“You were right about the potato salad,” Janine says as we climb out of my car in the driveway. It’s Saturday and we just spent the morning hitting some garage sales while Jeremiah ran with the kids to Home Depot. “It made him sick.”
“I knew it!” I screech, slamming the car door and pointing at her. I’ll come back out later and bring in all the random shit we bought, but for now we just bring in a resealable baggie of doll accessories I bought for the girls. Fifty cents! “I freaking knew it! It’s that damn mayo. It’ll get ya every time. Man, I love when I’m right!”
She places a hand on her hip indignantly. “Okay, why are you more excited about being right about potato salad than you are about GreatDane51 being Dan? Who is a keeper, by the way.”
“Because. You never believe me about that stuff.” I hand the baggie of doll parts to her while I search the bottom of my purse for my house keys—the curse of having a detached garage. “You were totally going to eat that salad.”
Found them! I jingle them in the air before inserting them into the deadbolt.
“Well, yeah! It looked good!”
“Looked good, yes,” I say, opening the door to let us in. “Good for you… no.”
“Will it make you feel better for me to say, ‘You’re right, Becky’?”
“That always makes me feel better,” I admit with a smirk as the kids come screaming towards me.
With a big ball of fluffy calico in their arms.
“What the hell is that?” Janine asks with a grimace. She eyeballs the breathing ball of fluff but makes no move to touch it.
“It’s a kitty, Mommy! A real kitty!” one of the kids screams—I’m not sure which one—jumping up and down and pointing in the general direction of the offending animal, who, by the way, looks perfectly content in Charlotte’s arms.
It yawns.
“Uh… Jeremiah! Oh, sweetie pie, could you come here for a minute?” I yell, not taking my eyes off the cat. It stares back. “What the hell is this?”
“Why is there a cat in your house?” Janine mutters quietly beside me. She’s not fooling me. I know the bitch thinks it’s funny that there is a cat in my house.
A cat.
It is so not funny.
“Is it safe to come out?” Jeremiah sticks his head around the corner of the kitchen cautiously, a nervous grin on his face. “Hi, honey. How was your girls’ day?”
Janine chuckles next to me. “You’re in so much trouble, buddy,” she sings in his direction.
To his credit, he avoids direct eye contact and busies himself by taking the doll toys out of my hands.
“My morning was great. Was,” I answer, narrowing my eyes at him. “This new development is quite a surprise.” I point to the cat, trying to remain calm. “I know what that is, but what’s it doing in my house?”
Cats, in general, don’t bother me. No one loves a funny cat meme more than me. However, with five kids underfoot and a husband who acts like my sixth, the last thing I need is one more living creature to keep alive.
“That’s Murphy,” Jeremiah says sheepishly.
Janine starts laughing as she plops down on the couch, “Ohmygod, they named it already. You are so screwed!”
I quirk my eyebrow and tap my foot on the foyer floor. “And where did Murphy come from?”
Before my husband can stop himself, he leans over and rubs the cat behind her ears. “She was rummaging through the garbage behind Starbucks,” he says quietly. I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully, not sure if I’m going to start yelling or punch him in the junk.
“And why couldn’t you leave Murphy at Starbucks?” Seriously. This cat is so fat, there is no way she’s missed a meal recently. “She seems to be fine fending for herself.”
“Mom!” Charlotte says, her eyes wide in admonishment. “We couldn’t leave Murphy there! She’s gonna have baby kitties!”
My jaw drops and Janine laughs even harder. I throw my hands in the air, defeated. “Murphy is pregnant? Oh, this is classic!” Janine flops down on the couch, keeled over. Leave it to her to find enjoyment in my misery.
I put my keys and purse down and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Congratulations, Janine. It looks like you’re gonna be the new adoptive mommy of a few new furbabies in a couple months.”
“No. What?” Her laughter immediately stops. “No way!”
“Yes way. If I’m going to live through the misery of being a pet owner, so are you. It’s only fair.”
“So we get to keep her?” Maddie asks quietly. My sweet girl has always been the bleeding heart of the bunch.
I sigh. “I’m not sure I have much of a choice.”
“Yeah!” the kids all squeal and run off. No doubt our newest family member is about to be dressed up in all kinds of American Girl doll clothes. I hope the cat knew what she was doing when she adopted us.
“Thank you, babe,” Jeremiah says, giving me a quick peck on the lips. “I know this isn’t ideal, but I promise I’ll take the lead on this. I already set up the litter box in the laundry room.”
