The Seducer (25 page)

“Please let's do everything in our powers to save our marriage,” Ana said at the end of his recital with a sense of urgency.

“Why? Are you planning to leave me?” Rob's voice wavered between amusement and concern.

“I'm just touched by your song. It brings back so many beautiful memories,” Ana expressed only part of the truth. Ultimately, she lacked the courage to tell him why each note and each word of his song resonated with her current thoughts and feelings.

Karen surveyed the apartment to decide where to begin packing. The bedroom seemed like the most logical place. She opened the upper hand left dresser drawer and removed all of her underclothes, placing them at the bottom right side of the suitcase. She then pressed them down with her hand, to make sure there would be enough space left for the next drawer, which was filled with tee shirts and nightgowns. Last but not least, there was more than enough room in the suitcase for all of her sweaters: nine total to be exact. She deliberately left two of them behind, for when she'd return to visit him. Going over to the big closet, which they shared, proved somewhat more difficult. Seeing all of Michael's shirts, suits and khaki pants made her wish to put her own clothes back into the drawers. Show some willpower, Karen urged herself. She began removing her shirts, dresses, skirts and pants from the hangers and folding them neatly into the suitcase. All that was left for the second bag were her eight pairs of shoes: two hiking boots, three pairs of pumps, two pairs of black heels and a pair of sandals.

I didn't even need a second suitcase, Karen was surprised to note her own Spartan style. Her modest jewelry collection—consisting of five gold necklaces, including one heart pendant from her fiancé and a gold cross from her mother—would go into the second suitcase, along with her books. After packing all of her personal belongings, however, the suitcase was still half empty. Karen visually inspected the room, to see what else she needed to take along. All of her makeup, which she rarely wore, fit neatly into an oversized purse. Perhaps some of the cookware could go in here as well, she speculated, walking into the kitchen to confirm that hypothesis. She chose one pizza pan, a skillet and half a dozen plates, along with a few cereal bowls, cups and spoons, knives and forks. Some of them I should ship ahead of time, she thought, carefully placing the fragile dishes into a box filled with shredded newspapers. The flurry of practical activity momentarily distracted her from the reasons behind it. But once she finished the busy work and was faced with the material reality of leaving, Karen broke down in tears.

At this opportune moment, Michael walked in, whistling cheerfully. “What the hell's going on here? Are you going on vacation with your new lover?” he hazarded a tactless joke.

“I've decided to move to Phoenix,” Karen announced, assuming the somber expression of someone delivering a eulogy.

“Why?” Is she leaving me? Michael wondered. Part of him felt some relief at this unexpected
deus ex machina
intervention. But another part of him didn't want events to take this turn, at least not yet, since Ana wasn't ready to divorce. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Karen tried to control her emotions as she began enumerating the reasons for her decision, which she had rehearsed at least a dozen times in her head. “I made a list of all the pros and cons. The pros won. First of all, I'd like to go there earlier than you so I can furnish our apartment. Second ...”

“Hold on a sec.
Our
apartment?” Michael interrupted her.

“We talked about moving to Phoenix right after you finish your Masters degree this spring, remember?”

Michael recalled talking about the move several months earlier, but fresher on his mind still was his change of heart since having met Ana. “I told you I'd like to find a good teaching position in Detroit,” he, in turn, jogged her memory.

Karen felt compelled to tread more lightly. “I know you were considering looking for a job in the area. But just in case that doesn't pan out, I wanted to set up our nest in your ideal location.”

“What if I find the job of my dreams here?” Michael rebutted, substituting the word “job” with the word ”woman” in his own mind.

“Then I'll come back. But please promise me that you'll come and see for yourself the new apartment during spring break. It might win your heart, who knows?”

“I seriously doubt it,” Michael replied, thinking it was highly unlikely that his relationship with Ana would sour so soon.

“How do you know? A week in paradise might change your mind. Maybe you'll prefer living in an ideal, sunny, beautiful location over a decent job in this dingy ice hole,” she tried to tempt him.

“Yeah?” he asked, unconvinced.

Sensing his coolness, Karen approached him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “This decision was very hard for me.”

”I know, Baby.”

”But I've got to do it. I want us to start our relationship from scratch, without all the emotional baggage,” she tried to convince herself as much as him.

“You think a new location will erase the fact I cheated on you?” he asked her a little too bluntly.

“I've already forgiven you for that,” Karen was quick to assure him, not wishing to reopen that can of worms. “In fact, it cuts both ways. I hope that moving to Phoenix will change your ideas about me. That you'll come there with a fresh head.”

“A fresh head of what? Lettuce?”

Karen moved away, hurt that he was making light of such important matters. ”I'm being perfectly serious! You have all of these wrong impressions about me.”

“Such as ...?” Michael's tone now betrayed irritation.

“Such as that I'm not funny. Many people find me hysterical.”

“Hey, I can't argue with that,” he concurred, thinking of Karen's frequent crying spells lately. “What else?”

“You think that I'm not as cultured as you. When I move to Phoenix, I'll only work part-time. I plan to devote a lot of time to reading and movies, to broaden my horizons.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” he approved, feeling bored.

“And, of course, I'll also keep up my diet and exercise program.”

“Good. Keep me posted, okay?”

“Sure. I was thinking we could talk every night between nine and ten your time,” Karen took the cue. “Don't forget, there's a three hour time difference between Arizona and Michigan.”

Michael hesitated, wishing to leave his options open. “If I'm not home, just leave me a message on the answering machine and I'll call you back as soon as I can.”

“Why wouldn't you be home?” Karen asked, her suspicions easily aroused.

“Who knows? I might want to go out for a beer with some of my buddies.”

“You don't have any buddies.”

“By that I mean some of my colleagues.”

“The only colleagues who interest you are the kind that wear skirts.”

