Awakenings Ch. 02

There were seven people in the bar. A fifty something, slightly overweight, balding bartender appeared to be in charge. An older, reasonably fit black man with salt and pepper hair was playing the piano. Two couples, both in their thirties were seated at separate tables talking quietly and sipping cocktails. The seventh person was an extremely attractive, well dressed middle aged woman. She was seated at the bar.

I sat down three stools to her right. As soon as I was settled the bartender came over and said, "Welcome to the Cosmopolitan. My name is Jerry. What can get you?"

"A double Chivas, two ice cubes and a glass of water on the side."

"You got it buddy." Jerry turned and started working on my drink.

The woman three stools to my left said; "You aren't in to single malts?"

I shrugged. "While there are certainly some excellent single malts, there are also lots of bad ones. Just being a single malt doesn't make it a good whisky. I happen to like Chivas. It's a nice smooth scotch. It may not be as prestigious as some of the fashionable single malts, but I enjoy it and that's all that matters to me."

"Dear me, an independent thinker. How absolutely exciting."

"I'm sorry, you initiated this conversation. Your sarcasm is neither welcome nor appreciated."

The woman turned so she was facing me. "I apologize. You're right, I asked you a question and you gave me an honest answer. My sarcasm was completely unwarranted."

"Apology accepted."

Jerry brought me my Chivas and the side of water. I took a sip of the scotch.

As I set my glass down on the bar the woman asked, "So what brings you into the Cosmopolitan tonight?"

I turned to her. "I'm sorry, you're a beautiful woman. I'm flattered that your even willing to acknowledge my existence, but I've had an awful week. I really don't have the energy to hook up with someone tonight."

"Now that's a question provoking statement if I've ever heard one."

"It wasn't meant to be, it's just the truth."

"Tonight I'm not trying to hook up with anyone either. I've had a hard week too, but you're an intriguing man and I do enjoy an interesting conversation."

Smiling, I said; "Okay, right now a little conversation would be good for me. Can I buy you a drink?"

"No, I have one and even if I didn't I wouldn't let you buy me one."

"Yeah, okay I get it; hey I really don't have the energy for games tonight." I turned away from her.

"That wasn't a rejection. I don't happen to believe in letting men buy me drinks. If I decide to talk to you I'll do it because I think you're nice or interesting or hopefully both. When I'm looking for a little intimate companionship, and that does occasionally occur, a man's not going to improve his position by buying me a drink. Sweetheart, a five dollar martini is not going to get you into my panties."

I had to admit that I found her honesty refreshing. I nodded to her, "Okay, I'm not offended."

"I'm sorry, I really am. I try to be honest, but sometimes I end up appearing insolent and rude."

"Yeah well we all have our problems."

"I get the feeling that you've had a very bad day. Would you like to tell me about it? Sometimes talking to a complete stranger can be quite helpful."

I stared at her. After a moment I said; "If you wouldn't mind, I really would like to talk to you about it."

"I wouldn't mind at all, but before you start revealing your deepest personal secrets I think we should introduce ourselves." She grabbed her martini and moved over to the bar stool next to mine. After setting her drink on the bar she extended her hand and said; "I'm Jennifer Rawlins".

I shook her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Jennifer, I'm Michael Nolan."

Jennifer lifted her eyebrows. "Michael, not Mike?"

"You just introduced yourself as Jennifer rather than Jen or Jenny. I think I can raise the same question."

Jennifer smiled. "Touche, I like you Michael Nolan. You know how to stand your ground."

Shaking my head, I said; "I wish that was true."

"Oh my, that was a telling remark if I've ever heard one."

I shrugged.

She said, "Okay. it's obvious you have something you need to get off your chest so let's get it done. I'm all ears."

I spent the next half hour telling her everything.

When I was finished Jennifer looked at me and said; "Damn, that reminds me of my own story."

"It does?"

"Michael how old are you?"

"forty-nine."

"And Jeanne?"

"She's forty-nine too."

"And how long did you say you've been married?"

"Twenty-six years."

"How old are you're girls? I know you told me, but tell me again."

"Jodie is twenty-three. Tricia is twenty-four."

