Monday, November 22, 2010

Joyce Reiner

She spent almost an hour selecting the right outfit. Really, she hadn't even planned on this, but after her shower, she'd paused in front of her closet. Although she'd intended to just slip into a nightgown, her eyes were drawn to the lingerie folded beneath. It had been weeks since she and Zach had done anything, and although she hadn't really been thinking about it, Joyce was definitely in the mood. Her husband still wasn't back from work, but perhaps she could surprise him. Ultimately, she settled on an outfit they'd only used twice before. He'd liked it a both times.

Once she was dressed she slid beneath her covers and waited. He should be home any minute now. It was already past 11:00, but this was typical these days. Several of his coworkers had been laid-off recently, and now he had to juggle their jobs, too. By the time he got home, he rarely even bothered to take a shower. He just crashed in bed and fell right asleep. That's why he and Joyce hadn't been doing much recently.

She heard the faint clatter of him unlocking the front door and then his footsteps as he stomped through the foyer. Zach had such a distinctive way of walking. She'd be able to pick out his footsteps even if a dozen other people came into their house each night. The covers were still pulled up to her chin. The lights were off. Her eyes were gently closed. When he opened their bedroom door, he was courteous enough not to turn the lights on. She just laid and listened as he took off his shoes, as he dropped his clothes onto the floor. Once she would have complained about this, but recently, he was being sloppy out of consideration. If he were to hang his clothes back up, he'd have to turn on the light.

When he slid into the bed next to her, she could smell him. She'd always liked his smell, though over the past several weeks it had developed an acrid quality. This wasn't the biggest deal, though. Overall, she still liked it when he was close. His heavy breathing. The way the bed settled differently with him next to her. Before he could get too comfortable, she reached over and grabbed his hand, guiding it to her waist so that he could feel the frills of her lingerie. His hand was large and heavy, and it rested on her limply before he pulled away. The rhythm of his breathing slowed down by another notch, and she could tell that he was falling deeper into sleep.

Pulling back her covers, she let the moonlight illuminate her from the waist up. His back was to her, though, and his head was pushed firmly into his pillow. She stared at him intently, hoping that he'd somehow pick up on her desire, but his breathing only grew deeper and slower. When that didn't work, she coughed gently, and then finally, she put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him down. His eyes opened blearily and he stared at her a moment before pulling the covers more snugly about himself and closing his eyes again.

She was starting to lose the mood, too, but this wasn't fair. It had been weeks since he'd done anything more than kiss her, and even that lacked real passion. Was something else going on? Was this really just work? “Are you having an affair?” Even she was surprised by how she blurted that out.

Zach groaned, rolling over again. “No.” He wasn't even entirely conscious, and hearing him, Joyce didn't doubt his sincerity. Of course he wasn't having an affair. He was being overworked. His bosses were dicks. But still, they'd had hard times before, and their love life hadn't suffered. Why were things so different now?

Joyce stared down at herself, her pale breasts radiant in the moonlight. Just like Zach, her body was heavy these days. She was thirty-four and she'd become a real woman. Nobody called her a girl anymore, a phrase which had lingered until her late 20s and which she had resented so much at the time. Maybe that was the difference. Maybe he didn't find her attractive anymore. Maybe they were both growing old.

She slid out of her lingerie and tossed it to the floor. Once she was certain Zach was asleep, she pulled on a more modest nightgown and then crawled back under the covers. She slept on her right shoulder, her back to her husband, his back to her, and eventually clouds rolled across the moon and everything was obscured by darkness.

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