“Are you having an affair, Walter?”

Walter slinked out of bed, and later I heard the garage door close.

I pretended to sleep.

And if silence would improve his mood, then I could be still for a few moments.

He had no idea how good I was at hiding my feelings. He probably thought I was happy in our marriage, too.

I wasn’t. But I could wait.

--

My wife was beautiful. No matter what else was going on between us, her beauty captivated me.

I admired her ability to be optimistic in almost every situation.

Her perpetual smile still made me stare.

Her hazel eyes should have been enough to keep me enthralled for the rest of my life.

Even though her beauty was beyond question, my love for her wasn’t.

And after today, I would recommit.

Give our marriage another chance.

————————

Tracy

The day I realized my marriage was in crisis started like any other day. I can look back at it now and see all the fat cracks and gaping holes. Back then, I saw nothing through the haze of busyness.

Like so many other mornings, the sun rose over our deck, baking off the morning fog. I got to work early, attended every scheduled meeting, and paid just enough attention to grasp the details being presented.

I stopped at the grocer on the way home to pick up a rack of lamb, baby white potatoes, fresh broccoli and French bread. Walter and I needed a special night. This weekend was going to be different. My sole goal for the evening was to pause our world long enough to remember what he smelled like, tasted like, felt like.

I pulled into the garage, hurried into the house to set the atmosphere for our special evening I had planned. By the time the delicious smell of garlic, butter and grilled meat filled the house, and the mellow sound of Paul Taylor’s saxophone, I ran upstairs to slip into my shortest, sexiest, silky nightie. Dinner was ready and so was I.

The snug fit did little to boost my confidence. Dropping twenty-five pounds would make me look like one of those women who always turned Walter’s head. I pulled the teddy over my hips and headed downstairs.

The beverage, the music, the smell of good food all helped to relax the knots in my shoulders.

Walter promised to be home by seven. I set the oven to warm and curled up on the sofa to wait. And wait.

By eight o’clock the lamb had dried out, the drink had warmed, my anxiety rose, but I waited some more.

My entire relationship with Walter wasn’t measured in special events, but in time.

How long would it take for him to notice me?

How long would it take him to ask me out?

How long would it take for him to propose to me?

Now I sat at home waiting on him, crippled with fear while our marriage continued to crumble.

I swirled the merlot around in the glass. No matter how close it came to the rim, I managed to not spill it. Walter and I must have thought we could do the same thing, push our relationship to the limit, hoping not to rip it apart. We took everything for granted. Even each other.

At nine o’clock, I ate dinner.

Alone.

The flavors lay on my tongue like overprocessed leather. After two mouthfuls, I wrapped the leftovers and tucked them into the refrigerator already stuffed with other meals, I’d cooked that he hadn’t eaten. He’d probably come home and pass out instead of eating.

The band constricting my heart tightened, trapping my breath in my chest. I didn’t recognize my own life.

At nine-thirty, I heard Walter’s keys in the door. I forced my anger down before I unfolded my legs, placing my feet on the floor. Running to greet him had ended years ago, just like his morning good-bye k-sses and coming home on time to eat dinner with me.

“Tracy, I’m home.”

I stayed in the family room, listening to him open the oven. I downed the last of the beverage before walking into the kitchen with the biggest smile I could muster.

“Did you cook dinner tonight?”

“It’s good to see you too, honey. I thought you were coming home on time, tonight.” I parked my butt on the barstool and dropped my chin into my palm, bracing for our nightly tug-of-war.

“I had to make a stop, Tracy. Right now, I just want to eat and go to bed.” He pulled a plate from the refrigerator and peeled back the aluminum foil. He loosened his tie and placed his jacket on the back of the stool. The creases along the sleeve of his baby blue shirt were still sharp. He looked like he’d dressed just moments ago, instead of early that morning. Walter prided himself on his impeccable sense of taste and style.

“Why didn’t you keep it warm in the oven?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be late?”

He stuck the food into the microwave. Without looking at me, he punched the buttons then poured a glass of beverage. His shoulders rose and fell without the audible sigh that usually accompanied his gesture.

