Part 15 (1/2)
”Great.” She's always so cheerful-this is someone who truly loves her chosen profession.
”How are Chloe and Claire?” she asks.
It always amazes me that despite all the patients she sees, she remembers my daughters' names. ”They're great.”
”We're here for a physical today?”
”Yes,” I say, hesitating. ”Also,” I pause for a second, trying to figure out how to say this. ”I need to discuss...something.”
”Sure. Let's discuss it.” There's a hint of curiosity in her expression.
I think about it for a second. She knows I'm in a monogamous marriage. And she probably remembers Gabe got a vasectomy last year, since we discussed it at length at my last annual physical, when I got off the birth control pill. I can't very well say, ”I need a bunch of STD tests and birth control pills,” without offering an explanation.
”Nothing's embarra.s.sing, Mirella. I'm your doctor.”
”Well, the thing is,” I say. My words feel like lead weights I just don't have the strength to drag out. ”Gabe and I have been in a loving, monogamous relations.h.i.+p for almost twenty years,” I start.
She listens intently, and I can tell she's intrigued.
I'm not sure how to tell her the rest. I decide to do it as fast as possible before I lose my nerve.
”The thing is...Gabe and I have met this wonderful couple. And we've become quite close,” I add quickly. ”We want to enter into a s.e.xual relations.h.i.+p with them.”
There. I've said it.
She looks shocked. I can tell. For a split second, her expression betrays her usual composure.
But I know I can trust her. She knows all my secrets. She's seen my ”lady parts” after all. Only two people have seen my ”lady parts” or my ”privacy” as Claire calls it. Well, there were the nurses and doctors when I had the girls, but they don't count.
I suppose Weston will be seeing my ”privacy” soon enough. I'm not sure how I feel about that. The thought unnerves me. s.e.x is such an intimate thing, and I feel like I hardly know him.
But as nervous as I am about it, the thought still arouses me.
A lot.
After the five seconds or so it takes Dr. Fisher to wrap her mind around what I've just told her, she finally asks. ”And you and your husband have discussed this thoroughly?”
”Yes...thoroughly.”
”And you both agree about this? One hundred percent?”
”Yes,” I fib a little. Honestly, Gabe seems to be on board, but I'm not completely sure about myself.
”You two are consenting adults, and how you wish to live your private lives is entirely up to you. You would actually be surprised to know just how common these types of arrangements are today.”
They are?
Dr. Fisher is amazing. This is exactly why I love her. I make a mental note to send her an extra special Christmas card this year-with glitter and gold embossing.
”But you will need to take precautions,” she warns me. ”We'll need to discuss birth control and STD prevention thoroughly.”
And that's exactly what we do. We discuss STDs and the HPV vaccine, and she orders the STD screening I've requested. She writes me a prescription for birth control-the same pill I was on not so long ago.
I've broken rule number two already.
I couldn't help myself.
Gwen and I have been best friends since her first day at the school about seven years ago. I still remember that day so clearly. I came back from maternity leave and there was this new teacher everyone had been talking about-brash, sa.s.sy, and loud. I was sure I would hate her, but it was love at first sight, and we've been inseparable ever since.
And this new development is just too big not to share. I'm going to explode if I don't confide in someone.
So I cheat.
And I tell Gwen all about it on ”Girls' Night” at our favorite dive. I still have that vision in my head-her face looms over her giant slushy Bellini-the thing is bigger than her head-and when I tell her, her jaw drops in shock.
”You're putting me on right now, Mirella,” she shrieks.
”I'm not making this up.”
She bites her lip. ”I think Weston Hanson might be the s.e.xiest man on the planet, and you lucky girl, are going to get to tap that,” she says, whispering the last words. ”I am so jealous right now.”
My breath catches thinking about him. ”I know. He's so different, enigmatic, and intense. I don't know what to expect. I'm kind of scared,” I confess. ”What if he doesn't like me...once...you know...”
It feels so nice to get this off my chest, to finally share my fears with someone.
”He will love you, Mirella. How could he not? You're so beautiful.”
”Thanks, Gwen. But you're my bestie...you almost need to say that.”
She takes a sip of her giant Bellini. ”Hey, you know me. I don't say c.r.a.p I don't mean.”
I laugh. ”That's true.”
”I say exactly what's on my mind.”
”But...” I go on, exposing my vulnerabilities to the only person I can expose them to. ”You should see his wife. She's perfection. She looks like a supermodel...tall, blond and not a single ounce of fat on her.”
”Well, that is the kind of woman men like Weston Hanson marry, isn't it? The trophy wife. But I'm sure he's aching for a gorgeous, curvaceous bod like yours, you know what I mean?”
”Maybe you're right,” I say, not quite convinced.
”Hey, he's the one who propositioned you, isn't he?” she points out. ”Obviously, he wants to be with you. Just enjoy it.”
We both sit in silence, sipping our drinks, looking over the menu. She's right. I should just stop obsessing. What will he think of me? Will I be good enough? Beautiful enough? I'm driving myself insane.
”This all seems very fun and exciting, Mirella,” Gwen adds, looking up from her menu. ”But don't you worry this could really mess up your relations.h.i.+p with Gabe?”
”Honestly, I prefer not to think about it.”
I haven't. I've pushed those thoughts away, far away. I've wrapped them up in a box, and brought them to the dark, dingy back bas.e.m.e.nt of my mind.