Discovery

by Radclyffe

  “Honey,” my wife, Grace, said, “the baby is asleep.”

  “Thank God,” I replied without looking up from the stack of papers on my desk. “I have really got to get this report done for work tomorrow.”

  “Kale,” she said, placing special emphasis on my name, “the baby is asleep…fast asleep…in her own bed…all the way down the hall.”

  This time I looked up. Grace was standing in the doorway of my home office wearing one of my old T-shirts, a pair of threadbare sweatpants, and some well-worn blue slippers. Her sandy blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail with several loose strands tucked behind her ear. It wasn’t until my eyes met hers that I realized she was giving me that look. The one that says all systems are go. The look I hadn’t seen since our daughter, Rory, was born over two months ago. The look that used to send me running for the bedroom removing my clothes in the process. I froze.

  It’s not that I didn’t know this was coming, mind you. The doctor had given us the green light two weeks ago, so I knew it was only a matter of time before we reached this point again. Still, I had not expected it to happen like this. Not on a Tuesday night when we were both exhausted. Not when neither of us had had a spare moment to shower in at least forty-eight hours. Not when she had a large spot of dried spit-up on the front of her shirt. Not when I was on a major deadline for work. I had envisioned wine and candlelight, perhaps some soft music, or at least both of us having bathed recently. This wasn’t how I pictured it at all, but what was a woman supposed to do? She was giving me that look.

  I stood shakily and crossed the room, taking Grace in my arms and pulling her close. I wondered briefly if making love was like riding a bike. It wasn’t something you could forget how to do, was it? Then again, maybe it was like a foreign language and if you didn’t use it regularly you’d lose your ability. I had a brief moment of panic, realizing I barely remembered anything from my high school Spanish class. Then Grace kissed me, one of those deep, searing kisses that had always made my toes curl. Now this I remembered just fine.

  I kissed her back, allowing myself to enjoy the feel of her tongue as it wrapped around mine. I placed my hands on her hips and worked my fingers up under her shirt. As I brushed against her skin, I heard her moan softly into my mouth. She leaned into me, her breasts pressing against mine as the kiss deepened. I moved my mouth down along her jawline, then nibbled on her earlobe. Tilting back her head, she gave me access to the soft curve of her neck. I ran my tongue along the delicate skin, licking and biting my way to her shoulder and across her collarbone. Grace’s chest rose and fell more rapidly as her breathing quickened. She clutched at my back, holding me tightly to her. It felt so good to feel her responding to my touch again; anything I might have forgotten was certainly coming back to me now.

  Eager for more contact between us, I broke the kiss long enough to strip off my shirt. Then I reached up to do the same to hers. We resumed the kiss, this time with more flesh exposed to be touched and stroked. Her breasts were larger now than they had been before, a pleasant side effect of the pregnancy, but I also knew they were tender, so I caressed them softly through the fabric of her nursing bra. At the same time I began walking us backward to our bedroom. I knew that if I didn’t get there soon, I would end up taking her on the floor. Halfway down the hall I had my hands in the waistband of her sweatpants, pushing them down over her hips as we went. I wanted her so badly now I could hardly stand it.

  By the time we entered our room, Grace had tugged my pants to the ground, and I stepped out of them before we both tumbled onto the bed. I positioned myself above her, supporting my weight on one elbow. I buried my face in her neck and ran my hand up the inside of her leg. She felt so good, so familiar. We had been so preoccupied with the baby in the past two months that I had almost forgotten how much I missed this. Almost. Part of me worried that I was moving too fast, that I needed to stop and savor the moment, but then Grace arched her hips, urging me to take her. My fingers were inches away from the apex of her thighs, so close I could feel how hot she was for me when a shrill cry came screeching through the baby monitor on the bedside table.

