Mari

THE PHONE IS RINGING. Mari waits for Julian to answer. She’s in her room, having slipped away upstairs, holding the phone tightly, her hand shaking, punching the letters J, U, and L into the search screen. It’s eight o’clock. In a family with kids they must have opened presents long before eight. Julian’s kids might already be asleep. So she has mustered the courage to call him. The phone continues to ring. Her heart pounds hard for a few beats, but it calms down by the third ring. She thinks he isn’t going to answer. Then, after the fourth ring, she hears his familiar voice. A loving voice.

“Well, hi.”

“Hi,” Mari says, her own voice tender in spite of herself. “I’m not … I’m not calling for any particular reason. I just wanted to hear what … what …”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Why haven’t you called me?” Mari asks, a tremble that promises tears already in her voice.

Julian is quiet for a second. The silence sounds like an accusation. Mari regrets her question. She shouldn’t make demands. She just has to take whatever Julian’s willing to give.

“We’ve been very busy with Christmas — housework and everything,” Julian gently explains. “I’ve been thinking about my dissertation topic, getting started on it. Are you upset?”

“Um,” Mari says, feeling pleasure spread from behind her nose into her neck and shoulders and down, farther down.

“How can I make it up to you, if you’re upset at me?” Julian asks, and the caress of his voice makes Mari wet. “My love,” he whispers, and Mari sighs.

“Where are you? Are you in your own room?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Do you want me as much as I want you?” Julian whispers hoarsely.

“Yes,” Mari says.

“I’m so hard.”

“Can’t your … wife hear you?”

“No, I’m alone here. Tell me what you’re wearing. Tell me how wet you are.”

His voice is tender and husky, gentle yet commanding. Mari is aroused.

“Put your finger in your pussy,” he says.

Mari moves the phone to her left hand and puts her right middle finger carefully inside her. It feels good. She moans as her finger sinks into her and touches the right spot. Julian moans on the other end of the line.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Is your pussy all stiff and wet?”

Mari starts to get into the story.

“I’m imagining that you’re touching me … that you’re kissing my breasts and … and coming inside me. Deep.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“Fuck me,” Mari whispers.

“Louder. Say it again.”

“Fuck me. Fuck me,” she says.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Julian moans. There’s a murmur on the phone. Then a rustle, then Julian’s breathing gradually levels out. Mari takes her finger out of herself. She glances toward the door and only now realizes that her cousins could burst in at any moment. Julian still doesn’t say anything. Mari sighs. Her breath is trembling.

“Are you still there?” Julian asks.

There’s a gentleness in his voice again. It’s not frightening now. Passion in his voice frightens her. A little. She nods, then realizes he can’t hear her do it.

“I’m here,” she says, hearing the same tenderness in her own voice.

“Would you like to go out to the country the day after Christmas? We have a house about an hour’s drive from here. Just the two of us. A few days. I’m going in any case. Alone. I thought I could be alone and get some work done on my dissertation.”

“Could I? Yeah, yes, I want to.”

“I could pick you up in town. At one o’clock. Or maybe twelve-thirty — that’ll give me time to heat up the sauna before it gets dark, once we get there. Meet me in front of the Sanomatalo. Bring lots of clothes. It can be cold there when the house hasn’t been warmed up.”

“Twelve-thirty,” Mari says with a smile.

They say their goodbyes and Mari hangs up. Two more nights and she’ll see Julian. She counts the hours. Forty hours. She clings to the words he used. The L-word. Julian said that word, and with it, everything. Julian, who is hers. Julian, who is everything that means anything.