Ann: The Married Years Ch. 35

Terrence saw where things were going. The evidence was clear. The next credit card statement revealing how often she was ordering; the box in the closet showed just how many books she was reading. Somehow the housework was still getting done, but there was a discernable difference in her disposition. She was short tempered in the mornings, but remarkable calm in the evenings.

If anything, that was the opposite of her normal behavior. She was a morning person to the extreme, kissing and loving on her family when they went out the door. Then she'd tire during the day, sometimes becoming cranky. Now, she was moody and irritable when she got up. And while she wasn't as bad when he came home, she wasn't herself. He would have wondered if she was having an affair, but the books in the box told a different story.

What had changed was the frequency of their sex. It went from seldom, to almost non-existent. While he first thought it was likely a phase, every time he saw that more books were added to her growing collection, he took pause. Something was up. He just didn't know what.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Terrence stewed about it for almost a week. Any attempt he made to get close to his wife physically was met with rejection. He was sure a lot of it was in his head. But there was no denying that things were different. He also had enough smarts to know she was depressed. He wanted to get them help, but he didn't know at first where to start.

After another failed attempt at a morning lovemaking session before heading off to work, he decided to confide in Leah, his secretary at work. She was a trusted family friend, recommended for the job by Janie. Leah had lost her previous job a few years back at the same time his secretary had quit. Janie saw it as fate.

He was nervous about hiring her at first. The idea of being the boss of one of his wife's close friends was a concern, but it was quick resolution to a sudden problem. In the end Janie was right; it had worked out wonderfully. He and Leah worked amazingly well together, and she had become a sounding board for him whenever things in his personal life piled up to the point he thought he'd explode.

Usually it involved the kids though. This was the first time he confided in her about something regarding Janie, and it was a huge risk. Still, he was concerned about her, and he felt confident Leah would be helpful just by listening.

"She needs fucked," Leah said bluntly after he'd cautiously told her what was going on.

As usual, he'd spent hours going over in his head what to say and how to say it, wanting to get the words right; wanting to convey his thoughts intelligently. And frankly, he hoped to paint his loving wife in a better light than what he was feeling about her at the moment.

And just as usual, Leah cut straight to the chase. She was a 'say what's on my mind' kind of woman, and that's one of the reasons they worked well together. There was no mincing of words. Mind you, she was never one to just offer her opinion unsolicited. But if asked, she wasn't going to hold back her answer, no matter the consequences.

"What?" he laughed at her pointed response.

"Did you lose your balls? Did she take them away from you?"

"No. What are you talking about?"

"She wants sex!"

"You think I don't know that? I do too. That's why I brought this up. The problem is getting her to do it. I tried again this morning and I got rejected... again! I just don't understand what brought this on."

"She's become a bored housewife that feels like she's not needed any more. It's the empty nest thing, Terrence."

"Empty? The nest isn't empty. There are two messy teenage boys living in the nest."

"Yes. But Becky's back at school and that's who she related to the most. They're like sisters. Plus, you said as much yourself... Adam and Scott are never home. They're more self-sufficient every day."

"I know, but --"

"But nothing. They're out, all the time. And why is that?"

"School, friends, sports."

"No, they're out because she lets them use the van. HER van. She suddenly has all this free time on her hands, all this freedom from not having to be there for them all the time, and what does she get for it... a jail sentence."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"She's stuck in that big house, Terrence... miles away from anybody. She can't leave physically, so she's leaving mentally. The books are just an escape. Can't you see that?"

"An escape from what? Me? I'm trying to be there for her, and she pretty much pushes me away. This morning it was literal. She shoved me toward the door."

"She's not pushing. She's searching."

"For what, another man?"

Leah shrugged and nodded. "Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. She's likely not looking to stray, but she's searching for someone you're not right now. You've just got to show her you're what she's looking for."

"That I'm what?"

"Damn, Terrence, don't be so dense. All those kinds of books have one thing in common; a hot, sexy man that comes into a woman's life and takes her away from all her problems."

