Affairytale : A Memoir Page 4
Why would I throw one dull relationship away just to have another? Besides, it’s me who’s the problem and needs to change, right?
“Relationships are hard work and sacrifice.”
“The grass isn’t always greener on the other side.”
“You’ll trade one set of problems for another.”
Those were the phrases I knew about marriage and maybe those things were true. I didn’t know. What I did know was that a still small voice kept nudging me, telling me that great love did exist and wasn’t so difficult after all.
I was more myself with Grant than I’d ever been with anyone else. Levi unleashed a monster, whereas Grant reminded me of who I was, and how far away from my true self I’d wandered. Grant unlocked the best parts of me. He made me want to be a better person and keep moving toward my goals no matter how impossible they seemed. With him I was courageous, and playful, and together we laughed with the innocence of a child. Yet there was no way realistically or logically that I could back out of what I had with Levi. Even if I did, what solid evidence did I have that Grant would really want me if I was single?
“You want to take it out for a while?” Grant nodded toward his shimmering silver Jet Ski swaying in the waves.
“Not alone, but you can take me.”
Grant stared into the clear water with a wary smile and I braced for rejection. He sloshed his foot from side to side then lifted his chin. “Sure” he said, “I’ll take you for the ride of your life.”
He oozed sexual confidence. A playful confidence that made me want to tackle him and wrestle a few rounds slathered in hot oil. He snapped shut the buckles on his life jacket, patted the seat behind him and curled his index finger telling me to come here.
I grabbed the nearest girl’s life jacket, a baby blue and pastel pink thing with “HO” in capital letters on the back. When I put it on, my boobs had nowhere to go except plunging out the arm holes like the center of a jelly donut—it was three sizes too small and two decades too old, a relic from my childhood. I shrugged off the embarrassing look and wrapped my arms around his chest. I clutched the straps of his life jacket, and in one mighty thrust I yanked hard, throwing both of us into the water. It was a refreshing plunge that was met with roaring laughter from the dock.
“Good one HO,” Dylan said in his usual calm manner as he applied sunscreen to his biceps tattoos. Tattoos that made his bulging muscles look even bigger and added another level of intimidation to his already overpowering presence.
When Grant stood up, water dripped down the bridge of his nose, “You know I’ll get you back,” he smirked.
“That’s not fair! You’ve already gotten me back many times,” I whined as we shimmied back into place, poking and flicking at each other.
I settled in behind him and began to fantasize that he would take me to a secluded part of the lake and tell me how much he wanted me. Be with me, he would say, leave him, I will love you better. I would confess my long suppressed desire to devour him whole, and tell him he was the most extraordinary man on the planet. I would tell him that I was the one woman for him.
But that didn’t happen. Instead he drove like a lunatic—zigged and zagged, throttled and jerked, and whirled us in the same circle until it formed a supermassive black hole that threatened to suck me in. I refused to let go, I would never let him go. I squeezed his hips between my inner thighs tight enough to squash a watermelon, and clenched my fist around my wrist securing myself to him.
I put my lips close to his ear, “You’ll never get me off.”
He turned his head toward me and in the most seductive tone he said, “I’ll get you off, baby.”
Did he just say that? Yes! Finally some real fun.
“I hope you do—but I think you’re too chicken,” I yelled into the wind.
His sneaky laughter told me that he enjoyed our inappropriate innuendos.
I wrapped my arms around him like I was saving an oak tree and laid my head on his shoulder. I moved with his movements, in-sync with every turn and tilt. It was the first time we’d been that close, the first time he’d allowed it, or maybe even encouraged it. I would have crawled inside his skin if he would have let me.
When the water pressure finally tore our bodies from the slick machine, we floated like bobbers in the waves.
“I have to pee,” he said with a devious smirk, then thrashed through the water making a beeline toward me.
“No Grant don’t! Please, please!” I yelled as I swam away. Then stopped and realized two could play that game. “I have to pee too,” I said with a smirk.
