FEAST OF MEN

by Ayn Dillard

  Always looking for my true love, then to now have this incredible connection with a wonderful man—only he’s married. Is this just another fake out with more betrayal to come? We love each other, but it won’t be able to happen because of some reason that I have nothing to do with. Loving an unavailable man once more—not because of his addictions or issues, but because he’s married. Therefore, making it impossible for me to experience a fulfilling loving relationship with a man. Perhaps, I should go back to my original plan before meeting Boyd—to become a woman who dies of love and sex depravation.

  Except why was the airport closed and plane diverted on that particular day? Why did he decide to stay over in LA and fly out Monday morning instead of leaving earlier? Why did David have me flying out of DFW when I requested Love Field? Why did I even visit David? A man, I had little to no interest in. Why was there a car waiting to be driven to Dallas when the plane landed in Oklahoma City, offering us the opportunity to spend a whole day to get to know one another? Why do we have such strong feelings for each other and so quickly? Why does our humor match so well? Why is all this happening and most importantly why is he married? Is it a test? It must be some kind of a lesson, or perhaps a trick.

  I drop the film off at the one-hour photo place then hurry home to get out of this dreary weather. In the shelter of my garage, I recognize once again that this house is my only safe haven during all of the turmoil and stress of these past years, but it must sell quickly even though I’ll miss it so much.

  After entering the house, I check phone messages. “Hi darlin’, it’s four o’clock. Just got home and am so tired. Going to sleep and when I wake up, I’ll try to call you. I love you baby, miss you.”

  Boyd’s message was left a four o’clock, exactly the time when I was feeling him so close. So okay, even though I’m tired, I’ll force myself onto aerobics—I’ve got to release all this emotion someway. My darling is asleep and I’ll feel better after an invigorating workout. During all my stress and change, working out has saved my life. I relax for a bit and snuggle into bed for just a few moments before it’s time to go. I’d sure rather be cuddling up with Boyd—then the phone rings.

  “Natalie darlin’, I’m so glad, you’re home. Where were you when I called earlier?”

  I question, “I thought you were going to sleep.” As I think, he sounds so tired and his voice doesn’t even sound like himself. “You sound so tired. I was at one of my appointments.”

  “Oh, I really wanted to talk to you. I am really tired, but wanted to talk to you before going to sleep. I needed to hear your voice.”

  I ask, “Are you okay? You don’t sound so good. You sound really tired and grumpy.”

  Gruffly, “Yeah, grumpy and real tired. My wife started in on me the minute I arrived. I couldn’t even get my car into the driveway because of what the builders did on the house where they’re working next door. I asked her, why she didn’t say something to the construction crew. She angrily commented that they’re nice guys. Sure, they’re great guys while they screw up our driveway. She argues with everything I say.” With a loud voice and full of frustration, “She even yelled at me in front of the children and I can’t stand it when we fight in front of them. I’m disgusted and so tired of fighting.”

  Listening to all this, I am extremely uncomfortable hearing what he’s saying about his wife. I refuse to be his confidant about his falling apart marriage because I want to be his love. Just thinking about him being married makes me sick to my stomach and irritated. I state, “I don’t want to hear about what’s going on between you and your wife because it makes me uncomfortable. After all, you’re getting a divorce and aren’t getting along. So, I refuse to hear about your arguments because it hurts me to hear it.”

  “What? You mean that I can’t talk to you about what’s bothering me?” his voice becomes more frustrated. “I want to hear everything about you. If you’re going through something, I want you to talk to me. This is really upsetting me that you’re won’t listen to me.”

  “Boyd, I want to hear everything you say and all about you, but not about your wife or your arguments with her. Later, when you’re out of the marriage and want to talk about what went wrong, I’ll want to hear it. Right now, I don’t. While it’s all happening—no, I don’t want to hear it.” I think to myself, after all the shit I went through with my last husband’s ex-wife I can’t stand to hear about, or be involved in this type of turmoil ever again. I hate it and I’ll not hear it—any of it. If that’s what he wants me for—too bad. I detest arguing and fighting and have experienced enough of it to last a lifetime.

