Her Midlife Dilemma

"Don't patronize me, Vinnie. I was wrong about Adam. He's a great kid, funny and sensitive and smart in his own special way."

He stamps his left, brown tasseled shoe on the thick white carpet. "I can't believe you're talking about our nineteen-year old neighbor, son of an insurance salesman who couldn't do any better for college than Baynesville Community, who spied on us while hiding behind our rose bushes. What is he, your gigolo? Is that what you're telling me?"

"You WOULD think that, wouldn't you? You and Betty Miss Gossip Gammerman No, he's not my gigolo, just a nice young man who cares about me, who listens to me and yes, who makes love to me the way my husband used to but no longer can't or won't."

Vincent sinks into the sofa cushion and shakes his head. "Rene, I might not be a shrink. But I am a doctor and it's my professional opinion that you've lost your mind."

She nods. "We might be on the same page there, doctor. Maybe I have lost my mind. Or, maybe I've developed an extreme case of midlife crises. Whatever my pathology, crazy as it sounds, I've become very fond of Adam Naylor, erstwhile peeping Tom and lover extraordinaire."

Vincent pinches the bridge of his nose and starts to laugh. "You know, dear, this is more akin to Lucia di Lammermoor than Othello. Now I feel like I'm playing Arturo to Adam's Edgardo. I'm waiting for you to launch into your mad scene at any moment. On second thought, I think you already have. Because you've gone mad, totally fucking mad." His shoulders begin to shake he's laughing so hard.

A cautious smile creases her lips. "Does this mean we should cancel our reservations at Sabatino's?" Anxious as she is, she couldn't resist.

It sends Vincent pitching sideways, holding his stomach and howling. "We'll...hahaaaaa...we'll order carryout...hahaaaaa..."

"And ask Adam to join us...hahahaaaaa...maybe hold a picnic on our front porch...just the three of us...hahahaha..."

Vincent screams and then Rene doubles over in hysterics. For close to a minute, the two of them hoot and howl and roll, holding their stomachs, red-faced and teary-eyed. Then, when they get themselves together, wiping their eyes, Vincent says, "Well, I'm grateful we can still laugh together."

Nodding, she says, "That we can, Vinnie," and then leaves her chair to cuddle next to him on the sofa. "Yes, I've been naughty. But I still love you. I never stopped loving you." She hugs and kisses him, bound up in conflicting emotions and thoughts and ideas. Should she give Adam up and try to repair her crumbling marriage? Or, should she continue the affair and throw away a cushy life, not to mention over twenty years of memories and a good man who, for all his deficits, provides and loves her?

Pulling away, she stands up and says, "Don't move, I'll be ready in a sec."

"Ready for what?"

"Ready for Sabatino's. We need to talk, and I can't think of a better way to do that than over a glass of Merlot and veal marsala."

"No carryout?"

"No carryout. We need to get out. Now just sit tight." Before he can answer, she heads upstairs to primp for her husband.