But lately I’ve had an itch. And not only has Miles not been interested in scratching it, I’m not sure if he’s even aware there’s an issue.
I’m a high school principal. Each year a fresh round of teachers enter the fray. This year, one of the teachers–we’ll call him Chris–took interest in me right from the get go.
From a position of authority, you’re always wary when those you’re responsible for give you a bit more attention than the rest. You think they’re trying to curry favor.
That wasn’t the issue with Chris. He made it very clear from the beginning. He liked older women. He wanted me to be his lover.
He walked me out to my car an afternoon the week before school began. The conversation went something along these lines:
“I see you don’t wear a wedding ring, Virginia.”
“I’m married. My husband is Miles.”
“What does Miles do?”
“He’s a general contractor.”
“I see. Are you happily married, Virginia?”
I paused. A bit too long in my opinion. “I believe so. Why do you ask?”
“I enjoy the company of older, attractive women, Virginia.”
I know I blushed at that. “There are about a thousand reasons why pursuing some type of amorous relationship with your co-worker is a terribly bad idea, Chris.”
“Some rewards are worth the risk.”
The fifty-something clouds of doubt made me ask the question. “What do you see in me, Chris?”
He smiled, detecting a crack in the door to get in. “I see a strikingly beautiful woman. Hourglass figure. Luxurious breasts. A light, can-do attitude covering a hard-edged ability to get shit done that nobody else wants to tackle. So, to round it all up, I see kindness, wrapped in resolve, packaged in a very sexy body.”
I looked him in the eye, searching for lies. He didn’t release my stare. It had been years since someone had spoken to me with such obvious interest.
“Let’s just keep our relationship professional, Chris. We’ve got a school year to get through, a job to do, children to positively influence. Can you partner to do that with me?”
He smiled, sensing a stalemate. “Absolutely, Virginia. Thank you for your time.”
Phew. His forwardness. His directness. His damn handsome twenty-seven-year-old, rugged good looks.
Usually, there is a podcast on the way home or NPR or a playlist. That afternoon I drove home in silence, considering what had just unfolded.
A suitor. A caller. An interested bystander. God, I didn’t even know what to call it anymore. Perhaps a simple request for a hookup?
Geez, what the hell was going on? Why this? Why now?
Miles was sitting at the kitchen table when I got home, scrolling through emails on his cell phone.
“Hi, honey,” I greeted him and kissed him on the top of his head.
“Hey babe,” he responded without looking up.
“How was your day?”
“The usual. Did a couple of site visits for a couple of remodeling jobs. Checked in on our new construction projects. Spent an hour down at City Hall glad handing and making sure permits were in place for the next thing. How about you?”
“One of our new teachers propositioned me out in the parking lot on our way out. He wants me to consider being his lover.”
“I see,” Miles replied. He pushed his chair back from the table, stretched his long legs out in front of him and cocked his head to the side. “Ginny, have you taken a lover before while we’ve been married?”
“No. But I’ve considered it recently.”
“I see. Why is that?”
“We’ve been on our own for going on four years, Miles. We’ve pretty much roommates only at this point.”
“Gin, you’re my best friend.”
“And you’re mine. But I’m not dead yet, Miles. I want to love and be loved.”
“OK. Where do you suggest we begin? Or where do you suggest we end?”
“I’m not sure,” I replied honestly…