He pressed his hip against the counter, grinning like a child on Christmas Day. “I bought a new car today.”

His statement didn’t register right away. I was waiting to hear why he was late, and his response to my question shouldn’t have started with something he purchased.

“What did you say?” I shook my head and tried to focus.

“That’s right. A new car.”

I pushed off the stool, made my way to the garage and flipped the light switch. Next to my car, a shiny, new, top-of-the-line Lexus, gleamed under the harsh fluorescent overhead light. The Lexus laughed at me for not being in on the joke that was my life.

My trek to the kitchen and back to the stool was a long, long journey.

I didn’t blink.

I didn’t swallow.

I didn’t move.

I just stared at Walter. Forced myself to breathe in, breathe out.

Seethe in, seethe out.

“What were you thinking? Crystal’s graduation and wedding are coming up. You couldn’t have waited a few more weeks?”

From the way he looked at me, I was the wanker trying to steal his joy. Why couldn’t I just walk over to him, k-ss his cheek and forget about it? That’s the wife I wanted to be.

“I work every day. I don’t need your permission to spend my money.”

“It’s not about permission. We had an agreement to discuss large purchases. A dishwasher, a blender, even a new sofa-wouldn’t need to be discussed, but a car that costs thirty-thousand dollars—”

“It was a lot more than that.” His tone was so casual he could have been discussing the purchase of sweat socks. “And, we struck that deal when we first got married, when money was tight and we had to be careful. But now, I wanted the car. I bought it.”

My life was slipping through my fingers and I didn’t know how to close my hands around it.

I nodded. Not in agreement, but with acceptance. I accepted the shift in our marriage, from what I thought was true, to the reality staring across the counter at me.

--

Tracy

The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, warming Walter’s empty spot in the king-size bed next to me. His declaration from last night had left me spinning, like he’d abandoned me on a deserted island. The rift between us oozed through the house like a red drink stain, in the things he said and didn’t say.

Ignoring the signs wasn’t the smartest move, but we’d faced hurdles before. Every married couple did, I reminded myself. Like the other times we’d managed, and we would this time, too.

The sound of Walter’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs brought me fully awake. When we were first married, he used to bring me coffee in bed. I lay there waiting in hopes that he’d come bearing a hot steamy mug to make up. I positioned myself on my elbows, hoping to look hot enough to entice him back into the world where we loved and cared for each other.

“If we’re picking up your parents and planning on arriving to the graduation on time, you need to get up.” Walter stood in the doorway, holding a mug in his palm.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “Is that my coffee?”

“No. You don’t have time to drink and dress, or we’ll be late.”

Without commenting, I left him standing there before I could develop my pre-caffeine response. Lucky for him. The words forming in my head were as ugly as his behavior.

---

Walter

Tracy strolled across the room, her slinky nightie rose just enough to catch my interest. Getting out of the bedroom was the best option for us both. Her perky breasts and full hips always stirred my lust. My body jerked to life, every cell warming to the thought, but the idea had trouble scrolled across it.

There used to be a time when I couldn’t keep my hands off her, but then all the dull, routine stuff got in the way. All the had-to-dos got in the way of want-to-dos. The talk about mortgages, grocery lists, or bills were the staples holding us together. I used to be the focus of her attention, but when Crystal came along, she abandoned me, leaving me with too much time and too much pent-up sexual energy.

As I reached the base of the stairs I heard Tracy turn on the shower. After a few seconds, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed.

“Isn’t the graduation today? I didn’t think I’d hear from you.” Sasha cooed into the phone, instantly making me ache for her.

“I have a few minutes before we leave and I wanted to hear your voice. I’m expecting the rest of the day to be bogged down in ritual.”

“If you sneak over here before going I’ll give you plenty to think about.”

“I bet you will, you always do.” I dropped my voice, before glancing upstairs. “I do have something to talk about with you—”

“I have something to tell you, too.”

“I don’t like surprises. Tell me now.” I moved towards my office.

