Sometimes arguments are minor things that are forgotten the moment they’re over, but sometimes they aren’t.
Sometimes they last a lot longer than they should.
I sit on the bench for a long time, stewing over Dave and Kevin and the whole situation. Then I start to feel bad about what I said, so I stop by Dave’s room to apologize.
He’s not there. A nurse coming out of the next room tells me that Dave went on the day trip to a nearby waterfall, which left a few minutes ago.
Well, fine. If that’s the way he wants to be, then I’ll just give him some space. It’s not like I want to hang around him constantly anyway.
I wish Marjorie were still here. I suddenly miss her like crazy. Feeling glum and restless and sad, I call up Beth, who invites me to have lunch with her. She’s getting a manicure afterward, and she takes me along.
I feel better after lunch and a manicure. Dave will be back after dinner, and then everything will be fine.
Except Dave doesn’t pick up the phone when I call him in the evening.
He’s pouting.
I decide I’ve made enough efforts for the day. If he wants to be an adult about it, he can contact me. I go to bed and read until I’m tired. Then I fall asleep.
I can’t help but think about how Dave shared the bed with me last night. I can’t help but think about the way we were together this morning.
But I know how life works. It’s always been the same. Never let yourself think daydreams are coming true, because the real world will just catch up with you—usually come crashing down around your head.
I don’t sleep very well, and I wake up early. At least the sky is clear as I wrap up warmly so I can sit on my patio drinking tea and watch as the sky starts to lighten.
When it’s light enough, I decide that there’s just enough time to make it to the bench and back. I was taking walks in the mornings long before Dave came around. I’m not going to change everything just because he’s angry with me.
Feeling determined, I get dressed, putting on a jacket because the air is still nippy. It will be lovely this afternoon, with the cool air and warm sun, but the sun isn’t high enough yet to do much warming.
When I get in sight of the bench, I stop abruptly.
Dave is sitting there.
I’m tempted to turn around and go back, but that’s a silly, petty gesture. I try very hard not to give in to such impulses. I don’t always succeed, but I try.
I walk slowly over to the bench and sit down.
Dave has been watching me since I got into sight. I can’t tell from his face how he’s feeling this morning.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” he says at last.
“I always come.”
He nods, his face softening just slightly.
It’s enough. I was the one who said something wrong, so I’m the one who should apologize. “I’m sorry. For saying that yesterday. It wasn’t nice, and it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”
He lets out a breath, and it looks like the tension is blown out of his body with his exhale. He reaches out to pull me against his side, wrapping his arm around me. “I’m sorry too, sweetheart.”
He’s never called me that before. He’s never called me any sort of endearment. I like it.
I like it a lot.
“What are you sorry for?” I place my hand on his chest, over his heart. He’s wearing a lot of clothes—T-shirt, sweater, jacket—but I can still feel his heartbeat on my palm.
“For being an ass about it.”
I smile, and he wraps both arms around me in a hug.
I hug him back, feeling safe and secure and happy in his embrace.
He might not be as strong as he used to be, but he’s strong enough for me.
I hope I’m strong enough for him too.
“Let’s not fight anymore,” I say, pulling away enough to look up at his face.
He’s smiling, as if he’s feeling something similar. “Agreed.”
I’m not sure that I should ask the question right now, since it will bring back up a difficult subject, but I really need to know. “So what are you going to do about Kevin?”
He makes a face. “I don’t know.”
“Is he really pressuring you?”
“Not really.”
I don’t know if this is true or not, but I don’t question it at the moment. “I’d hate for you to leave,” I say, feeling rather vulnerable as I say the words, but saying them anyway.
His eyes are very tender on my face. “I’m not going to leave you, sweetheart. Surely you know that. I love you.”
My breath hitches in my throat, and it takes me a minute to process that he’s actually said what I think he’s said. “You do?”
“Of course. Didn’t you know that?”
“No. I didn’t know that.”
“Well, I do. I love you.” He’s still holding my eyes, and his expression has become questioning, expectant.
