“Oh, hold it. It takes me like a second to check a text,” I told her. I’m not good at baby talk.
I didn’t recognize the number attached to the message, but my stomach fluttered when I read it:
Hi, Sophie, this is Gena. I just heard the news. I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. Would you want to get together for lunch? To catch up?
Would I like to see Gena, again? Gena, the first woman I’d had sex with? The woman I still fantasized about occasionally? A single text from her, and I was already tingly in my downstairs, a condition that was swiftly remedied when I remembered that a poopy diaper change awaited me. But, yes, I absolutely wanted to see her.
Whether or not I should was the question. Going to lunch with her wasn’t a guarantee that I was going to sleep with her or anything. I couldn’t even infer that it was a suggestion. But I had slept with her in the past, and bringing it up to Neil, now…
I grimaced, but not from the diaper change. Neil and I hadn’t had sex since the night before… I hated even thinking of it in that context. I fully understood why; unspeakable tragedy, grief, and a major life change didn’t leave a lot of room for intimacy, either emotionally or physically. I didn’t want Neil to think I was going to cheat on him, or that I was going to ask him for permission to have sex with someone else. If I brought up Gena, would he think that was what I had in mind? I didn’t want to hurt him.
If I went to lunch with Gena, no matter how innocent my intentions—and they would be innocent—and I didn’t tell him, our past experience would make me feel like I was running around on him, no matter what. There wasn’t a great way to bring any of this up with him, either.
But I missed being around people. I video conferenced with Deja and our staff a few times a week, but that was all about work. And, yeah, Holli tried to make time for me, but her schedule and mine had reduced us to the occasional phone call. I needed to just get out and see someone. Someone who hadn’t seen me broken by all of this, so I could pretend I was myself for two minutes.
In the kitchen, we went through our evening ritual of feeding Olivia, putting her to sleep, trying to get something to eat for ourselves, and finally falling into bed, exhausted. All the while, I tried think of a way to broach the subject of the text with Neil.
“My back hurts a little more every day,” he complained as he kicked off his boxers and climbed under the covers. I pulled a soft cotton tank top over my head and put a folded-up pair of yoga pants on the nightstand. I didn’t sleep naked, anymore. It was too much of a hassle to get up and get dressed to go check on Olivia, and I liked to take turns so Neil got enough rest, too. That, and it was just a special kind of torture to snuggle up naked with your husband when your sex drive was fine and his wasn’t. I understood exactly why that was and could accept it, but that didn’t mean I didn’t take precautions to guard my own feelings.
“Hey,” I began tentatively, slipping in beside him. “I got a text tonight.”
“Oh? Anything interesting?” he asked through a yawn.
“It was Gena, actually.” I felt like her name hung in the air a long time, but I may have just been projecting awkwardness onto the moment.
“We haven’t heard from her since the divorce,” he said with a frown. “I thought perhaps she lost us in the custody agreement.”
I snorted. “Yeah, no, I don’t think that was it. Maybe she felt uncomfortable because you and Ian are friends. She actually got in touch to express her condolences and say if there’s—”
“Anything she can do, let her know,” Neil finished with me in unison. It was one of the top five things people had been saying to us, over and over. We’d made expressions of sympathy into a grim little game to amuse ourselves.
“Right. That, exactly.”
“That is thoughtful of her,” he said, going quiet.
Even though I felt like a total selfish asshole for mentioning it, I said, “She wanted to get together for lunch. Just to catch up.”
He let out a long breath. “Oh, Sophie. I’m not sure if I’m ready to socialize. It’s one thing for Rudy to come over—”
“No, no, I totally understand. When Rudy comes over, it’s not really socializing. It’s more like having a visit from family.” I needed a lot of that, myself. Mom didn’t want to intrude while we were still adjusting, but I made plenty of late night trips out to the guesthouse to cry on her shoulder. “But I was just thinking, you know. Maybe one day, when I’m in the city, I might do the lunch thing.”
