Two Reasons to Celebrate

Young and sassy are the words my husband use to describe me.  We are opposites.  He’s an introvert and I’m an extrovert.  He’s in his mid-fifties with grey sideburns but he still has the body and libido of a much younger man.  I’m in my late twenties and I’m trying to keep up with him.

We met last year when a mutual friend invited a group of people to Maui for a week of sun and fun.  Lorenzo didn’t go with anyone and nor did I.  We were immediately attracted to each other and for the rest of the vacation, we were inseparable.

A year and four months later, we are newlyweds.  For our honeymoon we went on a 12-day Mediterranean cruise which ended in Venice, the city of love.  After we spent two days there, we headed to Milan to visit his family.  We figured we might as well since we were in Italy.

I must say that although I half-expected it, it still came as a bitter disappointment when his parents made it painfully obvious that they didn’t approve of me.  No doubt my color had more to do with it than my age.  His teenage children from his previous marriage were polite but I could tell that they didn’t approve either.  Being married to me meant that their father wasn’t going to return to Milan or reconcile with their mother.

I feel sorry for them.  When my parents divorced and my father remarried, I was upset.  I wasn’t nice to my step-mother, Violet because she ruined all chances of my parents getting back together.  It took years for me to get over that disappointment and be civil to Violet.  Now, she and I are friends.  And I can see how happy she makes my father.  I hope that one of these days, Lorenzo’s children will come around too.  He’s the love of my life and his happiness means the world to me.

Lorenzo and I ended up spending only two days in Milan and then we were off to Rome.  I loved Rome–the people, the food and the piazzas.  On our last night, we visited Piazza Navona and enjoyed a couple of gelato as we admired Bernini’s perfectly lit Fountain of the Four Rivers.

Lorenzo and I were sorry to leave Italy but we were excited about beginning our life as a married couple and moving into our new home overlooking Central Park.  It took a while for me to get back into a routine because of jet-lag.

Ten weeks have passed since our honeymoon and I’m standing in front of my enormous closet, looking at the designer clothes, bags and shoes I brought back from Milan and Rome.  As I look through the outfits a smile tugs at my lips.   I can’t wait to see Lorenzo’s face when I tell him the good news tonight over a home cooked dinner.  We have two wonderful reasons to celebrate.

That’s right.  We’re going to have twins.  Whether they are boys or girls or one of each, we won’t know for some time or maybe, we’ll decide to wait to find out.  Already, I’m making plans to turn the extra bedroom into a nursery and I’m just dying to go shopping for the babies.

The chiming of the clock reminds me that I have to get dinner ready.  I close the closet doors and leave the bedroom.  I’m going to make sure that tonight is a very special night for Lorenzo.

I’ve been learning to cook Italian dishes thanks to Jamie Oliver.  I’m going to make tasty tuna meatballs with pasta and Caesar salad.  And for desert, what else but his favorite–pistachio gelato from our favorite neighborhood gelato place.

After dinner and when we’re relaxing in the living-room, then I will tell him that we’re going to have twins.  And then, we celebrate with a bottle of Martinelli’s Gold Medal non-alcoholic Sparkling Cider.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for Sunday’s word: closet and Monday’s word:  jet. If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Role-Play

My name is Ezra and I’m an Angolan woman married to Francisco, a Portuguese businessman.  We have been married for ten years.  We have two children, a boy named Bento and a girl named Mafalda.  We live in Luanda.  During the week, I’m at home alone because Rodrigo is at the office and the children are in school.  I’m a housewife and I love it.  I love taking care of my family.

From the time I was seven years old, I knew that I wanted to be a homemaker when I was older.  My mother, God bless her soul, was my inspiration.  I watched her work tirelessly and happily to take care of the home, my father, my siblings and me.  When I was old enough, I helped around the house.  She taught me how to cook and keep a clean house.  She told me that one day I would be a wife and it was best to start learning how to do things as early as possible.  Sadly, she didn’t live to see me get married or hold her grandchildren.  My father and my siblings were at my wedding.  They were happy for me and warmly welcomed Rodrigo into the family.  They weren’t upset that I married a European man instead of an African man.

