Four Friends (41 page)

There had been quite a few other nasty splits. People did unconscionable things to each other. One of Gerri’s coworkers had come home from a business trip to find her house bare and her bank accounts empty, spouse missing. There was a couple in the neighborhood who had thundering fights and frequent separations, having actually been divorced and remarried to each other twice. Phil worked with a couple of men who had cheated, one had a child with another woman.

Sonja came to Gerri’s mind. Her meltdown brought out an entirely new human being, stronger and healthier than the one before. But it was BJ who tipped the scales to the side of the truly catastrophic. She was the poster child for the worst-case scenario. The best that small family could hope for was survival, coping in the face of tragedy.

Relationships floundered—it was the rule rather than the exception. Some kicked and squirmed and fought right up to the death, some recovered. It was all in what you did, whether you created a break in the rope or a knot to hang on to.

Gerri actually enjoyed her long and revealing lunch with Elizabeth. It was a pity they couldn’t do it again, but they both knew they couldn’t. It would be their one and only meeting. Though she couldn’t think of anything else she wanted to know from Elizabeth, certainly something would come to mind later, and she’d have to let it go. That part of their lives was now complete. Gerri was certain that even if she dropped dead that very evening, Phil wasn’t ever going back to Elizabeth. He’d tried to fill the festering hole inside him, but it hadn’t worked. It hadn’t made him happy. No, if Gerri suddenly fell off the planet, Phil would carry on. But the next woman in his life would not be Elizabeth. Gerri had suffered pretty dramatically for a few months, but she now knew Phil had been torn up about what he’d done for a few years. The meeting with Elizabeth verified it.
It wasn’t exactly flattering.

* * *

On her way home, Gerri stopped off to see Joyce Arnold in her clinic.

“What are you doing here?” Joyce asked.

“I’m not sure about the hormones,” Gerri whispered. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

“Sure,” Joyce said, leaving her scheduled patients for a quick consult, leading the way to her office. “What’s up?” she asked, sitting behind her cluttered desk.

“I wonder—is it possible I’m getting too much?”

“Any symptoms? Are you feeling all right? Why are you so concerned?”

“I feel fine, actually. But last weekend I went to Phil’s little rented guesthouse to have a big fight with him, and I almost killed him with the wildest sex I’ve had in twenty years.”

“Oh,
really,
” Joyce said, smiling mischievously. “And you think I did that to you?”

Gerri scooted forward. “Just how powerful is all that cream?” she asked.

Joyce laughed and shook her head. “It can kick start a dead battery, but after that you have to do all the driving.” She grinned. “Things going better at your house or were you just slumming?”

“Cute,” Gerri said.

“It’s only partly the hormones, Gerri. I told you, if you don’t use it, you lose it. That seems to be the rule of thumb for most body systems, from muscles to brains. Most women, once they get reacquainted with their sex drive, don’t use the testosterone cream anymore. If you think Phil’s life is in danger, you could use a small amount every other night, but chances are it’ll be something you keep in the back of the drawer for emergencies. How was the vagina? Scratchy? Sore?”

“Like old times,” Gerri said with a shrug.

“Ah. Nice.” Joyce stood up. “Stick with the estrogen and progesterone—it’s a low dose and no reason you should flash and whimper and wail. Medically speaking, we’re dealing with menopause much more intelligently these days.” She shook her head and laughed. “What did I tell you about women in their fifties? They can really get a second wind.”

“I’m not fifty! Yet.”

“Well, then, Phil better look out! I take it he’s still functioning?”

“Oh, yes. He’s always been good at that.”

“Well, that’s a relief. But when and if he hits that predictable slump, we can deal with that, too.”

“Every other ad on TV is about helping men get it up. Why aren’t there ads for women?”

“I can’t answer that,” she said. “A lot of women don’t want help, they just want to be set free. But you’re right—we should educate each other a little better than we do.” She smiled. “Welcome back. Enjoy yourself. Now, if you have no other concerns besides wild sex, I have patients waiting.”

“Sure. Thanks for squeezing me in.”

“You know, you actually look better. Hmm. I think it’s a draw between vitamin B12 and orgasms, which one puts more color in your cheeks.”

On her way home from the doctor’s office, Gerri went to the mall and bought all new underwear.
All
new. Some of it on the provocative side.