“Oh,” Neil said, his eyebrows lifting, as though it had never occurred to him that I would go on my own.
“Unless it makes you uncomfortable,” I hurried to add. “I know that, with our history, it might seem like something could happen, but really, I think she just wants to meet up and have a chat to reconnect.”
“Have I ever given you the impression that I don’t trust you?” He reached behind his head to fluff his pillows. Okay, I was definitely hard up for sex if even his armpit hair was turning me on.
“No, but I just thought you might have thought…” Oh, just say it. You’re on the way there, anyhow. “Because we haven’t had sex in a long time.”
He went very still. It was something I thought of as his frightened-lizard-freeze. He did it when he didn’t want to have a conversation but couldn’t think of a way to get out of it. “Sophie… My daughter just died.”
That was exactly the direction I hadn’t wanted to take. I didn’t want to shame him. I just needed some acknowledgement of what wasn’t happening between us. “I’m not pointing that out to guilt you or anything. I just worried that you had noticed, and that you would think I was angling to have sex with someone else. And I’m not. I just really need to see some grown up friends.”
He relaxed a little at that. “Ah. Well, I had noticed. I just didn’t know how to explain to you…”
“You just don’t have any sex drive, right now?” Did that sound bitter? God, I was horrible. “We’re going through some major stuff. You, especially. But it was such a big part of our relationship that I kind of got worried about you. You don’t even do little double entendres, anymore. A perfect opportunity for a ‘that’s what she said’ came up the other night when Rudy was here, and you didn’t take it.”
“Please don’t think that I don’t care about your needs. I do. You’re my submissive. I know what you need from me, and that I’m responsible for meeting those needs. But, at the moment…I’m sorry, but I simply can’t.” He sounded frustrated and defeated.
“You’re not responsible for meeting my sexual needs. I’m not…” I searched for the right word. “I’m not entitled to you. You’re going through probably the worst thing that is ever going to happen in your entire life—”
He held up his hand. “Please, don’t tempt fate. I couldn’t stand to—” He broke off and covered his eyes with one hand. The gesture might have been because he was tired, but it was more likely that he was crying.
“No, listen, this isn’t a jinxing you thing. I’m trying to say that I know you’re in unimaginable pain. I don’t hold it against you if you’re unable to check out of your mind to fuck me.” I sighed. “I’m not doing this right. All I want to do is have lunch with an acquaintance without you being uncomfortable about it.”
“I’m not uncomfortable with it,” he said, wiping his eyes. He reached for a kleenex on the bedside table. “I’m ashamed that you felt you had to ask me permission to have lunch with a friend. Do you really view me as that broken?”
“Not broken,” I stated emphatically. I’d thought Emma’s death would be the thing that actually did break him, but so far, that hadn’t been the case. “I don’t think anything could ever break you.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence. But that remains to be seen.” He managed a sad smile. “I love you. Please don’t think that’s changed, even if I’m not expressing it as often lately. You and Olivia are the only… Without you, I couldn’t have made it past th
at first night.”
A twinge of guilt nagged at me. That first night, I’d enabled his alcoholism as a coping mechanism. As far as I was aware, he wasn’t still drinking. We didn’t have anything in the house that I knew of, but he’d hidden bottles in the past. I made a mental note to ask Julia to keep an eye out while she cleaned. She knew the nooks and crannies of this house better than I did.
“I know you love me,” I reassured him. “I don’t think that’s going to change.”
“I feel the same way. That’s why I don’t mind if you go to see Gena,” he reiterated. “And I think it would be good for you. Even if it did…lead to something.”
“Lead to something?” Now, it was my turn to be incredulous. “I think it would be pretty presumptuous to walk into this expecting an invite for sex.”
“You’re the one who brought it up,” he reminded me.
“Only because I was worried you’d think I was having a secret hook up. I don’t actually think it will come up.”
“Oh, of course. You’re just reconnecting because you’re such good friends and you know each other so well,” he teased.
