Katheryn's Baby

Since when does my WIFE come from FUCKING?!

"Mel," I say slowly, trying not to broadcast my pain, "even if today wasn't the first day that you had this exp-"

"No!" she bleats, suddenly back to weeping loudly. "No, you don't understand!"

I swallow hard. "Okay. I'm listening. Why don't you come out, and you can help me understand while we-"

But she hammers on the door from the inside. "You don't understand!" she yells again. "It wasn't the first time! It wasn't the first time today!" She wails like a heartbroken child. "It's me! It's something wrong with ME! I'm a terrible person!"

I'm dizzy. "Wh...what?"

I have failed, and I am on the floor. She cries herself out before finally responding. "Today wasn't the first time I had an...an orgasm with Adam," she says in shredded, defeated tones. "That happens all the time. Today was the first time I fucked him just to FEEL it. Today was just the first time I admitted to myself that I WANTED it." There's a murderous silence, then she rediscovers her self-loathing as she says, "I looked forward to it, Don. I wanted it. I was giddy for it. And it wasn't until afterwards that I suddenly remembered..." she's crying again, "...th...that we were...doing this for a baby. Don," she moans, "I didn't sleep with him today to make a baby! I cheated on you! I ruined everything!"

She degenerates into wordless sobs. And I don't speak. I don't dare.

Adam shows himself out without a word.

-

August 16

"I suppose it's over now." Katheryn sounds small, sad. Just like Melody did a few days ago. "I'm sorry it turned out like this. It was very kind of you to try." She puts a hand over mine.

I smile as best I can, just to let her know I hear her and am glad to see her face, but I don't reply.

She pulls out a chair and hoists herself into it, turning her wheelchair off to the side. She always does love a chance to sit in a regular chair. I suppose it makes her feel less different.

"I understand," she adds. "I do, Don. I just wanted to see if you were okay, and tell you how much we love you for what you tried to do."

I think about that. "I don't know how I feel. It hurts bad, but...I don't know."

She thinks about that a moment. "It's hard to take. I know."

"Do you?"

The bitterness both surprises and shames me, and she does me the favor of not responding. Katheryn has lived every day of the last 5 years with an inability to provide for her husband that makes my insecurities seem facile. For her to ignore that snap truly is a kindness, and a sign of strength. "There was never any doubt that he was enjoying it," she observes. "I mean...I knew what 'sex' meant. almost any other woman out there is capable of giving him what I no longer can. But for you...I mean, it's different. For the capable. For a man. For someone who is risking much and asking nothing in return."

I wince. Of course she's hurting too, you asshole. "How do you deal with it?" I ask.

"Honestly, I don't know. I'm a mess, but what else is new?" She laughs mirthlessly. "The part of me that isn't scared and alone is happy for him, I guess."

"And what does that first part say to do?" I ask. "The scared and alone part?"

"It tells me I'm useless." It's the truest thing she's said. I can tell it.

I don't know what to say. In the silence, she sniffles.

"What do you think we should do?" I ask.

"It's your choice to make. You deserve that, at the least."

"No." It's my turn to place my hand over hers.

"Don, no one can say what's best but you."

"That's not how this works. Tell me what you want."

She turns her head away. After a time, she whispers, "I can't."

"I know that a lot of you wants to continue. But what is the scared and alone part saying?"

"Not listening to that part is how I'm being brave."

Fair point. I rub my eyes. "Do you think they'll leave us?"

"Never. And neither do you. Don't pretend otherwise."

"Do you think they'll fall in love?"

"That's a conversation we had months ago."

"Things were different then."

"We're they?" She breathes. "They won't fall in love. But there will be some...affection. Connection."

"Will be?"

"It's there now. You've seen it. They share intimacies."

"They share more than that." The list ticks off in my head. Bodily fluids, taste and smell, physical warmth are only the very start.

"Hmm. I suppose they do. Do you think there might be some love there?"

I shake my head, answering honestly. "Infatuation is different than love."

"It can lead to love."

"Sometimes. Not always. Not this time."

She considers this. "I agree. I don't think they match well enough emotionally to ever fall in love." But her voice takes on a soft and tentative tone as she adds, "You still have to end it, Don. For you. Melody says you don't even talk to her. You just mope around the house. And you're getting so thin."

"I've been thinking, that's all. Getting my head on straight. I'll talk to her tonight."

