Her eyes glimmer. “You’re still an artist.”
My heart melts. “Thank you.”
“How about you design our website?”
“How can you not own a website? It’s the twenty-first century.”
Bursting into laughter, she presses her breasts against my chest and stares right into my eyes. “My dad is old school, but I can convince him.”
I nibble on her lower lip. “If you say so.”
Emily thrusts her tongue inside my mouth. “I hope you’re not too pricey.”
Pulling her on top of me, I grin. “You can always pay me in kind.”
We kiss, but then she pulls away and sits up. “I wanna learn everything about you.”
“C’mon.” I point to my crotch. “Junior wants you.”
She shakes her head, giving me that naughty laugh that lights up her face. I can’t stop staring at her. One moment, she looks like an angel, so pure and innocent, yet another side of her is a vixen. If I met Emily back then and we were the same age, would I like her? What if she turned out to be like Liv?
A knot formed in my stomach as I remembered the day Liv stopped talking. We used to chat about anything under the sun, but after three failed pregnancies, all I heard was a slammed door, feet dragging, and the tinkering of knives. Liv never looked at me the same way again. So I locked myself in my office, where I didn’t need to see her expression, feel her frustration, or taste her despair. I became a robot going through the motions, and we both allowed work to consume us.
“What do you want to know?”
She takes a puff of the joint then ditches it away. “I dunno. What keeps you awake at night? Do you like chocolate? Why are you so mysterious?”
I sit up and rest my head against the wall. “For starters, I’m boring. The client tells me their concept, and I create the design. I guess it’s pretty much the same with my personal life.” I pause. Shit! I get it now. Liv finds me boring. Although my life ain’t structured like hers, I’m still predictable. Well, guess what, Liv? Today, I learned I’m not going to be predictable anymore.
Emily snaps her fingers. “You were saying something about your personal life.”
“Right.” I rub my chin. “Why don’t we keep it mysterious and learn as we go?”
“Well, aside from you being an incredible kisser, I might have to add I never expected to see you again after the first night. Why’d you return?”
I purse my lips, wanting to enjoy the ride. “How can I resist you?”
She squints and shakes her head. “Next time you come over, I’ll take you to my favorite place. That way we can do something else besides fuck.”
Laughter explodes from my mouth. “Come here, you naughty girl.”
Emily yelps.
Our lips meet, and the next thing I know, we’re both naked underneath the blanket.
Liv is asleep when I get home. My mental note for my next goal is Be prepared for a big change.
11
Day 5
David
Two days before the coma.
I push the comforter aside and jolt as I witness Liv standing in front of me. “Goodness, you scared me.”
“You said you’d leave the hallway light on.” Her stern voice sends a shiver to my spine.
“Sorry, I forgot.”
“Where were you? The cat litter is full, and you didn’t leave water for Wilma.”
I head for the bathroom. She actually trails behind while I piss. “It’s late, can we talk about this in the morning?”
“Why do you keep forgetting to do these things?” she harps.
“Damn it!” I flush the toilet. “Just because I work from home doesn’t mean I need to do everything.”
“We discussed this before.” She follows me to the bedroom. “And why is it that I can cook, clean, and do the laundry while working a ten-hour shift?”
“Because you’re Ms. Superwoman who expects everyone to be like you.”
“Where were you today?” She folds her arms.
Plopping into the bed, I cover my body with the blanket. “I met with a client. We discussed his company logo design.”
“Your clothes smell like smoke. They look filthy.”
I shake my head in disgust. “What am I supposed to do if they smoke? You’re fucking unreasonable.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you.”
“What’s wrong with me? How about you ask yourself that question, Liv? How do you think I feel each time you come home and stare at me like I’m some kind of loser?”
She snaps back, “I never said that.”
“You don’t have to. Your friends think you wear the pants while I just work from home.”
“I’m not obliged to explain to them what you do.”
“Really? Even the farmer’s market vendor knows me as your husband.” I fold my arms. This discussion should end now.
“If you have a problem with what people think about you, work on your self esteem.”
“You’re just so different. Look at how we’ve become, two angry people. We used to have fun, but now all you do is control me.”
“Control you?” She points a finger at me. “How dare you say such a thing? I don’t even bother you.”
“Yes, you do. You tell me to get the cat litter and keep the light on. Is that all I’m worth to you?”
Liv doesn’t say a word as she climbs into bed.
I face the other way. No use arguing with her when all she wants is perfection. Tomorrow, I’m seeing Emily again so she can take me to her favorite place. That should make me feel better.
* * *
Emily greets me as I arrive at the bar. Her hair is still wet, and she smells like fresh linens. I want to have sex with her, but she takes my hand while we explore the streets of San Francisco. Glad I wore a cap today. If I bump into someone I know, hopefully they won’t recognize me.
“Where are you taking me?”
Emily grins, carrying her purse. “You’ll see.”
Moments later, we arrive at a skate park.
