Grace made it home at half past eleven. She took a shower and applied the eau de cologne Jackie had given her. Immediately afterward, she donned her bathrobe, took her clothes down to the laundry room, put them into the hamper and give them a generous blast with heather-scented deodorizer.
Grace went back upstairs to the bathroom and looked at her eyes in the mirror. They weren’t as red as they had been earlier that evening, but she did not want to take any chances. She took some eyedrops from the medicine cabinet and applied them.
Ha ha ha. Catch me if you can, David.
She went into the bedroom. David was already in his pajamas and under the covers, reading a news magazine. Grace took her bathrobe off, hung it on the hook on the inside of the closet door, put on a pink nightgown and joined him.
David sniffed and looked over at Grace, smiling. “You smell fabulous,” he said. “What are you wearing?”
“Jackie lent me some of her cologne,” said Grace.
David leaned in for more of a whiff. “Mmmmm, I love it,” he said. “She has good taste, I will say that.”
“Yeah,” said Grace, bristling a little. She knew that no amount of fawning on his part meant that he would truly come to respect her friends.
David chucked his magazine aside and put an arm around Grace. He began kissing her cheek, stroking her arm and shoulder and groping her breast.
“David, what?” said Grace.
“I love you,” said David.
“I love you, too.”
Grace forced a small smile. She was still upset by the comments he had made about her friends and knew that at best, sex would only provide feeble consolation. But she could not say so to his face.
“I need you,” said David.
“What is it?” said Grace.
“I want to make love to you.”
“David, I’m tired,” said Grace with a sigh.
“I know, but…” whined David with a sigh, “you don’t think that we could…”
Grace groaned. “Mmmmm… I want my beauty sleep, David,” she said, yawning. “Really.”
“Please… I must have your sweet, sweet loving, you sexy… woman,” said David, putting his arm around her. “Besides, you smell so wonderful it’s driving me up the wall.”
With a quiet snicker, Grace shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother,” she said. “You are just so needy sometimes.”
“What?” said David, stroking her bicep. “Grace, I’m human. People need.”
“I want to go to sleep, David.”
“When do you go to work tomorrow?”
“Eleven.”
“And you don’t think we could make a little love tonight? We are after all, married. You know, husband and wife. It’s not like I plan to rail you until I’m coming air at dawn.”
“God, David.”
“Pretty please?”
Grace rolled her eyes and smiled with a little derision. Even though David could be relentless and crass when he was in the mood and she wasn’t, she did find it somewhat seductive when he begged. “Oh, all right, if you’ll stop sniveling,” she said.
David fetched a condom and put it on. He gave Grace a long kiss, lifted up her nightgown and entered her. He stroked her thighs and eased her legs up, coaxing them around his waist, kissing her every now and again on cheek and lip.
He finished in a little over three minutes. He rolled off of her, removed the condom and tossed it into the wastebasket. He curled up next to her as she pulled her nightgown back down around her.
Grace lay there and sighed with thorough disillusionment, believing that her husband did not care enough to give her true satisfaction. Just for show, she ran her fingers through his chestnut colored hair and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“I love you, Grace,” said David. He gave her a kiss and drifted off to sleep.
“I love you, too,” said Grace. She sighed, only happy that David had finally shut up. She took a couple deep breaths, blinked a few times and nodded off.
*****
Grace awoke at seven to find herself shackled to the bed by her arms and legs, a ball gag in her mouth. David walked into the room wearing only a leather mask. She opened her eyes wide with fear, seeing that David’s advances were nowhere near as loving or as puppy-like as they had been in the past. He put one knee on the bed and then the other, straddling her as his blue eyes twinkled with pure evil. He leaned forward and grabbed her by the left wrist. Just before he thrust himself into her, she pulled her right hand free of its shackle and punched him in the face. David drew back and grabbed his cheek, wincing.
The impact of the blow woke Grace up to find David sitting at the foot of her side of the bed, rubbing his face. It had all been a dream. “David, are you all right?” said Grace, her eyes opening wide with worry.
“You have one hell of a right hook on you,” he said, looking at his hand to see if there was any blood. To his relief, there was none.
“Oh, my God,” said Grace, putting her arms around her husband. “It was an accident, I swear…”
“No,” said David, putting his hand up as Grace gave him a gentle kiss on his bruised cheek. “I understand,” he said.
“I had a bad dream,” she said.
“I figured,” said David. He had seen her shaking and thrashing in her sleep, tried to calm her and suffered the consequences. He laughed quietly. “You play a little rough sometimes, you know that?”
“I’m sorry, David.”
“No, it’s O.K,” said David. “Actually…” He pulled her closer to him. “It’s kind of sexy…” he said as he began to kiss her neck.
“You know, you men get turned on by the damnedest things,” said Grace, chuckling as she froze for a moment. She was not in the mood, but she knew that David would not be dissuaded. His sore lack of skill between the sheets had caused her to dread sex with him more and more over the years, but she knew that if she resisted, he would claim that he owed her a f***. She knew the only alternative was to fight, so she decided to choose frustration over anger and tears, especially since she had to be at the bookstore for work at eleven.
