Children, usually like me. I always get along well with them, unless they’re difficult in some way.”

  “My kids are real easy to be with. My son looks just like I did when I was young. People see an old photo of me and think it’s him. My daughter looks more like her mother.”

  I can see in his face that this man adores his children, while I think, I adore this man. Only would it work for me to be with a man with so many children?

  He continues, “I want to hear everything about you. So, tell me all you want to, anything and everything.”

  He kisses me while maneuvering me to the floor where he hugs and kisses me some more. Being physically close feels so wonderful. We go together in so many ways except for the glaring fact, he’s married and all the other stuff that we’ve been talking about. I get up to go into the bathroom, to put some distance between us.

  He asks, “What again, are you always running to the bathroom?”

  “Not really, my tummy’s still upset from the cramps.”

>   He laughs teasingly, “Oh, I bet you’re always like this.”

  Alone in my bathroom, I take a few deep breaths then ask myself—is this for real? I’ve got to be careful, then I rush back to sit down on the floor close to Boyd.

  “I must leave by six because I want to see my children before going to sleep. I’ll need to be in bed by eight to fly out by four.”

  “Sounds awful to go to bed that early.”

  “Yes, it’s what we pilots call a ‘duodenal’. I’ll teach you all about the flying world. I have horrible sleeping patterns—always have. A fact of life in this career. Do you want to sit up on the bed? Are you cold?”

  It seems as if he can read my mind because I was just thinking the floor’s getting hard and I’m feeling chilled—so why aren’t we sitting on the bed? “Yes, let’s do.”

  He confesses, “I didn’t sit on the bed before because I didn’t want to be tempted, or to make you uncomfortable. I don’t want us to make love until we can spend days together. I want to kiss you all over, every inch of your body and take all the time in the world doing it.”

  Nervously, we get up on the bed. Boyd lays me down then we kiss—slow passionate kisses that awakened my whole body. Lifting my top up, he touches my breasts. Then he lifts off one side of my bra and kisses my breast and nipple while letting out a deep sexual guttural sign. “God I can’t believe, I’m kissing your beautiful breast. I saw you on the plane, your body and your beautiful breasts and now I’m this close to you and kissing you. Wow.” We laugh together—our ‘knowing’ laugh.

  Continuing to fondle each other, we’re both well aware we’re going just so far and no further. Touching, kissing, moaning enjoying each other’s closeness, Boyd’s hands caress my body. Before falling completely into the feelings, I catch myself. “No, please—no. Not that far.”

  Stopping, he teases. “Just want to make sure you’re a girl and not a transvestite or a guy. I hear you have to be real careful these days.” chuckles.

  I playfully respond. “Oh then, perhaps, I need to check you out also to make sure you’re not a girl.” He unzips his pants, “Okay, you’re a man.”

  Hugging and kissing a bit more. Boyd holds his left hand up in front of my face to show his wedding ring is no longer on his finger “I took it off this morning.”

  “Does your wife know?”

  “Yes, she saw me take it off.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  “No, she knows and it doesn’t bother her because she wants out, too. This has been going on for quite a while. It isn’t a decision, I just made.”

  We snuggle under the covers with our clothes on to warm up and continue talking. It feels good and so right lying in bed with him with our heads propped up on the pillows talking about our future. Time is passing and it’s now six o’clock. “Darlin’, I’ll need to be going in a minute because I’ve got to get to sleep early when flying out like this.”

  “I understand, but I don’t want you to leave because it seems like you belong here with me. You’re going home to the wrong woman.”

  “I am getting a divorce—not leaving my wife for you. You don’t leave one woman for another. I’m divorcing her and met you too soon. I met you too damn soon Natalie, and yes, I do belong here with you. This is where I belong with you.”

  “Have you actually filed for divorce?”

  “Yes, I have. I met with an attorney friend and have begun the process. I have my plan and am trying to do the best for all concerned by being fair.”

  “Boyd, everything we say and do now, will set the stage for our future. The decisions we make now will affect us for the rest of our lives.”

  He looks at me with his eyes filled with love. “You’re so right, Natalie. That’s why we need to be careful. I like everything you say. I like the way you think, analyze and look at things. What you say is what I want to hear and you’re so pretty, too. I got real lucky because you’re smart, kind and so pretty.”

  “Boyd, you’re embarrassing me.”

  “Well, wouldn’t it be just awful to like what a girl says, then open up my eyes to see her and think—blah!” We laugh simultaneously.

  He continues, “You look so beautiful just lying here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t exactly know what we can do, right now. Need to wait until April—we just may have to wait until then—then we can have the rest of our life together. To wait six months to be together forever wouldn’t be so bad—would it? I don’t want to ever do anything that’ll hurt you or damage your feelings for me. I want to be your prince forever. I always want to be your hero. After the family that you’ve had to endure—you damn well deserve one.”

