“You’ve thought about this a lot,” I chuckled.
“Oh my gosh, Paul, you have no idea. I think about it all the time. Wren was right—we used to talk about guys, and I wanted to suck them all. I did the same thing with Brooke. Pretty much every cute guy on the swim team, at Uni, at the beach, you name it.” She looked into my eyes. “You really don’t mind? That I don’t care whose penis it is? Well, I do care, but you know what I mean. As long as the guy’s semi-decent. And not, like, old-old.”
“You can suck whoever you like,” I said.
“I know I sound like such a pervert—that I wanna suck off random guys—but you’re the one who says I shouldn’t have double standards. You do the same thing. I see the way you look at other women. You don’t say anything, but I know what you’re thinking. Like with that Colleen woman. You totally wanted to have sex with her.”
“I almost did,” I admitted. “I don’t really have a good excuse for why I didn’t.”
“Because you were holding out for someone better. Me!”
I groaned playfully.
“I’m serious,” she said. “God brought us together for a reason. And you might not realize it, but He was guiding your life too.”
“That’s a better explanation than anything I’ve come up with,” I said earnestly.
“He works in mysterious ways. And He knew I needed a man like you, so He made you say no to Colleen and all those other women Wren threw at you. Ugh! Sometimes I don’t know whether to love her or hate her. What if you’d met someone almost like me, but not quite? Then where would we be? You’d be in bed with her, while I’d be miserable and married to someone like Simon. Oh, and for the record, I did not have sex with him only because he asked me to marry him.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
“I… I’m not sure. But it wasn’t because he proposed. As a matter of fact, I’m in bed now with someone who hasn’t even done that much.”
“Yeah, but you know it’s going to happen.” I flirted with the idea of telling her what Rich had said, but I wanted it to come as a surprise when I asked her.
“That’s okay,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me. What you and Rich talked about, I mean. I know that’s what you were thinking. I know how your mind works. Remember?”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Uh-huh! And right now you’re wondering how long I’m going to chatter before you can turn the conversation to sex again. Well, you don’t have to wait. I’ll do it for you! I’ve been thinking about what I want to do. With new swinger guys, I mean. My libido might’ve gone into overdrive again. Sorry. Only, I’m not. It started last week. You know how I get when I’m on my period. You were busy with exams, so we couldn’t really do anything. But I was still thinking about it. Sex, I mean. Duh! What’m I always thinking about? Anyway, I want to…”
* * *
We hung out with Wren the rest of the week. She had plans with her mother one night and her father the next, so Christy and I spent a couple of quiet nights at my parents’ house. Wren joined us on Friday. She wanted to cook a proper birthday dinner for Christy, minus the smoke and tears. And since the duck took an hour in the oven, we opened a bottle of wine and relaxed in the hot tub.
My father returned from his trip while we were soaking. He came in through the garage and emerged from the patio door.
“There you are,” he said. “Hi, Christy. Hello, Wren. I wondered who was cooking. I knew it wasn’t Paul.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad.”
“Don’t mention it. It smells wonderful, by the way,” he told Wren.
“Thanks. I made enough for four,” she said. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“I wish I could, but I’m meeting a friend for drinks.”
“A friend from the crew?” I asked, which was impromptu code for a flight attendant.
“Yeah.” His expression didn’t betray a thing, but for some reason he decided to elaborate. “He’s new. Only been with the company a few months. He’s thinking about transferring here, so I promised to show him around.” Most of that was probably true, except for the pronouns.
“Ah, okay.”
“We’re supposed to have dinner too. And… we might hit the town after that.”
Or go back to her hotel room, I thought wryly.
“I don’t know when I’ll be home,” he finished. “So, don’t wait up for me.” He glanced at his watch. “Okay, I’m going to shower and head back out. Y’all have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Roger that,” I said.
We were sitting on the side of the tub when he left, about twenty minutes later. He emerged from the door to the master bedroom, said goodbye, and left through the gate. He was dressed casually, slacks and a blazer, but nicer than if he were only meeting a fellow pilot. The scent of aftershave was more confirmation that he was meeting a woman instead of a man.
I chuckled to myself and wished him luck, although he didn’t really need it.
“I like your dad,” Wren said. “He doesn’t stare at my tits. I mean, yeah, he glanced at ’em, but he didn’t make a big deal. You know? Not the way most guys would.”
“It’s rude,” I said.
“You can say that again,” Christy agreed.
“No, I mean it’s rude among nudists. Staring.”
“It’s rude, period,” Wren said.
“I don’t even think most guys realize they’re doing it,” Christy said.
“Whatever,” Wren said. She lifted her watch from atop her folded towel. “I need to take dinner out of the oven. Then it needs to rest for ten minutes. Y’all wanna dry off and get ready?”
“We’ll set the table,” I offered.
“And open another bottle of wine?” Christy suggested.
“Oh, of course. You get flirty when you’re tipsy.”
Her eyes flashed. “And horny when I’m flirty.”
“What about me?” Wren asked.
“You’re horny all the time,” I said.
“Yeah, I am.”
“So am I,” Christy objected.
“We know, my love. But you have to wait. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna burn this duck a second time.”
* * *
Wren and Christy were sleeping peacefully the next morning when I slipped out of bed to go for a run. I was still stretching when my dad’s Corvette pulled into the driveway. I made a point of looking at my watch.
“The walk of shame,” I teased when he climbed out wearing the same clothes from the night before.
“Shame? More like pride,” he bantered. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Did Wren spend the night?”
I nodded.
“So your old man isn’t the only one who scored with a couple of hot twenty-year-olds.”
My eyebrows shot up. “A couple?”
“The first one asked her friend to join us. A couple of drinks and the old Hughes charm did the trick.”
“Ah.”
He heard the disapproval in my voice, although he misinterpreted it.
“You’ll understand when you’re my age,” he said. “Your mom and I have an arrangement that works. She has her friends and I have mine.” He nodded toward the house. “Sound familiar?”
“Yeah, but Christy and Wren aren’t a couple of random—” I stopped myself before I said “conquests” and finished diplomatically instead, “flight attendants.”
My father’s eyes tightened but he controlled his temper. “First, they weren’t ‘random.’ Second, you aren’t my wife. And third, it isn’t your place to judge me. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I said with a sarcastic edge. “Won’t happen again, sir.”
“Son, marriage is complicated. It isn’t wine and roses all the time. I love your mom. I love our marriage, too. But I don’t recall making vows to you.”