A Change of Needs (10 page)

She found herself telling him about her day, confiding in him in ways she did none of her girlfriends or husband, and quickly involving him in the details of her life, and “yes,” marriage. And he listened, that was probably the most important thing he did. He didn’t offer commentary or advice, but would simply listen. There was never an occasion that he didn’t accommodate her, regardless of what he was doing, except where his child was concerned, he had essentially made himself available as if an on-call 24 hour service. He didn’t do it out of some intense selflessness, but quite the opposite, out of an intense selfishness, and there would be there those spontaneous trips from Franklin County to Raleigh as a reward.

There were of course those occasions when Glen wanted to have sex, and she would “oblige,” because that’s really what it was, obligatory, the performance of spousal duty. She had complained about a lack of it in the relationship, and consequently she couldn’t really ignore it when it was presented, but she found herself thinking of Jake in the process, drawing comparisons between the chemistry they had, with that of her and Glen, and there was no comparison. She didn’t start to repel his advances at that point nor ever did, not literally at least, but in that way that someone doesn’t reach for your hand as you reach for theirs, or join you in the moment thus stymieing it, that was definitely going on. It had begun before she met Jake, and was part of how she was justifying her infidelity.

She had created a situation where the man didn’t feel his advances welcomed, and then complain that there weren’t any so that she could do what she wanted, incredibly conniving and effective. But he was more amorous than usual, probably because she was glowing, if human pheromones do exist she was exuding them and even he couldn’t ignore it.

As the male of the species, Glen could sense that perhaps another dawg had been sniffing around, and men are territorial creatures, sometimes they want something just to keep someone else from having it.

So you’ve gathered from our story that Jake had been romantically claustrophobic in his post-divorce life, but this wasn’t his usual relationship, this one had extreme complications, complications that conflictingly aroused him. He wasn’t quite certain how he felt, but at least he wasn’t in denial of it like some republican homophobe tapping shoes with the guy in the next stall at the rest stop. He had become involved with a married woman and was neither proud nor ashamed, but in a silent treaty between the two had come to an acceptance of it. And he was single, and she was sleeping with her husband, and the emotional inequity that presented for him demanded some necessary distractions to combat the feelings he was having.

Olivia was all of thirty-five, never married, in the fog of womanhood where she couldn’t see what lay ahead of her, a period in life where a lot of women are sensitive and vulnerable about that uncertainty, and she attacked it straight forward with an almost antagonistic philosophy of a preemptive “shoot first, ask questions later” nature. She was extremely career-oriented, an accountant by profession for a local pharmaceutical manufacturer. Men go through a similar fog, only a little later in life, when the doctor says bend over and you have a different stunned expression on your face regarding a K-Y jelly experience.

She was an attractive African-American, stood about 5’2,” petite, but stacked and didn’t look her age, and was rightfully proud of it. She thought he looked out of place at the party, as if he had been called to fix something. “
Who are you?
” she asked as Jake stood shuffling through the host’s CD selection for something out of the ordinary, he paused for a second, examining the interpersonal barometer for some indication of whether or not what he was thinking about saying was appropriate …
hesitation killed the damn squirrel h
e thought, “
It might be Baby Bear
” he chuckled…. “
Huh?
” she said. “
You know …just right,
” he chuckled again. “
Damn… Do I look like Goldilocks? I thought it might be father time or dirty ol’ bastard,
” she retorted, apparently hoping to retard his further advance, or at least insinuating she thought there would be one.

He had come to the gathering at the invitation of a younger fellow he partnered with from time to time on big jobs who had some landscaping equipment he didn’t, and while not uncomfortable in any situation, he had spent most of the night inconspicuously tucked away watching as others made fools of themselves. But he was now up for a good debate, and without hesitation responded, “
Tell me you’ve had that fantasy?
” I can’t be more than ten years older than her he reassured himself, I’ve got a woman her age pondering ruining her life on account of me, “
Don’t be a hater,
” he said. “
What do you mean?
” as if her sense of open-mindedness offended. “
You know it’s against the law to discriminate on account of age, besides, the older the oak, the harder the wood,
” …oh God …I did not just say that, he thought. Aside from sounding embarrassingly corny, he might need a pill if she called him out. But the banter continued, she’d pissed him off, and he’d intrigued her.