"I'm fifty-three. I've been divorced for eight years. I have a son, Tom who's now twenty-seven and a daughter, Marybeth who's twenty-six. When my ex husband divorced me Tom was nineteen and Marybeth was eighteen."

"You say your ex husband divorced you, why?"

"I'm an administrative assistant for a local automobile dealership. He caught me in a motel room with one of the salesmen who works for the same dealership."

"You were cheating on him?"

"I certainly was."

"How long?"

"Three months, but that wasn't my first affair. There were two other guys before that."

"How long were those affairs?"

"Six or seven months, in both cases we eventually got bored with each other. You might say that both of those affairs died of natural causes."

"How did your husband finally figure it out. How did he catch you in the motel room?"

I was a self centered bitch."

"That's a little harsh."

"That's what I was. For almost two years I regularly gave it up to another guy while I forgot about the man I loved."

"You mean you stopped having sex with your husband."

"It happened gradually, but by the time I was in the middle of my third affair that was about it. Richard, that's my ex husband was lucky if he got a mercy fuck once a month."

"Why? Didn't you like him?"

"No I liked him, I loved him too. Hell Richard Marks is the only man I'll ever love."

"So why did you cut him off?"

"That's not the full question. I didn't just cut Richard off, I did it while I was regularly giving it up to another man."

"You almost sound proud of that."

Jennifer shook her head. "No I'm not proud of it. I'm ashamed of it."

"So why did you do it?"

"That's the million dollar question."

"Do you know the answer?"

"After several years of therapy, I think I do."

"Will you tell me?"

"It's complicated."

"It might help me with Jeanne."

"It might, but it also might not."

"I haven't got much to lose."

"You're not a middle aged woman. I'm not sure you'll understand."

"Again, what have I got to lose? I told you mine, now it's your turn to tell me yours."

"You've already heard most of it."

"Yes, but I haven't heard the why. That's what I'm dying to know."

"it might not be the same why with Jeanne."

"I know, but at least it might give me a place to start."

"Okay, I was forty-one. My two kids were in high school.

I nodded. "I know, you were beginning to feel old and useless."

Jennifer bristled. "Michael, are you being judgmental?"

"Maybe a little. I'm getting old too."

"You have your career."

"You had a career too. You told me that you were an administrative assistant at an automobile dealership."

"Michael you own and run an accounting firm. Richard is a full professor at Kelroy College. I'm an administrative assistant. That's a fancy name for a secretary. I type documents and bring men coffee."

"Okay, you win on that one."

"It's not a matter of winning or losing, it's a matter of understanding."

"You're right, I understand.

"Do you?"

"I don't know. I'll try."

"That's a start."

"Okay, you were feeling old and unfulfilled." I held up my hand. "That was not intended to be a disparaging remark."

"I'll accept that. Yes I was and I was also beginning to question my sexual desirability."

"Why?"

"I looked in the mirror."

"You're a beautiful woman."

"Thank you, I was when I was twenty-five and yes, men still tell me that now; but when I looked in the mirror I saw the changes in my skin and the lines that were beginning to appear around my eyes and mouth."

"We all get old. That's why marriage is so important. A husband and wife grow old together. Love allows them to accept the superficial changes that are occurring."

"You're absolutely right and I kept trying to tell myself that; but..." Jennifer's voice trailed off.

I watched her.

After a moment she said, "Losing your sexual desirability is another issue."

"Did your husband lose interest in you?"

Smiling, Jennifer said; "No, I lost interest in him."

"You're not making sense."

"I lost interest in respectable sex."

"Respectable sex?"

"Proper sex, the sex a virtuous wife engages in with her husband."

"Was your ex husband a prude?"

Jennifer shook her head. "That's the saddest part of my depressing tale. He wasn't. I'm quite certain he would have loved some dirty nasty sex."

"You're losing me."

"Michael, my husband had me on a pedestal. I was his wife, the mother of his children and his idea of feminine perfection. Sadly it was a status that I enjoyed and one that I wasn't willing to risk. I didn't dare admit to that wonderful man that I had an insatiable desire to occasionally be a nasty cock sucking slut."

