Mid-Life Crisis Diaries (12 page)

Just then, an arm circled around Marsha’s waist and Andre slipped his fingers into the waist of her shorts.
Thank God.
Blake’s eyes widened and all the color drained from his face. It didn’t last long though, he was almost immediately beet red and Marsha realized this wasn’t a look she’d ever seen on his face before. She’d seen it plenty of times in her practice, of course. Sometimes it was the calm before the storm, and the jealous partner would rage out and smash everything in their path. And sometimes they would crumble under the weight of realizing that they’d mishandled precious goods that were in their possession and they suddenly realized they wanted the goods back. Blake didn’t look like either of these things. Marsha filed through decades of faces that she’d catalogued him making and couldn’t help but laugh at this new one.

“What’s the matter, hon? Cat got your tongue? I was civil to your guest, could you do me the same courtesy?”

At that moment anyone within arm’s reach could almost see the steam rolling from Blake’s ears like a cartoon character. He didn’t move. Andre, as calm and cool as he’d ever been, extended his free hand between them.

“Andre. Nice to meet you.”

Marsha imagined Andre making a thousand handshakes just like this, completely in control of himself and the situation, but leaving the other person feeling respected, too, no matter the circumstance. Marsha could tell from Andre’s face that he had no idea who’s hand he was shaking. And when her husband still didn’t take his hand, Marsha intervened. It was one thing to be rude to her, but not to a stranger.

“Blake.” Her words cut through the staring contest he was having with himself and grunted, reaching out to shake hands awkwardly. His face was still red and he was breathing through his nose, a single nod was all he offered. “Careful there, you’ll blow a gasket.”

Jessica snorted and ribbed him with her stupid tiny elbow, but he shot her a look that silenced her pretty quickly and she looked around like she was suddenly interested in the sculpture they were standing closest to.

“We just had some pie.” Andre offered, extending his arm and gesturing toward the people who were righting the table near them and refilling the table with new pies. “They were delicious, as you can see. Even the birds like them.”

Dozens of seagulls had taken to swooping down for bits of treat from the street and tourists were taking pictures of the whole thing. Somewhere, someone was going to go home with vacation pictures that included four adults standing awkwardly close to each other, not saying a word, and some very pissed off vendors grumbling in the background. But the birds! The birds would be nice.

“Would you care to join us for a cappuccino or something else to eat?” Andre asked.

Jessica looked terrified at the thought and glanced up in hopes that Blake would say no. Marsha watched Andre’s beautiful face to see if there was any sign of discomfort in realizing who he was talking to, and she wasn’t surprised to find that he was as genuinely cheerful as ever. When she looked back at Blake, she caught him staring Andre down with the fiercest
That is my territory
gaze she’d seen in person! Funnily enough, she wasn’t his territory anymore…unless he wanted her to be. Her heart ached a little at the thought, but then she remembered that he’d lied about where he’d been and was now standing in front of her with some goofy blonde girl that looked as though she hadn’t had a real adult conversation in her whole life. Marsha pitied the girl, this kind of conversation is one of those that creates a permanent memory in your mind, kind of like a trauma. The thought made her laugh out loud, knowing that she would be the crazy pie table lady in this poor girl’s memory for the rest of her life. She had half a mind to just bust out into a jig right there on the
Malecon
strip, really cementing that memory in there for good. Making sure it didn’t go anywhere.

“I’m starving,” Blake answered. “Let’s go.” He gestured toward Andre to allow him to lead the way, and cool as a cucumber.

Andre paid the vendor and gave him a generous tip for the ruined pie thenslid his arm from Marsha’s waist and wrapped his fingers in hers as they walked toward a restaurant. Any restaurant. Anywhere that didn’t serve pie.

C H A P T E R  19

T
he four of them walked into a small café tucked into the side of a row of buildings, and Andre held the door for all of them. Blake stopped at the doorway and tried to hold the door for Andre in a show of manhood, but Andre didn’t even flinch. He just said thank you, after you and waited until Blake huffed and puffed his way through the door. Marsha and Jessica stood near the counter together and Marsha, having the upper hand since she was not new to awkward situations
or
Blake’s mini tantrums, just smiled as if nothing were out of the ordinary. It clearly made the girl uncomfortable and she clamored for Blake’s arm as soon as he got in the door. Poor girl, she was lost without him. He squared his shoulders when she laced her arm through his, as though he’d suddenly regained his confidence and was ready to puff his feathers a bit.

After a few moments, he stepped up to the counter and ordered a full breakfast. Marsha sighed because that meant they’d be there for a while, but she let it go. What else could she do? Blake then turned to his girlfriend and then back to the worker.