"And?"

"And tell her the truth. That I'm hurt, and I'm scared, and it's already been so long that I've been...alone. But I'm not leaving, and I trust and love her." I think about it. "Honestly, I'm going to suggest that we keep going. And tell her the pain that comes from knowing how much she's..." I wince. "Anyway, it pales compared to what the alternative would be. To her hating it, and forcing herself to be complicite in her own physical abuse." I make a face. "If it comes down to that choice, I suppose I actually want her to enjoy it."

"You vote to continue? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Katheryn starts crying and laughing at the same time. "Thank you," she gasps. "Thank you so much!"

I pat her hand and force another smile.

-

August 20

I glance over at Melody as I stand in the kitchen, scooping out a melon. She sits at the table, staring at the same page of her book as she was staring at an hour ago, eyes not scanning but just gazing dully forward.

Turning away, I quickly grab the two hollowed-out melon halves and shove them up my shirt.

"Weren't you ever going to say anything to me?" I ask cryptically as I adjust them.

She looks up, confused. "What?"

"Don't tell me you hadn't noticed." I glance over my shoulder. She looks mystified. Then I pull my shirt hard against the two melon halves, trapping them over my pecs, and swing around. "Is it because theyre bigger than yours?" I make a pouty face, squeezing one lovingly.

She gawks, blinks, then snorts in realization and falls into laughter.

I start laughing, too...mostly at her snort. It really was something. Like a 200 pound man worth of snort.

By the time it ends we're both wiping at tears.

-

August 28

We're all at the bar, laughing and having a good time.

It's only been business as usual for a few days, but I think we all feel a little relief that the tempest is past.

Melody and Adam get up to play a game of darts, Mel checking for approval and squeezing my hand before going, and Katheryn and I pass on the chance to join in.

We enjoy the occasional opportunity to talk alone.

"You seem to be feeling better," she says tentatively.

I shrug, watching our spouses interact. Melody throws a dart, laughs hard at something Adam says when it bounces off the wall, and let's him come up behind her to teach her to throw. His arm wraps casually around her waist, and she glances nervously at us before looking up and listening.

"I'm working my way through it."

Katheryn sips her drink, eyebrows coming together. "That's cryptic, Don. And it's not the same as saying you're okay."

"It's fine."

"Should we tell them to cool it? Just a little while longer?" She tilts her beer bottle in their direction. "They wouldn't be so open about it if they knew you were still hurting."

"No." I'm still watching them. He kisses her earlobe; she practically melts. "Let them have their fun."

"Ah ha!" She points accusingly. "You ARE hurting!" She's at least a little surprised. Guess I had her fooled, too.

I see no reason to reply. Adam makes a quip, and Melody swats his ass, pretending to scold him as he steps away.

"You need to tell her." Katheryn bites her lip. "She believed you when you said you wanted her to enjoy it."

"She's not doing anything wrong."

"You deserve to be heard..."

"And I have the right to wave that, if I want." I sigh. "They are pretty happy, aren't they?"

"Like playful puppies," she promises. "That's all." Then, "That IS all it is, you know."

I nod. I do know that. I just don't know how much it really helps.

"But at your expense." She's full of sympathy. "It isn't fair."

I watch them goof around and laugh at themselves as they approach the table. "I have a right to waive fairness, too," I say, ending the debate.

"Hey, you two," Adam says as he sits down and the conversation dies. "Sometimes I think WE should be jealous of YOU."

Melody doesn't sit, though. "I'd like to dance with my one true love," she says. "Don? Would you be so kind as to dance with me?" I look up at her and see need in her eyes. "Please?"

So I nod. And we dance, for over an hour.

-

September 10

Sally stumbles as we come through the door, the wine affecting her balance.

"Ohwow," she slurs the words together. "I think I'm drunk."

I chuckle, coming up and helping her with her coat. "You think?"

"I shouldn't have had so much. I'm trying to have a baby." She pats her tummy. "Hey, how come you're not drunnnk?" She sways. Yikes.

"Because I had to drive."

"You're the best!" She throws out her arms and falls into a hug. "That was a dumb movie, though."

"Yeah, but in a fun way."

"In a dumb way!" She laughs. "Next time I pick. But I had a wonderful time." She sniffles. "I think I need to lay down." I reach down and scoop her up. "Oh," she giggles. "This is nice."