“Uh huh.” I plop myself down on the couch. “You owe me for this one, ya know?”
“I know,” he says with a grin. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve already started dinner.”
Smart man.
“Ooh, that does make me feel better.”
“Good. You girls want a glass of wine while you hang out?”
“Thanks, babe,” I say, adjusting my feet underneath me and getting comfortable. “We’d love it.”
“He needs to bring stray animals home more often if this is how he’s going to treat us,” Janine says.
I snort. “Uh, no. The kids have been asking for a pet for ages, so it was only a matter of time anyway.”
“I love watching you and Jeremiah together,” she says, picking at her thumbnail. “Even after all these years, you guys are just this team. Gives me hope that I can have that someday.”
I smile at her, knowing she doesn’t let her guard down often. Even after all these years, she’s still more reserved about what she calls her “touchy-feely” feelings. “Well, now that you’ve met Dan, maybe things will start going in the right direction for you that way.”
She looks up at me with that look. The one that says she’s a woman falling in love. And it makes me really happy to see.
“I hope so, Becky. I really do.”
We hang out for a while and Janine joins us for dinner. The cat jumps on the table and tries to eat off her plate, much to the kids’ delight. My best friend complains that Murphy is only using her for white mocha Starbucks. She’s probably right.
Everyone is so happy; all is right with the world.
Several hours later, Janine has gone, the kids are settled in bed, and things are quieting down. Exhausted, I make my way out of the bathroom, ready to call it a night.
Jeremiah is sitting at the foot of our bed, smoothing out a crumpled sheet of paper, the new TV playing an old episode of CSI in the background. He twists towards me and holds it out. “Becks, what is this?”
“What is what?” I start flipping lights off as I make my way to the bed.
My husband hoists the paper up, reading out loud in a clear voice. “Role-play. Masturbating. Voyeurism. Swinging?”
I freeze, stopping in my tracks and pause by the bedside lamp when I hear what he’s reading. Oh shit—my list. He has the “Suck-it List” I made with Janine!
“Where did you get that?” I dive onto the bed in an uncoordinated panic and snatch it out of his hands. Folding it in half, I feel like a teenager who just got caught cheating.
“Jacob had it,” Jeremiah starts slowly. “He asked me to read it to him after he found it in your purse.”
“Ohmygod.” I cover my face with my hands; I can’t bear to look at him. “That kid is going to be so messed up when he’s an adult. I’m a horrible mother.”
“Becks,” he says, pulling my hands away from my face and trying to meet my eyes. “What the hell was it even for? And why the hell does it suggest we try swinging? Swinging from what?”
I roll my eyes and immediately become indignant—please, as if I would suggest such a thing. “That one was Janine’s idea. I told her not to put it down, but obviously she didn’t listen to me.”
“Hmm. Not a total surprise there,” he admits. “But the surprise to me is why you have this list in the first place.”
I lie back on the pillows, trying to figure out how to explain my feelings and why the list was written. How can I put in to words the feelings that led me to seek more out of our relationship without hurting him?
He doesn’t deserve this.
I sit on the edge of the bed, facing the wall, and hang my head.
“Talk to me, Becks,” he urges gently, lying down next to me and placing a hand on my back. His palm runs up and down my back, soothing me.
Gathering my thoughts, I sigh. “When Janine and I were in college, we had all these plans for how our lives were gonna go, what we wanted and didn’t want, ya know?”
“Of course. We all did.”
“Well, lately it’s been pretty obvious that my plans didn’t turn out like I expected and it just made me feel…” My voice catches on a twinge of guilt. “Don’t get me wrong; I love my life. I love our kids. I love that I get to stay home with them. I love you.”
“But…” he says, encouraging me to continue, still rubbing my back. His hands glide up and down my spine, and I continue.
“No buts. I just didn’t plan for any of it. It changed for the better, and I’m so glad it did. I just… there’s just one thing I thought changed for the worse.”
“What’s that?” he asks. I cast a glance at him over my shoulder, into his concerned face. See, the thing about Jeremiah is, where many men would be rolling their eyes, irritated at their wives… getting upset by irrational rambling and emotional psychobabble, Jeremiah shows no judgment at all. He’s genuinely interested in my feelings. He loves communicating.
This is one of the many reasons I fell in love with him in the first place.
“Our sex life,” I finally blurt out, turning to face him. His hands fall to the mattress and he inches back, eyebrows creased in confusion.
“That’s what that list was all about? Am I… not satisfying you or something?”
