A Different Kind of Forever(67)
“That would be good. Any other fantasies I can help you with?”
“Maybe. Since you don’t have a sister, are you close to your friend Carol?”
“Forget it. Next please?”
“How do you feel about handcuffs?”
“Oh, very cute. Ouch, not so hard.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. Is that better?”
“Yes. It takes the sting out. Thank you.”
“Sure.” He wiped his fingers with gauze. “All done.”
“I really appreciate it. You’re always doing the nicest things for me.”
“I love you, remember?”
“I know. And I’m grateful every day.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No, not really.”
“Will the crabs keep?”
“For a while.”
“Then let’s just stay here. When the rain stops, we’ll get out of bed.”
“Good plan.”
He stretched out on his back, and she curled against him, and they fell asleep with the sound of the rain on the roof.
Marianne Thomas gave Diane a call. Classes were starting, and Marianne had come back from her annual pilgrimage to Crete. They agreed to meet for lunch.
Marianne could not believe how lovely Diane looked. Her hair was long, glossy and curling. Her face was tanned, her eyes bright and happy. Marianne clucked her tongue as Diane sat down.
“I take it you’re still with that beautiful boy?” Marianne asked, arching a plucked eyebrow.
Diane made a face. “He’s not a boy, Marianne.”
“No, but he is beautiful. What happened to your face?”
“I fell. I tried to go roller-blading with Megan.”
“God, why would you want to do that?”
Diane shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m having a midlife crisis.”
“I would think,” Marianne said carefully, “that having frequent sex with a man roughly half your age would ward off any impending midlife crisis.”
Diane examined the menu. “So, tell me. Tell me about Greece. Did everyone remember you again this year? It must be like a family reunion by now. You’ve been going back to the same place since before I knew you. What, eight years?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. It has been eight years. They even fixed me up this time, with a lovely English woman, who was as desperate about the dearth of Greek lesbians as I was.” Marianne shook out her napkin. “She left me feeling pretty much the way you look”
“How do I look?” Diane looked over the top of the menu.
“Cherished.”
Diane took a gulp of the wine the waiter placed in front of her. Marianne sipped hers, watching her friend.
“Are you in love with this man?” Marianne asked suddenly.
Diane set down the menu slowly. “I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately. The girls are home next week. I won’t be able to see him every day, once I’m back to work. The play is going to take up so much time, I had no idea. I feel like a junkie about to be taken off drugs. Is that because I need him? Love him? I don’t know. I think I do. He says he’s in love with me.”
“He says?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Have you been living with him?” Marianne asked.
“No. Not exactly. I’ve been going home everyday, usually on my way to school, to feed the cat, get mail. Change clothes. All I’ve got at his place is a toothbrush. I do stuff at the house. I can’t call my mother from his place, it just feels too weird. She never forgave me divorcing Kevin, and I can just imagine what she’d think of all this. But we haven’t been apart more than a couple of nights in a row all summer.”
“How cozy.”
“I know. And it’s all about to change. And Quinn Harris is coming back and teaching another class this fall. It’s a done deal. Sam told me.”
Marianne took another sip. “This is all so interesting. Maybe I shouldn’t go away next year. It seems I’ve missed an awful lot.”
“I’ve been living in a very artificial world all summer. I mean, he has a boat, we sail. We have lunch served by the pool. We run into The City whenever I want. There’s all this great sex at the drop of a hat. That’s not how I usually run my life, you know that. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit him into my real world.”