Talk at the Kitchen Table

Talk at the Kitchen Table

What two ordinary people might say

My wife tells me she likes my writing. I suppose it's as easy to feel about that the same way a woman might when their husband tells them they are beautiful; because he has to. Still, I believe she's being honest about it.

One thing she does mention in the LW genre is how that couldn't happen in real life. No matter, George Anderson, Big guy 33, Tx Tall Tales, just to name a very few of the greats, it doesn't matter. "Normal people don't do or say those things." She claims. I disagree, saying, "babe, it's happening EXACTLY like that somewhere on Earth as we speak about it." She shakes her head and gives me a look of pity. That doesn't bother me at all. We've been in love since we were 13 and we spent 32 years apart due to crazy circumstances (yes, I did write and publish a book about it. The fact that she holds love, trust and respect on such a high pedestal makes me love her even more. So, this one is for her, and the rest of you that find the dialogue between these couples somewhat 'unbelievable'.

Standing at the sink, drying our dinner dishes with, Deandra (Dee for short) washing, I was marveling at how beautiful she is, even after all these years. She turned her head and gave me an endearing look, that said 'I love you'. Then, Dee says, "Honey can we sit and talk for a bit?" Well, we always talked, so this wasn't new, but the tone of her voice is.

"Sure, baby. Let me go splash some water on my face and change into something more comfortable, okay?" Dee nods approval.

Upstairs, I start thinking about this talk and what it could entail. Dee and I met when we were 13 years old. Roller skating, of all places. I was supposed to be on a date with her cousin, and she was supposed to be her wingman (or was it wing-woman?).

It didn't work out too well for the cousin. We were a couple almost immediately, and stayed that way through school. At 18 we got a little stupid, embracing our perceived adulthood and freedom, and decided to take a break. She got pregnant after just one time with another guy, and we didn't even know until the fall, when we'd already committed ourselves to each other.

Two husbands for her, two wives for me, some kids for both of us, and 32 long years separated us until she found me on social media. What was intended to be catching up and hearing about the other's lives, became the same connection as we had all those years ago. It took six months before I saw her, as she was finishing her divorce and I was ending an engagement. Another year before she moved cross-country to live with me, and five more months until a very simple beach wedding.

There really is no other woman for me. I've tried. They can't compete, and yes, I did compare. She feels the same. Still, once her youngest flew the nest, things between us slowed down over time. Age, chemical imbalances and general malaise can do that to the best of us. Still we were fairly fit, she walked over seven miles a day on her job, and we were intimate almost once every week.

For the first twelve years anyway. Earlier, when menopause showed its ugly head, Dee was not in the mood. But she came back with a roar. Unfortunately, it was at a time where I was on the downslope. The blue and yellow pill helped, but there were side effects that really interrupted my day-to-day. That meant for the last two plus years, we were in a routine. No more spontaneity, rather scheduled once per week sex. And then it only took an upset stomach or tiredness to nix that.

Many could probably give us some tips. The thing is, we already know a lot of them. The tips, that is. To say we more than made up for the 32 years, during those first several, would be an understatement. We both craved the spontaneity, though and saying, "Okay, dear, it's Friday night," just wasn't very much fun. Of course it served as a relief, and we were both fully engaged, yet it was obvious that our days of tearing up the sheets were waning.

That is fine with me. In every other way, Dee and I gel. I am Devon by the way, Devon Peterson. We have fun doing just about anything, and considering our past, our sex lives were definitely not regretful. With plenty of other activities, clubs, our kids and grandchildren, we remained busy.

I came down the stairs, grabbing a beer and taking a seat at our kitchen table. Lisa is looking a little unsettled, even withdrawn if I'm good enough to read her expression. She has a hard cider which is surprising for a weeknight. I decide to stay quiet and let her start.

"Devon, you know I love you with everything I am," she says it as a statement. "I have some questions I want to ask you, and if you would please let me get it all out, then we can discuss it, alright?"

I nodded, taking a sip of the cold brew.

"Well, you know we've had a marvelous sex life. More than I could ever have hoped for, actually. On top of that, you are a wonderful husband; so loving and attentive. I feel your love inside me, every time you wrap your arms around me. Every time you do it for no reason at all. I only hope I'm as successful demonstrating my love for you."