  I say, “No, six months isn’t long, but I so want to be with you now, because I like being with you so much. This is just so crazy all of it. The way we met, the way we feel about each other and so quickly, and that you’re married. It’s crazy and so not like me and then the magic, too.”

  “It’s magic all right. If the plane hadn’t been diverted, we wouldn’t have been able to spend so much time together and we wouldn’t have fallen in love. I’d have called you in April to ask—‘remember me from the airplane last October? I’m divorced now and would love to spend time with you. Would you like to go to dinner?’ Only the airplane was diverted then we got a car. How about that, we even found a car at the exact time it needed to be returned to Dallas. Yes, it was all meant to happen, but how do we handle all of this in the right way for everyone concerned? I had my plan to be out of this marriage by April—way before I met you. Only now, I love being with you. I love you. I just don’t want to do anything that’ll mess up the plans I’ve made to get out of this marriage. I have my job and pension to think about. I’ll retire in six years and have a lot invested in my future. I have investments, stocks, all sorts of things that I’ve set aside for my retirement and I don’t want my wife to accuse me of leaving her for you because that’s not the case. I made up my mind about this divorce a long time ago, but I want my children to be okay through it all. I want my children to like you. I don’t want their mother to tell them I left her for you. That’s not the truth, but she might think it is. She might try to use this against me—you—us, and the children, if she found out about you. A scorned woman can be hell to deal with. They come after everything and use the children.”

  I reply, “I understand but what are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know right now, but I need to be going, darlin’. I need to get home, take a Melatonin and get some sleep. Walk me to the door?” Standing up, he nervously asks. “And where’s my book?”

  “On the chair in the entry hall.”

  “I don’t want to forget it because it’s like taking a part of you with me.”

  We walk with our arms around each other. We kiss, hug then finally kiss goodbye. I watch him as he walks to his truck. I warn as he glances back. “Don’t go jumping out of any airplanes, Captain.”

  He turns around and smiles at me, “Be sure and know that I won’t.” He gets into his truck then rolls down the window. “I love you, darlin’!”

  “I love you, too!” I can’t believe it—as these words tumble out of my mouth.

  “Miss Duncan, you just said that you love me. Are you aware of what you just said?”

  “Yes, I said it and I do. I do love you, Boyd.”

  “God, I am so happy that you do. I love you, darlin’. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Holding our hands up in a synchronized way of saying goodbye, off my captain goes.

  I lie down on my bed and snuggle under the covers for warmth then the phone rings.

  “Hi, darlin’.”

  Um, I love the way he says “darlin’” in his southern drawl.

  He continues, “Just checking, did you really say you love me? You did, right? I wasn’t just hearing things—was I?”

  “Yes, I did. I do love you. I don’t know much else right now or what’s going on or what’ll happen, but I do k
now—I love you.”

  “It makes me so happy to hear you say it.”

  I ask, “Where are you?”

  “Ready to go through the tollbooth and trying to get change out of my pocket. Baby, it’s expensive to come see you? I need to take out a bank loan just to come see my darlin’.”

  I chuckle, “You’re so weird. Boyd. Can we really be saying all this so fast, so soon? Can people—do people—fall in love this quickly—this fast?”

  “I don’t know, Natalie, about other people? I only know how I feel about you. I love you. I want to spend every minute with you and love you. That’s all I know.”

  “Have a good trip, Boyd. Talk to you soon.”

  I call Maggie to give her an update and to share my fears, excitement and expectations. She counsels and warns. Based on her experience, Boyd and I should lie low until his divorce is over. Stating if she and Brian had it to do over again that this is what they’d do.

  I firmly exclaim to her, “Well, I’ll not have an affair with a married man. Doing so goes against everything I’m about or believe. Married men have come onto me in the past and I’ve always recognized them for what they are and sliced them off at the knees. Why is this one so different and this experience so meaningful and so fast? How did Boyd infiltrate my barrier? Our meeting was magic. The way we met is like a romance movie. But after having a husband cheat on me—I could never be in that type of a triangle, dishonoring us all. Lied to and manipulated by a man’s weakness, insecurity and need—I can’t do that to another woman or myself.”

  As Maggie and I talk, I’m able to understand my emotions with more clarity. Off the phone, I know the only answer, but I can’t face it just yet. I see it all too clearly, but still am so looking forward to spending next Saturday with my love. I’ll work hard all week to get the research for this book underway while Boyd’s flying. Then on Saturday, we’ll once again be in heaven. Such a wonderful feeling to be falling in love and right now, I’m thinking with my heart. Boyd and I are captured by our intense feelings and aren’t letting reality sink in just yet. We want to be together and this is all we can see for now.