Do or Di (22 page)

“My life or your life?”

“Both.” He took my hands into his own. “When we met I couldn’t believe you noticed me. Here was this beautiful woman flirting with me. It made me feel alive again. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t resist you.”

Why did it feel like he was trying to make the affair my fault? As if I was some kind of sultry home-wrecking vixen. I considered reminding him that he hadn’t mentioned his married state for some time. I gave a tired sigh. Jonathon pulled away from me and looked hurt.

“Sorry. I was just trying to explain how I felt,” he said.

“No, of course, I’m sorry.” My hands fluttered about looking for something to do. I needed to focus on this conversation. It had strayed from a relaxed dinnertime chat to serious “we need to talk” levels. What does it say about me if I can’t even hang on to a married man that I’m putting no pressure on? Men apparently don’t even want to commit to me when the commitment level required is almost nonexistent. “What are you trying to say? Are you ending things?”

“What exactly am I ending? What exactly are we doing?” He gestured to the rest of the room.

“I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you too, but I also love my kids. I don’t know what Brenda would do if I left, if she would keep them from me. I know I told you that I would ask for a divorce, and I will, but I have to be honest. I don’t know when I can do that. I can’t give you a timeline.”

I hated him for saying every married-guy-having-a-fling cliché in the book. It somehow made my choice to be with him worse. I needed him to have an original reason, like she was a terrorist and he was undercover, anything other than “S
he doesn’t understand me
.”

“I’m not asking you to leave your wife this minute, but you have to leave.”

“And you can settle for that? For having the parts of me that are left over?”

Jonathon seemed vaguely put off that I’d be the kind of person who would be with him.
I will not fail at this relationship.

“I like the parts of you that are left over. They’re worth waiting for more…parts.” I took a step forward and trailed my finger down the side of his face.

“You are so tiny,” Jonathon murmured in my ear as he nibbled on my neck.

“Petite.”

“More like perfect.” He nibbled his way down to my chest. I gave a deep, contented sigh. His lips were warm and a delightful mix of firm and soft. I felt the tension in my neck and shoulders loosen up.

“Mmmm.” I gave a quiet moan to let him know he was on the right track. It has been my experience that a bit of encouragement goes a long way. I ran my hands down his sides. His wife’s cooking must not be that bad; he’d put on a few pounds. I gave myself a mental slap.
Now is not the time to be thinking of his wife.

The more I tried to stop thinking about her, the more Jonathon’s wife Brenda kept popping up. It was like having a gopher in my brain. I would start thinking about the delightful things Jonathon was doing, or a recent Johnny Depp pirate fantasy that I conjure up once in a while and then whammo, she would pop up. To be precise, it wasn’t actually Brenda. I had never seen her in person and had only briefly looked at her picture, so instead it was my imagined version of her. She vaguely resembled a chunky Carol Brady. I wasn’t sure this was healthy. If I knew what she looked like it would be easier than picturing her looking like the suburban mom of my youth.

“What does your wife look like?”

“What?” Jonathon looked up from kissing my neck. His eyes were slightly glazed.

“I just wondered what Brenda was like. I’ve never seen her before, just that one picture.”

“Uh, I don’t really feel like talking about my wife right now.”

“Of course. Sorry.” I gave a sheepish shrug. What the hell was I thinking bringing up his wife? I kissed Jonathon deeply, trying to turn off the thinking part of my brain.

“Just relax.” Jonathon looked down at me. “Here lie down on your bed and I’ll give you a back rub.”

“I should give you a back rub.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you make it up to me later.”

“I’m sorry for being stupid. It’s just, she kept popping into my mind.”

“Talking about her isn’t going to help.” Jonathon gave a tired sigh. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” I stared into his eyes. “I swear.”

“I want to be with you.”

“And I want you here.” I took his hand.

“Roll over then. Let’s see if we can’t clear your mind.”

I rolled onto my stomach and felt Jonathon swing his leg over so he was sitting on my rear. His legs pressed hotly against mine. His hands began kneading the muscles in my upper back. I gave a deep sigh and tried to let go and clear my mind.

“Pssst.”

I opened one eye. That didn’t come from Jonathon. I gave the bedside clock a quick look 7:50pm. We had lots of time. I held my breath for a second and didn’t hear anything else. I laid my head back down.

“Psst.”

I opened my eyes again. I glanced behind me. There was a figure in the doorway. I gave a jump which jolted Jonathon out of his lust haze.

“What the…”

“Excuse me,” the voice said by the door.

“Jesus Christ!” Jonathon jumped up and stumbled against the nightstand knocking a stack of books onto the floor.