“She’ll have a latte and a mini quiche.”

Marsha’s heart stung with the pang of loss. She didn’t look at the girl, because she couldn’t stomach it, but she wanted Blake to order her food again, too. She knew he was making a show of it at the moment because he turned his head slightly so that Marsha could make sure she knew what he was doing. That hurt even worse, it felt like he was trying to one-up her, even though he had no reason to. He was the reason she was here in the first place. Blake adjusted his shirt and they stepped to the side.

Andre walked straight up to the counter and, while lightly stroking the small of Marsha’s back, ordered their second breakfast in ful Spanish. It was so glorious it made her ears tingle, among other things, and she grinned at him. It was the only thing she could do besides an outright giggle, which she thought might be rude. She didn’t dare look at Blake, though. Or Jessica for that matter!

Too late.

Jessica sighed and practically fawned over Andre’s thick, sultry voice, which he had clearly ramped up for the occasion. Marsha had never been prouder to have a young twenty something on her arm as she was right then. All that he’d helped her through, all that he’d listened to, this was the icing on the cake.

“Do it again!” Jessica squealed. Blake answered by clearing his throat, which made Marsha squint her eyes. When she opened them, still grinning, Andre smiled and winked at her. She didn’t even care what he’d ordered her! She’d eat it and love it.

While waiting for the food to arrive, Blake stared forcefully at Andre, as if he were trying to intimidate him. Andre pretended not to notice, of course, and mostly talked to Jessica. The man was nothing if not polite and easy to talk to. The conversation ended up on real estate, which was suddenly very interesting to the young girl. Marsha excused herself to the ladies room, running her hand along the back of Andre’s neck as she left the table without thinking about it. Just outside the restroom, someone grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“Are you kidding me with this guy? Where did you pick him up?” Blake looked angry and hurt.

“C’mon, Blake.” Marsha pulled her arm gently from his grasp. He let go, but it took a moment. “You’re here with someone, too. You don’t have any reason to be upset.”

“He’s hitting on my
wife!
I have a big problem with that. And you’re letting him!”

The nerve of him to say that after leaving me.
Marsha knew she should laugh at this moment because of the ridiculousness level of the conversation, but she decided to take the high road and just talk to him. After all, he obviously had some feelings he needed to get out, and she was a professional healer of sorts. Maybe she could help him through whatever was bothering him. The thought made her want to laugh again, but she held it in.

“Whatever you need to say, you might as well get it out. I have business to attend to.” Marsha motioned toward the ladies room door with her head.

Blake scoffed and ran his finger through his hair, something he did when he was nervous. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t like it.”

“Like what, dear?”

“Don’t call me dear. We’re not—”

“Well, make up your mind, Blake. We either
are
or we
aren’t
. You can be mad about being married to me or you can be mad about someone seeing value in my company. But you can’t have it both ways. Which is it?”

He didn’t answer her, and instead looked around the room aimlessly, shaking his head.

“Forget it.” She waved her hand in the air. “That’s not for you to decide.”

“How long have you known this loser anyway?” He demanded. It didn’t faze Marsha a bit. She wasn’t offended for Andre’s sake or anything that she expected to be. She simply smiled at her husband.

“Whether you think someone is a loser or not says more about your quick judgment of people than anything else. I met him through a mutual friend, and we’ve just been hanging out. He shows me around and takes me to eat. That’s pretty much it. And as it is, everything that I do is really none of your business.”

Blake laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s it. Not that way he was touching you. And what’s with his accent? What’s that about?”

This time Marsha did laugh out loud, and didn’t even acknowledge the statement with a response. She’d known Blake her whole adult life, there was nothing that could be said to convince him of anything at this point.

He paced back and forth for a moment, and when she was sure he wasn’t going to say anything else, she clapped her hands together loudly.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me…”And she pushed the small door and disappeared behind it.

What was he thinking? He had no right to be jealous after bringing her here!
Good grief!
Marsha grinned at herself in the mirror on her way to the stall. She sure
did
have a young hot thing on her arm. And as soon as she thought the words, she knew Dr. Lee was right. Being with a younger man made her more desirable. Poor Blake was jealous! A grin played on her mouth.

She brushed her thoughts aside. If he really is jealous, then maybe there’s something there. Maybe we can work with that.

She filed through the last ten years or so worth of clientele and tried to assess what was going on in a purely professional manner, and couldn’t quite think clearly about it. There wasn’t any good way to see things with a clear head when it came to her own marriage and that really bothered her. She
wanted
to know how he felt, what was making him tick in this moment, so that she could see if there was a way through it or not. If there was no hope for them, no future where they could spend the rest of their lives together, then there wasn’t any need for her to carry resentment around.
Or hurt.
And she could resign herself to a reasonable level of sympathy that still kept her healthy and allowed her to sleep at night.