"He probably would have loved you even more."

"You're right and while I know that now, I didn't know it then. Being a model wife and mother was the core of my identity. I didn't dare risk that."

"So you had an affair."

"Two of them and I'm ashamed to admit that I did things for those men that I never did for my husband, the only man I will ever love." Shaking her head, Jennifer said; "Richard was the perfect husband, father and provider. I felt that I had to be the perfect wife, mother and homemaker and that included being a paragon of virtue."

Jennifer paused for a moment and then she said; "Michael, this country has an outrageous double standard about sex. On Sundays we go to church where we self righteously celebrate our uptight morality and virtuously condemn the Jezebels and Lotharios who violate our strict standards of respectability. That's our public facade. In private everything changes. As soon as we get home from church we log on to the Internet and eagerly seek out stories, movies and pictures describing every sexual perversion imaginable."

Sighing, Jennifer said; "And eventually many of us succumb to our insatiable desire to act out those perverted fantasies."

"Perverted fantasies? Isn't that a little overly dramatic?"

"It is, but when you're a proper middle class wife and mother anything other than missionary position intercourse feels perverted and adventurous."

"And you didn't dare do that with your husband."

"I was ashamed to do it with him."

"But you did it with three other men."

"Men I barely knew. Men I hardly talked to when we were together."

"The anonymity was what made it work."

Jennifer smiled. "You're beginning to understand."

"It doesn't make it okay."

"No it doesn't, but I don't think this is an issue of right or wrong or good or bad. We're products of our culture."

I nodded, but then I said; "I gather that your husband didn't see it that way."

"No he certainly did not. I've repeatedly tried to explain it to him. He won't listen and I don't blame him. He hired a private detective. They had the motel room under both audio and video surveillance. He saw the things I did for my boyfriend."

"Things you didn't do for him."

"Michael I can't begin to describe how much I'd like to go back and change that. If he'd let me I'd spend the rest of my life as Richard's personal whore."

"Has he found another woman?"

"No, in fact I'm reasonably certain that he doesn't even date." Slowly shaking her head, Jennifer said; "I shattered his confidence."

Nodding, I said; "You made him feel old and undesirable."

"But he wasn't, he isn't. He still isn't."

"Men are every bit as vulnerable as women to the fears and self doubt that come with advancing age."

"I know."

"Jeanne called me a balding middle aged man with a paunch. She's tried to take it back, but those are words that are difficult to forget."

"Especially when you know that she was about to spend an evening in bed with another man, a younger man."

Sighing, I said; "Yes, that makes it much harder to forget those words."

"Michael this is a complicated situation. I'm sure your wife still loves you."

"I believe she does too."

"Do you still love her?"

"Yes, I do; very much."

"Then talk to her. Try to get her to go to a marriage counselor. Try to work this out."

"I'll call her. I'll talk to her. I'll even try to get her to go to counseling, but Jennifer." I paused.

She said, "Yes?"

"If I find out that Jeanne did things with this other man that she's refused to do with me." I sighed. "I don't think I'll be able to handle that."

"Michael please try to understand. We're products of a repressed, uptight culture. For many of us it's difficult to reconcile our physical desires with the puritanical ethics that were instilled in us while we grew up."

"I know; but love, sharing and mutual concern are also important. For the past several years I've been virtually celibate."

"Richard was too. I'm not attempting to justify either my behavior or Jeanne's. I'm just trying to tell you that it's complicated."

Nodding, I said; "I understand. Thank you, I appreciate your insights. I really do mean that."

Jennifer looked at the clock over the bar. It was 10:30. She finished her drink and stood up. "Michael while our conversation became quite serious, it was satisfying. I'm glad I met you tonight and I hope I see you again."

I smiled. "Our conversation was confusing and at times unsettling, but it was enlightening. Jennifer, you're a bright thoughtful woman. I enjoyed meeting you too."

Jennifer stared at me for a moment and then she said; "Call Jeanne."

"I will."

"Call her tonight."

"It's late."

"That doesn't matter. This is an issue that supersedes the social conventions regarding the time of day. Call her, do it now."