“
How’bout it? It’s just one night, and you’re not really my type either.
” In a carefully chosen chess move, thinking ahead, he had advertently turned the tables on her. “
You’re a bit older than I’d prefer,
” he continued. “
I’d give you a heart attack
” she replied defensively. “
I have some aspirin in the truck and a will at home,
” he grinned looking her dead in the eye.

He had planted a cocoon of doubt in her confidence, and she would float around the party for a time apparently preoccupied with the turn the conversation had taken, watching with some disdain as he had drawn the attention of some other women, and it bothered her in some great detail, until it eventually evolved into a butterfly of challenge and curiosity, telling herself he had begun to take on a “
Californication
,
”
Hank Moody
desirable cadness in the meantime. “Fuck him,” she thought, as she then gathered her things …and Jake …and they took a Cardinal cab to her upscale midtown studio apartment nearby. It would be unclear as to “who showed who” what when it was all said and done.
“Oh shit,”
“
Oh yeah
,”
“Oh God,”
“
O-livia
,” “
O
” for Olivia it was.

Distraction aside, it was simply that, a one-night intermission to what was really foremost on his mind, and by now you would be justified in thinking our two contestants, Rae Anne and Jacob, had little else going on in their respective lives, but they did. He was now working with Rhonda part-time, and never missed a beat with his son and his active life, and still managing to get out like the single man he was. She was taking care of the house, her kids, her volunteer activities. It was all quite impressive. But the speed at which things were moving had left them both a little off balance. In little more than a month’s time they had gone from a park bench conversation about a strictly sexual arrangement to something unexpectedly much more intense, and in the process there would be some collateral damage, the explosion of emotions proving to be too much for her
confined
space. Fortunately there was nobody in Jake’s blast radius, but hers boiled over in a very loud display with Glen, but not an
argument
because he was not an active participant, but simply the object of her rile. After a few Manhattans with her girlfriend, she was more than a little inebriated and feeling a bit full of her self, the preacher’s daughter’s ego and libido inflated, as the attention from Jake had gone to her head. Not quite in a literal “
I got a man who likes me, na na na na nah nah…he thinks I’m sexy na na na na nah nah, he can’t keep his hands off me …na na na na nah nah, he put his pee-pee in me….
” not that forthcoming, but dangerously close, and almost as juvenile in tone.

Her words were like verbal pepper spray and a kick in the nuts, she seemed intent on emasculating him. The poor guy seemed confused as to what it was all about, and exactly what it was that he was guilty of, and apologizing all the while… He was obviously a very farsighted man, because it appeared he couldn’t see what was happening right before him. It got so rowdy she related to Jake, that the kids were awakened crying at the spectacle of mommy drunk and yelling at Glen. A lamp was broken in the melee …because she had fallen into it, and the old couple next door thought to call the cops. Not because they suspected Glen of anything violent, he was an extremely mild-mannered guy, but they thought perhaps some sort of Charles Manson home invasion might have been going on. The police would come, but no charges filed of course as Rae was nearly passed-out by the time they arrived and there was no evidence of violence, but police departments keep a record of all domestic disturbance calls so that officers show up with full knowledge of what they might encounter if ever called to that address again.

