Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage (10 page)

S
ylvia followed the attendant through a labyrinth of halls before finally entering her treatment room. She placed her jacket on a coat rack in a far corner and forced a lid on her nerves as she examined her surroundings. The sound of soft music met her ears, causing her insides to tingle.

The room was serene and dimly lit by mod lamps that adorned the walls. Palm trees and exotic plants were strategically placed throughout giving the room the feel of a tropical island. The mood was enhanced by the sound of the small fountain tucked amidst the foliage. Cotton robes hung outside a marble shower that was separated from the main room by a bamboo divider. A black leather table with steel legs stood alone in the middle of the room—the table where her naked body would lie while experienced hands manipulated her muscles into obedience.

The door opened, and a male dressed in a loose-fitting white cotton jacket and gray slacks entered the room. A girlish smile crossed Sylvia’s face in anticipation of what lay ahead. The masseur draped a clean sheet over the table, instructing her to take off her clothes, lay facedown on the table and cover her body with another sheet she was given. For the first time, Sylvia was able to see the masseur’s face. He was of Spanish descent, but more than that, he was the handsomest man Sylvia had ever seen. She blushed as the masseur turned to leave the room so she could get undressed.

“He’s going to get a big tip if he knows how to work it,” Sylvia said to herself.

“First time?” he asked, startling Sylvia as he turned to face her, catching the glow on her face.

Sylvia thought she was going to melt. His voice was deep and romantic. This was not the time to get cold feet. What if his voice hypnotized her and she fell into his clutches, where he would do what he liked to her body at will? She shuddered and drew the sheet close to her body, although she still had on all of her clothes.

“Uuhm, yes,” Sylvia said, a little embarrassed.

“I’ll be gentle. You have nothing to worry about. My name is Andreas.” And he walked out the door.

Sylvia looked around the room afraid to speak. She squeezed the sheet tight, then released it. This was the kind of moment when she needed to consult her girls. She wondered how Rachel and Mona were doing with their facials.

“Okay, Sylvia,” she said out loud to no one. “Let’s do this. You were the one who wanted to play in the mud, wanted to feel a man’s touch, wanted her body rubbed, wanted to moan and groan while every muscle in her body was kneaded and twisted. Oh yes, I’m going to do this. My name is Andreas,” she mimicked the masseur, shaking her head as she did so.

Sylvia eased out of her clothes and placed them neatly on a chair nearby. She crossed the room and stood at the foot of the table, inspecting it for who knows what. Then that crazy smiled skipped across her face again, and she crawled onto the sheet-covered table, placing the other sheet over her body.

“Rachel Washington?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Follow me, please. My name is Anika, and I’ll be giving you your facial today.”

“Sounds great.”

“Your skin looks beautiful. It appears that you’re doing all the right things to keep your skin looking healthy.”

“I do try to eat right. It’s the men in my life that cause my body stress. That’s why my girlfriends and I are here today—makeovers to revitalize our bodies so that we’ll be fresh when we meet our new somebody.”

Rachel and Anika laughed.

“I think it’s a great idea that you and your girlfriends came together to support one another,” Anika commented as she ushered Rachel into her treatment room.

“Truth is, my girlfriend, Sylvia, brought a few of us divorced women together, and we now have what you call a support group. Sylvia calls it the Ex-Files. Our ultimate goal is to move forward in our new life as an Ex and help each other overcome emotional suicide after a bad divorce. And when we have made it, we will have cleaned out our Ex-Files.”

“Hmmm, that sounds wonderful.” There was a long pause. “Look,” Anika continued, her voice now a soft whisper, “do you have room for one more person?”

Rachel jerked her head so that she could see Anika’s face.

“Sure. I’ll talk with Sylvia. She’s getting a full-body massage right now, but I’ll see her when we all come together for lunch. I’ve been going on and on and had no idea…”

“It’s okay. Today is my lucky day, I guess. Sometimes, it’s all about timing. Now sit in this chair so I can do your facial. I don’t want to cheat you on what you’re supposed to have since I have another client in thirty minutes.”