It was good to be teased, because he didn’t do it as much lately. I leaned over and kissed his forehead and told him, “Shut up, you perv.”
Neil went out just like the lights. We used to cuddle to sleep—or at least hook our ankles together—but these days, I just got a kiss goodnight before he rolled onto his side, turning his back on me.
After a half hour, I accepted the fact that I couldn’t sleep. I texted Neil’s phone with my intended whereabouts, slipped on my yoga pants, and messaged Mom.
Can I come down or do you have a hot date?
She replied almost immediately: My hot date is sleeping. Why aren’t you?
Why aren’t you? I shot back.
When she replied again, it just said, Come down.
Walking to the guesthouse was out of the question in the February cold. I bundled up in my coat and went to the garage. Neil’s collection of exotic supercars were housed in a big hangar elsewhere on the property, but our day-to-day vehicles—the ones I actually knew how to drive—were parked at the house. I grabbed the keys to my car, a Jaguar Neil specified as an “F-type”, though he could have just been cursing creatively. He’d bought it for me for my birthday, though he’d tried to talk me into something more flashy and powerful. I’d picked it entirely on looks, which drove Neil nuts.
I pulled down the driveway, not bothering to turn the heat on, because the engine wouldn’t even warm up in the minute it took to get where I was going. The guesthouse was an adorable two-story that matched the main house in style. Back home in Calumet, homes like it were few and far between, and would have cost in the upper six figures there. With three bedrooms and two-and-a-half baths, it seemed like more of a single-family residence than a place for the occasional visitor. Even though it was close to us, pine trees surrounded it, giving Mom some privacy and isolation. And it looked more like where we used to live.
Since she was expecting me, I didn’t ring the bell. I toed off my wet shoes the moment I got through the door and slipped off my coat. “I’m here,” I said, at normal volume, since she’d said Tony was sleeping.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” Mom called from the kitchen. “Tony’s at his place.”
Mom had been dating our chauffeur for… Well, I’m not sure how long it had been going on. She’d come to stay with us “for a few weeks” after our trailer—my childhood home—had burned down back in Michigan. Somewhere between her arrival and our invitation to stay indefinitely, she and Tony had hooked up. I wasn’t sure we would have ever found out if I hadn’t caught them.
As much as I liked having an open, sharing relationship with my mother, I could have lived without sharing that particular experience.
Then, I remembered how I’d met Emma, immediately after she’d accidentally overheard me shouting, “Fuck me harder!” to her father during some loud morning sex, and sudden sadness stabbed at me. Now, nobody was in on the dual-mortification in-joke with me.
“Still doing the we-don’t-actually-live-within-walking-distance-so-why-rush-to-move-in-together thing, huh?” I hung up my coat on the pegs beside the door.
“It’s the only way we can pretend we’re a normal dating couple,” Mom said as I entered the kitchen. She liked to sit at the counter to watch television on the small set in there, for some reason. Maybe it reminded her of home.
“Well, at least someone gets to be a normal couple around here.” I opened the fridge and snagged one of Mom’s peach wine coolers.
“It helps that Tony hasn’t recently been through the worst tragedy of his life,” Mom reminded me, but in a sympathetic tone. “How’s Neil doing?”
“He’s…Neil.” I shrugged. “I can’t ever tell with him. I’m his wife, and I can’t tell.”
Mom nodded. “He’s a lot more reserved than the people you’re used to. Look at our family, and then, you go to college and you make friends with—”
“The most notorious oversharer in the history of the known world.” I laughed and unscrewed the bottle top. “I’m just bitching to you because I can, and you won’t think I’m horrible.”
She put out one arm, and I stepped into her half hug. Just being around my mom made me feel like someone had things under control, even when my life was fully not. Which was weird, because ever since I’d left home, I’d sort of assumed I was the one who had it together, and Mom was the one who was helpless. But the second I was helpless…
“Listen. I have a problem. Of the I-don’t-want-to-think-of-my-daughter-that-way variety.” I paused as the terror crept over her face. “You’re really the only person I’m brave enough to tell this to. Because I know you’ll still love me, and you won’t think I’m a terrible person.”