Realizing that she was right, I said; "Okay, I'll call her tonight."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Good." Jennifer kissed my cheek and said; "Michael, you're a very handsome and desirable man. If it wasn't so obvious that you're still deeply in love with Jeanne I'd try to entice you to share my bed with me tonight."

Laughing I said; "Thank you Jennifer, that was kind. Right now my faltering ego needs every boost it can get."

"Michael that wasn't an attempt to shore up your ego. That was the truth and if your marriage does collapse you're going to quickly find that out. Women are going to be hounding you for dates."

"Well I still am in love with Jeanne, so for the time being it's a moot point."

"I know and that's one of the many reasons you're so attractive." Jennifer kissed me again and said; "I wish you well sweet man." And then she turned and walked out of the bar.

As soon as Jennifer was gone I finished my scotch and said goodbye to Jerry the bartender.

It was 10:45 Friday night. When I stepped out of the Cosmopolitan Lounge First Avenue was bustling with activity. It was a warm August evening. People were leaving theaters and restaurants and walking to night clubs and cocktail lounges. Traffic in the street was almost as congested as it was at mid day.

I walked over to a bus bench, sat down and took out my cell phone. As I pressed the speed dial number for my home telephone I wondered whether Jeanne would be at home or out on another date with her new boyfriend. While that afternoon she'd assured me that she was going to stop seeing Derek Fischer, I was skeptical.

Jeanne was at home. She picked up on the third ring.

"Michael, thank you for calling." Caller ID had identified me.

"Hello Jeanne."

"Where are you? We have to talk."

"I agree. I want to talk too. That's why I called."

"Come home, I'll make a pot of coffee."

"Jeanne I can't come home tonight."

"Why not?" The disappointment in Jeanne's voice was evident.

"I have a meeting at 10:00 tomorrow morning with Charles and Edith Montgomery. I need to get some sleep."

"A meeting with the Montgomerys; yes of course, that is important. You do need to get some sleep." While Jeanne was still disappointed, she understood. She knew just how important the Montgomerys were to my business.

"I'm sorry, but I do. The Montgomery account is important for both of us."

"I know Michael. When can you come home?"

"I'm sure I'll have a few details to attend to after the meeting. Why don't you plan on seeing me around 2:00."

"Okay, will you want some lunch?"

"I doubt that I'll have time to eat so a sandwich would be nice."

"I have some ham. I'll have a nice ham and cheese sandwich for you."

"Thank you Jeanne."

"Michael, I really am sorry about everything that's happened."

"I am too Jeanne. We'll talk about it tomorrow afternoon."

"I'm so glad you're coming home. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"Michael, I'm hoping that tomorrow afternoon you'll give me a chance to show you just how much I love you."

"Jeanne?"

"Baby, I've neglected you. I don't understand why, but I promise you that you'll never again be neglected."

"We'll talk tomorrow."

"Yes of course."

"Jeanne, it's late. I need to get back to my motel and go to bed."

Once again deflated Jeanne said, "Yes of course. I understand. We'll talk tomorrow afternoon."

"We will. Good night Jeanne."

"Good night Michael. I love you."

"I love you too Jeanne."

"Do you Michael? Do you really?"

"Jeanne, considering everything that's happened I think I'm the one who should be asking that question."

There was a brief silence and then Jeanne said; "Yes you're right. Michael I really am sorry. I can't tell you how ashamed I am about the way I've handled all of this."

"Good night Jeanne. We'll talk tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes of course, you need to get to bed. Good night Michael." Jeanne paused. After a moment she said; "Michael I really do love you."

"I know that Jeanne. I love you too. Good night."

"Good night Michael."

I ended the call, put my cell phone away, walked quickly back to my office and got my car. Once I was in my motel room I stripped off my clothes, brushed my teeth and got into bed.

As I was falling asleep I recalled something that Jeanne said during our telephone conversation. "I can't tell you how ashamed I am about the way I've handled all of this." That bothered me. She didn't say that she was ashamed about what she did; she said that she was ashamed about how she'd handled it.

Realizing that there was nothing that I could do about it at that moment, I put it out of my mind and closed my eyes. I was tired. Sleep came instantly.