“I’m not going to let you cheat me,” Rachel assured her. “How long…how long has it been since you were divorced?”

“A month. He said he really wasn’t ready to be tied down. If only I had known that before my parents spent ten grand on the wedding of my dreams two years ago, I would be a much happier person today.” Anika began examining Rachel’s face, but that didn’t stop the other woman from replying.

“Shut your mouth. I ought to be giving
you
a facial and a massage. You’ve been through a lot. Girl, I’ve been down the aisle three times and divorced just as many, so I’m kind of numb when it comes to divorce court. Our group was the one thing I needed to make me look at life differently, though. We’ve only had two meetings, but I feel rejuvenated already, and if there should be a number four in my life, oh well, I’ll just have to wait and see. It’s not because I need a man, mind you. I like having a special someone to go out to dinner or a play with every now and then. Bottom line is I’m feeling good about myself again—confident.”

“Well, my new friend Rachel, I’m your first stop today at the station called confidence. And if you don’t mind, I’m going to ride with you.”

“Well, come aboard, Anika. There’s an empty seat with your name on it.”

Sleep was an easy option as Sylvia lay facedown on the table, waiting for Andreas to return. The steady trickle of water and the soothing music relaxed her so much that she forgot where she was. Then she heard the door open, gently, then close but without the sound of footsteps. Then he spoke—his voice so soft and sensual that it paralyzed Sylvia from the head down.

“Are you comfortable?” Andreas asked.

Was she comfortable? She was darn near scared out of her wits.

“Yes,” came her feeble reply.

“All right, we’ll get started. I need you to place your arms by your sides and relax.”

How am I going to relax,
Sylvia thought to herself,
with his handsome body swooning over me and whispering sweet nothings in my ear
. She placed her arms at her sides obediently. “I’m ready.”

“First, I’ll start with our Signature Mud Massage. It will be a little cool to the touch, but when I’m finished you will feel renewed.”

Sylvia felt a slight chill as the sheet was lifted from her left hip and leg. Strong, sinewy hands glided over her buttock in a circular motion, massaging a light mud mask deep into the muscle. Then Andreas’ hands moved down her leg, applying more mud over her calf down to the ankle.

“Ahhhhh,” Sylvia sighed.

After Andreas finished the one side, he repeated his performance on the other. Then he drew the sheet down to work on Sylvia’s back, finishing at the nape of her neck. Sylvia was so relaxed she couldn’t move. There had to be healing in those hands.

Andreas let Sylvia lie a few minutes on her stomach.

“It’s time to turn over,” Andreas said softly not wanting to threaten the mood.

Sylvia wasn’t sure how she was going to accomplish this without exposing her goodies, but Andreas left the room as if reading her mind while she exchanged one side of her body for the other. Andreas returned on cue and worked on her legs and her arms.

Sylvia felt rejuvenated. She closed her eyes, casting her inhibitions to the sky. The feel of Andreas’ hands was much too much for her, but she was anticipating the moment when he would touch her breasts, which were past due for an examination by a handsome gentleman. She was ready and waiting.

Then Andreas said, “Relax for ten minutes, then take a shower. Everything you need is behind the partition. When you’re finished, lie back on the table for a final rubdown. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

Sylvia’s eyes popped open and stared at the ceiling. She moved the sheet from her breasts and stared. He hadn’t touched them
—no mud, no hands, no sensation. She had been robbed of the one thing she had really wanted after succumbing to this handsome man. She’d been cheated, cheated, cheated!

Sylvia swung her legs over the table and slipped off, holding the sheet tight around her body. As the music continued to soothe her, she loosened the sheet and let it slide from her bosom, draping it loosely around her hips. She waltzed to the music as graceful as a swan, performing several pirouettes before gliding toward the bamboo room divider. And for her last act, she dropped the sheet and shook her groove thing while extending her arms to the sky. She smiled seductively, then disappeared behind the divider and into the shower.