“Oh no. It can wait. I really miss you, Walt.” She sweetened her voice, like she always did when she wanted to wrap me around her pinkie.

My resolve to break up with her circled my heart. The idea seemed absurd, but I had to stick with it this time, even if it meant limiting my sexual thrills to no frills. Returning to faithful husband should have made me happy, instead I felt like a man marching towards the guillotine.

Finding excuses to feed Tracy was exhausting, and Sasha wanted more. I saw it in Sasha’s eyes every time we talked, the way she clung to me when it was time for me to leave, and her unexpected visits to my office. Designer handbags, diamonds, and trips were easy, but time, commitment, and relationships were not.

With the threats of major lay-offs at the company, that meant I’d have to cut back on the money going out. Which meant I couldn’t keep lavishing expensive gifts on Sasha. Which meant my twenty-something exquisite lay would be moving on to someone more age-and-funds appropriate. Which meant I’d have to settle for what I had, at least until everything settled down at work.

I cupped my hand over the mouthpiece. “I’ll try to stop by before the weekend is over. After the graduation, things will settle down.”

“I’ll be waiting with no panties, just the way you like me.”

I disconnected the call, entered my office, and dropped into my leather executive chair. I’d tried to resist Sasha. What was supposed to be a routine book purchase from her bookstore had turned into three trips. I knew she was baiting me by playing hard-to-get, but I liked a good old-fashioned cat and mouse game. Especially when the prize was young, single, and undemanding. Giving up Sasha wouldn’t be easy. She was a fun distraction from the routine, a link to my youth. Being with her was like being back in college with fast girls and quick sexual encounters. When intercourse was just about intercourse and not about securing a future or paying a mortgage or raising children or grocery lists or where to vacation. With Sasha, I didn’t have to pretend to have all the answers because she had so few questions. As long as I satisfied her in bed and brought her a few baubles, she was fulfilled.

Someone else would eventually take her place, but until then, I could be happy with Tracy. She wasn’t as imaginative in bed as she used to be, but she was always willing. Maybe when I got older, the everyday sameness wouldn’t be so detestable. Tracy seemed to thrive on routine. How she managed to be happy with the dull regimen amazed me. But I’d give it another try. The next time, I’d cross my fingers tighter and try harder to keep my shaft in my pants. Tracy deserved better.

--

Tracy

I wanted to be mad at Walter for buying the car and breaking one of our marital canons, but I couldn’t hold on to the anger. Watching our daughter receive her hard earned, expensive degree pushed everything else aside.

When the ceremony ended, the graduates filed out of the auditorium. I came to my feet and took long strides to catch up to Walter. Once in the aisle, his progress came to a halt. A crush of family and well-wishers inched out of the auditorium, like a slow wave of cold molasses.

The unhurried egress benefited my parents. They moved like snails. I turned around to find they’d fallen well behind Walter and me. With his long legs and easy gait, Walter pushed towards the fresh air outside. I grabbed his arm.

“We need to wait for my parents.” I stepped aside to allow the flow towards the exit to continue. A bead of sweat dangled between my breasts. I swiped it away and willed my parents to pick up their pace before I melted.

“Is everything okay?” I asked when they caught up.

“We’re fine.” My mother shuffled alongside my father, her lips pulled tighter than a length of thread. “Your dad’s a little slow, that’s all.”

“Don’t listen to your mother. She likes to make mountains out of mole hills.”

“Look at how slow you walkin’. Ain’t nobody making mountains. You can barely keep up.”

“Frances, I’m fine. What’s your hurry anyway? Go on ahead. I’m right behind you.” My father waved his hand like he was shooing flies.

“We’ll talk later,” my mother mouthed to me.

Inches away from the main exit, I felt the promise of less humid air. I used my hand as a fan to dry the perspiration beading on my forehead.

We stepped outside. The temperature was only marginally better than the auditorium, but at least there was room to move around and the air didn’t feel used. Walter crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at me. His sharp jaw and pronounced cheekbones caught the sun, reminding me how much I loved his fierce good looks.