  Grumpy voice, “Natalie this makes me feel that you don’t really care about me.”

  I answer, “Would you want to hear about an argument, I was having with another man?”

  “I want you to tell me everything about you and your life. I want to know everything about you and if you’re upset about something—anything. I want to know about it.”

  I reply sarcastically, “Yeah, right.” Then think, geez, he’s so tired and irritated. I need to change the subject to lighten things up. “Sweetheart, you’re so grumpy when you’re so tired—you little grumpy baby. I wish I could kiss and hold you.”

  Chuckles, “Yeah, bet that I wouldn’t be so grumpy then, but yeah, I’m grumpy now—really grumpy. I am sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Why don’t you go on and get some sleep? You’ll feel better.”

  “Okay, you’re right. I love you.”

  “Love you, too. Have a good sleep sweetheart.”

  I snuggle in for a few minutes more, then go onto workout. As I think, he certainly comes home tired and grumpy after flying. I’d love to kiss him to sleep, but hate it that he talked about his wife. I’ll not be the one he turns to for comfort about his failing marriage because I want to be the one he comes to and stays with forever. Why would I want to hear that crap? Just further proof, there’s no way I can be involved with him until he’s divorced. There’s going to be months of arguments.

  After working out, the weather is colder and the wind howls blowing leaves around my car. I love blustery fall weather. Halloween’s coming and that night is so fun, especially if it’s cold and windy. I am so glad I’ll have someone to love this fall, but just as quickly as I’m thankful—my heart sinks into the reality of—or will I? Driving, I pass by the street sign Stanford—to recall that’s Boyd’s street. Wouldn’t it just be even more kismet if his house is one that I’ve passed many times before?

  Arriving home, there’s a message from Boyd. While loving his messages, they’re also becoming irritating because I want to see him. I want a real relationship, instead of one with a phone and message machine.

  Boyd’s message—“Natalie, it’s six forty-five and I’m calling to see if you’d like to go to dinner tonight. Anxious voice, “Where are you, honey?”

  Umm, I thought that he was going to go to sleep. It wouldn’t be wise to call him back—the ‘wife’ might answer. So, I’ll bake chicken and relax. Besides I’m starving. It’s already seven-thirty.

  As I’m taking the chicken out of the oven, the phone rings. “Hi! darlin’.” Anxious, grumpy voice, “Where were you?”

  “At aerobics, grumpy because I thought you were going to go to sleep. I felt comfort knowing my baby’s home asleep, so I went to work out.”

  “Well, I did sleep for a bit, then woke up dying to see you. I invited you to dinner. Did you get my message?”

  “Yes, but I couldn’t exactly call you back to say, I’m home now, so come on over, could I?” Sarcastic, “The wife might answer, correct? I just finished baking chicken and am starving after working out so hard.”

  Befuddled, “Well no, guess you couldn’t call me back.”

  “So, where’d you go to eat?”

  “I didn’t go to eat. I wanted to take you to get something to eat. Thought you’d like that.”

  “I would have, but where’s your wife? How’s it you can get away on a Friday n
ight after being gone all week?”

  “She went to a dinner party.”

  “Without you—then where are your kids?”

  “With Helen their sitter, and of course without me. Natalie, we don’t do things together anymore except with the kids.”

  “Okay, but where are you now? Sounds as if you’re in the car.”

  “On my way to the Highland Park football game. Would you like to get something to eat, or for me to come over to see you?”

  I ponder, um, so he wants to come see me after a fight with his wife. This feels awful. “No, I’m eating chicken.”

  He raises his voice in frustration, “You don’t want to see me?”

  “I do want to see you, but I wasn’t expecting to, after what you told me about this weekend and...” as I think—this feels absolutely awful that he’s calling at the last minute because his wife’s out for the evening. I don’t want this feeling.

  He asks, “And what?”

  I continue, “Okay then, would you like to come over and have some chicken?”

  He teases, “I don’t know—what kind is it?”

  I think to myself, what a jerk, then laugh and answer. “Baked chicken with a baked potato.”