  I have to give her credit—even at two months old my daughter has impeccable comedic timing. The kid is already a real show-stopper. Hearing her shriek was like having a bucket of ice water dumped over our naked bodies. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill, slow-to-wake-up fussiness. This was the full-throttle scream of a very unhappy infant. Grace and I both jumped out of bed and headed for the nursery, picking up our clothes as we went. When we entered the room it was immediately apparent what the problem was: we had an overflowing diaper on our hands. The kind that fills the little footie pajamas and requires the mommies to bypass the changing table altogether and head straight for the bathtub. The kind that ensures there will be as much crying during the cleanup as there was while making the mess in the first place. If the baby simply waking up wasn’t enough to kill the mood, this certainly managed to do the trick.

  By the time it was all said and done, Grace and I were both beat and Rory was wide awake. It was going to be another sleepless night, and not the kind I had been hoping for.

  *

  The next morning I awoke, aroused. After finally going to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, Rory was up again three hours later to eat, then up for good at 6:00 a.m. During the few hours of fitful sleep, I had dreams of making love to Grace. I could still feel her skin under my fingertips and taste her lips on mine. Up until this point I had hardly thought about the sex I wasn’t having; too many other things had been taking their toll on my mind and body. But now that I had been given an erotic reminder of what I was missing, I could think of little else. I wanted our sex life back.

  Since Grace was breastfeeding and up at all hours of the night, I handled things like early morning diaper changes and playtime so she could get a few extra hours of sleep. I greatly enjoyed my one-on-one time with Rory. Despite her horrible sleeping patterns and diaper-exploding abilities, she was a joy to have around. She was a happy baby. Usually, we spent our time together reading books, singing songs, and bouncing around making silly faces in every mirror in the house. That is to say, I did those things while Rory cooed in approval. We spent most mornings bonding and enjoying each other’s company. Today, though, we were on a more specific mission—enable romance.

  I knew I had been caught off guard the night before. I wasn’t prepared when the right time came along, and I knew it. I let my surprise and my libido get the best of me, and I had ended up rushing into things. Grace deserved better than that, and for that matter, so did I. It had been so long since we’d made love. Our welcome-back affair should be memorable, not some quick grope-fest in the middle of the hallway. As frustrating as it was to have been interrupted by Rory, I convinced myself she had done me a favor. Now that I knew Grace was ready, I no longer had to worry about pressuring her. Now I had time to plan something special. Now I was going to take charge and bring back the romance.

  I put Rory into her baby carrier, which allowed me to move, hands free, around the house. We started off by making our way to the kitchen, where we got some steaks out to thaw. Then we made a red wine marinade to pour over them. Next, we mixed up a salad and chopped up some potatoes to roast. I would be playing Chef Kale when I got home from work, and I wanted everything to be done to perfection. Having dinner mostly prepared ahead of time would save Grave the trouble of having to do it herself and let me put a nice meal on the table quickly, which was key given the fact that Rory didn’t appreciate being put down for too long. I wanted things to go as smoothly as possible, and with a baby in the house that meant a lot of extra planning on my part. Romance would no longer be as effortless as it had been in the past. In fact, nothing was as simple as it had been before having a baby, but that was to be expected. I told myself that just because things took more time and effort didn’t mean they couldn’t be done.

  With dinner almost ready before we’d even had breakfast, Rory and I headed ba
ck upstairs for a bath. Normally bathtime occurs right before bed, but I hoped to be occupied in another way right before bed, so I thought I would go ahead and kill two birds with one stone. Rory and I were both in need of a good scrub-down, so I filled the tub to a suitable depth for the both of us, and we got in together. “This is the way we wash our hair, wash our hair, wash our hair,” I sang as I soaped up her barely fuzzy head and then my own short dark curls. Rinsing us both was quite a challenge, though, as I had to hold on to Rory while rinsing myself, and few things are more slippery than a wet baby. Thankfully, I didn’t have to maneuver us both out of the tub simultaneously. Just as I had begun to contemplate the logistics of such a tricky move, Grace came to the rescue.

  “What a nice surprise!” she said, pushing back the shower curtain.