“Are we heading home now?” he asked.

My stomach pummeled. The rosy expectations I had for the day vanished like pixie dust.

“Don’t you want to see Crystal and Max? We need to take some pictures to remember this moment...the whole graduation thing.”

“Can’t we do that later?”

Before answering him, I drew a deep breath. His debonair style, nor my need to make him happy, wouldn’t change my mind about leaving him this time. The car was the nail that bit me and sealed my decision. I reached for my reservoir of patience, using just enough to get through the moment, because I knew I’d need more before the day was over.

“It won’t be the same later. I want to capture this moment, not some made-up moment. And after the pictures, we’re taking them to dinner to celebrate.”

Instead of answering, he sighed and repositioned his arms.

“We’re going out to dinner,” I said again. “Our daughter just graduated from college. We talked about this a week ago and you agreed.” When he didn’t respond I continued, “Carla and Ursula are coming too.”

“No! Not the loud mouths. I’ve got to deal with your parents, and now you’re throwing your two friends into the mix. Is Carla bringing that talkative Javier, too?” His eyes followed the lines in my dress down to my shoes. “Besides, I thought you were dieting again?”

Again.

He said again.

And he said it loud enough for everyone within earshot to hear. I sucked in all the air my lungs could hold. His comment was like a sucker punch. My weight was not open for discussion. Not ever. In fact, never. Even if I got tent big.

My favorite pair of Jimmy Choo shoes and the new Ellen Tracy dress didn’t make me look like the svelte girl he married, but I didn’t need his help counting calories or to remind me of the weight loss promises I made and failed to keep.

“Yes, Carla’s coming, and I’m sure she’s bringing Javier. He’s her husband. And Ursula might bring a friend too.” He looked pained. Ursula was coming alone, but I threw that comment out to rile him.

“I thought we were going to have something at home. At least then I could watch television or get some work done.”

“Having something at home means you get to sit down and I get to do all the shopping, all the preparing, and all the running around.” I paused, trying to find a level of Zen to get me through the day. “There will be no television tonight. We’re going out to dinner in your new car and I hope my parents don’t piss in the back seat.”

The stricken look on his face let me know I’d hit my target.

My parents weren’t incontinent, but getting back at him for the diet comment rumbled through me like a child well past nap time.

“Fine, Tracy. Where are we going?”

“We talked about this, Walter. Don’t you remember?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind. You know, with work and all.” He shoved his hand in his pocket.

“I made reservations at Ruth’s Chris at the Baltimore Inner Harbor.”

“That means I have to pick up the tab for your parents, your friends and Crystal and Max?” He punctuated each word. “Why did you pick such an expensive restaurant?” I expected him to stomp his foot like a child.

“Walter, please, not today. This is supposed to be a happy day. Where do you think we should celebrate—McDonald’s? You weren’t thinking about money when you bought that new car. Besides, you made it clear we don’t have to consult each other on expenditures. Right?”

He clenched his jaw.

“Fine.” His curt tone and rigid stance indicated he wasn’t fine.

His right eye twitched, a telltale sign that my position chaffed him. We needed quality time, and soon. When we’re in sync little things like this didn’t ruffle us.

Walter towered over me by a foot. Even at forty-two, his stomach remained flat and his thighs were as solid as iron rods. His salt and pepper hair gave him a distinguished appearance. More than twenty years of marriage and I still adored him. But we were out of rhythm and I was out of solutions. Other women gave him long hot looks. He didn’t think I noticed, but I noticed everything. Everything.

***

After dinner, we drove my parents back to Philadelphia. The drive from Baltimore to Philly contained no more chitchat about Walter’s new car.

I tried to focus on happier thoughts. “Can you believe Javier? He and Carla might as well have intercourse right there at the dinner table.”

Walter snorted without looking at me.

“Are you jealous?” I inquired. “At least somebody is making out.”

“No, I’m not jealous. Are you?”

I shifted in the seat. “A little bit.”

He gave me a dismissive look and readjusted his hand on the steering wheel. I almost told him about Marco, but he’d find some way to tarnish one of my bright spots.

