Free Grand Avenue by Joy Fielding Page B

telling them, was her business. They had to be patient, understanding, and above all quiet. Or they risked losing her altogether.
    Susan flipped onto her back, tried to determine the precise moment Chris had begun her withdrawal. Had there been one defining moment, or had the changes in Chris’s relationship with the others changed gradually over time? Had their friendship soured as slowly and imperceptibly as a long-standing marriage in the final stages of decay?
    Was that the problem? Susan wondered, rolling onto her other side. Were there cracks in Chris and Tony’s marriage? Chris had denied it, but if Tony was seriously considering starting his own agency, that would be very expensive, and money was obviously tight. A third baby …
    He keeps track of her periods! Susan thought, kicking the blanket from around her feet.
    “Susan,” Owen was saying, “what’s wrong?”
    “Wrong?” Susan returned to her back, saw Owen’s concerned face looming above hers.
    “You haven’t stopped twitching since I got back into bed.”
    “I’m sorry.” Susan recalled the fear in Chris’s eyes when she confided she might be pregnant. What exactly was she so afraid of?
He keeps track of her periods!
Susan thought again. “I just can’t seem to get comfortable,” she said.
    “Still worrying about Chris?”
    “No.” After a pause, Susan admitted, “Well, trying not to.” What was the point in pretending otherwise? She’d never been able to fool Owen. Never really wanted to, she realized, thinking again how lucky she was.
    “Luck is only part of the equation,” her mother had once said. “You’ve worked very hard for what you have. And you had the good sense to choose well.”
    In the end, her mother had told her, we are the choices we make.
    “I love you,” Susan told her husband again, wondering if she said it often enough. She lifted her head toward his, kissed him on the lips.
    “I love you too,” he said, responding with surprising eagerness to her kiss, their sudden desire catching them both off guard, but building quickly, so that what began as an innocent expression of gratitude soon became something quite different. Susan felt her body stir in response to her husband’s gentle touch, her senses, only moments ago on the verge of total collapse, suddenly heightened and wide-awake, anticipating each new caress.
    “Are you ready?” he asked some moments later, and Susan nodded, wrapping her legs around his waist as heentered her. Their bodies rocked together quietly, harmoniously, until Owen asked again, “Are you ready?” and again, Susan nodded, and Owen raised himself onto his knees, thrusting deeper inside her until her head was buzzing, her body tingling, her entire being vibrating. They never tell you about this part in health class, she thought, everything inside her poised to explode. They use cold, clinical words like
climax
, which works better as a literary device, or
orgasm
, which sounds as if it’s something that should be confined to a laboratory, but they never get close to what actually happens when two people make love: the pure and utter joy of total surrender.
    “Who has multiple orgasms?” Susan remembered Vicki demanding on that Super Bowl Sunday some eight months ago.
    “I’ve never had an orgasm,” Chris had admitted, and Barbara had confessed to always faking hers. Even Vicki had confided she didn’t experience orgasm through intercourse. When pressed, Susan had declined comment and left the room. Better to appear shy than smug, she’d decided, choosing not to tell the others she experienced orgasm on an alarmingly regular basis. Sometimes all Owen had to do was touch her in a certain spot on the side of her neck …
    Maybe I’m just easier to please, Susan thought now, although she’d never considered herself particularly sexual. Certainly, she didn’t see herself as sexy. Attractive enough, yes, especially if she were to lose a few pounds, but nowhere near as pretty