S
ylvia, Rachel and Mona were assembled in a medium-size room that held a table, a refrigerator, a TV and built-in shelves full of spa literature. Large palms sat among African artifacts—masks, statues, ceremonial robes—from the Ashanti tribe. The room was painted a dark salmon color, adding to the mystique. The same lamps that Sylvia saw in the room where she received her massage hung on the wall here as well.

Lunch was served on salmon-colored mats. Sliced turkey sat between a sliced croissant. A bag of chips and a glass of raspberry tea completed lunch. The television was on, the volume turned low.

“How was your massage, Sylvia?” Rachel began, anxious to get the details.

“It was divine—better than sex.”

“At $300 a pop,” Mona chimed in, “it better be.”

“Details, details,” Rachel pushed.

“A man with wonderful hands just gave me the most wonderful massage I’ve ever had. He massaged every muscle on my body.”

“Mmm-mmm,” Rachel said. “Sylvia looks pretty satisfied. Don’t you think, Mona?”

“Yeah, there is something different about her. I want to know if it was so good that it made you want to do things you couldn’t tell your mama about.”

Sylvia smiled. “Eat your lunch. In fact, I think we should be talking about how Ms. Rachel is going to feel after her date tonight.”

“Date? With whom?” Mona asked. She threw her hands up in disbelief.

“The one and only Marvin Thomas—your Mr. CEO,” Sylvia offered.

“Oh really? And just what did you have to do to get his attention? Bend over backward or feign a headache so he would come running?” Mona said nastily.

“Mona, you sound as if you want Marvin for yourself,” Rachel retorted. “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. Just know this my friend, me and the CEO are having dinner tonight.”

“Umph, you’ll mess that up, too.”

“Okay, ladies,” Sylvia cut in. “We’re here on a healing journey.”

“Speaking of healing, Rachel, did Sylvia tell you that she’s hanging out with Kenny again?”

“Kenny? Kenny who?” Rachel asked.

“Kenny Richmond,” Mona replied. “Our girl took him to the Gordons’ fund-raiser. Can you believe that?”

“Oh,” was all Rachel could say as she looked at Sylvia with disappointment in her eyes.

“Thanks, Mona,” Sylvia said with disgust. “This trying to get on with our lives is difficult with the two of you. I’m going to get my facial.”

“Speaking of facials,” Rachel began, “I was telling the young lady who does the facials why we came to the spa, and she asked if she could join our group. Poor thing was only married two years, and she’s so young.”

“Sounds like a shoo-in to me,” Mona said. “This place gives great manicures and pedicures.” She stuck out her hands to show off her nails. “But right now I’m hungry and if you don’t mind, I’d rather eat than talk.”

They laughed and then there was quiet.

“We may fuss and get on each other’s nerves,” Sylvia said, “but I’m glad we’re here together. It helps the pain.”

“Same here,” Rachel said.

Mona picked up the remote and began surfing through the channels. “Look at that,” Mona exclaimed, pointing toward the TV.

“What is it?” Rachel asked. “You’re messing with my peace and tranquility.”

“You weren’t studying peace and tranquility a minute ago. Yak, yak, yak,” Mona said.

“What is it?” Sylvia asked.

“Now that Tiger is cute.” Mona grinned. “I like that red polo on my man. This must be a recap of what happened this past Sunday.”

“I’m not talking about Tiger,” Sylvia said, her voice raised. “My God, Adonis is in the stands with that prehistoric hoochie.”

“Where?” Rachel snapped, eyes glued to the TV. “I think you’re imagining things.”

“That is Adonis.” Mona pointed. “Sylvia, your man is sitting in the stands at the U.S. Open with another woman.”