I wanted passion in my life, someone to look at me like I mattered, for their eyes to light up when I walked into the room. Most days I felt like I was standing in the shadows watching other people live their lives. I couldn’t remember the last time Walter and I made hot passionate love, or even lukewarm love. My body ached for his touch, to feel the warmth of his hands caressing me. I wanted to be folded into his massive arms and reassured that life would be good again.

A few weeks back, we had a quickie one evening when he finally came home from work. I threw myself at him before he could fall asleep. He performed his duty, without touching my heart.

Most days, I spent hours daydreaming about Marco Ferrara, my good-looking co-worker who warmed the icy patches left behind by Walter. Marco mixed Italian words with English in his deep lascivious voice. If I left Walter, I could have lusty, frenzied intercourse with Marco. I crossed my legs and tried to suppress my guilt. Good wives never thought about other men. What would my parents or daughter say if they knew how much I thought about Marco? Just thinking about him made me feel guilty.

For the rest of the drive, I pretended to sleep to avoid arguing with Walter. By the time we pulled into the garage, it was one-thirty in the morning. Once inside the house, Walter went straight upstairs without another word.

I stopped in the kitchen and stood in front of the open refrigerator door. The cool air from inside drifted over me. After gulping down a glass of merlot, I kicked off my shoes and rubbed my toes together. My thoughts swam together as I poured a second glass of beverage. I didn’t want them to stop, because then I would have to do something. A nagging feeling plucked at my brain. Could Walter be having an affair? Again?

My knees buckled. I grabbed the chair to keep from losing my balance. The sound of my heavy breathing flooded my ears. I straightened up, then rummaged in the kitchen cabinets until I found the bottle of pills. I needed them to get through the upcoming hectic weeks.

Walter was already snoring when I climbed the stairs. I wasn’t sleepy. Instead, I could still feel him rubbing my knee and inching his hand up my thigh. I undressed, dropping my clothes into a heap on the floor. I climbed into bed and k-ssed him on the lips. I pressed k-sses on his chest as my hand moved to his groin.

“Not now, I’m tired,” he barked.

“Come on Walter, you started something earlier. Don’t you want to finish?”

“Not now.” He didn’t even open his eyes.

“Are you still mad about the money? We’ll cut back.” I stroked his shaft until it hardened in my palm.

“Stop it, Tracy.” He pushed my hand away.

“I think you want to.” I planted a k-ss on his chin.

“I can get hard watching a pretty girl walk down the street. It doesn’t mean I want to have intercourse.”

“Why, Walter? What’s bugging you now?”

He pulled away. I gave up and sat on the edge of the bed.

Even though I was twenty pounds overweight, men still eyed me. Weeks ago, some young guy had stopped me on the street to offer me a personal hello. He told me how nice I looked before scribbling his phone number on a piece of paper and pushing it into my hand. That number was still wedged into the corner of my wallet, as if I might call it one day. I’m sure he only wanted intercourse, but that counts.

I took validation from anywhere. If Walter didn’t find me appealing, Marco Ferrara, with his smooth husky voice certainly did. The way he smiled at me at work was enough to make me happy.

“Do you ever wonder how long we’ll be married?” I asked in a voice that was almost inaudible.

“Why? What do you think?”

“We’re always at odds, arguing about little things that wouldn’t have mattered to us years ago.”

“People change. They don’t always see eye to eye. It means nothing. So please come back to bed.”

“So is that a no or a yes?”

“What do you think, Tracy?”

I didn’t answer right away. It felt like a no, but saying it aloud made it real.

“Sometimes I think we will, and other times, we don’t seem to have the energy to care what happens to us.”

“I’m going to sleep.” He pulled the sheet over his head.

Was I asking for too much? I only wanted life to slow down long enough for me to catch up. It seemed like Crystal grew up overnight, and now the only thing waiting for me was a long stretch of deserted road. That nagging feeling skidded across my brain again. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore it.

“Are you having an affair, Walter?”