Michael couldn't help but smile at this self-evident truth. “You got me there! But I also like shooting the bull with some of my male acquaintances.”

Karen's underlying anxiety about Michael's infidelity had been scratched like a wound by their brief exchange. “Don't do anything stupid.”

“Don't worry, I won't jump off a cliff,” he replied with a smirk.

“I mean it, Michael!” Her tone became beseeching. “At least give us a chance at a fresh start. That's all I ask.”

“Okay.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

The following day, at the airport, Karen repeated the same plea, word by word. Her eyes were red from crying, her lipstick smeared by his goodbye kiss. What a lost soul, Michael thought, as if he had already abandoned her. This could very well be our final farewell and she's not even aware of it, he told himself, feeling in charge of their relationship.

“I'll miss you every single day, each minute of each day,” she confirmed his intuition.

“Right back at you,” he replied, blowing her a kiss.

“I'd never go through with this stupid move if I didn't feel so strongly that's our best chance at a new beginning,” Karen excused herself, feeling guilty for initiating their separation.

“May it also mean a better life for you,” Michael reverted like a spring back to his original position, of gradually separating the strands of their intertwined lives.

Since Rob and the kids went to an indoor water park that Sunday and Ana was allergic to chlorine, she stayed behind at home. As soon as she heard the garage door close, she ran to the phone. “It's me,” she said.

“Hey Baby!” Michael replied warmly.

“I'm free for the next few hours. Do you have time to meet?”

“Don't I always have time for you?”

It's true, Ana thought. Every time I call him, no matter when, no matter how often, he always sounds so happy to hear from me. Her lover's boundless enthusiasm enchanted her. “What would you like to do?” she asked him.

“I was planning to go furniture shopping this afternoon. Let's just say my old sofa set has seen better days. It would be kind of fun to go there with you.”

“Okay ...” she answered with slight hesitation. A furniture store didn't exactly sound like the optimal venue for a hot date, but then again, Michael's presence made everything sizzle.

“How about we meet at
Artclub
in half an hour?” he suggested a local furniture chain.

“Sounds good. I can't wait to see you!” she said, punctuated her statement with kisses planted on the receiver.

“Me too, hmm, bye.”

Ana went into the walk-in closet to select her clothes, knowing that Michael was very particular about what she wore. She took off her jeans and put on a plaid miniskirt. She then removed her pantyhose and replaced them with the pair of black thigh-highs that Michael had given her the week before. On top, she chose a micro fiber tee shirt with no bra, so as not to leave much fabric between her skin and his roving hands. At first she was hesitant about it, preferring regular pantyhose to the thigh-highs that had a tendency to roll down her legs when the elastic wore out or, if it stayed tight, left red marks upon her tender skin. But, as usual, Michael had countered her objections with the sweet cooing that made her melt inside. “Why refuse me such a little thing? Don't I always do everything you wish?” Then, the melodious refrain she couldn't resist, “Come on, Baby, do it for me please.” She did, and not just to please him. Michael's energy and spontaneity made her feel youthful, happy and alive, as if she had spent the past ten years hibernating in a rule-bound, lackluster life that lacked the energy and excitement of their passion.

Michael was already waiting for her in the parking lot. His back was pressed up against the store window, like a spider weaving its net upon a glass pane. He beckoned to her with his index finger to approach closer and closer as she prudently drove towards him.

After parking the car, Ana ran into his arms. As was his habit, he lifted her off the ground in an eager embrace, his lips plastered upon hers, giving her oxygen from his athletic lungs. He gives literal meaning to the expression “he's a breath of fresh air,” Ana thought, feeling rejuvenated by her lover's presence.

“It's so good to see you again!” he exclaimed.

“I've missed you so much,” she breathed into his ear, under his spell.

“Let's take a little break first,” he suggested, opening the passenger door of the car for her.

In the beginning, Ana recalled, Michael's predilection for making love in public places had been a source of tension between them.

“Why does it have to be in public?” she had asked him. She couldn't understand why Michael preferred making love right outside the hotel, even after he had already paid for the room.

“Because it's more fun that way,” he had replied with a wink.

“But what if other people see us? We could get arrested for public indecency,” she had objected.

“I like living on the edge, Babe. And I don't give a damn about what other people think.”

“You act like a horny teenager sometimes,” Ana found a ready excuse for Michael's apparent immaturity. Sometimes, however, her lover's silly antics seemed more puzzling than entertaining. She recalled how Michael had boasted about the pranks he played on his parents when they visited him and Karen from Utah. He set the alarm for 2:00 a.m. and 4 a.m. nearly every night.

“Why did you do that?” she had asked him.

“I don't know. To keep them on their toes, I guess,” he had responded with an impish smile.

What was even more difficult to comprehend was the pleasure Michael took in duping those who loved him. “For several years I've told my parents that I'm working at an escort service,” he confessed to Ana one afternoon, out of the blue.

“Why?”

“Just for fun.”

“But why would you lie about a thing like that?”

Noticing the concern on Ana's face, Michael adopted a more serious demeanor. “Look. My mother worships the ground I walk on. Everything I do is perfect in her eyes. But my dad's just the opposite. Nothing I do is ever good enough for him. He wanted me to finish my Ph. D. and become a professor.” He shrugged. “But that's not what I want to do with my life. I don't want to spend the rest of my youth rotting in some dusty library. Besides, being a French teacher's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I completely agree,” Ana took his side. “And that's precisely why you have no reason to lie to your parents about your chosen profession. In fact, you should be proud of it.”

Michael's smile was full of mischief. “I am, but my dad's obviously not. So if I tell my folks I'm the worst thing they can imagine, they'll never dare judge me again.” He laughed out loud. “Hell, since I told them I'm working at an escort service, they've been too embarrassed to even ask me about work.”