Rodrigo and I met when I was working as a cook at a restaurant owned by a family friend.  He came in there one day to have lunch with a client.  After having my Fish Calulu, he wanted to meet me to personally compliment me on the dish.  Feeling a little self-conscious after being in the hot kitchen all morning and not having enough time to fix myself up, I went into the dining-room.  He stood up as I approached.  He was tall and very attractive in his expensive looking grey suit.  I was immediately attracted to him.  He smiled and said in Portuguese, “I wanted to personally tell how much I enjoyed the Fish Calulu.  It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

I smiled shyly.  “Thank you.”

His client had left so we were alone.  “My name is Rodrigo,” he said, extending his large hand.  I looked at it before placing my hand in it.  The long fingers closed over mine in a firm handshake.

“I’m Ezra.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ezra.  I wonder if you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

I gulped.  He was asking me out on a date.  I could hardly believe it.  It took a moment for me to say, “Yes.”

“Good.  I’ll meet you here at eight.  “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”  I watched him leave and then returned to the kitchen.

The following night we went for dinner at a popular Portuguese restaurant.  Afterwards, we went for a drive.  We saw each other regularly after that and the following year, we got married.  I quit my job at the restaurant after learning that I was pregnant with Bento.

Life with Rodrigo ideal.  Our sex life is amazing  and sometimes, we indulge in role play which add a little spice to the marriage.  Lately, I have been dressing up as a slave girl while he pretends to be my slave master.   But this is happening way too often.  He wants to do it for every lovemaking session.

Last night, he pulled my dress down about my waist and turned me around so that my bare back was to him and had me hug the bedpost.  He got the whip he had bought from one of those sex stores and started to use it on me.  It didn’t hurt but Rodrigo wanted me to pretend that it did.  When he was done, he dragged the dress off and threw me down on the bed.  I lay there while he ravaged me, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if this nightmare would ever end.  What had started out as harmless fun had become something I dreaded and desperately wanted to stop.  I wanted to be his wife and lover again not his slave.

I’m sitting here in the kitchen, staring out at the window.  I have made up my mind to tell Rodrigo that I’m not going to be his slave in the bedroom anymore.  And if he cares about me and our marriage, he will respect my wishes.  Worst case scenario, I will pack up and leave.  And of course, take Bento and Mafalda with me.

Hours later, I’m in the bedroom and Rodrigo walks after taking a long, hot shower.  He’s stark naked and by the looks of him, he’s in the mood.  I’m standing by the bed, wearing one of my nightgowns.  The slave girl garb was tossed in the garbage along with the whip.  I was very determined not to subject myself to that again.  Before he could say anything, I said, “Rodrigo, I’m Ezra, your wife, not your slave girl.  I don’t ever want to play that role again.  I didn’t mind doing it the first few times but you want to do it every time and it’s no longer fun for me.  It has become degrading.  I refuse to do it any more.”

Rodrigo stared at me.  Silence filled the room and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to say something.  He came over to me and putting his hands on my shoulders, he said as his eyes met mine.  “Me desculpe, querida.  I’m sorry.  I should have realized that this particular type of role playing would affect you.  It was very insensitive of me.  Please forgive me.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave and I hugged him around the waist and buried my face in his chest.   He will never know how close I came to leaving him if he had not respected my wishes.

Role-play in marriages is healthy and exciting but make sure that both of you are having fun. Never indulge in role-play which will demean or devalue either of you.

Painting With Phil

One of the things I enjoy doing with Phil since we retired is painting.  During the summer, we set up an easel in the backyard and try to paint whatever tickles our fancy.  Art is our passion.  I guess it’s because we met in Art class in high-school.

Today, we are painting my rose bush.  While Phil makes the bold brush strokes, I fill in the details.  It’s shaping up nicely and our grandson, Josh is impressed.  When our masterpiece is done, we’ll frame it and hang above the fireplace.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for today’s prompt, bold. If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Puppy Love

“Adorable,” she said as she watched him with the three puppies.  He had brought them over from their next door neighbor.

“Who, me?”

“No, silly, the puppies.”

“Yes, they are.”

“As adorable as they are, we aren’t going to keep all three.”

He sighed.  “I was afraid you’d say that.  Okay, which one do you think we should keep?”

She got up from the sofa and went over to them.  She sat cross legged on the floor and looked at the little critters.  She picked up the black one with the white patch on its tiny nose.  She cuddled him against her.  “This one,” she said.

“Good choice.  Well, Patch, it looks like this is going to be your new home.”

“Patch?” she looked quizzically at her husband.

“Don’t you think it’s a fitting name?”

“It’s a bit corny but it will do.”

