An Act of Persuasion(66)

One thing was for sure, in four more months there wouldn’t be enough room inside of her body for the baby and Ben’s penis, so if they were going to do this, now was the time.

Putting on the bra that fit, Anna picked a loose green cotton maxi dress. It cut in right under her breasts and actually highlighted the bump. She looked like a mildly chubby woman with a belly or a newly pregnant woman just starting to show.

Either way it wasn’t horrible.

The doorbell rang and, looking at the clock, she knew without a doubt it was Ben. He was exactly on time. There were days she wondered if he arrived early and simply stood outside doors waiting for the second hand on his watch to clear the twelve before hitting the doorbell.

Today they were going non-baby furniture shopping. Like any couple did who was furnishing a house they might one day live in together. Taking a deep breath, she made her way into the living room and opened the door.

He was wearing a pair of jeans and black T-shirt that clung to his chest, which was filled out now thanks to him eating more and working out regularly. In another month or two he would probably have put on all the weight he’d shed and no one would know that the world had almost lost this man.

She would know, though. She would never forget, either.

In a way, it was odd seeing him in jeans. It was yet one more thing to get used to in this new Anna/Ben 2.0 version. They kissed, they took naps together and he wore something other than business attire—or his robe and pajamas—when they were together. They definitely were no longer that working couple they used to be. They had turned into something else, and she found she really liked it.

“Will you humor me at least and ask who’s at the door, even when you know it’s me?”

“Who is it?”

“Excellent. You’re in funny mode today. I love it when Anna aspires to wittiness.”

She flashed him a smile and waited for his corresponding growl, which he granted her. It occurred to her that no matter how different things were, there was still some element of the old Anna/Ben 1.0 left in them and that was nice, too.

This was how it used to be between them. It felt as though they were finally getting their pre-cancer groove on and it made her happy. Yes, they still needed to find a way for the old and the new to fit together in harmony. But she was starting to believe it could happen. Really believe.

“Are you ready?”

Anna nodded. “Yes, I think I am.”

“Then let’s go.”

Eventually they ended up at the IKEA store near the King of Prussia mall in the outskirts of Philadelphia. They wandered the displays and, sadly, it didn’t take long for them to become locked in a ferocious battle of wills.

“This bed is prettier,” she said.

“This bed is bigger,” he said, pointing to the king-size bed he preferred.

“I’ve never needed anything bigger than a queen.”

“Well, I need a king. If the plan is for us to be sharing this bed one day—and, as far as I’m concerned, that is still the plan—we will need the big one. I like to have room...to work.”

Anna turned to him, exasperated. They had been picking out furniture for her new house for hours now and it occurred to her that Ben’s primary motivation was making sure the piece was of good quality and large enough to accommodate them having sex. The chair had to recline fully, the couch had to be big enough to support them both if they were lying side by side, which her purple couch would not.

“Is sex really all you can think about?”

He considered her question. “Yes.”

“You want me that bad?”

“Yes.”

Anna laughed. “I don’t get it. How do you go for years without thinking about doing it with me, then suddenly one night lose control over a pair of yoga pants and now all you can think about is getting me back into bed.”

“Into the larger bed, yes. I should never have told you about the yoga pants.”

“Ben, I’m being serious.”

“Anna, I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t think about having sex with you for six years, because I wouldn’t let myself think about it. Sometimes a thought or two...I couldn’t help that. But mostly I would suppress it. Then in a moment that night... I don’t like to refer to it as losing control—”

“You wouldn’t, Mr. Control Freak.”

“I prefer to think of it as letting the moment take over.”