365 Nights

Table of Contents

 

 

 

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This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

This book describes the real experiences of real people. The author has disguised the identities of some, and in some instances created composite characters, but none of these changes has affected the truthfulness and accuracy of the story.

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Copyright © 2008 by Charla Muller and Betsy Thorpe.

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PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley trade paperback edition / July 2008
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Muller, Charla.
365 nights : a memoir of intimacy / Charla Muller with Betsy Thorpe.
p. cm.

eISBN : 978-1-4406-2929-7

1. Sex in marriage. 2. Married people—Sexual behavior. 3. Married people—Psychology.
4. Communication and sex. 5. Intimacy (Psychology) 6. Muller, Charla—Diaries. I. Thorpe, Betsy. II. Title.
HQ31.M79 2008
306.81092—dc22
[B] 2008010402

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For details, write: Special Markets, The Berkley Publishing Group, 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

To Brad

Acknowledgments

When a gal from Charlotte, North Carolina, publishes a book, there are lots of folks to thank:

I am thankful to my agent, Sharon Bowers at the Miller Agency, for her guidance and support. To Andie Avila at Berkley Books for her gentle and wise counsel. And to the talented Betsy Thorpe, who bumped into my life at an incredibly auspicious time thanks to our mutual friend, Patti. And to all of the aforementioned for taking a chance on me, of all people!

To my Book Club, a group of bright, passionate women who have been a source of special respite for me over the last fifteen years. To my Tuesday Night Women's Bible Study Group, who taught me that, in Him, all things are possible, even intimacy every day for a year with your spouse. To the fantastic NBGs for two decades of steadfast support, great laughs, and wonderful friendship. And to those special friends and NBGers who shared their intimate experiences, a special thank-you!

I would like to thank my dear friends Carole, Missy, and Kathleen (also my sister-in-law), who walked me in from various and sundry cliffs throughout this process and told me time and time again that, of course, I could write a book—as if it's a perfectly normal thing to do! And to Christy, who still supports me to this day.

To my mother-in-law, who thinks most everything I do is fantastic, even writing a book about her son's sex life.

To my mom and dad, who are a tremendous example of enduring love. I owe them a special note of thanks for entrusting me to write a book that would not embarrass the entire family (How'd I do?). To my brother, one of the most upstanding, compassionate, and superbly funny people I know. To my children, whom I love to the point of ridiculousness. I hope that you are proud of me . . . one day. And to Brad, who embarked not only on a crazy year of intimacy with me, but on the crazy year that followed. Thank you for holding my hand and my heart so carefully these past ten years. You are a great sport and I love you.

I would like to thank Charla for having the courage to tell me her wonderful story over sandwiches, and for believing in me to help her “make it work.” Charla, it doesn't get any more fun than working with you! (And thanks to Patti for suggesting I meet Charla when I moved to Charlotte.)

To our agent, Sharon Bowers: Thanks for instantly responding to this project with great feedback, superb ideas, and for finding us our wonderful editor . . . Andie Avila. Andie, you believed in this project from the very beginning, and it's through your enthusiastic stewardship that we are now here in print, sharing Charla and Brad's story with the world. Thanks for all your thoughtful work, and for the time and care you've taken with us.

To my daughters, Georgia and Lucy: Every day with you is a blessing, and I hope one day (much further in the future) you will read this book and it will help you in your own relationships. Thanks to my supportive parents, Elise and Bob, for your willingness to be there for me at any time of the day, and for all the free babysitting. Thanks to my friends in the South Charlotte Literary Babes' Club with terrific advice: Tracey, Tracie, Judy, and Emily, and friends far and wide: Kalie, Rosemary, Sarah, Terri, Tina, Nina, Kris, Nancy, Mark, Kendra, Paula, Jane, Heather, and Jenny. Your friendship through the years has been invaluable. And lastly, to my colleagues at Novello Festival Press, Amy Rogers and Lisa Kline—it's a blast working with you, and thank you for taking on some of my work while I sweated to make this deadline!