"I can be hot and sexy," he laughed. "But just how am I supposed to take her away?"

"Get ahead of it. Like I said, she needs fucked... and from what you're telling me, she needs it in the worst way. You need to get her to focus on the sex, and not so much the romance."

"Okay, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. She's reading crappy romance novels for a reason. She wants the romance."

"Sweetie, you're missing my point entirely. First of all, you're one of the most romantic men I've ever met. My god I wish I could get Bernie to be more like you. You always remember the important days. You cook for her. You bring her flowers for no reason. You give her nights out with the girls. You are incredibly romantic and she knows it."

"Fine, I'm a swell guy," he said sarcastically. "So why do I feel like I'm not doing enough? What's the point I'm missing then?"

"What's missing is the sex! You've got the romance part covered. You've got to get her interested in sex again."

"I know that. But all she seems to want to do is read. You should have seen her this morning. She couldn't wait for me to leave. And once I did, she's immediately on the couch with one of those fucking books in her hand."

"And just how do you know that?"

"I looked through the window, that's how!"

"So you spied on her."

"Leah, I'm desperate. Don't get me wrong, I'm not proud of it. But at least it confirmed she's not waiting for some guy to come over and pound her brains out as soon as I'm gone."

"Good. Because that's what you're going to do."

"And just how am I supposed to do that? She looked at me like a leper this morning. What am I supposed to do, make her stop reading?"

"No. Absolutely not. You just got done saying she's always loved to read. Now she's got her passion back for it, and you want to take it away?"

"I don't want to take away anything. But I don't want to keep dealing with this. She's obviously depressed, Leah. What am I supposed to do? Counseling?"

"Maybe, but I don't think it's as serious as you're making it out to be. It's been what, a couple of months since she started this?"

"Yeah."

"And the moods aren't every day?'

"Actually, Monday's are the worst, like today."

"Because she hasn't read anything all weekend, and she wants to get back to it. It all makes sense."

"Okay, none of this makes any sense."

Leah stopped, staring at him. He wasn't her boss at the moment, although he rarely acted like it anyway. He was her friend. Their friend. She'd shied away from telling him anything about his wife for fear of breaking any confidences Janie might have shared with her. But the lost look in his eyes told her she needed to take a chance. She was certain their marriage wasn't on the line, but they were struggling to connect. And once you start in that direction, you need to curb it before it does become an issue. With that on her mind, she knew what she had to do.

"It makes sense to me. Mainly because it happened to me and Bernie," she said as she reached into her bottom desk drawer. She pulled out a book, still encased in a plastic wrapper. It was similar to the ones Janie had been reading, complete with a cheesy title and a provocative picture on the front, although it seemed even more risqué than what he recalled seeing in the box at home. "Here, take this," she said, softly tossing it to him.

"What is it?"

"One of my romance novels," she giggled.

"So the answer to her reading too many romance novels is to give her a romance novel?"

"That one's different."

"How?"

"It's X-rated," she winked.

"Say what?"

She snickered again and pulled another one from her purse. "I like to read too. And this exact thing happened to me. Well, not as bad as Janie's doing it right now. But I had read a couple of them, and I was kind of bitchy in bed one night while I was reading another one, and I told Bernie he should be more like the man in that one. So, he gets out of bed and pulls out an old, tattered novel and throws it at me. He had it hidden in his sock drawer. And he said I should be more like the women in that book."

"You're kidding... tell me you're kidding!"

Shaking her head, she grinned wide. "Nope... I was stunned at first, because he'd been keeping this secret from me. But then I read it, out of curiosity, of course."

"Well of course."

"Terrence, I don't think I've ever loved Bernie more than I do now. That book opened my eyes. One, I love reading erotica. It's so much hotter than those dime-store novels ever could be. And the good ones are just as romantic."

"Where do you get them?"

"Adult book stores. Oddly, the sell adult books there," she laughed.