She tugs my arm, but I pull away. “No way!” I glance at a skater swerving on the slopes, smooth and steady while he sways down the hill and releases on the curb. “You’re not going to catch me dead on skates. Balancing ain’t my strongest suit.”
“Silly. I didn’t bring you here to skate.” She leads the way to the side of the park. Right in front of me is a vibrant abstract mural. Emily reaches inside her purse and removes three cans of spray paint.
“Wow.” I admire the bright colors then slant my gaze toward Emily. “You did this?”
Her cheeks turn pink. She sprays on the side outlined. “My mother died when I was four years old. Dad took me here every day.” She faces me. “We used to watch people skate for hours without saying a word, but what fascinated me the most…” Tears spill from her cheeks while she continues to work on her art. “A man there painted a mural. I became transfixed in his world.”
At a loss for words, I’m hypnotized in her world, seeing the broken child in her and the woman she transformed into. I want to embrace her, but let her maintain what she’s doing.
She wipes the tears off her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I hope I’m not boring you.”
“No.” I rub her back. “I like watching you paint.”
A smile spreads on her lips. She hands me a green spray paint. “You try it.”
“You sure?” I remove the cap.
“Yeah.” She points to a spot. “It’s easy. You can do it.”
As I spray the concave spots, my body begins to relax and I get lost in the art.
She peers at my work. “I told you you can do it.”
I nudge her side. “And you call me the artist. What is this painting?” I study the shapes trying to figure out what it is.
“My creative expression.” She shrugs. “I like painting abstracts because life doesn’t always have to make sense.”
I take a deep breath. She’s right. Life doesn’t have t
o make sense. I came to the bar on my birthday looking to get some attention my wife failed to provide me and I found Emily.
She nuzzles her nose against my cheek. We both spray the areas she outlined. “Thank you for coming with me. It meant a lot to me.”
I squeeze her hand. Then we stride back to her place. “I enjoyed so much today.”
“Maybe you can take me to your favorite place next time.”
What is my favorite place? I can’t really think. If I asked Liv, it would be something fancy. I had promised to take her to the Eiffel Tower in Paris, but that never happened. Maybe if she were nicer to me , I would. Everything about Emily spelled simplicity. To a four-year-old kid who lost her mother, the skate park was heaven. She reminded me of the way Liv once was.
I stop walking and place my hands on her cheeks. “I don’t know where my favorite place is, whether it’s at the rooftop of your bar or walking the streets of San Francisco and I know it’s only been a few days, but I think I’m falling in love with you, Emily.”
Her mouth drops, and her eyes get misty. “Oh, David, I never thought a man like you would want to be with someone like me. I love you too.”
We kiss. Deep in my heart, I’m so happy for the first time in a long while and it’s all because of Emily. My next goal is to keep matters simple.
12
Day 6
David
One day before the coma.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Pacing around my office like a caged animal doesn’t help. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t work, and I shaved my chin three times. Call me stupid, but I’m in love. Call it quick, but I know when something is real.
“David,” Liv calls out from the bedroom.
I can’t face her and told her earlier I have a VIP client and need to focus, but she doesn’t get the message.
She pops in. “David, I can’t find my facial scrub. Did you see it anywhere?”
Fuck. “Don’t you keep it in the bathroom?”
“It’s not there.” She rolls her eyes.
“I can’t concentrate. I’m going to take a walk.” I head for the door, but she leans her body against it.
“What’s the matter with you these days? You seem… different.”
I scowl. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re always distracted and can’t look at me straight in the eye.”
“Please don’t act like you care.” I fold my arms.
She plants her hands on her hips. “What do you mean I don’t care? Who do you think takes care of this house?”
“I’ve heard that a thousand times. I owe my life to you, Liv.”
She glares at me and walks out.
Sighing, I grab my coat and exit our house for the past six years. It didn’t feel like home. When did Liv change? We used to go on morning runs and weekend hikes, but we kept trying for a child and the pressure built up. Liv had a miscarriage so we worked with fertility doctors, and when that didn’t happen, we gave it all up and stopped nurturing each other. I doubt a baby would save our marriage.
Strolling by our favorite roast beef cafe, I believe the memories are now past behind me. I can’t stop thinking about Emily and want to leave Liv, yet my gut tells me she’ll make it hell for me. She freaks out when I don’t throw away the cat litter, much less me wanting a divorce.
But I can’t prolong this anymore. I need to leave my wife.
* * *
Emily opens the front door ajar. “You miss me already?” She plants a peck on my lips.
The truth is, I want to make this sooner. I close my eyes and drown in her kisses. “Can we go to the park?”
“Now?” She glances at her watch. “It’s late and freezing.”
“I need to talk to you.”
Emily steps outside in her Uggs and a hoodie. “My old man’s inside, and he can be a grouch.” She locks the door and takes my hand before crossing the street.
We enter a cafe and sit by the corner table.
The waiter brings us the menu.
“I’ll just have coffee,” I say.
“Make it two,” she adds.
My hands are clammy, and I’m clueless on how to break it to her.
The waiter brings the coffee.
