Cheating on Myself (5 page)

I groaned. “I’m not exactly ready to date. It’s been three days. I think I’ll take a little time for myself, no guys. Except you, of course,” I said to Anders with a smile.

“Girls?” Lily offered helpfully.

“Neither sex,” I said. “No sex, that is. I don’t need sex.”

Lily wiggled a finger at me. “Oh, but you do. You need sex. Sex will make you forget.”

“When is the last time you slept with Erik?” Anders asked abruptly. “I don’t mean to push, since it’s really not appropriate, but it’s an important question. Answer honestly.”

I glanced around the table and saw that all three sets of eyes were fixed on me. “A few weeks ago. Maybe more.”

Both Lily and Anders squealed. “No!”

Lily poured me more wine, while Anders slapped at the table. “It’s like you’re a virgin again.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so freaking dramatic,” I said. “A few weeks is not that weird.” Under my breath, I muttered, “Or a month or whatever.”

“You lived with your boyfriend. Was he doing self-service in the bathroom at night?” Lily snorted. “A little jerky-jerk in the intern room at lunch?”

Cat knocked her on the shoulder. “Hello? You’re talking about my brother, pervert.”

“First and foremost, he is Stella’s ex-boyfriend,” Lily argued. “He’s fair game. I don’t care if he’s the Pope’s brother, he’s getting picked on tonight.” Cat nodded, then topped off her wine glass and waved the empty bottle in the air to request another.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I threw my back out, got fat. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly been feeling romantic.”

Lily reached across the table and held my hands in hers. “I will share a little secret with you: sex is not always about romance, sweetheart. Maybe that’s what you learned reading Judy Blume, but things change when you grow up. Sometimes, it’s nice to fuck someone for the fun of it. To sex!” Lily cried out a little too loudly, holding her drink up, and I knew she’d crossed the line between buzzed and drunk.

Anders cringed.

“I’m going on nine weeks,” Cat said suddenly, a little too quietly to really hear over Lily’s whooping and laughing. “Maybe ten. Also, Travis and I sleep in separate bedrooms.”

The wine arrived then, and we all quieted down. I was the first one to speak after our glasses were all refilled. “Are you pregnant again?”

Lily and Anders both “
oh
-ed,” and we all looked to Cat for confirmation. “Nope, not pregnant. Just frigid, I guess.” She grinned. “I get it,” she told me. “You just get distracted, and other stuff takes over. I thought it was just couples with kids who had this issue, but it makes me feel a little less bad that you and Erik are—were?—in the celibacy club, too. You learn to forget there was once a sex life to be had, right?”

I nodded. That’s exactly what had happened. We just started to take each other for granted. Good sex was the first thing to go, foreplay was second, and eventually sex of all variety went away altogether. We’d never been super into exciting and spontaneous sex, but anything that might have been considered hot had cooled down years ago. Bummer, sure, but other stuff took over and mattered more. “I miss that early relationship sex,” I said, suddenly realizing I did. I thought back to the night at
Molto
, and to the tingling in my fingers as he’d stroked my hands. I thought about how alive that sensation could make me feel.

“It’s not ‘early relationship’ sex you need—you don’t need anything with the word relationship tied to it. You’re looking for spontaneous, off-limits sex.” Anders grinned, and the look on his face had me worried. “You just need to shake it up a little, roomie.”

“I’m not shaking anything until my ass shrinks back down to an acceptable size,” I said, laughing. “I’m getting myself put back together and then we can talk.”

Lily raised her glass. “I propose a toast… to convincing Stella her ass is in perfect shaking shape and to Cat’s comfortable celibacy.” We all clinked, and I felt a whole lot better than I had in weeks.

CHAPTER THREE

I stood in front of a locker at the Y, slowly pulling out my swimsuit and towel as naked, elderly women strutted around the locker room chatting. I carefully pulled off my shirt, then wrapped a towel around my curvy body as I discreetly slipped my bra and panties off and pulled on my one-piece. Looking down, I realized I hadn’t waxed in over a month. Surveying my surroundings, I quickly decided that just didn’t matter. It wasn’t like I was at water aerobics to meet men.