“I love you too,” I blurt out, since I know it’s true and I know I need to say it.
His face relaxes palpably. “Well, good.”
“It is good.”
“I agree.”
So we’re back to saying silly things, but I figure it’s all right. He kisses me, slow and soft, and then he adjusts us so both of his arms can hold me comfortably.
He said he’s not going to leave me. That’s more of a relief than I deserve.
We sit together for a long time, the sun finally starting to warm up the air, the trees, the world.
Then I say absently, “I had a terrible night.”
“So did I. I hardly slept at all.”
“You should rest this afternoon,” I say, thinking that he does look rather tired.
I don’t like him to look tired. I don’t like him to look anything but healthy.
I’m suddenly terrified that he’s over seventy-five and doesn’t necessarily have a lot of years to live.
The same is true of me, of course, but that doesn’t bother me nearly so much.
“I’ll rest,” he murmurs, stroking my hair, “if you rest with me.”
“Okay.” I smile, staring out at Valentine Valley.
We do rest together that afternoon—in my bed. We actually do take a nap, followed by some leisurely kissing and caressing.
We both have a very nice time.
I make an appointment with the doctor for two days later.
I want to have sex with Dave if it’s a possibility for us, but I’m worried about it being uncomfortable for me. Maybe some lubricant is all I need, but I’ll feel better about getting some medical advice first.
I’m half excited and half embarrassed when I return with lubricant, a prescribed cream, and some good advice.
It’s not like I’m going to jump Dave now that I have the necessary provisions. But at least it feels like it’s a possibility.
Dave has asked me to go with him to the symphony on Friday night, so maybe that will be a good time for us to progress.
It’s a strange week. Sometimes I feel a bit like a teenager, all jittery and excited about something that feels entirely new. In general, our routine this week is what it always has been. We walk in the mornings—after breakfast now because it’s getting cooler—have our meals at normal times, and do some of the planned activities. It’s not like I’m thinking about sex every minute of the day. That would be far too exhausting for me. But it does feel like I have a little secret that makes the everyday routine more exciting.
I do make a point of not having a lot of overblown fantasies. I’ve always been realistic, and I’m quite sure, when we finally get to do it, it’s not going to be perfect.
And that’s just fine for me. He loves me. I love him.
I never thought I’d be in this situation at my stage of life.
On Friday evening, I spend a lot of time showering and dressing before we leave. I wear a black satin skirt and a silk top that drapes nicely over my curves. I wear my best string of beads—gold alternating with lovely ruby-colored stones.
I just know tonight is going to be wonderful.
He comes to my door at exactly six thirty, wearing a black suit that makes him look very distinguished. He has a bouquet of roses for me.
I’m feeling quite giddy and am trying to talk myself down from it as we leave the residence, driven in a Town Car he hired for the occasion.
We go out to dinner first, and then we have excellent seats for the symphony. I know he must have spent a lot of money on this outing, and fortunately both of us seem to be enjoying it a lot.
It’s late when we get back, and I’m feeling very tired. I never stay out this late, and I can barely keep my eyes open on the drive back.
But I don’t want the evening to end yet. He’s made such an effort tonight. I can make an effort too. I want to be with him in every way.
He leans down to kiss me at my door, and I wrap my arms around him. “Are you tired?” he murmurs against my lips.
“A little,” I admit, not wanting to completely lie to him. “Do you want to come in for a cup of tea or anything?” Maybe tea will revive me enough for us to progress to the rest of the night.
“Sure.” He smiles and follows me inside.
The tea helps a little, but not much. And soon I’m trailing off whenever I try to say something to him.
“You’re exhausted,” he says at last, straightening up and looking at me fondly. “You should go to bed.”
“Oh. Did you … did you want to spend the night with me?”
He pauses for a few seconds. “Are you sure?”
“I am. I really want to spend the night with you.”
This seems to really please him, and I’m feeling both happy and sleepy as he leaves for a few minutes to go to his room to get ready for bed.