The thing is, Dee never puts this much effort into 'dressing up' an upcoming conversation, so in a way, I'm already tipped off that this is huge. It's huge, and it's bad. I need the breaks she's taking to catch her breath, and my own silence to think. My brain is already in problem solving mode, like when I'm blindsided by a customer letting me know they're suddenly going to the competition.

"Anyway, I'm wondering how you might feel about my going out, once in a while? Not with you, not together, on my own."

She was sitting there waiting. I guess I would need to go with whatever I had. My wits didn't have time to catch up. "Are you asking if you came go somewhere without me, like to the grocery, or like a movie night?"

"Not like the grocery, Devon. Like a date night."

Oh, I see. "Oh, like a date with some of your girlfriends from work? Would you be gathering at someone's home, or going out for drinks and dancing, that sort of thing?"

She hadn't started it correctly, and I could see in her face, she's already trying to fix things. "Probably dinner sometimes, most times. Sometimes dancing and no, not with the girls."

She is working hard to make sure it seeps in. She still wasn't saying it, but the implication was out there now.

"You want to go out alone? Why would you do that? You know I would always go out with you even if it was something you liked and I didn't."

"Not alone, Devon."

Oh, I see, better. "Okay, not with me, and not with any girlfriends, plus you just said 'not alone', so what are we talking about here?" I wasn't about to provide the answer, she would need to say the words.

She sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. "With a man, Devon, okay. A man."

"Oh, I see." This is the extent to which I'm going to vocalize right now. Some hundred things I could ask right now are swimming around like tadpoles in my head. I resist that temptation for the moment. I need to gather more intel, before I speak.

"Is that all you have to say? I just told you...asked you, how you felt about me going out with another man? Don't you have some questions?"

"Yes. What the fuck!?"

Dee smiled. Both the advantage and the disadvantage here, was how well we knew each other. Maybe, my success in this 'talk' was about 50/50. I just provided her an opening, with the exact reaction she wanted...no was expecting.

"There we go." Honestly, I do not think she meant to allow that thought to escape her lips, but regardless, she isn't fazed or slowing down.

"Devon, relax. We can talk about this. I knew you'd respond this way. I'm pretty sure I would too, if the situation was reversed. You know I love everything about 'US'. Let me explain by asking a few questions, okay?"

My problem in the moment is having far too many approaches, too many plans of attack. Not being able to discern which would work best, kept me silent and when I didn't respond, so she took advantage by ploughing through.

"Do you agree we have the perfect marriage?" I nodded, still shuffling my mental deck. It pissed me off, because I'm usually witty and quick on the draw.

"And you agree with me that we are soul mates, and should be together forever?"

"Yes, but..." I could wait now longer. My mind is screaming at me, in the scene from a movie. That happened to me sometimes. This was Morgan Freeman in "Se7en" saying "Get everyone out of here now, you hear? John Doe has the upper hand, I repeat. John Doe has the upper hand."

She interrupted me anyway, "Good. I feel the same way. I love you with all my heart. So, let me ask you, if there is one area of our wonderful lives that has changed and is still changing, what do you think that is?"

She knew exactly what I thought. I needed to get this charade under control, now.

"You know what I think, Dee. Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not doing anything. We're having a chat. Just like we always do when we want to solve something. You're slowing down some. I'm not. That isn't anyone's fault. Certainly not yours. There's elements to our intimacy missing, and that isn't our faults either, certainly not anything we want or planned. We have sex, when we can. It's good. We share loving terms of endearment, and the little touches, hugs and kisses are just as wonderful as they have always been. What we lack is the excitement."

She paused, hard stop, hoping, I think, that my mind would catch up to her rant.

"I want to experience that excitement again. I yearn for it, but that said, I do not want to threaten or damage us. I'm asking what you think about me going out on dates. To have that excitement, for a few hours every, I don't know, week or every other week. The newness, the little thrill maybe dancing with a different partner, you know? I'm not talking about strictly sex with someone else, although I'm not so stupid as to believe a man wouldn't expect that at some point. Conversation, getting to know each other, and yeah, some close dancing now and again. That's what I'm asking."

