The Spice of Life (The Transformation #1) (2 page)

When they arrived home, she went into the kitchen for a glass of water, and came back to find Paul passed out on the bed, wearing just his underwear and socks. Her heart sank, but still, she tried to rouse him. She even ran her hand over the soft bulge in his briefs, hoping beyond hope for some response. Nothing. He was dead to the world. So the night ended with Kelli sitting alone in the dark living room, wearing her sexy dress and gazing out the window at the streetlights. She sipped her water and tried not to cry, but the familiar tears came in the end, nonetheless.

What a way to bring in the New Year. Worse, it had set the tone for the next twelve months. Kelli winced and tried to count up the number of times that she and her husband had been intimate since then. After the New Year’s party, there had been one time in mid-January, in part because Paul felt guilty, she suspected. Then the day after her birthday in April -- Paul had been too drunk on her actual birthday -- twice while on a three-week vacation in Mexico in July, and one random night in November, when she had to practically beg him.

What a joke
, she thought for the thousandth time.
I spend every day at work trying to help my clients have satisfying sex lives, and here I am, stuck with Paul. The sexless sex therapist. Great!

The phone rang, startling Kelli out of her reverie. The connection was faint and crackly, as Simone’s voice came from the other end. “Just wanted to call and say Merry Christmas to you and Dad,” she shouted. “I’m about to go out for lunch on the Champs Elysees.” She sounded bright and distant, and cut the conversation short after just a few minutes.

“Call again soon, hon!” Kelli told her, but Simone had already hung up the phone. She pictured her beautiful, blonde, 19 year old daughter and felt a strong pang of missing her. She then thought of Kaitlyn -- tall, strong Kaitlyn, and her current boyfriend, Greg. They would still be fast asleep in California; no doubt they would call later in the day.

When Paul stumbled downstairs a few minutes later, he was angry with her for not waking him. “My youngest daughter calls from France, on Christmas Day, and you don’t get me out of bed to wish her a happy holiday?” he grumbled.

Kelli shrugged. “You were still sleeping; I figured you needed it.” She held back from adding that if she had tried to wake him, her efforts would have been met with intense resistance.

“Well, what about Kaitlyn?” 

“Haven’t heard from her yet. I’m sure that she and Greg are still asleep. You know how it is. We’ll try them in a while.”

There was a pause. She gazed at her stocky, barrel-chested, brown-eyed husband, and mustered up her courage. “Paul, there is something I want to talk to you about.”

“Jesus, Kelli! I just woke up five minutes ago, and its Christmas morning! Can you give me a break? Does it have to be right now?”

She felt irritation rise from where it lurked beneath the surface these days, always threatening to come out and sabotage her interactions with Paul. She drew in a deep, calming breath and tried to keep her tone neutral. “I just wanted to ask you something. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Can we talk about it now, before we get distracted? It’s really important to me.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. It still amazed her sometimes, how childish he really was. “Fine. What is it?”

She sat down across from him at the breakfast bar and paused for a moment, gathering her courage and her thoughts. “So, you know how we’re going to the Howells’ party again, on New Years’ Eve?”

“Yeah,” he grunted.

“Well, I just wanted to say that, uh, well, do you remember what happened last year?”

Paul’s eyebrows shot up, and he ran his hand nervously through his thinning brown hair. “I remember that we had a moderately good time and came home. Was there something I missed?”

“Maybe. Do you remember how...how I told you last year at the party that I wanted to make love when we got home?”

Mild surprise changed to complete bewilderment on Paul’s face. “How you came on to me at the party, before we left? Yeah, I kinda remember. I was pretty wasted. But what does that have to do with anything?”

Kelli felt her composure slipping a little, and her words came out in a rush. “Paul, the thing is...it was really important to me to have us bring in the New Year with intimacy. Maybe it’s partly my fault; I should have expressed it more clearly at the time, instead of just trying to seduce you like that. But what I’m trying to say is, I really needed you that night, and it, uh, it didn’t happen. So I wanted to talk to you this year because I just really don’t want a repeat of last year. I want to have sex on New Year’s Eve when we get home. I need us to make love, as husband and wife. OK? Can we do that? Can we please just do that?”