He comes back with a zippered pouch, which he tells me is his toothbrush and his medication for the morning.
This makes perfect sense to me.
I’ve changed into a pretty dark red nightgown, and I take off my robe rather shyly, aware that he’s watching me.
The night seems very silent, the room very dark when we turn out the lights.
He pulls me into his arms, and we kiss for a minute. It’s lovely, but I just can’t concentrate.
“You’re too tired,” he murmurs, after he pulls away. His face is close to mine in the darkness.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not used to such late nights.”
“I know. Let’s go to sleep.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. To tell you the truth, I’m tired too.”
There’s a dry note in his tone that proves he’s telling the truth. I laugh softly and give him a hug. Then I turn over onto my side and he spoons me from behind.
It’s very nice to fall asleep like this, to know that he’s loving me, even as we drift off.
And I figure it’s okay to not have had a steamy evening, even though I thought it would be.
There’s always tomorrow, after all.
The next morning, I wake up aware that Dave has gotten out of the bed. A quick glance at the clock shows it’s almost five.
I’m usually up before now. I did wake up a couple of times during the night to go to the bathroom, but that’s normal and I fell right back to sleep.
I feel rested now, and I would feel comfortable if I didn’t have to pee.
I hear the toilet flush and the water running from the bathroom. And then after a few minutes, Dave comes back into the room and crawls into bed beside me. It smells like he’s brushed his teeth.
I get up immediately, since now I really have to go. I brush my teeth too, and then I brush my hair before I go back to bed.
He’s awake. I can see his eyes open since I leave the bathroom light on like last time.
It casts a pleasing glow into the room—dim but not dark.
“How do you feel this morning?” he asks as I crawl back under the covers and roll over so I’m facing him.
“Pretty good. How about you?”
“I feel great.”
“Good.” Smiling, I scoot over so I can brush my fingers over his face. “I always have more energy in the mornings.”
“Me too.” He reaches out to kiss me, and we both know what we want, so it gets deep quicker than usual. Soon he has me rolled over onto my back. He’s on his side, leaning over enough to keep kissing me.
“I went to the doctor earlier this week,” I say rather breathlessly as his hand runs up and down my body.
“I know.”
There’s a particular timbre to his voice that I recognize. “But you don’t know what I asked her.”
“I might have an idea.”
I gasp slightly and pull out of the kiss. “You do?”
“I know how to put two and two together.” He’s smiling now, and I love the mingling of humor and fondness, teasing and deep understanding I see in his expression.
I give an exaggerated sniff. “If you’re going to be smug about it, then maybe I don’t want to do anything about my doctor’s appointment.”
He chuckles and leans back down to kiss me. “I think maybe you do.”
That kind of ego shouldn’t be rewarded, but I’m too full of affection to put up much of a fight. I soften into the kiss, and our tongues start to glide together deliciously.
He’s fondling one of my breasts. It all feels really good.
He seems to be taking his time, and I start to worry that he thinks I need a lot of coddling in order to get into the mood. So I say, “I’m good, Dave. You can start any time.”
“I have started.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant. But we’re going to take care of you first.”
I feel a little shiver of excitement, but I say, “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to.” He raises his head with a wry look. “The truth is, I need to wait thirty to sixty minutes anyway.”
My breath catches in my throat as I realize what he means. My eyes go wide. “You took a pill!”
He looks adorably sheepish. “I may have done.”
I’m laughing as I hug him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I talked to the PA a few days ago, and she says it could help, if I’m worried. I just want to make sure it’s good for you.”
I’m so full of such a mingling of feeling that I can hardly contain it. “It’s always good.”
“I’m glad. But I’ve been kind of wanting to try it, anyway.”
“Okay. We’ll try it.”
“So I might as well kill a little time in the meantime.” He’s smiling again, evidently relieved by my reaction.
That sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea to me.
He seems determined to bring me pleasure this morning, and he spends a lot of time kissing and caressing me. I enjoy all of it, my body buzzing pleasantly in response. I don’t know if I can reach orgasm, though. It’s not something that happens to me much anymore. I know he wants me to, and I don’t want to disappoint him, but my body isn’t what it used to be.