I finally landed on a plan of action. She said 'a different partner'. That and what she said about the sex, all screamed one singular man, not a bunch of strangers. It struck me then, that in a way, she and whoever he was, were already partners. They may have even planned out this conversation together. At the very least, they'd already gotten to know each other, emotionally. Now I was also tasked with finding out how far they'd already gone.

"Who is he? What's his name?"

Her expression changed, drastically. "I'm not going to tell you. I know you. You will cause trouble; maybe get yourself tossed in jail." I could see she wasn't finished. "Plus, he's bigger than you."

"So, you've slept with him, then?"

I wish I was recording her face. The looks were bouncing all over the place. Now it is a look of horror. "What!?! NO! I didn't say..." dawning appeared. "I meant physically bigger, and stronger, and well, younger."

"Oh. Just great."

"Look, Devon, I don't want to hurt you. This isn't about us, it's about me. I don't even think it will last all that long. Maybe, it's just something I need to get out of my system."

I'd heard enough, and needed to jump in before she said something I couldn't forgive.

"Dee, if this conversation is going to keep on, tell me his name. We're not going to have this significant a talk, pretending the person we're discussing is a ghost. I'm not stupid."

Dee was running through the gambit of emotions now. She was stuck, and it was her own doing. I think she really thought, if she could frame this properly, she might garner my acceptance without having to give up the good parts. She was wrong.

"Alright, and I know you're not stupid. I'm sorry if I insulted you. I work with him. His name is Duke Austin."

I laughed out loud. I just couldn't help it, as Dee's face soured.

"He's English?" I asked, still chuckling.

"What?" more confusion on my bride's face. She rebounded quickly though. "Devon, I don't think this is the time or place for humor. I'm trying to be serious."

"But 'Duke' refers to English royalty."

"Okay, smart ass. I get it, haha. His first name is Duke."

"So you're telling me the slick talker who's seducing my wife, has parents who would name their own kid like that?"

Steam. That's what was about to escape Dee's ears. It's good she didn't have little bobbers like a tea kettle. "Damn it Devon. Stop it! He's not a slick talker, and he's not seducing me. He's a very nice man. We've been getting to know each other during our lunch hours, and no, before you ask, we've done nothing that wouldn't past the spouse test. Just talking. He's a bit younger; I guess 5-8 years and also married. His wife is frigid due to ovarian cancer and having her uterus removed. Sex hurts her now, so he goes without, because he loves her so much. Just this week he asked me for a favor, and could we maybe go out sometime, dinner and dancing."

"If he's not seducing you, then why isn't he asking your husband if he can take you out on a date?"

That took some wind out of her sails. She considered my question.

"Oddly, I agree with you on that. I don't think he meant any harm. In fact, I'm sure he'd be gentlemanly enough to do just that, but Devon, I didn't want you two face-to-face, until we talked. I mean, he's very much like you, and he wouldn't back down, just like you wouldn't if something was said and interpreted wrongly. I didn't want some macho contest. This isn't like that at all."

"Oh, but it is like that. You just said his wife can't have sex with him. He met you, liked you. Now he wants a relationship with a married woman. He's likely, not all that interested in just dinner and a movie. Have you kissed him yet?"

Now it really wasn't going her way. She contemplated her answer carefully. I could see she was wrestling with a little white lie, but she decided I'd see through it.

"On the cheek, twice." She said quietly.

"And how did you feel exactly when it happened?" I asked right away.

John Doe no longer had the upper hand. As determined as she was when we sat at the table, hesitation was now looming, and was that a streak of guilt?

"I suppose I...it felt good. God, I know that sounds so wrong. I'm sorry." I remain silent, just looking at her with expectation. The next few minutes would decide our future.

"I don't know. I miss that, you know? I know you know what I mean. I'm not looking to cause us problems or hurt you. If it did come down to intimacy, you could look the other way. It doesn't have to affect us at all. I'd make sure you were never less important than him. I'd never let that happen." It was hard to discern if she's trying to convince me, or herself.