“Well, what man doesn’t love it when his wife gets a little feisty?” said David as he fetched a condom.
Grace shook her head and laughed quietly.
“Come here, my sweet battle-ax,” said David as he gave her a long and passionate kiss. He slid her nightgown off, entered her, climaxed after a few very short minutes and rolled off. He gave Grace a kiss on the cheek. “You really are the only one for me Grace,” he said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” said Grace. She kissed him on the cheek. God, that was really lame. As usual. She stood up, donned her bathrobe and headed for the shower.
Grace turned the water on and stood under the shower head, lathering herself, frustrated that David had failed to satisfy her yet again. She stepped out of the shower and turned on the radio atop the medicine cabinet. She tuned it to a rock station and turned the music up enough to keep David from hearing her.
She took a washcloth, wet it, held it between her teeth and bit down. She placed her foot up on the edge of the tub and massaged her labia and clitoris, biting down harder on the washcloth as she neared orgasm. When she finally climaxed, the intensity of her pleasure made her slip and fall on her backside, hitting the back of her head on the tile wall.
David knocked on the door. “Are you O.K., Grace?” he said.
“I’m fine, David,” she said, taking the washcloth out of her mouth and rubbing her head. “I just slipped and fell. Don’t worry, I didn’t break anything.”
“All right, then.”
Grace exhaled, glad that David was none the wiser. She knew that if he found out what she was up to, he would pick a fight with her because he felt inadequate. I wish you could knock me on my ass like that, David.
*****
When Grace finished her first fifteen-minute break from work, she took one last drag from her cigarette, flicked it away and walked back into the bookstore. As she strolled through the café, she noticed a flier taped up on the wall to her left with a picture of a toothless, decrepit, gray old man firing a .44 magnum revolver into a clock as it stabbed him through the heart with its minute hand. With a smile, she paused for a moment to savor the disturbing image. Underneath the picture, there was a small caption that read, “Man vs. Time I” and an announcement that Anthony Parris would be showing his paintings at the John Slade Ely House. The opening reception was scheduled for May 27 at seven o’clock. She took a piece of register tape and copied the information, then joined Roberta behind the bookstore counter.
“What’s up?” asked Roberta.
“There’s this art show over at the John Slade Ely House,” said Grace, reading the note she had taken. “May 27 at seven.”
“Oh! You’re talking about that notice that has the picture of the old guy and the clock, like, murdering each other?”
“Yeah.”
“Good stuff, that. I was actually planning on going, but it just so transpires that The Damaged Toys have that weekend booked, and I gotta work the merch table.”
“Where are they playing?” said Grace.
“Well, they are in Hoboken on the 26th of May,” said Roberta, “then in Newark on the 27th, and then they’re playing CBGB’s on the 28th.”
“The CBGB’s?” said Grace with a wide-eyed grin. “Way to go.”
“Yeah,” said Roberta, smiling. “I’m excited.”
“You’re such a lucky girl,” said Grace as her smile began to go limp. Although she had no intention of stealing Tommy away from Roberta, she wished deep in her heart that she had the kind of romantic life that her friend had.
“Yeah,” said Roberta, a gentle glow burning in her eyes. “It’s nice when a good looking guy, tough, but sweet and sensitive writes songs about you, takes you on the road and treats you like a queen. And you know, Aquarius that I am, all full of nervous energy, it’s a release that I need, seeing a band perform. Especially when Tommy is center stage, just giving it all he’s got.”
“Yeah, Tommy is a cool guy,” said Grace. “But does it ever get… difficult for you?” As soon as Grace asked that question, she sighed as her happiness about her marriage began to erode a little more as her envy of Roberta’s love life grew.
“Oh,” said Roberta, “you learn to be patient with all kinds of headaches. Promoters playing bait and switch with the money, bass player getting arrested for getting the better of some guy in a bar fight, van’s broken down, bad acoustics at the venue, promoter doesn’t let ‘em have a soundcheck, someone’s gear needs fixing, psycho girls trying to pick a fight with you ’cause you’re the singer’s girlfriend, stuff like that. But I’m proud of Tommy, and I’ll always be right there behind him, no matter what.”
Roberta sighed with a soft smile, knowing she would always love Tommy. He was beautiful, poetic, talented and witty. But most important of all, he was always faithful to her, even when his band’s tour schedule put a distance between them.
“You sound like a soccer mom,” said Grace.
“I suppose so,” said Roberta. “But I don’t mind.”
“You must really love him,” said Grace, wanting to cry. Even though Grace had been married for six years, seeing any happy couple – especially Roberta and Tommy – made her feel all the more lonesome.
“Mmm-hm,” said Roberta, stifling a giggle as a goofy, naughty smile stretched across her face.
“Oh, now you’re just gonna make me throw up,” said Grace, smirking.
“Oh, shut up, Grace. You were making me sick yesterday with all the coffee you were drinking. Don’t even start.”
“Only kidding,” said Grace, chuckling and giving her friend a playful cuff on the shoulder. “Come to think of it, you remind me of myself when I first met David. He played guitar in a bar band for extra money.”