“I can’t believe the camera keeps panning his unfaithful face. Look at them, sitting up there like they’re the king and queen of Pinehurst, Pinewood, Pinecrest…whatever it’s called,” Sylvia stuttered.

“Don’t hate,” Mona said. “Anybody that would dig up the past like yesterday’s trash…”

“He never took me to a golf tournament.”

“Because you never wanted to go, Sylvia,” Rachel pointed out.

“They’ve just panned past him
again
. I’m going to call the TV station…”

“And tell them what, you crazy girl?” Rachel asked.

“That they have violated FCC regulations. Showing those two ugly faces on national TV is worse than Janet Jackson showing her breast.”

Rachel and Mona giggled.

“You are too funny, Sylvia,” Rachel said.

“I think Adonis looks tired,” Mona quipped. Rachel covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“Can you believe Adonis has the nerve to showboat that piece of trash out in public? That man has no shame.” No one responded and Sylvia fingered her sandwich, pouting as she did so.

Mona and Rachel stared at Sylvia.

“Don’t act like you don’t understand my pain,” Sylvia said, refusing to let go.

Mona cleared her throat. “You have Kenny,” she whispered.

Rachel coughed and cleared her throat. She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “I don’t believe it,” Rachel said at last. “Kenny the asshole Richmond.”

“Forget you wenches. I’m through trying to explain to you two fools what it’s like to be with the same man for twenty years and all of a sudden he experiences the male change of life while you’re having your own private summer and neither of you can put two and two together. Then he decides one day that he’s going to venture out because he doesn’t know what in the hell he wants, like he’s been walking in this great big circle, and ends up in the arms of this ancient nightmare.”

“You are so dramatic, Sylvia,” Rachel said, still holding in a day’s worth of laughs.

“‘Dramatic,’ am I? Nooooooo, you don’t understand because you’ve never had a man”—snap snap went Sylvia’s fingers—“this long.”

“That was a low blow, Sylvia,” Rachel said. “This isn’t about me or Mona. You didn’t have to go there.”

“Yeah. It was your man on national TV,” Mona quipped.

Sylvia could feel the tears well up, and the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Rachel and Mona.

“I’ve had enough. I’m going to get my facial, and I’m outta here.”

“You can’t leave without me,” Rachel said calmly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Sylvia said.

“Enough of this apologizing. Let’s finish up,” Mona said. “I’ve got a date with my twins’ daddy.”

Sylvia and Rachel looked at her. “Those twins aren’t real, Mona,” Sylvia said.

“You need to exfoliate Adonis out of your brain, Sylvia, and leave me alone. Leave that man with his ancient ho and live your life.”

Sylvia was silent. Thoughts of Kenny bounced around in her brain. She needed a fix, but wasn’t that why she was at the spa?

Mirrors don’t lie
, Rachel thought, as she tossed her bangs about her forehead, batted her eyes and swiped her fingers through her hair like she was a contestant for
America’s Next Top Model
. In fact, she thought she was much better-looking than any of those girls, and though she was petite, she could work a runway from Milan to Tokyo. And her body felt wonderful after the massage she had today.

Tonight had very little to do with how well she walked a runway or posed for a camera. It had everything to do with capturing a man’s heart—yes, a man’s heart, although less than two weeks ago she’d vowed to herself that men would be banned from her life. Rachel hadn’t counted on Marvin Thomas making a liar out of her.

Although Rachel experienced disappointments in life, mostly self-inflicted, she was proud of what she had been able to accomplish. She was a senior account executive at IBM which enabled her to afford the beautiful house she now owned in the suburbs.

A smile crossed her face as she looked at her surroundings. Warm colors adorned the walls throughout Rachel’s house. After throwing Reuben out, Rachel wanted something more tranquil, something more inviting to her soul. The strength of the colors warmed her, cuddled her, made her feel safe—the one thing Reuben or the other exes could never do. Marvin was somehow different, but tonight was all about fun, fine wine and dining. Discovery would be later. But that was Rachel’s problem. She never took the time to discover if she had picked a weed or a strong, thick vine.