“I’ll take his brother and sister back over to Bill and Cheryl.  Are you sure you don’t want to keep them?  You know to keep Patch company?”

“I’m sure,” she insisted with a laugh.  “One puppy is more than enough.  While you take them back, I’ll fix up a place for this little guy.”

He sighed and got up.  “All right.  I’ll be back shortly.”

As she fixed up a basket with old blankets for Patch, she wondered what Erik would say if he knew that there was going to be another addition to the family.  She smiled.  Tomorrow, they would go shopping for a crib and think about turning the spare bedroom into a nursery.

The Wedding Anniversary

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He was standing at the window of the hotel suite overlooking the seashore when she joined him. “You came,” he said.

“I couldn’t stay away.”

He pulled her against him.  “I know.”

“Your wife called the office.”

“What did she want?”

“She mentioned your parents’ wedding anniversary.”

“Oh, yes.  The celebration’s tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, but I won’t be there.”

 

 

59 Words

This is for the Weekend Writing Prompt by Sammi Cox. For instructions, click HERE.

Stick With Your Own Water

Drink from your own well, my son—be faithful and true to your wife. Be happy, yes, rejoice in the wife of your youth.  Let her breasts and tender embrace satisfy you. Let her love alone fill you with delight. – Proverbs 5:15, 18, 19

It was a Sunday afternoon.  Sunlight streamed through the window.  I could hear the muffled sounds of the traffic below.  We were lying on the couch.  The television was on.  Angie was sleeping.  I stared at the screen but my thoughts were elsewhere.  I was thinking about Nikki.  She’s the woman I’m having an affair with.

I know this may sound lame but I never intended to cheat on Angie.   And definitely not with one of her co-workers.  I was blindsided.  It all began last year when Angie and I went to her company’s Christmas party.  It was the first time she actually succeeded in getting me to go.  She had tried in the past but I always turned her down, preferring to either hang out with my friends or go on a Football binge while enjoying spicy chicken wings.  This time, I decided to go because she laid a guilt trip on me and apparently there was a new guy who seemed a little too interested in her.  I wanted to sort him out.

As soon as we got there, I said to her, “So, where’s the new guy?”

Angie looked at me.  She looked amazing in the red ankle length strapless dress which flattered her figure.  Her hair was swept back in a French knot.  “Promise me you wouldn’t embarrass him or me,” she said.

“I promise.”

“He’s over there talking to Nikki.”

“Nikki?” My eyes followed hers and spotted a man and woman having an animated conversation across the room.  Nikki had her back to us.

“Yes, I’ve told you about her.  Come let me introduce you.”  She held my hand as we navigated our way through the group, past the dance floor to where the guy and Nikki were.  The guy said something to Nikki and she turned around.

I never imagined that I would react to her the way I did.  I felt as if my heart had stopped for a second before it began to pound.  She was stunning.  The faux fur trim knee length black dress showed off her lovely figure and her hair was pulled back with a clasp with a few curls escaping.  Her shapely legs looked long in the black high heeled shoes.  The room suddenly felt very warm.  I needed a drink.

“Dex.” Angie’s gentle nudge on my arm jolted me and I turned to her.  “This is Nikki.”

Nikki smiled up at me and held out her hand.  “Dex, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said as we shook hands.  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

I didn’t know what to say except, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

“Honey, this is Erik.”

It was funny that I wasn’t bothered by Erik anymore.  I think it had something to do with the fact that I was distracted by Nikki.  I could feel her eyes on me as Erik and I shook hands.  I don’t remember what I said to him but from Angie’s expression, it wasn’t anything bad or insulting.

“How about Dex and I go and get you ladies drinks?” Erik suggested.

Angie smiled.  “That sounds good.  Nikki and I will wait here.”

I excused myself and followed Erik to the bar.  I ordered drinks for Angie and me while he ordered for Nikki and himself.  While we waited for them, he turned to me and said, “You’re a very lucky man.”

“I am?”

“Yes!  You’re married to an incredible woman.”

“Yes, you’re right.  I’m very lucky.  Angie’s terrific.  So, you recently joined the company.”

“Yes, I started in May.”

“So, how do you like it so far?”

“It’s great.  The people I work with are amazing, especially Angie and Nikki.”

I had to ask.  “So, is Nikki married?”  I couldn’t remember if Angie had mentioned if she was or not.  Until tonight, I hadn’t paid much attention to what she told me about her co-workers.