“Well, go ahead then,”
“I will then. I am then.”
I scooped up a handful of seaweed that was floating next to me and flung it at him. “That was in the water where I just peed.”
He swished it around, “Yep, and now it’s in the water where I peed.” He flung it back at me with ridiculous accuracy.
He helped me back onto the Jet Ski, but not before he pushed me back into the water another time. I pouted and started swimming toward the shore.
“I’m sorry, I was just kidding. I won’t do it again. I promise,” he said. “Come back…please,” he reached out his hand. “I’m not going to push you. Get up here.” Then he reached down and clasped my arm pulling me from the water with ease. When he wrapped one hand around my lower back tiny hairs all over my body stood at attention, and I waited for him to do something, anything. Anything that would tell me how he felt so I didn’t have to live in agony any longer wondering if it was only me who felt something between us.
He did nothing.
Water dripped from the stubble on his face and landed in the large chasm between my breasts. We looked at the drop simultaneously. I reached down and wiped it away.
“Ew,” I said. He rolled his eyes and threatened to push me back in the water.
Our tomfoolery went on for hours as he kept us away from watchful eyes, staying in a secluded bay on the opposite side of the lake.
Is he hiding us intentionally? Do we have something to hide?
I wanted to believe that our privacy was by his design, but I couldn’t be sure how he felt. I was only sure how I felt, and my feelings were intensifying by the second.
On our last wipe-out of the day, we surfaced to find the Jet Ski half a football field away and upside down.
“Oh shit, that’s bad isn’t it?” I asked with a crooked grin.
“It’s not good,” he said.
The downed machine gurgled and gulped in water. I secretly hoped we’d be stranded and have to swim to shore then walk back. That would take at least another two or three hours. So when we finally managed to flip the huge hunk of metal upright, I was disappointed. I was disappointed again when the engine choked and coughed and struggled back to life.
The sun had already circled past its midday point. We’d been out the entire afternoon when it hit me. I knew Dani was fine with my mom and dad but— Shit! What if Levi showed up while I was gone?
My fear was real but fleeting, snuffed out by much stronger emotions.
I sat down shivering and huddled behind Grant. Then a familiar gray gloom descended on me as I realized he was taking me home. The chances of us doing anything like this again were slim, and the prospect of having to watch him do these things with another woman were great.
As we skimmed the surface of the smooth water I peered into the woods, I understood their eerie calm, it enveloped me too. I set my head on his cold, padded shoulder and closed my eyes—I was an infinitesimal speck in the universe, and I felt it. Yet somehow with him, my insignificance was bearable. Whether it was reality or not, in some small way I felt significant to him.
The wind blew through my skin and my body trembled, I cowered behind him, tucked in my arms and disappeared in his shelter. Then a comforting heat covered the outside of my leg, surprising me. The length of his arm stretched out against my body, his palm and fingers covering as much of my cold skin as possible. Where o
ur skin touched tension pulsed. The warmth of his arm remained unchanged as we took an unusual route home. I couldn’t help but wonder if taking the long way back confessed what he couldn’t say.
I wrapped myself tighter around him hoping to emanate how I felt without words. I embraced him whole heartedly as if somehow I knew he was the great love I was waiting for. Tears formed on my eyelashes. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but the consequences were too grave. I might wreck our friendship, and he might lose respect for me. I could lose Levi. The fear of being rejected and losing the only life I knew kept me as silent as the trees around me.
As we approached the cabin, a tall thick figure stood at the end of the dock. Dylan was looking over the water with binoculars, searching for us.
***
I miss u already baby :(
Remember, I’ll be watching over u.
Chapter 6
“I WILL BE CALM. I WILL BE MISTRESS OF MYSELF.”
―JANE AUSTEN, SENSE AND SENSIBILITY
7 months later
At the edge of the world I desired him less.
Warm sand squished between my toes, turquoise water hypnotized my soul, and the sound of steel drums filled my mind.