Rachel looked at the clock, dabbed a little more lipstick on her lips and sprayed herself with perfume. She hoped Marvin would like her green-and-white polka-dot, Italian cotton summer dress with a green patent-leather belt running around her waist. She bought it especially for their first date. She also picked up a pair of strappy green stilettos as well. He would be hypnotized by her beauty and style. And she would have Marvin right where she wanted him.

Nerves replaced self-confidence as Rachel paced from room to room. She looked at her watch. Marvin was fifteen minutes late. All those good feelings were starting to fade when the doorbell rang.

She ran to the door on jet fuel and jerked it open before the doorbell could ring a second time. Rachel could not contain the smile that was upside down only moments earlier.

“Hel-lo, Mr. Thomas,” she said.

“Marvin is fine.” He smiled.

“Hello, Marvin.”

“Aren’t you beautiful.” Marvin was unable to take his eyes away from Rachel. “Wow, you are absolutely gorgeous. That dress looks stunning on you.”

“Well, thank you.” Rachel blushed. “Do come in.”

“Ummm, nice home. Warm, inviting. I like it.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“Oh, I do. I don’t understand why the others—the guys in your Ex-Files—didn’t get it.”

Rachel blushed again, although it did conjure up bad memories. “I say it’s their loss.”

“Certainly is,” Marvin agreed. “Certainly is.”

“Would you like something to drink before we go to dinner?”

“Yes, I would.”

Rachel went to the wet bar and brought back two glasses of Chardonnay.

“So tell me about your wife.”

Marvin took a sip of his drink. “What do you want to know?” Marvin said, somewhat dejected.

“I know it’s a hard subject to talk about, but I’m curious to know why the woman in your Ex-Files was crazy enough to forfeit the best.”

Rachel sat down and motioned for Marvin to join her on the couch. She was sorry, almost as soon as the first word left her mouth, that she had steered the conversation in this direction. She felt terrible.

Marvin sat next to Rachel, arms folded across his chest. His voice was soft as he spoke.

“You remind me of Denise.”

Rachel shrank back, not sure what to think.

“I mean…you’re both petite and beautiful. She was the woman of my dreams, and I had big plans for our future.”

Rachel realized that she had made a second mistake in the ten minutes since Marvin had entered her house. It was obvious that Marvin still loved his wife—rather, his ex-wife. Rachel had turned the windup toy on, and now she couldn’t get him to stop. She tuned out his soliloquy—his sad, tale of an unfaithful wife—one second into his story.

Marvin was very handsome. Rachel digitized him into her memory one pixel at a time. She didn’t realize he had stopped talking until he touched her arm.

“Are you okay, Rachel?”

She jumped. “Me? Yeah, I’m fine. I must have been daydreaming. Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m sure I bored you talking about Denise. It was so devastating, Rachel. But why talk about Denise when the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a long time is sitting on the couch next to me?”

Rachel’s cheeks ballooned.

“You’re blushing,” Marvin said. “And what pretty dimples.”

“Why do you still wear your wedding ring?” she blurted.

Marvin sighed. “Sometimes it’s hard to let go. You try to hang on as long as you can until one day you wake up and realize time has passed you by. And it cost a fortune.”

Rachel laughed and Marvin joined her.

“Why don’t we go to dinner?” he asked. “I’ve made reservations at a quaint little spot I hope you’ll like.”

“Just so long as you’re by my side, it doesn’t even matter,” Rachel replied.

Marvin looked at Rachel thoughtfully. Rachel smiled one great big smile.

“I love green ones,” Marvin said at last.

“What are you talking about?” Rachel asked.

“M&M’s. You remind me of a bag of green M&M’s—my favorite.”

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say or think, but I’ll assume it’s a compliment.”

“You’re beautiful, and I love that dress. Let’s go eat.”

“Okay.”