—
Jean Anouilh

The Offer

When I offered my husband sex every day for a year to celebrate his fortieth birthday, he literally fell over. He was so taken by surprise that he actually stumbled over our son's fire truck, which was lying in the middle of the floor in our den, and landed, with a thud, in his leather chair.

It was a few weeks before Brad's birthday. I was confident and excited about telling him my dazzling idea. Likewise, I couldn't wait for him to accept it.

I extended my hand to help Brad off the chair and led him to the sofa. I hadn't thrown the idea in front of him simply to get a reaction or a laugh. So, sitting side by side, I faced him and repeated the offer to him again—this time more slowly and with more gravitas. “Honey, I'd like to give you sex every day for your fortieth birthday.” I closed my eyes, relaxed back into the sofa cushion, and waited. Waited for the shock to wear off and the gloriousness of my offer to sink in. But to my astonishment that didn't happen. Instead, Brad actually
declined
my offer of daily intimacy for a year to celebrate
his
birthday.

“Do you actually mean
you don't wanna have sex
with me
every day
for a year?” I declared in a loud and rather high-pitched voice. I have to admit, I was close to that weird screeching noise that women are prone to emit when they are rendered to a state of utter and complete disbelief.

“That's not exactly true, hon. It's just that I don't want you to
feel
like you have to have sex with me,” Brad said.

“I'm your wife. Of course I feel like I have to have sex with you. That's why I married you,” I reasoned.

“It's a great idea, I guess . . . I just can't imagine that you really mean it.”

I hung in there. “What if I do mean it? What if I really do want to have sex with you every day for a year? I mean, would you really say
no
to such a thing?” I was appalled at the notion!

“Of course not. But are you sure you've thought through this and what it could mean? Why don't you think about this some more and we can talk about it later.”

With that, Brad walked down the hall and our conversation ended. I sat on that couch in the family room, surrounded by pictures of us together on our wedding day, and of the kids at Christmas and on our annual summer vacation in the mountains, stunned. That was it? End of conversation? I gave him the ultimate offer—the stuff of fantasy—and he said, “Yeah, not so much.” Why wasn't he jumping up and down like a kid in a candy store? Why were there no high fives? No kisses of joy and gratitude, and phrases like, “You're definitely going to win ‘Wife of the Year' with this one, honey!”

Instead, he had calmly walked down the hall, and left me alone. This exchange is a great illustration of why I both love my husband and why I'm befuddled by him. I mean, wouldn't most husbands have stripped down to their skivvies instantly, swooning over the delicious idea of fulfilling their sexual desires daily? Wouldn't most men be running down the hall, jerking the covers off the bed, and hopping in, thinking: “The guys at the gym are never gonna believe this”? Well, not the one I married, apparently.

Brad, who is gifted with an uncanny ability to get along with me and a rather inordinately large dose of common sense, wanted me to
think
about it. Well, duh, I
had
been thinking about it, which was why I thought it was such a good idea in the first place! I was a tad bit put off, in fact. Wasn't he interested? Did he think I couldn't stick to such an arrangement?

I didn't feel rejected by Brad, per se. I know my husband well and think he knows my limits better than I, and was aware that this proposal was a mighty big commitment. His initial reticence wasn't a commentary on The Gift and his interest in receiving it, but rather on my ability to deliver it. I could have been offended, yes. But I wasn't—he forced me to think carefully about what I was offering, and the nitty-gritty of how I was going to deliver. Because on some level, there could be cause for concern as I'm a “Big Idea” person, which I used to think was charming but am now realizing can be expensive and often hazardous. I can get caught up in the big picture and ignore the details . . . and then it's too late. Like our annual family photo (a big idea and real memory maker) that no one in my extended family under the age of six really wants to take (small but important detail when you're running around the yard corralling little people). Or our trip to New York City to expose our children to “The City That Never Sleeps.” Well, that trip became the trip we'll never pay off. But I still contend that sometimes Big Picture folks bring a lot to the party.