Emily’s eyes light up. “So…” She adds sugar to her cup and stirs her coffee. “What did you want to tell me?”
I take a big gulp of my drink. Fuck! The coffee’s hot, and my tongue burns. There’s no way I can tell her now. I’m such a coward.
She rubs my leg with her foot, teasing me while she bats her eyelashes.
Taking a deep breath, I gaze into her eyes and can’t find the words to say.
With furrowed eyebrows, she shakes her head. “Are you okay?”
“No, no.” I lean forward and clutch her hands. “I just wanted to say that yesterday was one of the most memorable days of my life. You struck a chord inside me.”
She stares at me.
“You’re quite matured for your age, and each day, I learn something from you.”
Looking around the cafe, she turns back at me and whispers, “What do you say we go to the bathroom and…”
“What?” I turn to the couple in the opposite end of the cafe as they prepare to leave.
“You know.” She winks.
“Here?”
Emily rests her foot on my crotch and straightens her shoulder. “Yes. You never take me to your place so we need to be creative. Follow me in two minutes.”
Before I can say anything, she heads to the restroom. I whistle to the waiter for the bill. He comes right up and gives it to me. Then I rest two folded bills on the table and survey the cafe. Nobody seems to be looking at me, so I march to the ladies’ bathroom.
Already naked, Emily tugs me inside and locks the door. I lift her to the counter and strip down my pants then push inside her while she clasps her legs around my buttocks. Boy, do I love this woman.
She pulls my head against her breasts, and I inhale lavender and citrus. Eyes shut, I imagine what it would be liked to spend my life with Emily.
Moments later, a knock intrudes our rendezvous. Emily bursts into laughter and jumps down.
“Sh!” I cover her mouth.
“We’re closing,” a man says.
“Give me a few,” Emily responds. She zips her pants.
“How the fuck am I going to get out of here?” I whisper.
Her calm stupor amazes me. “Don’t worry about it.”
I let her go ahead and count to thirty before I leave. The waiters give us cold stares before we exit the cafe. Like two little kids, we run and giggle as we cross the street.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks.
“Tomorrow.” I kiss her on the lips, never wanting to say goodbye.
* * *
“That was a long walk,” Liv says when I enter the house.
Glancing at my watch, the one Liv gave me, I remind myself I should no longer wear it. Too many memories which now felt like spoiled broth. I’d been gone for more than two hours.
“Yup.” I hang my jacket on the coat rack. “Need to get my creative juices flowing. Something you won’t understand, given you have a real job and I don’t.”
Without saying a word, Liv retreats to our bedroom while I march to my office and tell myself, Don’t wait till Day Thirty.
Although I never wrote down my goals, I have it all mapped out. I tuck my notebook inside our old love letters pile−no way would she ever read them again—then stride downstairs to the garage where we store our memories. Yep, I’m not waiting thirty days.
13
Day 7
David
The day of the coma.
Nothing is better than having your accountant and lawyer as a good friend. That’s what Mark is to me. He’s a busy man, but he always accommodates me. While I’m waiting outside his office, I tap my shoes on the floor. He’s running late, and I’m scheduled to meet Emily for lunch. I tried calling her cell phone. No answer so I sent
her a text instead. Still no response.
The door swings open, and out comes my buddy, always wearing a suit. Mark exposes a dimple. “Hey, bud. Sorry. Just got off a call with my client. Come in.”
“It’s cool.” I follow him inside and plop into a chair across his desk. Awards and photos are displayed on the wall.
“So, what’s so urgent it couldn’t wait?”
I sigh, dwelling on the crow perched on a tree outside his window. “Not sure where to begin.”
Mark leans back in his chair. “Are you having financial problems? Tax questions?”
“No, nothing like that.” I rub my hands on my face. “Did you encounter marital problems with Yvonne?”
He crosses his legs and purses his lips. “Well, yeah, everybody does.”
I open my mouth, but can’t seem to find a way to spell it out for Mark.
“You’re having an affair.”
“Right.” I heave a sigh. “It’s more than that. She’s twenty-two and―”
“Twenty-two.” He beams, ready to jump from his chair. “Where have you been shopping?”
“Even if I didn’t meet Emily, my marriage was doomed a long time ago.” My gaze lowers to the carpet as I try to find the subtlest way to explain my situation. “I’m physically present, yet emotionally empty.”
“Sorry, bud, I thought you guys were happy.”
“We used to be.”
“And you’re looking for a way out.”
I nod.
“As your tax attorney, I can tell you from a practical point of view that you’re in the losing end with Liv being the breadwinner.”
“I don’t care about the money. I can live in a freaking studio if need be.”
With one eyebrow raised, he shakes his head. “And do you think Ms. Newby will still like you after that?”
“She’s not like that. She’s simple.”
After he rises from his chair, Mark heads to his putting green and picks up a golf club. He positions a golf ball on the tee and swings the club. Hole in one. “Let me tell you about women, David.” He faces me. “The older they get, the bigger the needs. They won’t just settle for average.”
Thirty Days of Red Page 5