When Dave pushes up my nightgown and slides down my underwear, I feel a little anxious. I enjoy being intimate with him, but this is different—this is more.
To hide the anxiety, I reach over and pull the lubricant out of the nightstand drawer. “Here. The doctor suggested I use this.”
Dave seems to think this is a good idea, as he squeezes some out onto his hands before he starts to stroke between my legs.
I’d been thinking he was ready to move on to his portion of events, but evidently not. He keeps stroking me as he leans down to suckle at one of my breasts.
Both at once feels very nice, and the additional moisture allows him to slide his fingers inside me. It’s good. Really good. I breathe to stay relaxed. I’m not really expecting to come, but I might as well enjoy it. Even after a couple of minutes, he continues the ministration.
My pulse is quickening, though, and I’m so focused on breathing and staying relaxed that the orgasm hits me unexpectedly.
I cry out as the pleasure hits me, and I try to stifle it by turning my head into the pillow. But my body responds as it’s made to respond, shaking and tightening and then relaxing deliciously.
Dave is smiling broadly as my mind starts to clear again and I stretch out with the kind of satisfaction I haven’t felt in a really long time.
“Don’t get smug,” I tell him with a narrow-eyed look.
He laughs and pulls himself up so he can kiss me. “You didn’t think I could do it.”
“I never said so.”
“But you were thinking it.”
“Maybe. My body isn’t what it was.”
He shakes his head. “Your body is perfect.”
“You’re such a liar.” Despite my words, I can’t help but caress his face, his head, his shoulders. I want to touch him all over. I want to somehow express how full my heart is.
“It’s not a lie if I believe it.”
He means it. There’s no way for me to deny it. With a throaty sound, I pull him down into a deep kiss.
As we kiss, he repositions himself so he’s lying between my legs. He rocks against me lightly, and I can feel that his body has been responding too.
I reach down to stroke him, pleased and surprised to find that he’s already much harder than I’ve felt him before. “I think that pill is working.”
He groans in pleasure and rolls over, pushing down his pants so I can better reach his erection.
Both of our eyes widen as we see the effect the pill has had.
“Well, look at that,” Dave says.
I burst into laughter at the awed note in his tone. Then he laughs too, and he rolls over to kiss me again. “I have condoms if you want to use one,” he murmurs as he pulls away from my lips at last. “But I have a clean bill of health from the doctor.”
“So do I. We’ll be fine. Just … just be careful. It’s been a really long time for me.”
“It’s been a long time for me too,” he admits, reaching over for the lubricant again.
It’s not nearly as scary as I thought it would be. He positions himself between my legs in a way that’s basically comfortable for both of us, although he’ll obviously have to do more of the work. The lubricant and my earlier orgasm have helped enough that it’s not uncomfortable for me when he slowly maneuvers himself in.
We’re both breathing heavily and looking each other in the eyes when he starts to rock slowly.
It feels good. And natural. And like we’re loving each other. Even more so when he leans down to kiss me.
He doesn’t move fast or hard, and the pill has helped enough that he can last a long time. There’s no way I’m going to come again, but it feels really good, and I hear myself making silly huffs and sounds as we rock together. He’s grunting too. We can’t talk, but we don’t need to talk. Anything we said would be irrelevant.
We’re in this together, and both of us know it.
Eventually, his body starts to tighten more. He pulls out of the kiss and accelerates his breathing and his thrusts at the same time.
It’s getting a little uncomfortable now for me as the lubricant starts to wear off, but not enough to make me want to stop. I love how he looks as he takes his pleasure in me, as he lets go of his restraint.
His whole body clenches and then releases as the pleasure spreads out on his face. I pull him down into a hug when he comes, breathing out my name and that he loves me.
I love him too.
More than I thought I could love anyone.
As we relax together afterward, I suddenly hate the fact that we no longer have a lifetime to spend together.