Never smile at strangers

“You know, I probably shouldn’t be doing this, Mrs. . . uh, Rachel.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything wrong. We’re just—”

“No,” he interrupted. “It’s not that. It’s because I gave Haley a lecture about not drinkin’ so much. She’s goin’ through a really hard time and is hitting the booze too hard. Even though we’re technically not together right now, I’m still really worried about her and this kinda makes me feel like a hypocrite, you know?”

Rachel wasn’t sure what to say.

“Besides, I really oughta take a shower,” he said. “I could come back after—”

“Don’t be silly,” Rachel exclaimed, patting the air. “You can’t drive in this condition. Just take a shower here. You can change into something of Tom’s.”

After a little more prodding, Mac took the shower. Then, afterward, mid-way through their second bottle of wine, they began to kiss. In her drunken state, Rachel was unsure who had kissed who first. All she knew was that it felt better than anything had in a long while.

The first kisses were clumsy and wet, but also warm and exciting. Rachel tasted wine and a hint of spearmint chewing gum on Mac’s tongue. Then, she found herself leading him into the back of the house, to her bedroom.

There, she ripped back the purple comforter, unbuttoned the pair of shorts Mac was borrowing from Tom, and pulled the zipper down. She began unbuttoning her own blouse and watched Mac as he stared at her. He seemed very nervous. Thinking it was sweet, she gently pushed him down, and pressed her body against his.

They kissed for a long while, their mouths hot and soft. The temperature inside her chest and between her legs spiraled as she kissed his neck and ran her hands through his short, thick hair.

She stroked him.

And his breathing grew louder.

Pulling Tom’s t-shirt from Mac’s back, she gazed at his wide, ta

These days, Tom was too quick, too removed. As though it was a chore, or if the experience was just his own. Like she wasn’t there, or at least didn’t need to be.

She thought about Mac’s ex-girlfriend and wondered if he, too, was thinking about her. How different was her body from 19-year-old Haley’s? Naked, did she seem that much older?

He rose above her and threaded his fingers through her hair. “You sure you want to do this?” he whispered.

“I’m sure,” Rachel whispered back. And she was. Why not? Tom had done it with someone outside of the marriage. Why couldn’t she? Revenge, she thought, would help mend her heart.

Mac’s touch was soothing. Why would Haley give up someone this lovely, this caring? Mac was the whole package: manly but still warm, gentle. The things Tom would never be again, hadn’t quite been in the first place.

Mac’s hands were all over her. And she was pleasantly surprised by how hard he was. She stroked him harder, faster. Wondering if his girlfriend had been sensitive to his needs, she lowered herself, her face parallel to his chest, then his stomach. . . his hips. Then, finally arriving at her destination, she made him moan even louder.

***

THE SECOND TIME was different, less tender. Rachel could tell he was much less nervous and began to wonder if he’d been holding out the first time. Maybe he’d been thinking of her as a thirty-something year old, a novelty, and now he realized that age was just what it was, an unforgiving number.

He was better than Tom had ever been. He took more time, moved with much more precision.

Rachel now lay with her neck extended. Mac pi

He rose to kiss her again and she wrapped her arms around his back. His skin was smoother than Tom’s, even when Tom was his age. Tighter, more supple, more tan. His breath was now warm and heavy next to her ear. His breath smelled of gum again, always smelled of gum. When had he chewed it? Why hadn’t she seen him stick it in his mouth? He started to move lower and Rachel laughed.

His mouth was suddenly by her ear again. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, more than okay.” she said, having no idea why she’d laughed. She hadn’t meant to. It had something to do with the cloud the wine had made in her head. The cloud that cushioned her thoughts, dulled their razor-like talons.

Mac lowered his body, kissed her abdomen, and slowly worked his way down below. Using long, hard strokes of his tongue, he thoroughly explored her with his mouth. When she began to squirm, unable to stand it any longer, he lowered his hips against hers, and entered her.

Afterward, they slept on their sides, their legs entangled, Mac’s big arm draped over her. They slept long and hard. Rachel’s sleep, for once, was peaceful and uninterrupted. Her dreams were of rain clouds. Tender, cleansing, big billowy white clouds. And she wanted nothing more than for them to just swallow her up.

She awoke to a ray of sunlight dancing across her eyelids. Mac was snoring softly, his smooth back to her. She sat up and turned to face the window. She startled.

Someone was looking in.

It was Tom.

Chapter 48

BY THE TIME Rachel pulled on her robe and made it out of the bedroom, Tom was in the kitchen, opening a cabinet. He casually pulled out a glass and took his time filling it with water.

“I guess we’re even,” he muttered.

Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “I have a feeling we’re far from even, Tom.”

The two stood in the kitchen in silence, Tom drinking the water he’d just poured and her at a loss for words. She waited for the guilt. . . remorse. . . to hit her. But there was none. If anything, she felt better than she had in a long time. Sleeping with Mac had opened her eyes in an odd sort of way. He’d been kind to her, gentle, caring. She felt desirable and feminine again and realized that the lack of desire in their marriage hadn’t been her fault.

But what was her fault was that all of her focus had been on Tom and somewhere along the line she’d stopped loving herself.

“You must be wondering why I’m back early? And without the kids?” Tom said.

Yes, she had.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?” Rachel asked, folding the robe over her thighs and taking a seat at the table.

“Well, seeming that I come home to find you bedding an 18-year-old—”

“Twenty-one,” she interrupted. “Two years older than the little whore you were fucking.”

Tom smirked. “Fair enough. Anyway, I came home so we could have a discussion. One that’s long overdue. “But now,” he said, filling his glass again, “I’ll just let my lawyer handle the discussions. Fair enough?”

Rachel didn’t react. Without emotion, she said: “You just do that, Tom. And tell him to expedite things. I’ve wasted way too much time as it is.”

And she meant it.

***

SEVEN HOURS LATER, Rachel dropped to all fours on the ceramic tile. She’d dropped a glass and it now lay in jagged pieces in front of the sink. She hurriedly picked up the bits, tossing them in the garbage can. The kids had just returned home and she didn’t want them to see that she had been drinking.

She knew the trick to drinking was knowing when to stop, but she’d been unable to master the trick her whole life. The only way she didn’t drink too much was when she didn’t drink period. She wasn’t even sure why she had drank today. She’d felt so strong after the conversation with Tom.

The drinking. It was a problem she would deal with soon. But one thing at a time.