  “Good morning, Mommy G,” I said, waving Rory’s hand while the baby cooed at the sight of her mother.

  “Good morning, my clean girls.” Grace grabbed Rory’s hooded towel off the rack and scooped her up out of my arms.

  I stood up and began to towel myself off, but not before I saw Grace smile suggestively at the sight of my body. I don’t delude myself with visions of grandeur. I’m not stunning, nor am I as fit as I would like to be, but I take care of my body. Before Rory came along I got enough exercise to stay relatively trim. While I hadn’t been to the gym or played racquetball in months, I hadn’t lost too much of my muscle tone. Normally I don’t give a lot of thought to my own looks, but it did feel good to have my body noticed once again.

  Grace took Rory while I got dressed, taking care to put on a shirt Grace had bought me for our sixth anniversary the year before. She had mentioned several times that she liked how the color brought out the blue in my eyes. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but today was going to be all about setting the mood, and the small touches mattered. I was rewarded for my attention to detail when Grace kissed me good-bye for work. Instead of her normal quick peck on the lips, she allowed her lips to linger on mine. I opened my mouth to the gentle probing of her tongue, and if it hadn’t been for Rory wiggling between us, I might not have had the strength to force myself away. Once again, my daughter served as a reminder that I needed to pace myself.

  *

  I got home from work to find my beautiful wife and darling little girl waiting at the door for me. The only problem was that Grace looked exhausted and Rory was fussing. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but I would have to work with it.

  “How’s my girls?” I asked, fearing that I already knew the answer.

  “Exhausted and cranky,” Grace replied with a weak smile as she handed Rory to me. “And how was your day, dear?”

  “Obviously better than yours.” I bounced the baby in the crook of my arm, which quieted her cries to a mild whimper. “Has she been like this all day long?”

  Grace flopped onto the couch. “Not if I hold her and keep moving, but God forbid I try to put her down or sit down myself.”

  “Well, you can sit down now,” I said, kissing her on the cheek. “Mommy K is reporting for duty.”

  “Thank you.” Grace leaned back and closed her eyes.

  I took Rory into the kitchen, and we set about making dinner. I hadn’t planned on playing chef and mom at the same time, but if that’s what the situation called for, I would just have to find a way to do it. I was tired after a day at the office, but Grace looked dead on her feet. I knew my options were either to take care of both dinner and the baby or say good-bye to any chance of Grace staying awake long enough for me to make love to her tonight. So the potatoes went into the oven, Rory went into her stroller, and the steaks went onto the grill. I actually came up with a pretty good system. I walked Rory up and down the driveway, stopping at the grill every now and then to flip the steaks. The constant movement took its toll on my feet, but more importantly it wore out Rory, who finally dozed off just as the meat was medium well.

  I wheeled the stroller back into the house, balancing a plate of steaks on my arm, waiter style. I set the table in a flash and was just lighting the candles when Grace came into the room.

  “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” she asked, placing a kiss on my cheek.

  “It never hurts to hear it again,” I replied, pulling out her chair.

  “I love you,” she repeated.

  Everything was in place for a romantic dinner that would naturally lead to romance after dinner. It looked like things were going to be okay after all.

  “So tell me about your day,” I said, just before I took my first bite of steak.

  “Well, Rory and I went to the grocery store.”

  “And how did that go?” I knew that even the most mundane errand could become a wild adventure when my daughter was involved.

  “Well, overall it was good, but—” My wife was cut short by Rory’s cry. Grace immediately stood up to go get her.

  “No, you sit and eat. I’ll take her.”

  “You’ve had her since you got home.”

  “And you had her all day before that.” I picked up the baby, who quieted only slightly. I tried not to let my disappointment show. My hopes for a romantic dinner were disappearing quickly.

  “What were you saying about the store?” I asked over the noise of Rory’s fussing.

  “Just that some old lady came up to me and asked if I wanted her to hold the baby while I shopped.” Grace chuckled and shook her head at the memory.