"No kidding," he groaned sarcastically.

"I'm just saying they don't just have books with the dirty pictures in them, although I've purchased a few of those too... for Bernie. They have novels, but they're sexually explicit ones. Anyway, I got hooked, and I realized he was right. If I wanted him to be more like the men from my books, it might be a good idea to be more like the women from his. So we compromised."

"And you're saying that's what I should do."

"You know what... take this one instead," she said, handing her the book she'd been reading. "This one is really good. In fact, it's all about your wife."

"It is?"

"Uh huh... It's one of my favorites, and the plot is eerily similar to what you're going through right now. In fact, that gives me an idea for how you can do this to spark things. Do you trust me?"

"You've never given me a reason not to."

"And I never will," she winked.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Janie placed the book she just finished with the ones in left side of the box, picking up the next one from the unread pile to the right. Of course, the pile on the right wasn't as big. It was the last book in the stack. She'd placed another order that would be arriving on Monday, so she wasn't concerned that this was the only book she had left to read. With it being Friday, she'd be able to finish the new one and head into the weekend. She wasn't necessarily looking forward to the two days away from her obsessive hobby, but she'd put a smile on her face and make the best of the time she'd spend with her family.

Clutching the paperback, nothing seemed strange to her as she made her way to the living room. Really, why should it? It was just another book from her growing library, and she excitedly sat down in her favorite place on the couch, her legs stretched out sexily as she leaned back against the fluffy pillow.

Putting her glasses in place she read the title. "Reclaiming Lindsay?" she said out loud a second time. "Why don't I remember ordering this?"

Opening the paperback cover, she sat up straight, a shriek of horror escaping as she saw the penmanship she'd recognize anywhere. She'd often wondered just how he'd learned to write so perfectly, although she knew. He was an architect, after all. The lines were fluid and even, the blue ink flawless as it met the page. She could close her eyes and envision him writing in it. Then again, she couldn't close them. They were wide open, the shock that her secret had been discovered making her heart race.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Janie,

I know what you've been doing.

I've tried many times over the last month to reach out to you; each time only to be spurned by you and your insatiable need to read. I'm not complaining. My love for you is too strong and too deep to simply give up on you because of some new vice you've discovered. But it does hurt that you'd rather get lost in the pages of a two-dollar novel than between the sheets of our bed with me, especially when I've tried to show you I've wanted you so much.

At first, I could only conjecture that you were looking for some ideal of what a man should be to you. What other reason could there be for you to ignore the one living in your house; the same man that has loved and cherished you for over twenty years. Then it hit me. The reason isn't as important to me as the facts. You're simply searching for something.

I've read the drivel contained in your books; all twenty-eight of them. I've taken two books from your box to work every day, reading them just like you have. It's all I've done in my spare time, after you've gone to bed far too early, leaving me alone to wonder. While I may not have poured over each word like you have, I've certainly gained a perspective. I considered it research, trying to find out where my soul mate was running off to in her mind.

While at first it all seemed so innocent, it became clearer to me with each one I read that they all have the same theme. A woman seeks something, and the answer always comes in the package of a strong, virile, handsome man. It's certainly something to dream about.

I have dreams too, Janie. But they all include you. I want what is mine back, and namely, that's you. Yes, I want to make you happy. I've tried very hard. At the same time, you must know that I also have needs, just like you do. I have a feeling they're not that different. But we're about to find out if that's true.

Here are your instructions. If you want to save our marriage, you will follow them. Call the office and ask for Leah. Tell her your name is Lindsay Ashcroft, and you need to make an appointment with me. Don't ask questions. Don't press the issue. Just call, tell her your name, and make the appointment. Once you've done that, I want you to read the first two chapters of this book. No peeking ahead. No skimming. Read it just like you have all the other books you've purchased. If you follow these instructions, and you pay close attention to the details of the book, you'll know what to do when you finish the second chapter.