Erik shook his head.  “No, she’s single.  It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?  A lot of guys at the office are always asking her out but she turns them down.”

The drinks came and we rejoined the women.  I tried not to look at Nikki more than I needed to but it was really hard.  The four of us hung out together for most of the night.  After we had something to eat from the buffet, the dance floor was opened and people headed for it.  Angie wanted to dance and I reluctantly obliged her.  Then, Erik showed up and I honestly didn’t mind him dancing with her.  I joined Nikki at the bar.

“You’re not much of a dancer, are you?” she asked.

I laughed.  “Was it that obvious?”

“Well, you can dance but you’re just not into it.”

“You’re right.  It’s not my thing.  That’s one of the reasons why I haven’t been coming to the Christmas parties.”

“Well, I think it was sweet of you to dance with Angie even though it’s not your thing.”

“Thank you.  What about you?  I haven’t seen you on the dance floor.”

She shrugged.  “I guess I’m not in the mood for dancing.  Besides, these shoes are killing my feet.  They’re new.”

I didn’t dare look down at her feet.  I kept my eyes trained on her face.  “Erik told me that you’re single.  I find that hard to believe.”

She smiled.  “Really?  Why?”

“You’re a stunning woman, Nikki.  Most of the men here haven’t been able to take their eyes off you.”

“And what about you?” she asked, her expression serious now.

I swallowed hard.  “I’ve tried not to stare at you,” I admitted.  “It’s not easy, though, especially now when we’re alone like this.”

“I know what you mean.  I’ve tried not to stare at you too.  I’ve seen photos of you but none of them do you any justice.  Angie’s a very lucky woman.”

I found myself wondering what would have happened if I had met Nikki first.  Would Angie and I be married?  I felt guilty having such thoughts.  I glanced away, my heart racing.  I should walk away now.  I should go and find Angie.  Yet, I couldn’t seem to move.  I turned to face her.  She was staring at me.  “Nikki, can I come and see you tomorrow night?” I heard myself ask.

“Yes,” she said simply.  She told me where she lived.  Then, she slid off the stool.  “Let’s go back to the party.”

I followed her.  For the rest of the night, I stayed with Angie but I was thinking about tomorrow night.

Tomorrow night came and after telling Angie that I was hanging out with the guys, I left.  My fingers gripped the steering wheel.  I shouldn’t be doing this.  I should be home with Angie or really hanging out with the guys.  Instead, I’m heading over to Nikki’s place.  Nikki.  Every time I thought about her, my stomach would flip flop and my heart would somersault.  No woman, not even Angie, has ever had such an effect on me.  This is crazy.  I should turn this car around and head back home.  I could tell Angie that I changed my mind and that I wanted to spend the night at home with her instead.  She would love that.  I’m sure Nikki would understand if I didn’t show up.

Twenty minutes later, I was standing in front of her door and ringing the bell.  The door opened and she stood there.  “Come in,” she said, stepping aside.

I went in and she closed the door behind me.  I turned and faced her.  My heart is pounding and my face felt hot even though I had just come in from the cold.  I removed my coat and scarf.  She took them and carried them to the closet.  When she returned, she didn’t say anything but reached out, grabbed hold of my sweater and dragged it over my head.  My bare chest was heaving now as I fought for air.  I pulled her roughly against me and my head swooped down.  My mouth closed eagerly and hungrily over hers, groaning when she put her arms around my waist and kissed me back.  We didn’t make it to her room.  We ended up making love right there in the foyer.  Afterwards, we showered, had dinner and made plans to see each other again.  Then, I left.

We’ve been seeing each other for months now.  So far, Angie doesn’t suspect anything, not even when Nikki decided to leave the company.  As I lay here now on a quiet Sunday afternoon, I know in my heart that I can’t continue doing this.  I can’t continue lying to Angie.  I know what the Lord wants me to do but I can’t do it.  I can’t let go of Nikki.  I can’t.  I won’t…

Adultery isn’t something that is unplanned or unintended or an accident.  It occurs in the mind and heart long before it becomes an action.  You have a choice to say no and walk away but oftentimes, you say yes and walk right into it, not thinking about the heartache and the consequences that will affect you and the person to whom you promised to be faithful until death parted you.  Adultery is a selfish act.