  “No thanks, I’ll just go onto the game.”

  Sarcastically, “Oh so, it’s not the right kind of chicken?” I laugh to diffuse the tension. “I do want to see you. I thought you were going to sleep so I went to work out. What was I to do, wait around for you to call? Now, I’m totally pitted out and you always see me looking awful. I want to look pretty for you.”

  “What do you have on?”

  “Oversize tee shirt and socks.”

  Teasing, “Will you stay that way if I come over?”

  “Doubt it. The tee shirt’s dirty.”

  His reply, “Oh, okay then, I’ll just go on to the football game.”

  I feel total panic because I’ve been dying to see this man. Now I tell him no—concerning coming over. What’s going on with me? I want to do things right. I so desperately want to see him, but not like this—not behind his wife’s back. Not on the spur of the moment after he’s been fighting with her. I want him to come to me free, clear and ready. I don’t want lies and cover-ups. I want him to call and ask me out on a real date.

  I state, “Boyd when I was driving home from aerobics, the wind was blowing leaves all around. I love Fall.” I begin to say. Glad we’ll be together this Fall, but stop, because I don’t want to make him feel guiltier then he already does and I doubt we’ll spend Fall together this year anyway. This situation is torture.

  Boyd says, “I love Fall too. It’s my favorite time of the year.”

  I reflect, of course you do because we have so many similarities then I say. “My favorite also. Boyd do you really love me?” As quickly, as this pops out, I stressfully regret asking it. Why’d I ask him that?

  “No Natalie let’s see, it’s eight-thirteen. I loved you at eight-twelve, but now at eight-thirteen and I don’t. What do you think, baby? Yes I love you.”

  “Feeling a bit insecure, I guess”. I sign morosely, “I guess, since you’re married and all. Are you certain you’re getting a divorce?”

  “You keep asking me that and I keep saying, yes. If you’re asking me about us—will I ever divorce you? The answer is no. Is that what you want to hear? No, I’ll never divorce you Natalie, but yes, I am getting a divorce now.”

  I continue, “I feel insecure about the whole situation because I’ve never been involved or in love with a married man.”

  He asks worriedly, “Natalie, are we falling apart here? We’re falling apart. First, you won’t let me talk to you about what’s bothering me, now you don’t want me to come over.” questions loudly, “We’re falling apart, aren’t we?”

  “Boyd, we’re not falling apart. Don’t say this to me now. Don’t you dare say things like that—my heart just went up into my throat. I have a book to research and write. Don’t you dare upset me this way, I love you!”

  He states, “It hurt me when you said you didn’t want me to come over. I’ve been going crazy thinking about seeing you and was so looking forward to being with you this evening.”

  “How could I have known that we could go out this evening? Everything is based on what your wife does or doesn’t do. So now, you’re punishing me? You’re punishing me by saying these things about us falling apart! I don’t want to hurt you. I am just trying to do things right. I am trying to think things through and be smart, to do things right. You’re married, remember? I didn’t think we were going to be together this weekend so I was keeping busy.”

  He replies, “Yeah maybe, I am punishing you. So I’m going onto the football game. I’ll call you on the way home.”

  I answer, “Okay, I’m going to wash my hair.”

  He asks, “Maybe, I can come over later after the game?”

  I end with, “Have a good time at the game.”

  I finish eating dinner then clean up the kitchen. Geez, it hurt when he said that we were falling apart. This is so difficult. How do we work this out? We must do like in the movie ‘Love Affair’. It’s the only way.

  Out of the shower and just as I’m putting on my nightgown, the phone rings. “Hi darlin’!”

  “Hi, well you sound better. Being outside and to yourself did wonders. Must’ve been what you needed. Was it a good game?” Hooray, the real Boyd’s back, the grumpy guy’s gone.

  He answers, “Yeah, I just needed to get out for awhile and the game was okay.”

  I ask, “Where are you?”

  “Headed out of the parking lot” teasing, “Can I come see you now? What do you have on?”