  “A complete stranger?” I bounced from side to side in an attempt to soothe the baby.

  “Yeah, never seen her before in my life.”

  “That’s creepy.”

  “Oh, it was sweet,” Grace said, looking up at me and laughing. “Honey, I should take her.”

  “Why? I’ve got it under control.” Rory had calmed down considerably, and I wanted desperately to salvage our evening. I was determined that we would have a nice dinner even if we didn’t actually get to have it together.

  “I know you’re doing a great job, but you aren’t giving her what she needs right now.”

  “What do you mean? She’s settling down,” I asserted as if my parenting skills were in question.

  Grace gave me a sweet smile. “Sweetheart, she’s sucking on your shirt.”

  I looked down and sure enough, Rory was making a valiant attempt to nurse through the shirt I had taken special care in picking out that morning. There was a large spot of baby drool now coating the area around my right breast.

  “Damn,” I cursed under my breath and handed the baby over to Grace, who was already unbuttoning her shirt for Rory. It looked like the rest of our meal would be spent feeding the baby. So much for our romantic dinner.

  *

  Later that evening I readied myself for one last-ditch attempt at setting the right mood. While Grace was downstairs playing with Rory, I filled the bath with warm water and some lavender soap and then lit some candles around the edge of the tub. Bubble baths were a favorite luxury of Grace’s, and she hadn’t had one since giving birth, first because they were off-limits while she was healing, then later because she simply hadn’t had time. If there was anything that would relax my wife and leave her feeling sensual, this was it.

  Grace looked happy enough to cry when I took Rory from her arms and shooed her off to the bath. Then to make sure she had all the time and privacy she needed, Rory and I went to the nursery to get ready for bed. After only a few minutes of rocking, Rory went right to sleep. After the events of the last twenty-four hours, though, I couldn’t help but be suspicious. The bedtime routine had gone entirely too easy, so it was with great trepidation that I laid her in her crib. Then I held my breath and said a little prayer that she remained asleep. A gift from heaven, she didn’t even bat an eyelid when I slowly moved my hands out from under her. I tiptoed out of the room and shut the nursery door gently behind me.

  I moved quickly into our bedroom and lit candles throughout the room. I started the CD player and put in a mix that I had made of romantic love songs. There’s no
thing like a little mood music to set the right tone. Then I turned down the covers on our queen-sized bed. Surveying the room, I checked each detail to make sure I hadn’t overlooked anything. This was my last chance to make something romantic out of the day, and I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to make it special. Once everything was set just the way I wanted it, I went back to the bathroom to see Grace.

  She was still soaking in the tub, her head resting on the rim, her eyes closed and only the swell of her breasts visible above the soapy bubbles. She was so beautiful she took my breath away. She looked up when she heard me enter the room. “Where’s Rory?”

  “Fast asleep,” I said, feeling a grin spread across my face.

  “Well, don’t you sound pleased with yourself.” Grace returned my smile. “It’s almost like you had something planned.”

  I shrugged, knowing that Grace could see right through me. “Me? Not at all. I’ve got nothing going on tonight.”

  “Well, I could think of some things I’d like to do while I’ve got you all to myself.” Grace stood up, and I stared in awe as the suds and water ran down her body. Swallowing hard, I handed her a towel then watched as she slowly dried her body. She was taking her time on purpose, just to tease me, and it was working. She had always had me in the palm of her hand—we both knew it, and I was thrilled that she was exercising her power over me once again.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” I finally blurted out.

  “I’ve missed you looking at me like that.” She placed a kiss on my lips. “I was beginning to worry that you weren’t attracted to me anymore.”

  I pushed back and looked her in the eye, wondering for a second if she was still teasing me. “How could you ever think that?”

  “I just had a baby, my breasts are saggy, I lost my waistline, I still have an episiotomy scar, and speaking of scars, with the things you saw in that delivery room, well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were scarred for life.”