Stolen Water

Stolen water is sweet, And bread eaten in secret is pleasant – Proverbs 9:17

We met at a bar one rainy Saturday evening.  It wasn’t the sort of night or place you would expect to meet someone like her.  I was in Chicago on business.  After having dinner at the hotel, I decided to go for a walk in spite of the rain.  I wanted to check out the Navy Pier but the rain was coming down hard now so I ducked into the first bar I spotted.  The atmosphere was cozy and intimate.  A great place to hang out for a while.  I went over to the bar and sat down.  It felt good to be out of the rain.  I looked around.  This place was ideal for a nightcap or a late night rendezvous.  It reminded me of one of my favorite bars in New York.  I smiled and ordered an El Presidente cocktail.

It was after I took my first sip of the cocktail when she walked in.  I froze.  My heart stopped and everything and everyone in the room faded into nothingness.  All I could see was her.  She was wearing a knee length magenta spandex dress which hugged her in all the right places.  Her thick chestnut hair fell in thick waves down her back.  She closed her umbrella and walked over to where I was.  There was an empty stool right beside me.  She sat there.  The bartender turned around and from the way he acted, I could tell that she had been here before.  After exchanging pleasantries, she ordered a Grasshopper.  When he turned away to fix it, she glanced at me.

Our eyes met and held what seemed like a very long time.  My heart was pounding.  I was nervous and excited at the same time.  It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way.  She smiled at me.  “Hello,” she said.

“Hello.”

“I’ve never noticed you here before.”

“This is my first time here.”

“Are you from out of town?”

I nodded.  “Yes.  I’m from New York.”

Her eyebrows arched.  “The Big Apple.  Hmmm.  What brought you here to the Windy City?”

“Business.”

“What sort of business do you do?”

“I’m a Construction Manager.”

“And what exactly does a Construction Manager do?”

“I oversee the process of new commercial and residential buildings, as well as bridges, tunnels and roads; supervise building deadlines, the progress of workers, and managing the budgets for each project.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“What about you? Are you a model?”

She laughed.  “No, but I’m flattered that you think so.  I work at Bluedog Design.”  The bartender placed her drink in front of her.  He glanced at me and then moved away to serve someone else.

“I’m impressed.”

“So, what do you do for fun?”

“I jog, swim, play Squash and do a lot of reading.”

Her cell rang.  “Excuse me,” she said as she fished it out of her handbag.

I turned my head because I didn’t want to seem as if I were eavesdropping.  I took a couple of sips of my cocktail.

“That was my husband,” she said.  “He’s in Vancouver.”

My head swung around sharply.  “You’re married?”

“Yes.”

I glanced pointedly down at her left hand.  There wasn’t any ring.

She followed my gaze.  “I took it to the jewelry store to have it resized.”

“Oh.”  She’s married.  What a bummer.

“What about you?  Girlfriend? Wife? Both?”

“Neither.”

“What’s your name?”

“Andrew.”

“Tina.” She held out her hand.  I grasped it.  It felt soft and warm.

Her being married put a damper on the evening and I could think of nothing else.  “Doesn’t your husband mind you going to bars alone?”

“This is the first time I’ve been in a bar alone.”

“I know if I were him, I would have a problem with you being here alone in a bar talking to another man.”

“He doesn’t know that I’m here talking to another man.”

“And what if he did, wouldn’t he be upset?”

“Let’s not worry or talk about Sam.  I’d rather talk about you.”

I finished my drink and slid off the stool.  “I have to go.”

Her eyes widened.  “But why?  We were just getting to know each other.”

“You’re married, Tina.”

“I know but you and I click.  The evening is still young.  Still a while longer.”

“I can’t.  We both know where this will lead if I don’t leave right now.  It was a pleasure meeting you, Tina.  My advice to you is that you go home and stop going to bars alone.  Goodnight.”  I turned and walked out of the bar.

It had stopped raining.  I could have gone to the Navy Pier but I decided that I had had enough excitement for one evening.  I headed back to the hotel.

Two years have passed since that night in a Chicago bar and I don’t regret my decision.  I was tempted but I was able to walk away and not look back.  Now, I’m happily married to an amazing woman I met right here in New York.  I believe it that it was my faith that saved me from doing something I would have regretted for the rest of my life.

When faced with temptation, you can either run towards it or away from it.  The more you resist it, however, the more fortified you become.

Sources:  Four Seasons Chicago;Yelp; Sparrow Chicago; Global Business Travel; Bluedog Design