Across That Line

"And I was doing that because Ireally wanted to be there...where the excitement was happening and stuff, you know?" Her voice dropped in pitch and volume as she spoke. "I was lying to myself some too...I never let myself look at why I wasn't telling you...but that's no excuse. I'm a grown woman and I knew better."

She looked away to hide the sudden sheen of tears in the corner of her eyes. She dabbed at the dampness with a tissue brought with her just for this possibility.

"I've tried and tried to figure out whether you were right about me wanting to find...a specific someone there but I can't, Brad," she said in a forceful whisper. "There was no man...honey, I know you can't believe me right now, but there hasn't been a man in my thoughts except you from the day we met." She was quiet for a while.

"I think...I think Iwas actually looking for someone though," she admitted finally, "but I wasn't looking for anyonein particular. It was just a vague...hazy idea of maybe introducing you to someone...nice...to show you all swingers weren't the ogres you think they are," she said, finishing with a rush. "I just wanted you to see I wasn't a slimy thing that crawled out from under a rock just because Scott and I went to some clubs for a while."

Her voice broke slightly. She was trying to be matter-of-fact about what she was saying, but it was too personal. The wetness in her eyes grew and overflowed.

"I swear to you, darling," Ashley said fervently. "I'm sure that's what I was feeling...I never thought about the sex going on up there. It sounds dumb, but the sex was the least of it."

"I never said you were slimy or anything of the sort," Brad protested softly. "Ash..." He wet his lips. "Look...I know in my head...I know, intellectually speaking, that people who go to places like that aren't evil monsters. You're one of those people...you used to go to those clubs, and I love you more than life itself, so all of them can't be."

He stopped. It was hard to speak around the lump in his throat. For the first time in a month, he admitted to himself how miserable he was these days.

Ashley's heart had almost stopped when Brad said he loved her...not he "had" loved her...he said hedid love her "more than life itself." She began to hope just when she'd decided there was none.

"I still don't know why I did those things, Brad...I don't have an excuse," she said in a low voice. "I'm so ashamed...swingers don'tdo those things," she said softly.

"Everything in the lifestyle is about being discreet and being behind closed doors. When Floyd told me they went over the line he was being nice to himself," she explained.

"I've tried to remember what I was thinking when I saw Ann and Floyd, but I can't," she said, almost moaning. "I can see in my mind a split-second of incredible surprise and a realization they were thelast people in the world I wanted to meet there and then...I was just overwhelmed with everything, Brad. I don't know any other way to say it."

She stared straight ahead, then shook her head in dismay. She sniffed and touched the damp tissue to her nose before swallowing hard.

"I hate myself for letting them kiss me like they did, honey. I knew it was terribly wrong and I couldn't stand knowing what you would think of me...and then everything...the lights, the crowd, everyone moving around like bumble bees, the excitement I was trying to push away...I felt a little faint...my heart was pounding...and then I disconnected," she said.

"I swear to you, Brad, I don't remember how I got down that hall and into that room. All I have is a foggy memory here and there." She had to stop to breathe.

"I remember swatting Floyd's hands off me...I have a vague memory of being glad he'd only touched me through my clothes...that's notmuch, but I guess I have to take what I can get," she said slowly.

"I don't even remember Ann touching me at all but I'm sure she didn't after that. I don't remember much about what we talked about, but what I do remember, it was just talk about friends and couples we used to know...and the weather. We talked about that for a minute or two, I remember.

"Then...I was in a panic all of a sudden and I didn't know why," she said plaintively. "I guess my brain suddenly realized what I'd done to you. For sure, I knew you weren't with me and everything came crashing down. I looked all around but I couldn'tfind you and I screamed at Floyd and Ann.

"You...I think Floyd said you must be at the bar and he went to look but I yelled at him because he couldn't possibly know what you looked like and I had to go look myself. Then I went to all the hotel bars and the food places and bars in the city convention center next to the hotel. I couldn't get rid of Floyd...and I finally hit him on the arm and made him go away.

"I'm sure everyone up there remembers the crazy lady who cried and screamed at while she ran from one bar to the next," she said quietly. "One place said they were calling the cops and I ran away," she remarked with shame.