Your loving husband,

Terry

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Janie broke down, his words searing, burning a hole into her heart. It took her over a half-hour to calm down enough to stop crying. Then she did what she'd grown to hate of late. She re-read the note he'd written on the inside of the book.

Like him, she looked for a new perspective. He wasn't angry, or accusing. His words were measured. It was just like him. She smiled, thinking he must have gone through a hundred drafts before actually committing his pen to the page in the book. She was angry with herself for pushing him away; recalling times when it was suddenly obvious all he wanted was to be with her.

"I turned down sex to read about it," she whispered as she read the note a third time. At least that's what she thought. The scenes from the novels she'd become enamored with were passionate, even a little steamy. But she knew nothing yet of what sex could be on the printed page.

Thinking she needed to make things up to him, she did as she was instructed. It felt almost like an order, the only ominous thing in his note asking if she wanted to save her marriage. Was it really in trouble? Was he telling her that? The idea that he might leave her filled her with fear. That he'd given her an out, just by complying with what he was requesting, seemed foolish to ignore.

Taking the book with her, she walked to the kitchen, her hands shaking as she held the phone. She misdialed twice, having to hang up because her finger couldn't find the right buttons. Finally getting through, she swallowed hard as she waited for the receptionist to answer.

"Leah Martin, please," she said softly, practically disguising her voice.

"One moment," the young girl replied, dutifully doing her job.

She waited, listening to the soft jazz playing in the background. She found herself swaying to the melody, closing her eyes as she breathed deeply. It startled her when the music stopped. "Leah Martin."

"Hi Leah," she answered, opening the book in a panic to read her name once again. "This... this is Lindsay Ashcroft."

Leah had to fight to keep her composure, but she couldn't totally suppress the lilting laugh that came out. "Good morning Mrs. Ashcroft. How may I help you?"

"I need to make an appointment with... Mr. Forbes."

"And what would this be regarding?"

Unsure of what the book would tell her, she went with her gut. "I'd really rather not say."

"Very well. Let me check his calendar." There was a long pause. Janie could hear pages flipping in the background on the phone. "He actually just had something open up for this afternoon. He could meet with you at four o'clock."

"Uh, I'm not sure I can make that."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Ashcroft, but that's all I have available over the next several weeks. Mr. Forbes is a very busy man."

"I see." Janie's mind scrambled. She didn't have a car. It was already going on noon, what with him leaving late for work. And that revelation stung. He had stayed home that morning in another failed attempt to woo her. And she knew he wanted sex. She wanted to read instead.

It had been a calculated move on his part. He knew she was down to her last book. And he knew what book it would be. He'd taken the one she was supposed to have left in her unread pile; replacing it with the one Leah had given him. Then he'd stayed home, knowing he was delaying her chance to partake in the vice, as he'd called it. He tried to lure her into bed, going so far as to tell her point blank that he wanted sex. She feigned a headache in response.

That too stung her. She'd lied to him, and now she was desperately seeking forgiveness. The only way to do that was to do what he'd told her to do.

"Mrs. Ashcroft?"

She was startled again, lost in her thoughts. "Yes?"

"Do you want the appointment?"

"Yes, please. I'll be there," she replied, unsure of how she'd get there. It didn't matter. All that mattered at that moment was for her to get off the phone and read. It was the same reaction she'd had most mornings, only this time with a different purpose. She wasn't reading to get away. She was reading to get her life back; and perhaps to save her marriage.

The beginning of the book was much like all of the others she'd been reading. The heroine was introduced, along with some unresolved issue in her life that was making things seem hopeless. In this case, the female lead was one Lindsay Ashcroft, a lonely housewife who was considering a divorce. She'd become bored with her sex life, and she was convinced there was something, or someone, more desirable out there for her.

The first chapter dealt almost entirely of Lindsay looking to other avenues for sexual gratification. She went to clubs and to bars during the day, trying to hook up with random men while her husband was working. His job was the biggest part of her problem, in her mind. He worked long hours, leaving early in the morning and not coming home until late at night.