Marsha washed her hands and pulled the little bathroom door open to return to her table, and much to her surprise, Blake was still standing there. He leaned against the little wall that separated the different areas and he didn’t look cross or happy. He just looked like he was patiently waiting for someone. Not sure how to react, Marsha straightened her back, and Blake extended the crook of his arm. Reluctantly, Marsha slid her hand through it and he walked her back to the table without a word. Just before they reached the table, he cleared his throat and Andre turned toward them. Without a word of response, he looked at their arms, interlocked, and stood to pull the chair out for her. She just giggled and took her seat. For a brief moment, she enjoyed the small gesture of swords swinging for her honor and tried not to think too much of it.

As soon as they sat down, on opposite corners of the table from one another, she and Blake didn’t say a word to each other. It wasn’t to prove any point, really, it was just that Jessica and Andre kept up the entire conversation on their own. Andre being himself, and Jessica being completely enamored with him. She had a full on flirty pout going until their food arrived, and then barely touched her food because she was so enthralled at hearing Andre’s list of places he’d been. Any passer-by, judging by the way Jessica would stop and rest her chin on her hands and kick her legs under the table, would have assumed that Andre was telling tales of his adventures on the high seas.

When they left, Andre reached out to shake Blake’s hand, there was only a moment of hesitation before he caught Marsha’s eye and then shook it forcefully, as if proving a point.

Congratulations, dear. You can shake a hand. You want a cookie?

Marsha decided not to rub it in as they were leaving the restaurant, and instead of holding Andre’s hand, she simply walked at a respectable distance from him, and of course, he was fine with that. Always content to make her at ease. They caught each other’s eye as they walked down the path past where Marsha had knocked the pie table over. The gentleman behind the table made a hand gesture at her and the language was so universal that she just nodded sheepishly and looked back at Andre. They shared the sweetest look for a few long seconds, and Marsha had never been more sure in her life…that she was unsure of what to do.

Everything in me, professionally and common sense wise, tells me to wait for Blake to pull his head out of his ass and then take him back. He was so sweet to wait for me at breakfast, and that obviously means there’s something there…right? Then again, Andre has never once been anything but what I need in every moment that I’ve known him. And that’s a tall order, considering I was an uptight bitch a few weeks ago. He’s literally helped me transform into a better version of myself.

She decided, without doing the typical movie thing of looking back over her shoulder to see if Blake was watching them walk away, to call Dr. Lee this evening and ask her advice. She was pretty sure it’d be vague, but helpful. And all she needed was a little perspective. Looking out over the horizon at the endless water, Marsha felt small and like her problems were just that…small problems in a big world. And she thought to herself that getting a little perspective on things might come easier than she thought.

Turning back to Andre, she finally took his hand in hers, and they walked down the long rows of sculptures, food, and art vendors until their feet could take no more. It felt like the longest day of her life, and in the best way possible.
Except for the pies.

On their way back to the car, Marsha pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time. To her surprise, there was a new text message.

You looked very pretty today.
It was from Blake.

***

By the time they reached the condo, both she and Andre were very tired, so they opted to turn on the television and relax for the evening. They’d already lightly touched on the fact that they’d both be comfortable with him spending the night, no matter what happened, so there was no pressure to do anything at all except enjoy each other’s company. And they did just that. But the silence seemed to be awkward and Andre kept studying Marsha’s expression.

He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice how jealous Blake was today.”

Marsha couldn’t look at Andre. Thoughts of Blake consumed her. How could he be so cold-hearted and nonchalant when he left her and now be so attentive to her? She pushed her thoughts aside, reminding herself of what he did to her. She wouldn’t be in Mexico if this never happened.

Andre still had his eyes glued on her. “Are you considering going back to him?”

Marsha picked up the remote and changed the channel.

As if on cue, Andre didn’t press on the subject and instead wrapped his arms around her waist, bring her closer to his chest.

Closing her eyes, Marsha made a mental note to never take Andre for granted.

At about eleven, Marsha started to drift off to sleep. They were both lying on their bellies, facing forward toward the television like high school kids. Her head fell down into her folded arms and she lay there in between sleep and awake. She couldn’t stop thinking about Blake’s text, and how surprising and refreshing it was just to be noticed by him. No sooner did she shed a tear after she recalled that he was with a woman. She felt Andre brush a hair from her face.