"Anyway, I looked all over before eventhinking about my cell phone...I was sostupid," she said angrily. It took meforever to make them understand they had to give me another key card and..."

Ashley stopped her narration abruptly. She'd told herself she was going to tell her husband what was in her heart without making excuses and without embellishment. She dabbed at fresh tears with the soaked tissue. Shifting his body around, Brad took a handkerchief from his back pocket and put it in her hand. She nodded gratefully.

"Well...anyway..." she said at length, "you know all the rest." They were quiet for a long while, each digesting what she'd said."

The silence lengthened and deepened.

"Brad..." Ashley whispered brokenly when she couldn't hold back any longer. "Please don't leave me, baby," she begged. "I need you so bad...I love you with all my heart and the girls love you more than they do their real dads..." She cried silently for a moment.

Brad said nothing. He'd thoughtshe was the one about to leave the marriage, not him. He cleared his throat.

"Honey," Ashley said desperately, "you said before we got married you thought sometimes we shouldn't get married because I knew all about being married and you didn't know anything...remember?"

"You were so, so wrong," she said bitterly. "I was married twice before we met...and I screwed both of them up. I don't know onething about how to make a marriage work," she admitted.

"I think you're my last chance," she whispered. "If I can't make it with the most wonderful man I ever met, I can't make it with anyone."

"Please don't throw me out, Brad...darling," she begged. "I can't change what I already did, but I know what I did wrong and I won't ever be like that again, baby...please...we can make this work. My God, my girls love you so much, honey...please?"

There was a long silence. The two young girls laughed happily at something one of the cartoon figures said. Ashley's heart sank as she waited.

She gave up. There was nothing more to be said. Wearily, she gathered herself to rise and go to...somewhere else in the house.

Brad took her hand in his. He didn't move otherwise. He had already turned back to the TV.

Ashley hardly dared breathe. It had been so long since her husband had accepted any physical contact, much less reached out to touch her. Slowly, she put her other hand on top of his. Lifting slowly, she brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers softly before letting their coupled hands fall gently to her lap.

Her eyes were brimming with new tears, but she refused to mop them away with the handkerchief. It was only when the final credits were showing on the screen that she released her tight grasp of Brad's hand and wiped her cheeks dry so the children would never know she'd been crying.

Brad climbed the stairs that night to join his wife in their bedroom for the first time in a month. He didn't know whether he was right in doing it or not, but he loved the woman he'd married. If he wasn't going to leave and divorce her, he owed it tohimself to let things begin to recover as much as they could. He didn't hold out much hope, but he wasn't going to work so hard at learning how to be single again.

Chapter 4

Another summer had come, and almost gone, in southern Texas. It was hot, but that was normal. Folks didn't bother remarking on it except to wonder facetiously what this thing "rain" was that they heard about on the Weather Channel.

Five-year-old Cathy would be starting kindergarten in a few weeks and four-year-old Cindy was an enthusiastic force of nature doing her best to energize an entire pre-kindergarten class. They were growing taller now, developing their own personalities.

Next week, the final hearing would be held in the Bexar County Courthouse and the adoption proceedings would be complete. New birth certificates would be issued naming Brad as their father and everything. When they started their classes, their last name would be the same for the first time in their lives. They loved their parents and were loved in return, and they knew it.

The marriage between their mother and "new" father had survived, but it had been tough. There had been disagreements, a few arguments, and many late night discussions, but their relationship was intact. Most people would say it had healed.

Brad wasn't so sure. That his wife had "disconnected," as she put it, under the stress of the bubbling excitement and all the activity at the swinger's hotel last year still depressed him at times. Even though she swore she would never again yield to a temptation to keep him in the dark aboutanything, Brad had doubts.

Ashley seemed sincere though. He had no reason to doubt her...not really. He decided she probably meant what she said. It didn't cheer him much on those occasions when he let himself brood on the shame and humiliation she'd heaped on him that afternoon in Dallas. There were too many things left unexplained...things that had crushed him at the time...but things Ashley was more than happy to forget as fast as she could. She had shamed herself too and suffered herself. Hers was a self-imposed chastisement; Brad hadn't had a choice.

