“I hear your belly call for food; do you have a preference, or would you just like me to surprise you with some good grub?” I asked.
“Let’s fix it together, whatever it is, ok?” He didn’t want to be far from me.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Dinner came together with ease. We made a salad and a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches and ate at the breakfast bar over some easy conversation. Music accompanied our meal and dialogue.
After the food was consumed and we cleaned up the kitchen I caught Michael shaking his head and laughing at me but I hadn’t said anything funny.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, wanting to be in on the joke.
Without saying a word, Michael reached over to me and touched my right breast with the end of his pointer finger. I watched it happen but whatever he was pointing out was not registering in my brain and I stood there watching him in confusion. Seeing that I didn’t get it, he tried another move. That time he put the same pointer finger under one of my bra straps and snapped it against my skin; then he waited for me to catch on.
It took another minute but I did finally realize that I was still without my shirt. Awareness about things like that in regard to me had always been missing. I had to add to my routine the process of examining myself in the mirror before I left the house or there was no telling what I’d be putting out there for the world to see. For whatever reason, I never gave myself a thought.
“You know, Michael, when Henry and I were first married, I’d forget that I didn’t have clothes on. Henry would find me in the kitchen cooking his breakfast naked, sometimes I’d have an apron on but mostly I was just there without my clothes. The first time it turned him on but after that he got irritated with me. He wasn’t irritated that I was naked but he was irritated because I was unaware that I was naked. The day that I put ‘the mirror check’ in my routine Henry called me ‘stupid’ for being unaware.”
“Baby, I don’t think that man knew how to embrace the differences between you and the rest of the world. It’s obvious to me that he didn’t recognize your value. Nakedness is what being married is all about, physically and emotionally. Hellie, you allow others to see you for who you really are and don’t even make an attempt to hide because you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
While I set up the coffee maker to produce our morning coffee, Michael left the room but returned before the coffee chore was completed. He’d gone to my closet and brought me a little red cardigan sweater; held it for me to put my arms into and then he buttoned the two middle buttons.
Watching him fuss over me while wrapped in the protective cocoon of our reconnect I let the moment absorb into my being; I was sure there could be no greater comfort. To prove me wrong, Michael took me into a gentle embrace, placing his hands just under the cardigan; his fingertips caressed the skin on my lower back causing my knees to buckle.
‘Oh, Michael, baby,’ I thought, ‘Don’t you see how vulnerable I am?’ Even without the connect to draw us together; I was first a woman, only one half a complete whole and like all ‘one-halfs’, I needed the other for fulfillment. He could never be that other, but I did allow him to comfort me and remind me of my woman-ness.
Michael was giving into the pull of the reconnect like he said but I could only go so far. There was a line I knew I’d not allow to be breached. So, with that line as a default, the enjoyment of his attention was welcomed and encouraged.
Making sure that I didn’t fall, Michael held me close until I gained my purchase with the floor; he then walked me over to the CD player to select some music for background, I thought. Before I knew it we were dancing around my living room and into the dinning room and a couple times into the kitchen. We waited for more music and danced more. We danced into and around every room in the house and even out onto the back porch. Finally Michael danced me into my bedroom and, knowing my routine, left me at the bathroom door.
It took me some time before I found sleeping clothes, a faded pair of silk pajamas. It seemed odd that when I put them on I felt a bit of the reconnect but then the thought was gone.
Once complete with my evening maintenance and preparing for the next day as is my routine, I headed for the computer to check my web business and was delighted that there were nearly a hundred new orders. Instantly calculating how much time it would take to process that many orders, even with the new automation I’d developed, I knew it would take me away from Michael for at least a couple of hours. Also instantly, I made the decision to wait until Michael was asleep to go to the lab to do my part and get things ready for the UPS guy in the morning.
Waiting at the computer for Michael to come back, I answered my emails and when Michael still wasn’t back, I made my routine walk through the house checking the doors and windows and watching for anything out of place or any mess that needed attention. When I checked the windows in the guest room, I saw Michael asleep on the bed. Pulling the extra quilt over him to ward off the chill of me not being there, I went off to the lab to process the new orders.
The estimation of a couple of hours was right on. Exactly two hours later I was headed for the kitchen looking for something to drink before I went to sleep for the night. To my delight, Michael was standing in the light of the open door of the refrigerator. He turned before he actually saw me.
Before our bodies collided I asked if he was interested in a glass of sherry before bed. No words, just a nodded head and a smile. The reconnect was sweet and soft and so, so, so good. Michael carried me in that full-body reconnect to the cupboard for the sherry.
We carried the tray with the sherry to the bedroom and into the ‘Pinky bank’ where we packed a bowl. Michael handed me the pipe and I took the premium hit to start the ritual. After we picked up our sherry glasses and, yes, Michael made a toast.
“To you, Helen, to honoring our connection, to answering the question of what the connect wants from us and for us, to always remembering what we have because we can’t lose it.”
Ending the toast, I quietly closed with “Cheers, thanks a lot, eh?”
For the next 20 or 30 minutes, we sipped on the sherry and reconnected across the small room via our eyes. Living and breathing was so easy with him so close to me. My lungs expanded with greater elasticity and my skin, too, responded to the freedom. The sighs of satisfaction from the two of us filled the ‘Pinky bank’ with an invisible fog like softness. Soon I was yawning and needing to sleep.
Even though I couldn’t say with complete certainty how I ended up in bed, there I was and Michael was spooning in behind me. An involuntary sob escaped my lips and I felt Michael pull me to him; he whispered in my ear.
“Do you want me to go?”
The sob jumped out again.
“No, please, I was afraid you’d go back to the guest room. Please, please Michael, stay with me.”
Yeah, I guess I made myself pretty clear with that begging.
His voice was low and sexy.
“Don’t worry Baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
With the sound of Michael’s voice in my ear and his arms around me, I fell asleep bathed in the warmth of our connection.
‘I got up, like every morning, to grayness, to nothingness, but that morning I was particularly sad as the night had given me a dream that was so real that one could only surmise that the gods were cruel indeed. Cruel beyond even my own strength and I was finally willing to give in and die of the terrible need. I began to purge myself of all the unshed tears, trying hard to empty myself of the anguish I felt.’
“I’m right here. Baby, I’m right here. Helen baby, it’s ok. I’m right here.”
Behind my tears and cries I heard Michael’s voice and then decided to go back to sleep and have more of my