Gerri had gone to her bedroom at about eight, leaving Matt in the family room, hooked on his favorite television show. She took a long soak in the tub, relaxing in a way she felt she hadn’t in years. She thought about the honest conversation she’d had with Joyce. At her doctor’s appointments for the past ten or more years Joyce had asked questions about everything, including, “Sex still okay?”

And Gerri’s response had always been the same. “Fine.” Because she was fine with it. But she had never added the rest of the information. “We hardly ever have sex anymore.” That would have sent up a flag.
I guess I was one of the women who just wanted to be set free.

It was after nine when Gerri came out of her room wearing nice slacks and a crisply pressed blouse. Jed wasn’t home from work yet, Jessie had a girlfriend over and they were giggling in the bedroom behind closed doors.

Gerri knocked on the door and when she opened it, the two girls were a little wild eyed and stirred up—looking guilty of something. “Are you doing bad things?”

“No!” both girls exclaimed.

“Hmm. I don’t think I believe you. But I have to go out on a work call,” she said. “I could be back in fifteen minutes or four hours, so don’t try anything. You are not to go out. Understand?”

“Sure, Mom,” Jessie said.

“I have my cell phone.”

Matt was in the family room devouring a bag of Cheetos. “I have a call. Business. You okay here by yourself?” she asked.

“Isn’t Jessica upstairs?” he asked without looking away from the TV.

“She is, but you’re too old for a babysitter, so that leaves you on your own. You going to behave?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Don’t wipe your orange fingers on the couch. I have my phone. I’ll leave a note for Jed.”

“Why bother?” Matt asked. “He has nookie-nookie with Tracy till two in the morning.”

“Gross,” she said, mimicking his typical response to suggestions of romance.

Five minutes later she pulled up to the guesthouse. When Phil opened the door, she walked into his arms, planting her lips on his. A moment of shock passed before his arms went around her and he fell into her kiss like a man who wanted to be drowned. Consumed. Without letting her go, without breaking their kiss, he pulled her inside and slammed the door, immediately pinning her against it, pressing her so solidly against the hard wood he could feel every curve of her body. And then his lips slid to her neck, his hands to her hips, rocking her against him.

“How’d you get free of the kids?” he asked hoarsely.

“I said I had a work call. It kind of feels like an emergency.”

“I’m good with emergencies,” he said.

“You were taking a big chance, you know,” she whispered. He lifted his head. “Telling me you didn’t want us to be how it was, but how it should be.”

He ran fingers through the hair at her temple, his hand cradling the back of her head, bringing her mouth against his again for a deeper taste. “This isn’t like you,” he said.

“I want it to be,” she answered.

“This isn’t because....” His question trailed off and when he couldn’t finish, he just kissed her again.

“Because what?” she asked, tugging his shirt out of his jeans.

“Because I asked for more of you?”

She laughed. “No. I’ve never been a good fake.”

He started to unbutton her blouse while she ran her hands up under his shirt, and they kissed again, hard and hot, pressed together so tightly she could feel his excitement against her. She could almost feel the thundering climax building inside her. He opened her blouse and put his lips against the top of her breast above the line of her bra. Then with a finger, he pulled down the bra. “Hmm,” he said. “New bra.”

“New panties, too,” she said, nibbling his ear.

“You’re not afraid I’ll have a heart attack and drop like a stone?”

“No.” She laughed, sucking on his ear, using her fingers to deftly open his pants. He had the bra unhooked and his mouth against an erect nipple. “We definitely have to keep the guesthouse,” she whispered, easing his zipper down. She slipped a hand past the waist of his boxers. “Or, at least the door.”

fifteen

BOB WANTED TO make Andy a nice dinner in his home, something special. He made sure she knew that his sister-and brother-in-law were out of town for a long weekend, so there was no pressure to go visiting. He told her they wouldn’t be disturbed. In fact, if they wanted to go for a late-night swim, they’d have the pool to themselves.

When Andy arrived, he fixed her a glass of wine and put out a little plate of cheese. There were wonderful smells coming from his compact kitchen. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” she said.

“I have.” He smiled. “Except, it’s only a casserole. The famous Uncle Bob casserole. A little of everything—a combination of chicken pot pie, shepherd’s pie and burritos.”