  “Just out of the shower, wearing a pink nightgown with a towel wrapped around my head.” He asks what I have on all the time—like we’re in high school.

  “Pink nightie sounds good, but the towel around the head—sounds, blah. Guess, I shouldn’t come over, huh? The nightie might be too tempting. It’d be too dangerous and I’m not going to fuck you, no way, not going to do it.”

  I laugh as I flirtatiously taunt. “I can’t believe you said that, but come on over, Captain.”

  “No, no, I’m not going to make love to you, until I can spend hours with you.”

  I continue teasing, “Oh, come on over anyway. It’ll be okay.”

  “No, no, not going to do it.”

  “Boyd, I do hope we can see each other sometime tomorrow.” Why am I saying this because we can’t keep seeing each other? This is all too crazy.

  “Me too baby, but we’ll just have to wait and see. There might be too much going on with the kids to get away. I’ll call you.”

  “Boyd, we’re really similar to that movie, ‘Love Affair’, you must see it.”

  “Okay, I will. We’ll watch it together sometime. You know, it might be better if we didn’t see each other and I didn’t call you until April.” with determination he states emphatically. “Okay, that’s decided. I’m not calling you anymore. This is our last call until April.”

  My heart sinks. “You couldn’t go that long without calling me.”

  “Oh, yes, I could!”

  “No, you couldn’t!”

  He laughs, “Could too—could too! I can, can, too!”

  “Could not, Boyd, you call me every day.” I snap.

  “Well, that’s true!”

  I state, “All this is giving me a headache.”

  “Well take two ‘Boyd’s then call me in the morning.”

  “How nauseating—did you really say that?”

  He responds, “Turning into my driveway now—got to go in. Call you tomorrow and I love you, baby.”

  “Love you, too.”

  While drying my hair, I ponder. He doesn’t look like a ‘Boyd’ He looks more like an ‘Ash’ so that’s what I’ll call him—because it’s a more romantic name and suits him better. Yes, ‘Captain Ash’ that’s it. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow.

  Just as I’m falling to sleep, the ph
one rings and it’s Richard.

  “Natalie, I got your messages. What’s up? You said you wanted to ask my opinion about something.”

  I share all that’s occurred and how the feelings and energy between us remind me of how he and I were. I’m full of fear that it’ll end up the same way, with our love being lost because of some stupid reason or decision. After listening intently, Richard responds. “Sounds great to me Natalie, but tell the guy to jump now. Tell him to take both your hands and make a grand leap into the future. Don’t miss out on this rare feeling. As well you know, feelings like you’re having don’t come along often—if ever. Real love, those magic feelings are so special. So, Natalie, you and this pilot fellow take advantage of it. Don’t let him miss out like I did. Go for it and now. This is the only advice I have and I want you to be happy. Let me know what happens. Call me or I’ll call you and good luck and that pilot is one very, very lucky guy. He’s won the heart of the most amazing woman!”

  Off the phone, I feel less confused, or do I feel more so? I had thought we should do like in the movie ‘Love Affair’ but perhaps, like Richard said, we should just go for it and right now. Who cares about doing things right? I’ve played by the rules all my life and it’s gotten me nowhere.

  I fall asleep contemplating. I want to be with him and he wants to be with me. People fall in love all the time before they’re out of their marriages and it doesn’t stop them from being together. Love is love and I do love this man. Why should we wait? It might be stupid to wait. Why do I always have to do things so right?

  Next day, I’m tortured knowing Boyd’s in town and we’re not together. I wonder what he’s doing. I picture him being with his kids.

  I talk to Maggie and do things around the house to keep my mind off Boyd. I call my ex-stepdaughter’s grandmother because I’d been thinking about her a lot before going to California. I am shocked when her husband tells me she died of lung cancer a few months ago.

  I state, “I wish that I’d gotten to see her one last time.”

  He responds, “She really did love you, Natalie. She thought of you like a daughter. She didn’t want anyone to know that she had cancer because she was embarrassed. Having cancer meant a kind of failure and disgrace to her. That’s why she didn’t let anyone know how ill she really was.”