Paul’s face softened and he grinned that crooked grin of his. “Aww, Kellikins! You’re so goddamn cute sometimes, you know that? Of course we can fuck on New Years’ Eve. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Fuck?
Kelli thought.
I can easily fuck with a vibrator. I wanted to make love. He just doesn’t get it.
Paul came around the bar and wrapped her up in a familiar bear hug. She could feel his heart beating through his bathrobe. It made her feel sick and furious all at the same time.

She pushed him back, away from her. “You just don’t get it, do you?” she said to him. She could feel herself glaring. “Do you realize it has been months since we fucked? MONTHS!? Do you even care?”

Paul stared at her blankly. Then he shrugged. “Things are fine,” he said. “Anyway, whatever. Yeah, we’ll fuck on New Year’s Eve. Happy now?”

Kelli felt her anger turning into despair. “Sure,” she mumbled. “Yeah. Really happy.” She stared down at her hands, and then turned to the cupboard to take out a glass. She wasn’t really thirsty, but it gave her a reason to turn her back to him.

Paul didn’t seem to notice. “I’m going to watch some TV, OK?” her husband called, walking through to the living room. So that was that. The conversation was over. Kelli felt weak. Relief coupled with an underlying sense of desperation. How like Paul to react like that. Just smooth things over and pretend nothing ever happened...yes, that was her husband. This wasn’t the first time she’d raised the intimacy issue with him, but the reaction was always the same. He acted as though she had said something really obvious, usually hugged her, and then nothing changed.

She couldn’t let it go though. Her gut told her that pushing the issue would be a mistake, but the frustration was too great to hold back. She moved to the living room and stood in the door. Paul had flipped on the TV, and
It’s a Wonderful Life
was playing. Somehow that fact made Kelli feel even more helpless and infuriated.

“Paul.”

“Uh huh?”

“I know this isn’t easy for either of us. But just now I didn’t feel like you really listened, or understood what I was saying. It’s just that...well, you know...I guess I’ll just say it. Our love life hasn’t been too good lately. I would like for that to change. I’d also like to feel like my feelings are validated.”

Silence from the armchair. Paul stared at the TV but she could tell he had tensed up.

“Paul? Can we talk about this? Please?”

Without a word, Paul stood up and walked right past her out of the room. Kelli called after him.

“Where are you going, Paul? Can we just talk?

Paul turned on the stairs and faced her. “You know I hate this fucking therapist shit, Kelli! I really hate it. There is no problem with us or our sex life. I’m fine. And you would be too, if you weren’t such a condescending bitch all the time!” He turned again and soon Kelli heard the bedroom door slam.

And there it was. The conversation was over, just like that. Typical.

Wow. So this is how bad it’s become
, she thought.
I knew it was bad, but I feel like I’ve been in denial.
She didn’t want to force Paul into a full blown fight; she knew that it wouldn’t work and would just cause him to shut down. She couldn’t help but think of Brenda, one of her past clients. For years, Brenda had existed in a sexless marriage; it had completely sapped her of her self-esteem and sense of worth. Kelli had advised her to leave, over and over again.
I’ve become Brenda.
The thought filled her with horror.
This New Year’s Eve is going to make or break us.
As soon as the idea entered her mind, she knew it was true. Feeling forlorn and defeated, Kelli made her way to the deserted living room, and sat down in front of the TV,  just in time to watch a black-and-white George Bailey crash his car into a snow-covered tree.

The New Year’s Eve party was an annual event. Carmelo Conte was a former colleague of Paul’s who had worked with him in the garbage collection business. His wife, Andrea, was a petite, dyed-blonde socialite who tottered around on huge platform heels and talked far too loudly.  Kelli had never really liked Andrea; she found her chatter to be vapid and meaningless. But out of courtesy she sipped her champagne and nodded while Andrea talked about her miniature poodle and her new pair of Manolo Blahniks. She hated these parties: everyone was so crude, and she knew that several guests were involved in the mob. She was very uncomfortable, and the heavy drinking didn’t help.