Blue sky mind—blue sky mind.
I reminded myself as I looked up, aspiring to be as simple and necessary as the pale blue uncomplicated sky. As I indulged in that simple moment standing by his side, I somehow became reset, wiped clean of my wandering intentions and ready for a new start, with Levi.
Just like it has appeared in the magazine, Magens Bay was a perfect crescent shaped beach lined with postcard palm trees stretching out over the water, and waves that crumbled imperceptibly over my toes. A lone waitress with ripped calves and a ponytail that whipped from shoulder to shoulder patrolled the beach selling overpriced diluted drinks. I imagined what it would be like to be her. To live every day in a bikini and bare feet. I could do that. Live at a slower pace, immerse myself in a simple existence with no greater meaning, and thrive in a world where the most difficult decision was coconut or mango.
Magens Bay was third on a list of the ten most beautiful beaches in the world. A list I vowed I would start checking off. Although Levi didn’t care about being a global traveler or seeing the natural wonders of the world, experiencing all that our majestic planet had to offer was born in me. I had no choice other than to go alone, or drag him along.
Taking Levi to Magens Bay, spending time together without the temptation of Grant, gave me the time and distance to get some much needed perspective on my love life. What I found shocked me. I didn’t feel as deeply for Grant as I thought I did, and for the first time it was easy to let him go.
Leaving our daughter with grandparents, vacationing with Levi came with no complications or obligations. It was just he and I, the rum, and the sun. I was enjoying myself with Levi again, enjoying his laid-back style.
Levi was born into a simple family with meager means. A family where togetherness and happiness were found without having a nice car, the latest pair of tennis shoes, or expensive jeans. His was a family that welcomed me into their home with a tender hug and a roast in the oven.
Levi was willing to do whatever I wanted, no itinerary, no alarm clock and no expectations. I could push us to scurry like tourists, or ask to do nothing on a beach. He was always willing to live life on my terms, and at the time he didn’t seem to care. I took advantage of his easy going personality.
After Magens Bay, Levi and I strolled the emerald beaches of St. Martin, explored the au naturale beach Orient, snubba’d at Coki, snorkeled in Trunk Bay, and drank lime margaritas overlooking the lost city of Atlantis. When I cracked a Corona in Mexico, a pained and distant thought of Grant haunted me.
Would this moment be better with Grant or Levi? I asked myself.
Who would I rather be with right now?
Stop it—be content!
Make this work, Dani needs a real family, she deserves a real married family.
So…
We set the date.
Chapter 7
“MARRIAGE IS HONORABLE IN ALL, AND THE BED UNDEFILED,
BUT WHOREMONGERS AND ADULTERERS GOD WILL JUDGE.”
—HEBREWS 13:4
I married Levi on a deadly cold night in December.
I invited Grant to the wedding. He was a friend and I would have felt bad not too. I sent the invitation through Dylan. It’d been months since I’d seen him, or even heard his name. I was certain he wouldn’t show up—that he’d moved on.
Giving up Grant wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be—not like giving up lutefisk for Lent, this was like giving up real food during a famine.
Even with my wedding approaching, I was still consumed by an internal melee. In the summer I knew I couldn’t stay with Levi. In the winter I knew I couldn’t leave him. Summer or winter, Grant or Levi, risk it or save it.
Whatever happened, the indecision just needed to end, and as soon as I put on that Cosmobella dress, it would end. I would be committed, and I would keep my promise. I was a woman of integrity who keeps her promises. Like that psychic said, it might be hard, but I could make it work. I had to. Besides, at the core of my being, my desire for Grant was just a biological effort to spread my genes—right? If anyone could overcome that, it was me.
***
The architecture was breathtaking. Sweeping views of fine art lined the walls on all four floors, and evergreen trees flocked with snow filled every corner breathing their fresh oxygen into the air. An art gallery by day and an elegant wedding venue by night, the building was a vintage marvel of exposed brick and polished wood floors.