"I think I might drop you."

"You never would." She kisses my cheek.

Guilty as charged.

After I help her to bed I stand back for a moment and admire her frame, outlined by her slinky dress.

"I love you," she murmurs, already half asleep.

"I love you, too."

"I like dates with you." she rolls over. "You're the best."

And then she's asleep. The first snore is out before I've changed into my pajama shorts.

I slip downstairs, hop on the computer, and for the first time in months I find the gumption to pleasure myself.

It's a lonely ending, but it was a wonderful evening.

-

September 18

Once you get past the nervous glances...and everybody's endless need for reassurance...and the inability to talk casually about Mel's day...and the ever-changing clean sheets on the guest bed...and the absence of sex...and the fact that she's a little fitter looking and looks unavoidably vibrant and youthful...it all starts to feel...normal, I guess.

Maybe we're all going insane. More tea, Mr Hatter? No thanks. I'm fasting.

It's Saturday. We're walking through the grocery store, and she can't stop touching my arm. One of a million ways that she expresses her silent fear.

I don't express mine at all. I don't dare.

-

September 24

A stunning sky above me, the sidewalk leading me forward, and a beautiful woman's fingers interlocked with mine.

"It's beautiful out," she says.

The sunlight runs loving fingers through her hair.

"It is," I agree. "It really is."

She breathes deep. "I feel so content right now."

I flinch, catching the unintended implication. "Can you tell me something?" I ask impulsively.

"Sure."

"Have you had sex today?"

Her hand leaves mine. "Don..."

"Just be honest. It's okay. I'm not mad."

She nods, tiny and almost imperceptable.

My stomach twists, but I do a good job of smiling and saying, "Okay. It's okay, baby. I promise." I kiss her and she takes my hand again.

"Why on earth did you ask me that?" She sounds upset, still.

"Because you said you're content, and I can see how relaxed and happy you are. So it just occurred to me that you probably had. So I asked."

She shakes her head. "I'd rather you didn't know. It bothers me."

I wish I hadn't asked, too. But it was out before I could think about it, and once committed I was forced into a series of terrible self-betrayals in the name of damage control.

I add one more self-betrayal to the list: I lie, and tell her, "Because I love you so much, when something makes you happy it makes me happy as well."

She turns, studies my face, believes me, and lurches in for a needy kiss. "I love you so much," she says into my mouth.

Not as much as I love you.

-

October 1

She's sitting on the couch when I return home. She looks like she's been crying. she probably has been.

She leaps up when she sees me, her eyes brimming with fear and hope, but stops short of running to me when she sees the look on my face.

"Go to bed," I tell her wearily. "It's late."

She doesn't move. "I was scared," she whispers. "I couldn't reach you."

"I just needed some time to myself." I hold up the pill bottle. "And I decided to stop off at the clinic, which turned out to be a good thing. I'm on three days of bed rest, starting now."

This only makes her look more miserably guilty. "About what...what you saw..."

"No." I have no interest in talking about that, and I half smile to defuse her. "I should have called first. I didn't think."

"How long were you here? Did you...I mean what did you..." she trails off. There's no good way to ask it.

"Barely at all," I shrug the heaviest shoulders on earth. "I didn't see anything, Mel." It's such a lazy lie, and I know she doesn't believe it, but we both want it to be true. That will be enough. "Anyway, you know it's okay."

She studies me for a moment, lip quivering, and then sighs and comes forward. We are now in agreement: pretend the version of the story we wish were true...is.

A hug brings on a new frown. Rolling up her sleeve, she puts her forearm to my cheek. "You have a fever." The tone turns immediately maternal. "And you look like death warmed over. Let's get you into bed."

I let her lead me to bed, though I stop her when she tries to help me undress. I can only be so vulnerable around you now, my Melody. I'm sorry for that.

She blanches at the protective rejection, but recovers fast enough. "I can't remember the last time you were sick," she says. "No wonder you left work early..."

I wish like hell I hadn't. I wish that I had stayed away, or that I had left as soon as I knew he was here. I was just so tired, and not thinking straight.

Help me, someone, please. I'm all alone and I cannot breathe.

-

October 2

Knowing that it's a dream doesn't help. Not in the least.

I am trapped, begging to be let out, and probably fevered and shaking in my bed somewhere far, far away.

