Page 4 of A Constant Christmas
I wrap myself in the towel and go over to the mirror to apply my nightly moisturizer. The woman looking back at me is someone I barely recognize.
My once long dark blonde hair that hung almost to my ass is now cut to just below my shoulders so that I don’t have to put as much effort into it.
My once skinny physique has been replaced with one that holds a little more meat around the middle and a bit more junk in the trunk.
And my face? My face looks exhausted.
Everyone tells me that I am going to miss this. I will miss the baby noises and the requests to read one more story. I will miss kissing their boo-boos and listening to them light up the house with imagination.
I’m sure one day I will miss all of it. But for now, it seems like I don’t truly have the time to appreciate any of it. Half of the time, I just wander around in a fog.
Something is missing. It’s like I’ve lost a part of me that I desperately need to get back. But how do I do that? I have no idea.
I miss my job as an architect, but adding even more to my already full plate doesn’t sound like a solution.
Maybe I just need my husband to come up here, so that we can rattle these walls like we used to. An orgasm sounds magical. And let me tell you he is the king of giving me orgasms…at least he used to be. Through no fault of his, I usually am trying to just have a quickie before we fall into bed, and I’m way too tired to concentrate enough to have an orgasm. Maybe I’ve faked it a time or two. Who hasn’t?
Geez. Sam from seven years ago would have scoffed at the idea of a faked orgasm. She would have laughed thinking that not everything in the world revolved around her and her man’s sex life. He and I would go for marathon sessions where he would bang my brains out so hard I forgot my own name.
I clench my thighs together at the thought and consider texting him to come upstairs. But ultimately, my exhaustion wins out, and I don’t.
My phone does begin to ring though. When looking at it, I see it’s Tess.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Sam Sam, what are you doing?”
“What did I tell you about the whole Sam Sam nickname?”
She sighs. “Never to call you it again.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You listen so well. What’s up?”
“Not much. I have the day off work tomorrow and just wanted to see if you were free for lunch.”
I sit silently for a moment trying to come up with an excuse so that I don’t have to put real pants on all day, but my mind is a blank.
She knows I am stalling and says, “Come on, have lunch with me. If it will make you feel better, I will bring lunch to you, so you don’t even have to leave the house with the kids.”
Going against Tess is a losing battle every time, so I reluctantly agree. “Sure, lunch sounds great.”
We make a plan for a time and say our goodbyes.
When I hang up, I keep my phone in my hand and open up my reading app. It will be a great night to get started on one of the hundreds of books in my To Be Read folder. I find a good one about a popular hockey player and a nerd who find true love, but before I am even past the first chapter, I am fast asleep.
Chapter Four
Sam
“So, how’s life?” Tess asks, sitting across from me. We are sitting outside eating the amazing burgers she brought for lunch.
“It’s great,” I say with as much conviction as I can manage.
“You know, you are so full of shit,” she says before shoving a fry in her mouth.
“I am not! Life is good. I mean I have a great husband, healthy kids, a nice house. What else can I ask for?” As I say the words, I don’t know who I am trying to convince more…her or myself.
“Sam, enough with the Stepford act. It’s me you’re talking to, and I can tell something is up. So, why don’t we cut the crap, and you tell me what’s bugging you?”