Physical Therapy

"I'm sorry, I..."

"Shhh, just enjoy it! I'm probably okay... and if not, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.."

"Yeah," I said, smiling, "I guess not!" I tried to imagine what my Mom would think. She'd probably just be excited about a grandchild, early or not.

"But I think I will see the doctor about some pills. In the meantime, you need to get some rubbers!"

"Me? I can't just go into the grocery store and buy some!"

"Why not?"

"Okay then, you do it!"

"Hmmm, I see your point."

Chapter 13

Well, Susan didn't get pregnant, and she went on the pill, but we still needed some rubbers for a few weeks until she got on schedule and the pills took effect. For some reason we were both ridiculously paranoid about someone seeing us buying rubbers, so we ended up shopping at an adult boutique, miles away from where we'd see anyone we knew. And the other customers were buying all sorts of perverted stuff, so we weren't embarrassed just buying rubbers. And some lingerie. And some lotions and oils. And a couple of books. And a vibrator. Okay, I guess we got a little carried away, but this was a whole new world for both of us.

So we entered our "sexual experimentation" phase. Susan wasn't very experienced, and I wasn't experienced at all, so it was a learning process. A really fun learning process. Once we got some rubbers, I was able to last longer than five seconds, but I still couldn't get Susan to orgasm without using my fingers. The way our bodies fit together, there was almost no contact with her clitoris during intercourse. She insisted it was fine, she enjoyed just making me come, but I wasn't having any of that. I wanted to try cunnilingus, but the thought of it grossed Susan out, and I wasn't too sure about it either. Several times I had headed that way, and she'd put the kibosh on the idea. But I was persistent, and one night...

"Stan, gross! Don't, you don't have to... oohhhh.... Oh my God!"

After that, she never objected, although I think she still thought it was gross. On the other hand, I thought it was great! The taste and smell didn't bother me at all, in fact I quickly became addicted. And she definitely didn't have any trouble coming that way.

So that's the way we passed the time while we were planning the wedding. Well, Susan and her Mom planned the wedding. I played baseball, and honed my cunnilingus skills.

Long before the wedding, though, came September, and with it the Major League roster expansion. So I got called up to Seattle. I'll never forget my first game. I started (we were out of contention, and they were "having a look" at the young guys,) batted second and played center. My first at bat, I was shaking like a leaf. I was really nervous, and I wondered what I was doing there, feeling like I didn't belong. The catcher laughed at me, and the umpire told me to take it easy. But when the pitch came in, I just reacted, and drilled it up the gap in right center for a double. I felt better after that. A couple of innings later, someone on the A's hit a sinking liner to left center, and I made a "shoestring" catch. My hat had come off as soon as I broke on the ball, and when I trotted back to get it, I realized that I'd covered a hell of a lot of ground. Susan was sitting behind the plate with the players' families, a few rows back from where the scouts were sitting. She heard one of them say, "Man, that guy can move!" when I made that catch. Maybe I was faster than I thought. When they had the stopwatch on us, I was in the middle of the pack, but when the ball is hit... I don't think anybody else on the team would have caught that one.

Chapter 14

My apartment lease would be up as soon as the season was over, so Susan and I started looking for a rental house. We wanted something with some spare rooms we could use as offices. One for her to do physical therapy in, the other for me to do engineering consulting. She was pushing me to be prepared if the baseball thing didn't work out, saying that she'd handle the business side of it. Realistically I didn't figure I'd be doing anything real before the end of next season, but by then maybe I'd be prepared.

We found a suitable place, and christened it, making love on the carpet before there was one stick of furniture in the place. It was close enough to Mrs. Salyer's for Susan, and far enough away for me. I like her mom, but I wouldn't really want to live next door.

The consulting thing got a kick-start when I showed my manager some printouts from a program I had written to track stats. He showed them to the GM, who was interested in an expanded version of the program. Of course, back then there were no laptops or internet, so making something that was usable from the dugout was a challenge.

I gave Susan all the credit for my speedy recovery, and a number of my teammates ended up coming to her for physical therapy. So we had several modest streams of dollars coming in. Then, I signed my contract for the upcoming season. Instead of an agent, we hired a lawyer to negotiate with the team. With input from Susan and our families, we ended up with enough upfront money so we'd be alright if I got hurt, with a salary plus performance bonuses that I was pleased with without feeling greedy.

So here's the part where we live happily ever after, right? We got married, we were hopelessly in love, we were set financially, the sex was great, we both had fulfilling careers... And that was enough... for a while.

I guess the trouble started after the first baby. I've never seen anything as beautiful as my wife when she's pregnant. The joy on her face, the swollen belly... the really large breasts. And then when her milk came in, I was really in heaven. But although Susan seemed happy to be pregnant, she saw herself as fat and ugly. After our son was born, when the weight didn't magically come back off, she got even more depressed. I tried to tell her that I thought she was beautiful, but she could not accept that from me. With a new baby, she didn't go on the road with me anymore, and she stopped working for a while. And despite the fact that I can't think of a more important job than being a mother, she felt like she wasn't doing anything worthwhile, contributing to her depression.

The physical distance of being on the road seemed to be mirrored by the growing emotional distance between us. She got pregnant again, despite the fact that we hardly ever had sex, and her weight grew. We used to enjoy dining out and being active. Tennis, golf, racquetball. But now she was always on a diet, so she didn't want to eat out. And she wasn't in shape to play sports, and she didn't want to be seen at the gym or the pool anyway. So we slowly evolved into having separate lives.

She was depressed, and I was depressed. I was depressed because she wasn't happy, and anything I did only seemed to make it worse. Then my depression got worse when I had the first significant injury of my career. It was my throwing shoulder. Nowadays I'd have a relatively routine operation, but back then it was a scary procedure. So it was time to make a decision, and we'd always made decisions together.

"It's up to you. It's your career."

"It's our life. Forget about my arm, my career, your career, the kids. What would your ideal life be like? What would make you happy?"

"I... I can't imagine being happy. I can't remember what it's like, let alone how to get there."

"When were you happy? What was happening then?"

"I... It was just you and me. You and me against the world."

"And what were we doing?"

"It didn't matter what we were doing, as long as we were together."

"Okay, how about we postpone any decision making. Let's see if your Mom can take the kids, and let's take off, just you and me."

So, we took off in the car, no reservations (so to say), no particular destination. And the change in my wife was startling. Now, I wasn't really expecting sex. I was hoping for some intimacy, the closeness that had evaporated over the years. But my prayers were answered, I got it all in spades. We made love three times a day for a week and a half. That pretty much answered my questions.

So I retired, rather than have the risky surgery. I can throw well enough to play catch with my boy, I just can't perform anywhere near major league level. Our investment manager had bought an insurance policy against a career-ending injury, and we already had plenty of money anyway. These days I do an occasional consulting project, if it looks fun, but I spend most of my time with my wife and kids. We're in couples therapy, and I feel bad for people who can't afford it. We feel like we can't afford doing without. I refuse to go back to the way things were.

"I'm glad you're finally done with that stupid project!"

"Hon, it was less than two months."

"Yeah, but I've accumulated a whole list of Honey-do's. Here, I printed it out for you."

It was one line, repeated over and over, filling the page, saying

"Make love to your wife!"