Eventually, Andrea wandered off and Kelli made her way to the bar for a refill. She felt male eyes on her as she passed. As usual, she looked fantastic. She’d chosen a strapless, green, silk sheath dress that was just long enough to be elegant, but short enough to show off her legs. It was a dress that Paul loved, or at least he used to love. Earlier in the evening, she carefully selected it from her closet, along with some strappy, green, Louboutin stiletto heels. She also put more care than usual into applying her makeup, choosing a shade of dark, smoky, burnt-gold eye-shadow that perfectly complimented her green eyes, and a luscious shade of red lipstick. She’d worn the gold and diamond drop earrings that she had inherited from her mother, and had even taken more time than usual to carefully curl the thick auburn hair that was her pride and joy. She topped it off with her favorite necklace: a sapphire pendant. As she walked, she knew that she was inspiring lust in the men around her, but the thought gave her no pleasure. She was all too aware that she would be going home with Paul, to a cold bed, yet again. She had worked so hard to look gorgeous for him, hoping that it would ignite something, but like everything else she’d tried, it didn’t seem to be working.

At the bar, she felt someone sit down beside her.  “Kelli, isn’t it?” She turned and saw Carlos Mitchell. They’d met a couple of years earlier at a work function. Carlos was older, in his early 60s, but he was a handsome man, with salt-and-pepper hair and strong shoulders.

She smiled invitingly. “Well hiiiii! It’s been a while! How are you, Carlos?” She saw his approving glance skim over her trim body and tight dress.

“I’m just fine...and I must say, you’re looking scrumptious, Kelli.”

It occurred to her in that moment that she could have Carlos, if she wanted him. She saw the hunger in his eyes and knew that it matched her own. She’d heard through the grapevine that he was newly divorced, and for the first time, Kelli didn’t suppress the thoughts that rose in her mind.
Yes, I could have Carlos. Maybe even right now.
She could flirt for a while, have a few more drinks and then they could just slip away into one of the empty, adjoining rooms or maybe even FUCK in the bathroom.
Take that, Paul.
She could run her hands over his tall, strong body and feel him come alive to her...feel his manhood harden in response and preparation. Then she’d let him roughly push her down to the ground, hike up her green dress, and she would draw his mouth down to taste how incredibly wet she was, how very eager...it was a delicious, forbidden thought.

Kelli suddenly came to her senses.
What was she doing?
She smiled back at Carlos and suddenly felt slightly disgusted with herself. No, that wasn’t hunger in his eyes. He was just being friendly and polite, making conversation. Feeling unsettled, she politely excused herself and sought refuge with the wives of some executives who had gathered in another corner of the room. She looked around for Paul, and saw him talking to some of the more slutty women in the room, the ones with too much make-up and ultra-low cut tops. He clearly was not missing her. He barely even looked up from the skanky brunette he was talking to.
That’s typical.
Kelli felt disgusted yet again. She remembered a previous party where Paul had gone off with some of the guys and hadn’t even bothered to tell her. She’d been worried sick and finally went home without him. She was just about to call the police in the early hours of the morning when he finally stumbled in the door, drunk. It turned out that he had stayed out drinking with his buddies the whole time. He never even apologized.

On the way home, Paul was predictably drunk. He could barely string a sentence together and passed out on the passenger side. Kelli couldn’t stop thinking about that moment with Carlos. What had she been thinking, letting her thoughts go down that road? She’d actually been considering cheating on Paul. She was pondering this when suddenly she became aware of the radio in the cab. The cab driver had gone to turn the radio off when Kelli and Paul got in, but she’d told him to leave it on. She needed some kind of white noise to fill up the emptiness. But what was playing right now?