I’d been reluctant to meet with the massage therapist in Anders’ office, but in the spirit of turning over a new leaf and getting well, I’d gone to see her the day after our drinks marathon. Anders had been right. Forty-five minutes in therapist Sue’s tiny, fragrant office had made me feel like a different person. Sue had focused on “muscle release” and stretching, and I was pretty sure I now wanted to marry my therapist, just so I could bring her home with me every night. We’d gotten to talking during the session, and I’d told her my goal was to get back to exercising shape.

“Water aerobics,” Sue had said, pulling my foot gently toward the wall. “Trust me. It’s going to change your life.”

I did trust her, and that’s the only reason I was at the Y at seven in the morning the next Tuesday. I’d never been a pre-work exerciser—Erik and I always went together after work because it helped him sleep better if he went later in the day—but old people must have learned life lessons on the value of getting up early and getting exercise out of the way since all the pool classes were offered in the pre-dawn hours.

I stifled a yawn as I stepped into the shower room. I let the water run over my head, matting my dark curls into tight ringlets that clung close to my head instead of staying puffed up like a muffin (the usual morning ’do).

“You don’t have to get your hair wet,” a raspy voice said from across the tiled room. “Just rinse off the lady bits and you’re in business. That’s all they really need you to do.”

“Thanks,” I said, swallowing back a laugh.

The woman who had spoken was no more than five feet tall and weighed much less than Cat. Her swimsuit hung off her wiry frame, and she looked to be in her seventies. She was grinning at me. “You’re here for class?” she asked, sizing me up. “Good for you. It’s not a grueling workout since half of us have arthritis, but you can make it something if you make the effort. I’m Heather.”

“Stella,” I said. “This is my first time doing water aerobics.”

“No shit, Stella.” Heather reached for my arm. “Walk me out to the pool. I can’t rely on any of these other old bitches to help me out, so it’s good you’re here.” She and I shuffled toward the pool door together, and I felt her soft arm flesh rubbing against my own. It made me think of my grandmas, who’d both died when I was still a kid, and I suddenly felt a lot happier about my decision to come to water aerobics.

“Are you injured?” She stopped and looked me over. “You look like you work out—you’ve got a nice figure, and praise Jesus, you don’t look like one of those awful, skinny mannequins—but I’ve never seen you in class before.”

“I think I love you,” I told Heather, laughing about her nice figure remark. I opened the door between the locker room and the pool for both of us, and we shuffled our way across the pool deck to the shallow L-section of the pool. “I hurt myself doing yoga, and I haven’t been able to exercise in more than a month. I needed to find something that won’t strain my back.”

Heather patted my arm. “This class isn’t going to strain much, except your patience. Barbara talks through class—makes it impossible to get a decent workout if you try to listen. I’ll introduce you around. The girls are all going to want to set you up with their boys—sons, grandsons, godsons. I’ll wait my turn until I figure out if you’re normal or one of those shrill gals. Are you single?”

It was the first time I’d been asked this since Erik and I had broken up. Anders, Lily, and I had spent most of the past weekend getting my stuff out of Erik’s house (Lily had helpfully emailed him to find out when he’d be out of the house) and moving it into “my” house. It felt good to be home, and I’d been distracted enough that I hadn’t thought much about Erik. I was surprised at how little I was thinking of him, actually. I nodded to answer Heather’s question, and realized how normal it felt to be saying yes. “Newly single,” I said, hoping she’d take that as a hint that I wasn’t looking for anyone.

“Perfect. Barbara’s got a grandson who seems to only want casual flings, so we’ll start there. Barb’s pushy anyway, so the sooner we get her little shit out of the way, the better.” I stared at Heather. This was what Lily was going to be like in forty years, I realized. Something about the comparison made me feel even more comfortable with Heather.

“I’m not really looking to be set up right now. It was a long-term relationship that ended last week, actually.”

“Wah-wah,” Heather said, making a squeaky violin noise. “Time to move on. Life’s too short for moping, sweetheart. My husband died ten years ago, and I wasted too much time whining about being alone. Learn a lesson from an old lady, and get going now. Your body’s not going to look any better than it does right now.”

“I’m taking time for me. I’ve been in a committed relationship since I was twenty-two, and I think I started to forget who
I
was while we were dating.”