“No!” I hasten, putting my palms up in an attempt to stop his trail of thought. “No, it’s nothing like that, but I always had it in my mind that I would make a kick-ass sex life a priority, ya know?” I begin muttering. “It would never get boring. It would never go stagnant. I would stay in good shape. I would be fun. All the things I believed were critical to keeping your husband from straying. Especially after five kids! And I’ve done a terrible job keeping things… I guess… fresh in the bedroom. Exciting. Interesting.”
“Wait,” he interrupts. “Back up. Are you worried I’m going to cheat on you?”
My shoulder slouches. “Well, no…”
“Because I would never, ever do that to you. There is no woman in the world who even compares to you.”
I smile and cup his cheek with my hand. “Thank you for that. But after four pregnancies and nursing five children, I just… I just don’t feel as confident as I did. Our sex life isn’t exactly, well, sexy anymore.”
“Okay, I’m gonna have to stop you right there,” he says, sitting up and pulling me with him. “First of all, you have never, ever been sexier to me than you have been since the kids were born.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him in disbelief.
Yeah, right.
“I’m serious, Becks,” he continues, ignoring my obvious disbelief. “Do you ever wonder why I avoid going into the bathroom whenever you’re getting out of the shower in the morning?”
“I thought you were getting ready for work, or one of the kids needed something.”
“Well, yes,” he says with a nod. “But also, if I get a glimpse of you all wet and soapy, I get all distracted. And if I get distracted, I’ll never get to work on time.”
“You’re sweet.” I scoff. “But I know my body isn’t what it used to be.”
“And neither is mine, babe. But where mine is from lack of effort and being old, yours is from giving me the best five gifts I’ve ever gotten. Becky,” he says, lifting my chin so I can look him in the eyes. “When I see your stretch marks, it makes my heart swell with so much emotion. I know those came from your body carrying the little lives we created together.”
I can feel the telltale signs of tears pricking my eyes.
“Also, you’ve never noticed, but every time you take off your bra, I get a chubby.”
I bark a laugh as my eyes fill up with tears. “No you don’t.”
“I do!” he says with a grin. “I just look away before you realize I’m looking.”
“Afraid I’ll think you’re a creeper?”
“Exactly.” He chuckles. “And don’t get me started on the filthy things that go through my head when I catch a glimpse of your ass.”
I giggle and wipe my eyes before the tears start to fall. “But our sex life…”
“What about it?”
“It’s just so… blah.”
“So that’s what all this crazy stuff has been about? The strip tease and the video camera?”
“And the role-play at the hotel.”
“Babe, from where I’m sitting, our sex life doesn’t need any help at all. Sure, I needed a little medication—”
“Which is normal for a man your age,” I interject, trying to reassure him.
“It’s also normal for parents of young kids to not have wild, crazy monkey sex.”
“Now see, that is so sad to me. It shouldn’t be normal.”
“Maybe. But babe, this won’t be forever,” he says and kisses the palm of my hand. “Right now, we’re tired. Anything lasting longer than two minutes seems so exhausting.”
I laugh out loud because he is so right. It is exhausting. Sex isn’t just sex when you have five small kids. It’s work.
“This is just a stage in our lives. And someday, when the kids are out of the house, or we get to actually go on vacation by ourselves, we can have loud, crazy, hang-from-the-ceiling-by-our-toes sex again.”
“Hang by our toes?”
“Okay, maybe not our toes,” he says with a smile. “Swing from the ceiling or whatever Janine put on the list.”
I lean over and kiss him on the lips, feeling a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. My husband is fully satisfied physically and emotionally, and in reality, that’s all that really matters to me.
“I love you,” I say quietly against his lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, kissing me back. “Don’t get me wrong; anytime you want to make a homemade porn, I’m your man.”
“Noted.”
“You know, all this sex talk is making me horny.”
I smile. “Well then, let’s have some boring, bland, married couple sex.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.
Two minutes later…
“That was great, Becks,” Jeremiah says, rolling onto his back while he catches his breath. “Hey, check it out! We managed to knock it out during the commercial break! I didn’t miss finding out whodunit.”
I snort, pulling my jammies back over my head and snuggling in next to him. “I guess there are some perks to finishing in two minutes or less.”
“Hell yeah,” he agrees. “See? Every kind of sex has its benefits.”
I chuckle and readjust my position next to him, looking down at the foot of the bed. “Uh, Jeremiah?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“I’m pretty sure Murphy just watched us have sex.”
Damn cat. Just what I needed… a perverted pussy.