The center atrium reached up through three stories surrounding the main floor with ornate wrought-iron balconies. Distressed wooden pillars wrapped in thousands of twinkling lights rose high into the cathedral ceiling. There were pink and white poinsettias air brushed with silver glitter to greet our guests, as Edwin McCain and Peter Cetera filled the air with love ballads. Wedding guests in black suits and sparkling dresses adorned the balconies like ornaments as they gazed down on the winter wonderland.
Lissy was my closest friend. She was ten years my elder, wise beyond her years yet still youthful in every way. She was the only one bold enough to ask me the question that no one else dared.
“Honey, are you sure this is what you want to do? It’s not too late to change your mind,” she said as she straightened the little white flowers that pinned up my long, straight hair.
“I have to,” I told her, “it’s the right thing to do and besides how could I live without him? How could I raise Dani alone? He’s a good guy. He loves us, and I don’t even have to change my last name!” I teased. But it was true, Ms. Summers was about to become Mrs. Summers.
“Honey, you shouldn’t marry him unless you really want to be with him, don’t do this out of obligation.”
“Lissy, no marriage is perfect,” I said. Regurgitating that and a few other clichés about marriage like, “What Levi and I have is better than nothing, we get along most of the time,” I said.
I’d only known of marriages that were work and stress and compromise. So what I had with Levi seemed normal. It was the kind of marriage everyone else had. My clients bitched about their husband’s, my mom had been complaining about my dad for twenty years, and my grandma about my grandpa for fifty. I turned to face Lissy, “I can’t back out now,” I said. “I’m already in my dress. And all marriages are hard work, right?”
She didn’t respond with reassurance. “I was just asking,” she said gently. “Divorce is hard. I would know, and I don’t want to see you go through that.”
“Honey, I love you for looking out for me and telling me the truth.” I hugged her tight, shut my eyes and felt tears threaten to ruin my make-up. Tears I couldn’t explain— they were neither happy nor sad, they were just tears coming from somewhere deep inside. Then with my chin on her shoulder, “I love Levi,” I said.
“Then it’s time.”
I floated down two flights of stairs in a feather light ivory gown. Handmade with a heart shaped neckline, flowing fabric, and minimal embellishment. It was a simple and ethereal looking dress with long sheer sleeves that fluttered as I walked.
Dani was four, and old enough to ask why mommy and daddy weren’t married. Now she was finally getting her wish and I was happy to give her a normal home life.
In pink chiffon, strappy sparkling shoes, and a chocolate brown ring made of coconut she’d refused to take off she marched unafraid down the aisle, then took her seat in the front row with our families.
I saw Levi’s face as he waited for me. His skin was smooth and his sandy hair was in the perfect amount of disarray. He looked dashing in a charcoal suit with an ivory shirt and tie as he stood underneath a shower of white lights strung up like icicles. The love he had for me and Dani showed on his face. Peace and contentment filled his eyes where anger and contempt had often been.
I marched slowly along the promenade with my mom and dad on each side. Smiling and acknowledging our guests, I glanced through the crowd and for a moment, he flashed through my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was there, watching me.
I wondered what he would be thinking. Would he care, even in the slightest? My eyes scanned passed dozens of faces but there were too many and not enough time.
Do all women wonder if they’re marrying the right person the very moment they walk down the aisle? I wondered, then dismissed my curiosity as just that, eternal uncertainty about the right or wrongness of my decisions.
Halfway through the ceremony we brought Dani up to stand between us. She was beaming from the united attention of her parents and a hundred pairs of watering eyes.
“Will you promise to raise Dani with faith, patience and love?” asked our female pastor. She was a woman of the Episcopalian faith, a religion I’d never heard of before I went searching for someone to tie our knot in the most secular way possible.
“We will,” we spoke in unison, then latched a heart-shaped ruby necklace around her little neck, a symbol of our promise. As we knelt down and hugged our little girl, sniffles and whimpers emerged from the crowd.