Had the neighbors heard his commentary during sex, they would have questioned his manliness.
“You like that?”
“Uh-huh …” I replied as he moved over me.
“You sure?”
“Yes.” I breathed heavily.
“Harder?”
“Um … sure.”
That was fine. How kind of him to make sure I was enjoying it. Right? But as the years progressed, it felt like he lost his confidence, and I had no idea why. After all, I was the one with a little extra around the waist from having four children. I was the one with stretch marks. I was the one with boobs that looked and felt like two punctured balloons sagging to the sides when I was on my back.
“Do you want me to touch your clit?”
“Okay.”
I can’t tell you how many times he rubbed just to the right or left of it, missing it altogether. And he knew … when we first started having sex, he knew where it was. It hadn’t relocated.
“How’s that?”
“Fine.”
I never had the nerve to tell him he wasn’t rubbing my clit.
“You like that?”
“Sure.”
“Do you want to come?”
“That would be nice, but it’s not looking likely.” “Uh-huh.”
He’d pick up his pace, which was good, and the sexiest thing he could have done at that point would have been to shut up.
Nope.
He needed more validation.
“How am I doing?”
“Good.”
Fine. Sure. Good.
Not exactly the best sex life. Over and over again, I tried to pinpoint the time in our marriage when he went from the man I wanted to jump the second he walked through the door to the man I avoided until I felt guilty for making up reasons to not have sex. I’d get myself psyched up to just “get it done,” knowing it would buy me a good week of him not propositioning me.
What kind of life was that?
I didn’t confirm anything Bella said about Craig nor did I deny it. She’d heard too much that morning we fought for the last time. “I’m going to clear the driveway.”
“You sure you don’t want me to help shovel?”
Rinsing out my cup, I shook my head. “I’ve got it. It’s a snowblower. Not an army tank. How hard could it be?”
Come to find out …
Pretty fucking hard.
It wasn’t an electric start snowblower; it was a pull start. The worst thing imaginable for someone with no upper body strength.
I adjusted the choke and pulled the cord. It caught on me. I never understood how men made pull starts look so smooth and easy.
The second time I pulled it, it caught again.
“Come on!” In that moment, I started thinking the lack of finding my clit didn’t matter. Craig could pull start anything.
“Ouch!” I grabbed my shoulder after the third attempt, feeling certain I’d torn a ligament or dislocated it. In that moment, I made a mental note to encourage Bella to be strong.
Not emotionally strong—that was fine too. But emotional strength wasn’t going to pull start anything. She needed upper body strength to pull start snowblowers and open stubborn jar lids.
“We’re shoveling. Aren’t we?”
I glanced up at Bella in her long coat, hat, and gloves.
“It’s looking that way.” I frowned, rubbing my shoulder.
Shoveling put me fifteen minutes late to the store, but no one was waiting at the door, so I was fine. At first I assumed the lack of a Saturday morning crowd during the holiday season was a symptom of the big snow.
But … What Did You Expect? had people piling into their store.
There were actually two people shivering by my front door, Kandi and Tiffany. I asked them both to work since weekends during the holiday season were insanely busy.
Were being the keyword.
“Hey, girls! Sorry I’m late.” I unlocked the door. “I didn’t know so much snow was forecasted.”
Tiffany laughed as the three of us skittered into the store to get out of the cold. “You should get a snowblower.”
“Yes. Great idea. Can I give you two young girls some advice?”
“What’s that?” Kandi asked, turning on the display lights while I unlocked the register.
“Focus on strengthening your upper body. Pull-ups, pushups, curls … whatever. Just don’t become so obsessed with your legs, butt, and thighs that you set yourself up to be completely helpless someday if you’re ever widowed.”
“O-kay …” Tiffany lifted her eyebrows while turning on the Open sign.
“Where’s this from?” I picked up a hot drink cup; both girls had carried one into the shop when I unlocked it. I sniffed the steam coming from the opening in the lid.
“Oh, it’s from What Did You Expect?” Kandi took a sip of hers as I returned Tiffany’s cup to the counter. “Free organic hot chocolate until noon today in celebration of the first snow. So when you weren’t on time, Tiff ran over and got us hot chocolates.”
“I also picked up several bottles of vinegar. I’m so addicted to it. I use it for a fat free salad dressing.”