“Whoa,” she said, laughing. “It actually sounds—disgusting!”

“Doesn’t it? The kids love it. And the kids’ kids love it.”

“Can I stay the night?” she asked.

“Yes, you can.” He smiled. “Or, if you miss your bed, that’s okay. Or if you want both of us to miss your bed, that works, too.”

“You are so sweet.”

“I have something for you. I was going to wait till after dinner, but I can’t. Now, I want you to know that I don’t presume anything. This isn’t about pushing you, Andy. This is just about peace of mind.”

“What is it?”

“Sit tight.” He went to his bedroom and came back with a fat envelope. He handed it to her.

Andy looked at him while she opened it. She pulled out a thick sheaf of papers. She read the bold print on the top line.
Dissolution of Marriage.
“Bob?” she asked. “You got a divorce?”

“I called Wendy and told her we needed to finalize things. I promised her we’d always be good friends.”

“But...why?”

“I just wanted to make sure you understand. I don’t have any unfinished business. It doesn’t mean I expect anything from you, but—the way I feel about you, I didn’t want any legal connection to another woman, even if it’s just been friendship for years. This had to be taken care of.”

“Bob...” She gripped the documents and tears came to her eyes. “Oh, Bob.”

“Oh, Andy, I didn’t want to get you upset. Honest.” He got down on one of his bad knees and pulled the pages from her so he could hold her hands. “It doesn’t mean anything, honey. It’s not like I expect anything. It’s just—”

“My divorce isn’t final yet.”

“But it will be,” Bob said. “At least you’re getting it done. I don’t mean for me, but because it’s really finished. Have you even heard from him, Andy?”

“Bryce? No, nothing. That’s fine with me—but I’m sad he didn’t even get in touch to ask about Noel. I know they had their problems but still.”

“See—that’s in your past, and you’re bringing it to closure. Noel doesn’t need Bryce, so don’t worry about that. I thought I should bring closure to my situation, too. So you know there isn’t anything lingering. It’s just you. But, Andy, I’m not doing this so you feel obligated to me in any way. I did it to have it cleared up. There isn’t anything on my slate right now. Just you, for as long as—”

“But what if we decide to get married someday, down the road, after we’re sure we’ll stay as happy as we are? Are you opposed to that idea, after Wendy? After I’ve failed at marriage twice?”

“Andy, my relationship with you doesn’t bear any resemblance to what I had with Wendy. But you’ve been through a couple of rough marriages, so I understand that—”

“Bob, it’s taken all the willpower I have not to ask you to move in with me,” she said. “I’ve been just gutting it out because I know we have to give this some time. Those nights you do contract work and just go home to your own house so you can sleep fast and get up early? I hate those nights.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “Really, you mean that?”

“I do. And I think because of my bad track record, to keep you safe, we have to wait a while. But the way I feel right now—I don’t think I could possibly change my mind.”

He was a little stunned for a moment. Then he took her into his arms and held her close. “Oh, Andy,” he said breathlessly. “You just have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say something like that. I think you’re just plain crazy, but I love you so much.”

“Thank you for doing this for me. Just for my peace of mind. It means a great deal.”

He pulled back and grinned at her. “Want to go skinny dipping with a chubby old man?”

“I’d love to,” she said. “You’re sure no one’s around?”

“I kind of wish there was a chance of that,” he said with a laugh. “Even a security guard or something. They’d never believe it.”

“The only thing that matters is that you believe it. Tell me, Bob. Do you believe what I tell you is genuine? Do you believe I love you? That I expect to love you forever?”

“I do, honey,” he said. “I’m not even sorry it took me this long. If I’d known twenty years ago I was saving up for you, I’d have been more patient.”

* * *

Gerri couldn’t believe how much things had changed over the course of a few months. Phil moved home and his candidacy was announced. BJ told Andy her secret so that Sonja and Gerri wouldn’t have to guard it for her. Bob was doing even less contract work and sleeping a little later in the morning. George and Sonja were friendly, spending more time together and it appeared the neighborhood might be falling into some sort of new order. What started out in March as three marriages was now one and a half if you counted Sonja’s as the half, and it looked like it was only a matter of time before Andy and Bob made it official.