"Okay," I interjected. She looked at me quizzically with a hint of hopefulness. She's wondering if I'm giving permission.

"You said everything I needed to hear. I believe you, so now we can discuss it. First, I can't stop you from doing whatever this leads to with this Duke character. I'm positive it will involve sex at some point, based on what you've already said. It's your body, plus you're already planning with him."

I pause for effect but continue before she has any chance to reply.

"If this happens, here's how it's going to affect me, and ultimately us. You're already deep into it, although you may not see it that way. You know a lot about him. Personal things, intimate even. He also knows things about you. The fact that you've talked about his wife, and about me, crosses a line in my mind. You're already having an emotional affair on some level. It doesn't sound irrevocable yet."

Pause. Breathe.

"As you two become more intimate, you'll automatically withdraw from me, even if he is a 'nice man' as you claim. Even if he doesn't build you up by being a good listener, then taking advantage of anything negative you happen to say about me. Even if he doesn't run me down, or say, "yeah I know exactly how you feel". Every relationship expands, or it ends. Those are the only two outcomes. With even less intimacy than we have now, we'll start living more like roommates, while your relationship with him will blossom out of comparison and necessity. We'll decline, while you two are inclining, regardless of your promise."

Dee was listening intently, looking for something in my words that would allow her to regain control.

"So, that's a given. Now the trouble for me is like a double edged sword. I could let you, as women say, 'just have this'. Oh, now I'm sure if this guy's motives are sincere, and let's say for a moment that he's telling the truth about his wife, you'll eventually get tired of each other, and you'll come back to live happily ever after. However, our relationship won't ever be as good as it was, or even as it is right now. So we'll fumble along with even less intimacy than we have now. Maybe it won't matter with our age, maybe it will. Maybe you'll be inclined to stray again."

"The rest of the first problem is, my equipment is on the fritz. I mean, if one of my power tools doesn't work, I go buy a new one. Obviously, I can't do that with a cock that won't stand up or stay up. Yes, we're both fit, and yes I still get looks from women in their thirties. That doesn't solve the issue. I can't, nor do I want to go get even with you, getting sex from some other woman. We're both going to be sixty next year, for god's sake. I feel like we should be planning retirement, not dates."

Dee made her error. Actually, she made another error, if you count sitting here having this discussion, in the first place.

"But I would come home to you and try..." I cut her off.

"Stop right there. Don't say it. I definitely do not want you coming home to try all the new things you've learned with HIM! That's only going to make it worse for me, it's not going to spice up our sex life, and you should know that. I don't want a pity fuck either. Even beyond that, if you two are doing it, I can't confirm you're using condoms. I'm too old to be getting an STD, so we would not be having any intimate contact, while the two of you are a thing.

That was the second thing. Besides all that, I'm a man. I can't help how I feel, any more than you can. I won't feel like he's borrowed something, I'll feel like he's taken something. I won't want to kiss you, because I'll constantly be reminded that you kissed him, or you had his dick in your mouth. I certainly won't want to have sex with you, even if you could prove having safe sex with him."

Crestfallen was the best way I could describe her look now. A singular tear rolled down her left cheek as the sadness overcame her. I wanted badly to go hold her like I always did when I sensed she was sad.

"But," I started. "That doesn't really solve your issue. You want something more. What I have to offer right now, is something less. It's not my fault, and you know it. How you're feeling isn't your fault, and I know that too. I'm willing to see a specialist. I'm willing to be more attentive. I'll even take you dining and dancing, and maybe play a little game where I sit in a corner and let some guys chat you up, as long as it doesn't end in a bar fight. I'm more than willing to provide you more of whatever you need.

On the other hand, if you do this thing you're asking, it's going to be the end of us. I just know it. I don't want that, and it makes me incredibly sad to think about it."

Dee was full on crying now. I stood and walked over to her, letting her nuzzle her head against my chest. I loved this woman. She'd hurt me tonight for sure. Maybe, she'd hurt me even worse in the near future. I certainly hope not. The prospect of not having her with me every day seems incredibly hopeless. We stay like this a long time, not saying anything, just immersed in our thoughts.