She explained it all to Jake with a sizable hangover the next day, and he listened… She told him she was thinking of asking Glen for a divorce, and he listened. She waited for some indication of his response to the idea, and he wasn’t participating. He had told himself early on that he wasn’t going to be that guy, which is so inherently fucked up and contradictory at this point. Told himself he would be the nail, but not the hammer, be the bullet but not the gun, as if one was less involved than the other, and he was trying desperately to remain true to that. Fuck her brains out, “yes,” fuck her life up, “no.” Mother fucker “yes,” …motherfucker “no.” She would have to take that step by herself, if she took it he would be there to celebrate it with her, might be a contributing factor, but he would not be the cause. She had intimated to him she had some of these feelings beforehand, but Jake was not the
reason
, nor would he be an
excuse
. And once the hangover subsided, so did the emotions and the angst, she recentered herself, took note of her comfortable life. Retreated to her original plan to see her children raised, and take care of her needs when the opportunities presented themselves, and got in the Suburban and took the kids to school Monday morning, then went to her pilates class at the Country Club, and that was the last of that. For a blink in time, she had come to the threshold, but she wasn’t going to jump without someone there to catch her, and he had declined. She would have to make that decision on her own he told himself, without making more of a coconspirator of him than he’d already become. But in that blink she was there, and true to her character, it quickly passed, and Jake went back to being what he was always intended to be, her sexual 401k plan.

She found her way to Franklin County in the middle of the week, they both had openings in their schedule, and she needed some attention, and he felt like a drug dealer must feel when the supply has dried up and they have the only product in town. She no sooner got in the door than they were doing it on the bedroom floor, she said she liked the traction it provided, and he was all about what she liked. It wasn’t just that she would tell him what to do, what made it work is that she felt comfortable enough to tell him …and he listened and didn’t just grunt and nod obligingly, knowing that when he had finished his chores, she would ask him what he wanted …and in time it would prove he had a lot on his mind. Men in general are essentially turnkey operations sexually …no assembly required. Women on the other hand should come with instructions, or at least a paint-by-numbers scheme for doing the job right because each is different. He liked to be told what to do in that regard, not in a submissive way, but in a “Help me help you” way, it satisfied the “pleaser” in his perfectionist nature. And he would put the knowledge he acquired in the reference section of his sexual library, it made for a good resource, “The more you know…”

Sexual partners are like dance partners, and some of us tango together better than others, and women understand the fragility of the male ego, that’s why there’s the all too infamous “fake orgasm,” but the flushness of her face wouldn’t lie, and he had found there to be nothing so good for a man than mounting a willing woman, her kitty hungry for some meat, seeing the increasingly red glow about her cheeks, and hearing her call
his
name or God’s. It certainly didn’t happen every time, but when it did happen, it was better than an orgasm, and the effect much longer lasting. The “validation” that every man seeks, beyond the implications that
adequate
satisfies a
purpose
, to where
sufficient
satisfies a
need
. It was like one of those MasterCard commercials …“priceless.” More often than not men are likely to shoot par on the front nine, i.e., “36 strokes and goodnight Irene…” To be accurate, at thirty-seven she was a “do me” girl…. I’m lying here, “
now do me
,” not a particularly active participant, as opposed to Ivey for example, but the fact he was so attracted to her more than made up for it, her body an adult fun-park, the experience like having it closed for a private party for one.

He was flattered that she had gone to the trouble, made the time and the hour-and-a-half long roundtrip, and emotionally disarmed by her display of desire to be with him, and in the post coital silence of their play-date, as they lay there afterwards, he still above her, running his fingers through her auburn hair, it rolled off his tongue so naturally it seemed wrong not to say it. He told her he loved her. He had only said it to two women in his life, it had been said to him more often than that, and the absence of a response always signaled the death toll for those relationships. But on this instance it came out like a burp, unannounced, unexpected, and a surprise to him as well, not the feeling so much as the acknowledgment of it. He took the words seriously, knew the implications of it, the fact they had been spoken so unpremeditated wasn’t a heat of the moment error but an indication of their sincerity, the realization of which had piled up in his head like an I-40 traffic jam at rush hour, and similarly bound to break loose at some point.