They rut in front of me, sometimes melting into a single person and other times breaking violently apart to come together in new and obscene ways.

I've never experienced some of the things they are doing. Are those things just a mechanic of the dream? Or are they memories of what I saw? There's no way to tell while I'm here.

She feasts upon him, and it feels like a memory. I shake my head. Memories can be a lie. Can't they?

Then he grunts his release, and I can't help from crying out.

You can't get pregnant that way. And for god's sake, my Melody doesn't even DO that!

-

October 3

The world of nightmares is vanquished by soft sunlight, which comes in like a cheat, sneaking past the edge of curtains to enter my bedroom.

I blink. It's late morning. Why did my alarm clock not go off? I should be at work...

Real memory comes back to me, dark as any dream. I lay back down and shut the sun out.

-

October 4

"...it's more than that, though." Katheryn sips her coffee. "I worry that maybe he's depressed. Clinically, I mean."

"I don't know," Melody frowns. "I mean, he has lost some weight. You're right about that. But most of the time he seems like everything is ok. Some days you wouldn't even guess that anything is different from a year ago."

"It is, though. And he isn't talking about it enough."

Melody sighs. If anything, she thinks we talk about it too much. "Maybe a counselor would do us both some good, you know?" she admites. "I mean, sometimes I get so scared by my own exc-" she trails off as she looks up. "Honey," she beams. "You're up!" Then the smile melts as she takes me in. "Are you...are you sure you should be out of bed?"

-

October 17

I don't tend to think of board games as particularly enjoyable, but I'm sure enjoying this one. Maybe it's because I'm winning. Or, maybe because it's so small and unimportant...so simple in its to and fro.

Probably a bit of both.

It stops being small and unimportant when Adam hits a streak of luck and Katheryn squeals in mock indignation. "Why you little cheater!" She scolds gleefully.

The energy seems to leak out of the room, and suddenly we're all studying the floor.

"Hey," I try to make light, "if he's the one cheating, then why am I the one winning?"

No laughs. Just a lot of silence.

"Katheryn?" Melody's voice is small.

"Yes?"

"Do you ever get...angry at us? At...me?"

No one is making eye contact. Gosh, what an interesting board this game has. Right everyone?

Katheryn sighs. "Let's talk about something else." She sips her drink. "I was just joking around."

"I need to know."

That board! It's so colorful, so full of squares. I doubt any of us will ever look up from it.

"Honestly," Katheryn draws out the word, "no. I suppose I get mad at myself, though. I've had a few good cries, and a few days when I couldn't lift myself up." She shifts uncomfortably. "And I do get jealous. Incredibly so. But when I see how happy my husband is, part of me starts to wish it would never end." she grunts. "I hate that part more than anything."

Silence. That board. Wowee. We all just love it.

After a time Katheryn looks around the room. "Whose turn is it?"

But the only thing that gets her is more silence.

-

November 3

"Okay," the counselor folds his hands together, leaning back in his chair and peering over his glasses at us. "That was a pretty powerful summary of your feelings, Don. It will give us a lot to talk about in future sessions." He tilts his head. "Melody, do you need a few minutes before reading yours?"

Melody is staring at me like she's just learned I might die or something. She shakes her head slowly. "I had no idea," she whispers.

I smile and grip her hand. "That's why we're here. To tell each other the things that are hardest to tell."

But I can see that the counselor knows the truth. It's there in the way his gaze lingers on me after every phrase, and in the patient disappointment tucked away deep down in his tone.

He knows that I'm withholding more than I share. And he suspects that I will never tell her the whole truth.

He's right. I won't.

Why would I? What benefit would there be to letting her see how much this is killing me?

-

November 10

A simple text message on her phone this morning, as I get ready for work.

"Is he gone yet?"

-

November 19

"Was that him? Is he here?"

I turn from my lookout spot by the window. "Just a car going by."

The girls look relieved, and go swiftly back to decorating. They are a sight...both wearing swimsuits and hula gear and oversized party sunglasses. They are scurrying about, giggling as they put the last of the tiki-themed decorations around the house.

Adam has always joked that someday he'd go to Maui for his birthday, and today they're going to make Maui come to him.

I watch as Melody pauses to check her cleavage, adjusting the bikini top a bit. Then Kathy calls over to her to help hang something, and she positively floats off in the direction of her voice.