Her spine straightened, and she set her shoulders like a general going into the war room. “Okay. I am your mother, and I will not judge you or think you are a terrible person.”
“And you won’t act all weird when I talk about sex?” I asked, to make absolutely sure.
She closed her eyes and held up her hand, swearing, “I promise I won’t ‘act all weird’ when you talk about having sex with your old-enough-to-be-your-father husband.”
I sighed, already feeling judged, and sat down on the stool beside her. “So, Neil and I have not had sex since…you know.”
“Oh.” Mom frowned. “Well…it hasn’t been that long, honey. Going without sex for a few weeks feels like a long time, I’m sure, but it’s a drop in the bucket compared to how long Neil’s going to grieve.”
“That’s why I feel like an asshole just saying that out loud. I mean, he’s going through this pain, and here I am, just worrying about the last time I got laid.” A part of me couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with my mother. Sex stuff used to be totally of the table. So much so that she’d once told me to direct any sex questions to her sister, because Mom wanted to believe that I would die a virgin. “I just feel so selfish for even thinking about it.”
“You’re not selfish for thinking about it. If you were pressuring Neil or giving him ultimatums, that would be selfish.”
“That’s what I figured, but I can’t shake the guilt. Emma was his entire world, but I’m like, wah, my sex life.” Saying it out loud, I started to get the feeling that maybe I was being too hard on myself. Maybe I wanted to hate myself, rather than hate my circumstances. After all, I couldn’t be mad at Emma and Michael for dying. I couldn’t be mad at Neil for grieving. And I certainly couldn’t be mad at Olivia for needing us.
“Emma wasn’t his entire life. You’re a part of it, too.” Mom corrected me.
“The part that has sex with him and asks about his day,” I grumbled. “Now that we don’t do one of those things, I don’t feel quite as indispensable as before.”
“Honey, I don’t think you’re being fair to yourself. Neil loves you. Right now, though, he’s not the Neil you married.”
&n
bsp; I took a sip from the wine cooler and thought about the massive implication of her words. “You noticed.”
It disturbed me that she had. That meant it was more than something just I was seeing.
“Of course I did.” Her brows drew together in a sympathetic look that wasn’t comforting, so much as pitying. “I honestly think you and Olivia are why he’s still going. Just because he’s not interested in…being physically intimate with you, doesn’t mean he doesn’t need you.”
I had to concede that she was right. “I think I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“You have a right to,” Mom asserted. “Something terrible has happened to your family, and it’s changed your life, and it’s unfair. But you’ve been so focused on Neil and his loss that you can’t see yours. He’s never going to be the person he was before, so in a way, you need to mourn that loss, too.”
Damn it. I didn’t want to cry, but here the tears came. I wiped them away. “I don’t feel like I have the right.”
“You have every right to feel whatever you feel,” she said. And she was using Mom voice, so I knew she meant business. “How you feel isn’t an issue. It’s how you act. And you’ve been doing fine. I’m proud of you for how you’ve gotten through this. I truly am.”
“Thanks, Mom. I actually really need to hear that.” But it was time for a subject change. “I am done being sad for tonight. Now, I’m going to finish this wine cooler, and you’re going to tell me what’s been happening with Bey and Blue Ivy.”
God bless Mom’s love of TMZ.
* * * *
I went into the office and worked my ass off all Thursday morning, because it was past time that I get back into the swing of things. Also, I thought it would make me feel less guilty about taking a lunch. It totally did not, but I took the lunch, anyway.
Gena suggested meeting at the office, but since I didn’t know if she knew about Penny and Ian, or that Penny worked for me, I told her I’d meet her at a little bistro just across the bridge in Manhattan. I arrived first and got us a table. I was fiddling with my phone when she walked in.
The Baby (The Boss #5) Page 12