Fuck… Jill shivered from the evilness of that foul, ugly monosyllable. She hated that word and what it stood for, but when she pleaded for Tom not to use it, he only laughed sardonically and called her frigid, a Goddamn icebox on legs with as much sex drive as an iron radiator. Their marital bed was a place to sleep and that was all, for as he became more frustrated with her unresponsiveness, the harsher he got; and the harsher he got, the less she was able to give of herself
Jill sighed a deep almost silent sigh of resignation, and got up to finish the unpacking. She knew, though she didn’t want to admit it, that her hopes that the week at Hidden Valley Resort might act as some kind of catalyst for the salvation of her marriage, were ridiculously impossible. No, this week would be like any other week, full of resentment, anger, incriminations, recriminations. Jill knew that there was only one answer, however painful that answer was. Unless this week miraculously brought an end to the pain and frustration of their marriage, she knew that divorce was the only way out. And she wondered, reluctantly, whether that would upset her husband in the least.
Tom Parker made his way into the crowded bar, and glanced around at the casually dressed crowd. The room was cool and dark, a welcome change from the almost unbearable heat of the day outside. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, he made out his boss, Harry Sommers, and a beautiful woman lounging at one end of the bar.
“Hey there, Tom old boy, come on in and have a drink!” Harry Sommers voice was loud and a little strident as he caught sight of Tom and called to him across the room.
The young ad executive made his way through the jumble of cocktail tables, and smiled widely as he came up to the couple, sticking out his hand to grasp tightly that of Harry Sommers, president of Jamieson Advertising.
“Tom, this is my wife, Gay. I don’t think you’ve met.”
“Sure we have, Harry, you fool. At Will Bennet’s party. Remember?” Gay Sommers’ voice was smooth and lilting, like a cool drink on a hot day. “How are you, Tom?”
“Just fine, Mrs. Sommers. How are you?”
“Oh my, ‘Mrs. Sommers.’” Gay teased. “We’re not at the office now, are we?”
Tom laughed, and leaned across to the beautiful brunette. “All right, I get the message. But you never know what putting people on a first name basis can do. You know, familiarity breeds contempt.”
Gay laughed gaily, and hooked her hand around Tom’s muscular arm. “Well, what do you say we risk it?” she giggled.
“Hey, watch it now!” Harry Sommers laughed, “That’s my wife you’re getting familiar with.”
“Don’t pay any attention to him, Tom. He’s just jealous,” Gay smiled, with something secret playing around behind her eyes. Her husband smiled back at her, and then turned to his young account executive again.
“Say, Tom, where’s Jill?”
“Oh, she’s unpacking, I think.”
“Hell, you mean you put her to work while you go out drinking? Now there’s a man after my own heart.”
“No, I… I told her to come on down,” Tom said, “But she wanted to get all unpacked first. She’ll be down in a little while.”
“Great, great! We’ve got to go unpack ourselves. But we may be back down later on.” Harry said.
“Can’t I buy you a drink or something?” Tom offered.
“No, we’ve really got to get settled in…” Harry’s voluptuous wife smiled, “But thanks anyway.”
“All right, I’ll see you later, then.” Tom smiled at them as they got up from their stools. “But meanwhile, I’m going to get me something to wash five hours of driving down my throat.”
“Nice to meet you again, Tom,” Gay Sommers said in a sudden throaty voice as her husband walked to the other end of the bar to pay their check. “I hope I get to see a lot of you this week.”
Tom paused. Was it his imagination, or was there a hidden meaning somewhere in the tone of voice Gay was using? God, it sounded almost as if she were suggesting that he and she… No! It must be his imagination.
“I hope so too, Gay,” he smiled, and then watched after her as she moved across the crowded room and joined her husband by the door. Her hips moved provocatively against the thin material of her light dress, and her smoothly rounded buttocks danced in rhythm to the graceful tempo of her walk.
Hell, she must be a holy terror in bed, Tom thought to himself, and then raised his hand to return Gay’s wave as she and Harry left the bar. Turning to sit on the stool she’d just left, Tom let his mind wander through fleeting visions of Gay Sommers and then laughed at himself All he needed to do was get involved with the boss’s wife.
Tom signaled the bartender, thought a moment, and then ordered a gin and tonic. That ought to take the heat of the day and cool it off some. As he waited for his drink, he thought again of Gay Sommers, only this time his mind moved quickly to uncomfortable images of his own wife, Jill. When they’d married, he had loved her deeply; but that seemed like a thousand years ago now, and a lot of things had happened in the three years of living together. They were incompatible, that’s all; unable to adjust to one another’s needs socially or sexually, and no amount of trying to start over was going to change that fact.
Tom knew that Jill considered this week as yet another chance to try to bring about a reconciliation, and it irritated him. It was too late for that kind of innocent romanticism. It wasn’t going to work. He knew it in his bones. There was just too much wrong with their life as man and wife to have Hidden Valley Resort cure it in a week. Not that he disliked Jill, he assured himself He still had feelings for her, and he hoped the best for her. She was good-looking enough to snare another man without too much trouble – one who had a sex-drive which needed fulfilling one night a month. But Tom knew that he just couldn’t take it much longer. It was bad enough having a wife who was cold as an iceberg. It was intolerable when she blamed him for it, though.
Tom was on his second drink when he looked up into the mirror that ran the length of the wall behind the bar, and saw his wife standing in the front entrance. He didn’t turn around, but waited until she had spotted him across the room, and came over to sit beside him on the high bar stool. He didn’t speak first.
“Darling, why don’t we sit at a table, these things are terribly uncomfortable.” Jill said hesitantly.
“Hell, they’re all right.”
“Please darling”
Tom cursed under his breath, as though her request were totally irrational and demanded a great effort to satisfy, and stood up from his stool, gathering his drink in his hand. Quickly, Jill climbed off her stool, and followed him across the room to an empty table. As she walked, she noticed her husband’s large, powerfully built neck and arms, the legacy of a brief but successful career as a collegiate gymnast. His tall, lean frame moved easily through the tangle of small tables, and Jill noticed his muscular body drawing the covetous glances of many of the women in the bar. It was always like this, though, wherever she went with her husband. Tom’s handsome, almost innocently open face had caused him to be the target of many a willing girl’s schemes before his marriage; and now, Jill had to admit, things hadn’t really changed that much. As far as she knew, Tom had always been faithful to her, but her innate doubts and fears were continually convincing her that her husband’s recurring dissatisfaction with her might easily lead him into the arms of another woman. They sat down at a little table in the corner of the room, and Tom signaled the waitress. Jill really didn’t want anything to drink, but she ordered anyway, knowing that it angered Tom if she didn’t drink along with him.