Grace smiled, longing for the days when she would accompany David to his gigs with the Dive Bar Divers. Although she thought that their repertoire was, by and large, quite awful – either they did tenth rate versions of songs she loved or first rate versions of songs she hated – she did not care. In those days, she was in love.
“Why did he stop?” asked Roberta, even though she was convinced it was because David was an untalented hack with no imagination.
“Oh,” said Grace, deflating. “He… felt that after a while, it was time to ‘put away the play’ and get a real job.”
Even though David’s success kept them from starving, Grace harbored a secret hatred towards him for giving up something he apparently loved doing so much. To her, that was treason and his belief that society’s general consensus held that it was “impractical” was no excuse. Of course, she was just as guilty as he – it had been years since she had written a single poem.
“And what the hell is wrong with being a professional musician, may I ask?” said Roberta, raising an eyebrow.
“You know,” said Grace with a sigh, “you’d have to ask him. I don’t see anything wrong with it, myself. I mean, it was kind of cool, seeing him up on that stage, rocking out. He could have kept it going. I mean, hell, I’d have believed in him no matter what.”
“I have a question,” said Roberta.
“Go for it,” said Grace.
“Don’t take this wrong, Grace. I mean, we’ve all been guilty of this from time to time, I’m sure. When he’s doing well, doesn’t he ever let it go to his head?”
“Well, I admit that he can be really arrogant,” said Grace. “I mean, I love him, but I gotta have things my way sometimes, and although he might disagree with me on this one, I don’t generally feel as though I ask too much.”
Grace smiled. Even though she and David had had their spats over the years, she was proud that they could keep things smooth between them, even if it always fell to her to make sure David’s gargantuan ego stood at bay.
“Sounds like for you, it’s always a battle,” said Roberta.
“Sometimes it is,” said Grace. “Roberta, being married is hard work. One of the hardest things, I think, is being around that same person all the time. Familiarity breeds contempt.”
“Oh, not always, Gracie Jane,” said Roberta. She had only been with Tommy for two and a half years, but the more she learned about him, the more she loved him.
“True, not always,” said Grace, “but every so often. Sometimes, there can be some tense moments, and learning how to handle them is important. Tell me you don’t ever get cross with Tommy.”
“Oh, sure, from time to time,” said Roberta. “He can be really black and white about a lot of things, plus he is incredibly stubborn, a little vain sometimes, has a bit of a tyrannical streak. Classic Leo, you know? But just because we occasionally piss each other off, it don’t mean we’ll ever call it off. Incidentally, what do you love about David?”
“I feel safe,” said Grace. “It seems as if he can take care of anything that needs to be taken care of, he’s intelligent, confident, resourceful, good with money.” Grace smiled, grateful to realize that some things indeed made her marriage worthwile. “Plus, he’s loyal and devoted,” she said.
“So in other words, he takes good care of you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you know he isn’t trying to control you?”
Grace bit her lip, stammered and released a slow, quiet irritated breath through her nose. “What makes you say that, Roberta?” she asked.
“For one thing,” said Roberta, “he always gives you grief about hanging out with me. Thinks you’ll get demonically possessed or whatever.”
“Well, I know how to get my way,” said Grace. “The scary thing is, I’ve found that the most effective method is to be perfectly reasonable and relaxed when he gets into his little moods. If I just stay calm, he doesn’t stand a chance.” Grace smiled. “In fact, it’s actually pretty funny when he’s flying off the handle and I’m just being completely placid, and the calmer I get…”
“…the more wound up he gets and so on…” said Roberta, giggling a little.
“Exactly,” said Grace. She had a laugh herself, reassured to know that her husband could never dominate her if he tried.
“It must get so draining, though, don’t you think?”
“It can, but when you’re married, you have to take the smooth with the rough. Besides, it could be worse. He doesn’t drink too much, he’s not abusing drugs, he’s not a compulsive gambler, he’s never cheated on me, he’s not violent…” Grace took a philosophical deep breath.
“But you don’t think he ever… resents you?”
“Never for long.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, Roberta, I think he would have said something by now.”
Grace did not know that her husband indeed resent her for her strong-willed ways just as much as she resented him for his arrogance. Of course, like her, he kept it to himself only when they were in each other’s company.
“Maybe,” said Roberta, yawning and sighing. “Who knows? Oh! By the by, what are you doing after work, Gracie Jane?”
“I don’t know yet. What’s up?”
“Jackie’s friend Roxanne is coming to Rudy’s to shoot some pool with us. We could use a fourth person. It would make playing doubles a little easier.”
“Tempting,” said Grace smiling at the thought of an opportunity to deliver a powerful blow to the boredom that had been entrapping her. “Hmmm,” she said. “Well, I don’t work tomorrow…”
“Roxanne lives in Stamford. She can give you a ride.”
“Well, I’m not sure I want to be out too too late,” said Grace. “Oh, that reminds me.” She ducked under the counter and produced a copy of The Pocket-Sized Guide to Amazing Sex. “Do you think you can ring me out for this?” she said, handing the book to Roberta.
“I’m blind,” said Roberta, shuddering and dropping the book on the counter.
“Oh, hush,” said Grace.