Seemingly, Ashley didn't understand some things she'd said to Brad as they sat on the sofa watching the girls. For instance, she'd remarked a couple of times on the "excitement" she'd felt. She even blamed it for having been overwhelmed in the hotel lobby. It told him she craved excitement...she missed it.

She'd also told him very solemnly the sexual atmosphere there, real or perceived, was not a part of what had happened. Brad knew different. Ashley was truthful...but she didn't seem to realize sex was the source of the excitement. The breathless anticipation of the sex act was what had been driving her mood up there in the hotel.

No amount of talking could convince Ashley this was true. She accepted what he said but there was a barrier in her mind he could not breach. She could notfeel his concerns. She thought she was prepared to successfully suppress any future excitements and disconnects. She'd never let herself get into that condition ever again, she said.

Brad, though, lived in fear of the next occasion Ashley might feel the need for thatexcitement she'd anticipated...and experienced...in that Dallas hotel. He lived with it every day. A philosopher once said all men lived lives of quiet desperation. Brad knew exactly what the man meant.

*

# #

"You ready for this?" Ashley asked with a smile. Brad nodded. He was. They'd never had time for a real honeymoon and their one attempt to have a belated one last summer turned into a catastrophe. When Ashley won a week's stay at one of the Riverwalk's finer hotels in a charity raffle, they cautiously decided to try again.

Grandma and Grandpa Rogers had the two girls for tonight, tomorrow, and Wednesday night. Then they'd take them to Ashley's Mom and step-dad who would take care of the munchkins Thursday and Friday. Saturday and Sunday were reserved for Ashley's Dad and her step-mom. With three sets of grandparents, the girls were in seventh heaven. They'd never had so much non-stop attention.

Brad and Angela spent the first three days alone except for the odd room maid, a waitress or two in restaurants around, and the bellhop who brought up meals from the room service menu. They needed this time alone--they hadn't realized how badly they'd needed it until they were well into the break from everyone else.

On Thursday, they needed to get out and decided to stroll down the Riverwalk to one of the sidewalk bars they'd been told served the biggest, coldest margaritas known to mankind. The afternoon sun was behind the tall buildings of downtown San Antonio. The walk down the river canal was a pleasant one.

On the way, they passed a group of girls in bright green, satiny warm-ups, a sports team of some kind taking the opportunity to visit one of the city's main attractions. The name of a prominent university was emblazoned on the front of the jackets and the girls' names on the back. Most of them were too pretty, in Brad's estimation, for athletes, but somewere tall, almost hulking.

As he and Ashley passed the group, one of the prettiest was tripped when she and another girl moved into the same empty space at the same time. She fell sprawling out in the busy sidewalk right in front of Brad.

"Are you okay?" Brad asked sympathetically, kneeling quickly beside the young woman. Her first reaction to his question was to flush a bright, fire engine red. A quick breath hissed in her teeth as she drew in some air.

"I'm all right," she said in a small voice. Brad studied her carefully. He'd seen a lot of people fall precipitously and not realize they were badly injured until they tried to get up.

"Well...uh...wiggle everything to make sure," he suggested. "Let's make sure, okay?"

The woman obligingly gave herself a perfunctory pat down, moving legs and twisting about in tiny arcs to check herself out. Brad didn't know it, but she was an accomplished gymnast and did, in fact, know the dangers of a sudden fall.

"I'm okay," she told Brad. Her eyes were fixed on his face the whole time.

Brad nodded, stood up, and extended his hand down to the young woman. When she clasped forearms with him, he hauled her up by main force. The girls all around noticed how little effort he had to use to pull the young woman upright. He might have just been doing an arm curl for all the strain he showed. The girl who'd fallen stood close to the older man for just a moment before stepping back.

"All right?" Brad asked. She nodded, then responded to Brad's friendly grin.

"Thank you," the young woman said in a low-pitched tone.

"Por nada, senorita," Brad replied smoothly. "You take care now, hear?" he said by way of a farewell. He was ready to step back and continue the walk down to where a pitcher of margaritas had his and Ashley's name on it. He was caught off guard when several of the girls who'd come forward to stand around the stricken young woman began giggling.