I yanked the chain for the lamp at my bedside. There at the door was Diana holding a pink sleeping bag. Never had my quiet apartment been so busy.

“What is it with you? Get the hell out of here.” Jonathon took a threatening step toward Diana. A low growl could be heard and then Rooster sprang between the two, his teeth bared. Jonathon took several quick steps back.

“I am an invited house guest,” Diana said.

I wanted to pull the covers over my head. “Diana and Rooster are going to stay with me for a bit.”

“Here?”

“Not in the bedroom. I’ll be sleeping in the other room,” Diana offered in case Jonathon was worried. “I didn’t mean to bother you, but I have some questions.”

“You aren’t the only one with questions,” Jonathon mumbled.

“Jonathon, you wait here, I’ll just go get Diana settled and be right back.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then led Diana and Rooster into the living room.

“I didn’t mean to be any trouble. I know I said I would be back later, but it’s raining.”

“No trouble.” I pushed down a sense of annoyance. This is why I didn’t have roommates. I pulled the air mattress out of the closet and started the tiny pump that inflated it. I looked over at my shoulder at Diana who was crouched down next to Rooster, her face buried in his fuzz.

“I brought my sleeping bag.” She held out the limp item. It was patterned in a Disney princess theme and covered in a layer of dog hair.

My annoyance disappeared. “How about we pop that into the washing machine. In fact, the washer is one of those large load things, we could drop your clothing in too.”

“Maybe I could take a bath too?” she asked softly.

“Of course.” I led her to the bathroom and pointed out where the towels were kept. We then went to the kitchen where we laid out kibble and water bowls for Rooster. The chicken I had made for Jonathon was still on the counter. Diana looked over at the bird.

“Big chicken for two people.”

“I made a large one because I knew you were coming.” I left out the part where I didn’t think she was coming until much later, like midnight; hours and hours from now kind of later. “Just make yourself at home.” I slipped out of the kitchen and hustled back to the bedroom.

Jonathon was sitting on bed pulling on his shoes. I spun my silver ring around my finger.

“Are you leaving?”

“You have to be joking.” Jonathon stood, buckling his belt. “You want to fool around in here with some homeless girl in the other room?”

“She’s not homeless. She just has some issues.”

“Well, that makes me feel ever so much better.”

“Why are you mad?”

“Why? How about because lately every time we get together something goes wrong? Is it asking too much for us to just enjoy our time together?”

“You’re acting like I’m the problem. I have a life that sometimes interrupts the time you allot to me. I’m sorry it’s complicated. Sorry it isn’t more convenient.”

“My life is not a game of truth and dare. I’m the one who’s risking something here.”

“You don’t think I’m risking something?” I fought the urge to pick up a pillow and throw it at him.

“What would that be exactly? I have a wife and children at home. I could lose everything over this and I don’t even know what
this
is. I’ve made you into a fantasy woman, but maybe I forgot fantasies are best left to the imagination.”

“I thought the point was we would be together, that it wasn’t imagination.”

“No, the point was that we could be together when the time is right. I don’t intend to lose everything in a divorce just to move your timeline along. You used to understand. Do you realize how much I have at stake?” Jonathon stared at me and then shook his head.

“Just because I’m not married doesn’t mean that I don’t have anything on the line. You make it sound like I’m harassing you, when you are the one who keeps making promises about the future. My best friend hardly speaks to me anymore because of our relationship.”

“You told your best friend? Not that Indian woman from the station?” Jonathon threw his hands up in the air and paced back and forth in front of my bed. His face was flushed. “Why don’t you just call my wife? Why bother fucking around and skip right to the chase?”

“Avita isn’t going to tell anyone.”

“Really? You know that for a fact?

“She’s my friend. I do have some ability to pick decent people in my life, present company currently excepted.”

“I thought you said she wasn’t your friend anymore after you risked all for me.”

“Look, why don’t you sit down? Everything is getting blown out of proportion.” I moved toward him but he stepped back out of my reach.

“This is my life. I don’t think how I’m reacting is out of proportion.”

“This is my life too.”

“Then maybe you’re willing to take risks with yours that I’m not willing to take with mine. Maybe you’ve got nothing to lose, but I do.” Jonathon pulled his jacket off the chair and walked past me. I turned and followed.

“So this is it? It’s over? You’re leaving because we had one fight?”

“Does everything have to be drama? You know if I wanted hassle and no sex I could stay with Brenda.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. I’m tired. Forget it. I need to get home. You can continue on with your pre-teen slumber party.”