“You think you need to be alone to find yourself?” Heather started to walk down the sloping ramp into the pool. She let out a little moan as the water hit her belly button. “That’s bull-crap. All those self-help books these days tell you to go off and explore the world on your own, eat and pray your way to your soul. Blah, blah, blah. Sex is just as good for finding yourself as this so-called ‘reflection’ time. And you’ll be a lot less lonely.” She shook her head, then reached for a pair of inflatable bar-bells that were resting on the pool deck. “It’s your own damn fault you let the guy take over. Take yourself back, damn it. Just don’t bother doing it alone. You’ll just end up feeling sorry for yourself.”

I smiled at the advice. I hadn’t expected a therapy session at water aerobics. Heather made some good points, but I knew my situation was different. Just as I was about to tell her that, a gaggle of laughing women came through the door from the locker room into the pool area. One man emerged from the hot tub and joined everyone in the pool. There were a total of seven of us, including me, and I was easily forty years younger than anyone else in the class. I started to question this decision again, but I’d vowed to go to at least three classes before giving up. I had to get back to exercise, or I really was going to go crazy. My life felt like it was falling apart, and I knew it was partly because I was depressed and feeling awful about my appearance.

The woman who seemed to be the teacher was in her mid-fifties and heavyset. She was wearing stretchy leggings under her swimsuit, and had on a pair of running shoes. She introduced herself to me as Jean, asking about my experience with water aerobics.

“I’m new to this,” I said, and realized everyone was looking at me. I was standing off by myself, and realized they were all huddled together in a circle. I felt as out-of-place as I always did at Erik’s office holiday party.

“I’ll take things slowly so you don’t fall behind,” Jean said. “I lead the class from up here on the pool deck so you can see what you’re supposed to be doing with your legs under the water.”

Before we’d even finished our warm-up, a tall, stately woman (who reminded me of Bea Arthur from
Golden Girls
) lunged over to me in the pool. She didn’t say anything at first, but kept smiling at me, as though she had a secret. I smiled back, but tried to keep my focus on Jean. After all, I wasn’t there to make friends—I was there for a workout. “Jonathan is thirty-four,” Bea Arthur said suddenly, as we all did high-knee kicks.

“Excuse me?” I said, pretty sure I’d heard her correctly.

“Jonathan. My Jonathan, he’s thirty-four. Heather told me you were interested in him. He’s a musician.”

This must be Barbara
, I thought. Nothing could be less appealing than a musician. “I’m actually just getting out of a relationship—”

Barbara cut me off. “That’s what I hear. Jonathan doesn’t mind.”

I wonder if Jonathan knows his grandma is pimping him out at Water X Power?
I thought, my eyes widening. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just not a good time. I really appreciate it, though.”

Barbara huffed and scooted back toward the circle of women on the other side of the shallow end. I was left alone, feeling like a real jackass. I hadn’t realized water aerobics came with so many strings attached. As much as I’d enjoyed talking with Heather before class had started, I realized I would need to keep my distance from these women if I was going to have any hope of making it through class without a bunch of elderly enemies. I could hear them griping and sniping over in their little circle, and Jean reminded them to focus on their workout. Barbara lifted an eyebrow in Jean’s general direction and went right back to talking.

The lone gentleman in the class waited for me as we all followed Jean’s command to cross-country ski through the water to the deep end, riding atop water-noodles to help keep us afloat.

“You need to hold your own with these girls,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the gaggle of women striding slowly through the water behind us. “They’ll boss you around until you can’t think straight, if you let them. Believe me.” He grinned, and as he did, his fleshy chin dipped under the water.

“Thanks for the tip. I’m Stella, by the way.”

“That’s a pretty name. I’m Jim.” He held out his hand to shake, but that sent him under again so he pulled it back. “They just like to feel useful,” he said when he’d surfaced. “You’re fresh meat. I was the new guy a few months ago, and you can imagine what I went through. It was like they were all sharks, and I was the only fish.” He chuckled—at his water metaphor, I guessed. “At least I don’t have to listen to them in the locker room. If I were you, I’d take off a little early so you can shower and get the heck out of here before the real gossip starts.” He kicked desperately under the surface to stay above water.