"Back off girls," Ashley remarked genially, her voice loud enough for all the girls to hear. "He's mine, ladies...all...mine!"

A couple of the girls giggled again in a nervous reaction. The groupdid back away slightly, then closed ranks around the girl who had fallen. Their impromptu huddle excluded everyone else around, including Brad and Ashley. The couple resumed their slow walk down the side of the canal.

"You didn't have to defend me," Brad said a short way down the sidewalk. "She was staring at my...they were looking at my nose, weren't they? I don't know why it's so funny. It's notthat big," he complained.

Ashley stared at him and pulled him to the shelter of one of the canopy-covered tables lining the walkway. She laughed softly.

"Big guy...didyou ever get the wrong message," she admonished Brad. "Baby, your schnozisn't that big...and I wish you'd get over it." She stood on tiptoes and pulled her husband's head down to kiss him on the bridge of the schnoz in question.

From down the pathway, Brad heard a few final titters. His earlobes turned pink and his jaw muscles clinched tight.

"Lover," Ashley whispered in his ear, "those girls...they aren't laughing atyou...they're laughing at themselves and at how exciting it was being so close to a big, sexy animal like you. Don't you know that?"

Brad looked back down the sidewalk. He shook his head.

"Nah...they..."

"They," Ashley said emphatically, "saw those big, strong hands of yours...and they saw the muscles in your arms and how easy it was for you to get that girl up...not to mention how that pullover shows how wide your shoulders are and how your waist isn't."

Ashley laid her hand on his chest and swept it across his pectorals. Brad felt his cheeks begin to heat. He started to protest his wife's words...and her caresses. More than a few people were looking.

"And the smartest of those girls saw those big clodhoppers you call shoes," Ashley continued before her husband could say anything.

Ash chuckled when she saw Brad's eyes widen.

"Honey, by the age of fourteen, every girl in theworld has heard the saying that big feet on a man means he also has a...bigpackagetoo. Don't you know that?" she teased.

"Did youreally think they kept dropping their eyes because they were too intimidated by your manly presence?" she continued. "Huh uh, sugar...those girls were some hot-to trot, well-trained little crotch watchers," Ashley told him almost under her breath. Only her husband heard her.

When Brad could only stand there red-faced and sweating, she chuckled again before taking his arm and pulling him into motion again. They strolled down the walk, happy to be with each other.

"Wiggle everything?" Ashley whispered in Brad's ear as they sat at their table. "Wiggle everything?"

Brad didn't understand at first, then remembered what he'd said to get the fallen young woman to check herself for injuries. His face grew red again.

"Ashley," he said awkwardly, "uh...all I meant was she needed to..."

"I know what you meant," Ashley replied, cutting him off, "but did you have to tell a girl towiggle everything?" She giggled quietly. "Don't you know what that did to that poor girl? It's not like her hormones weren't already boiling over or anything, right? You had to..."

"Enough!" Brad ordered desperately. He knew his wife was teasing him, but...come on! She obediently stopped...for the moment. At intervals during the rest of the afternoon and evening, she would murmur "wiggle everything" just to watch her husband's jaw muscles tighten in frustration.

After a nice tour of the Alamo, they took a taxi to one of the better steakhouses and enjoyed thick, incredibly tender steaks with baked potatoes swimming in butter. They stuffed themselves, loving every moment of frivolity they could have together before returning to the daily routine of children, jobs...and responsibility.

Back in their room, they relaxed and watched a few minutes of late night TV before deciding to hit the sack. Brad sat in the easy chair and read the newspaper that was provided with the room while he waited for Ashley to finish getting ready for bed.

"Hey, honey," came the husky voice. Brad's ears pricked up immediately. He knew that tone.

He turned his head to see his wife dressed...or undressed...in a red silk charmeuse nightshirt. Brad's nose flared as he watched her walked sinuously toward him. He'd never seen this piece of nightwear before. The slick fabric shimmered in the light and clung to every curve. It ended about mid-thigh. There were buttons from breast to crotch, but only two of the five were fastened.