Free Is This What I Want? by Patricia Mann

dinner. I knew she was having trouble with her boyfriend. I think he was cheating and she was determined to get back at him. And you were…” I didn’t want to say it.
    I saw sympathy in her eyes and felt some relief. She opened her mouth to speak and I hoped her words would match her expression.
    “I was consumed with Sam every waking moment. He was sleeping in our bed, nursing around the clock, crying nonstop. I was exhausted and cranky. I know how I was, I do.”
    “He was such a difficult baby and you took the brunt of it. I should have tried to help more.” I didn’t want her to think it was her fault.
    “So anyway, I went to the bathroom, and on my way back, she grabbed me and pulled me into the supply room. She was sloppy drunk. I was pretty bad too. She yanked at my belt buckle and my pants were at my ankles before what was happening really sunk in.”
    “So she gave you a blow job?”
    I nodded.
    “Was it good?”
    “Come on, Beth.”
    She crossed her arms again.
    “Yours are way better.” It was true.
    That response was met with a big smile.
    “So, is that all that happened?”
    I shook my head.
    “I felt like I had to, you know, do something for her, after.”
    I got the feeling that she had to know exactly what happened, and at the same time, she didn’t really want to hear all of it. I wondered if we could just end it there, but I saw that her mind was racing as she tried to figure out her next question.
    “Hands or mouth?”
    I bit my lip and looked down. No words were needed.
    I figured that was the last of her questions, but I was wrong.
    “Did you kiss her?”
    “No. No, I didn’t. I never kissed her,” I said with pride, realizing how much that would mean to Beth. She squeezed my hand.
    “Okay,” she said firmly, suddenly sounding like a lawyer who had just reached a settlement and was about to sum up the terms.
    “Okay?” I asked, knowing I had no choice but to follow her lead. Would we need to rehash this in sessions with Carly? Would I be sleeping on the couch for a month? Was there any chance we’d still be having sex tonight?
    She smiled again, another real, full smile.
    “I forgive you. I was a mess back then. And she took advantage of you. I’m glad you told me.” Her face clouded slightly. “I just wish you’d told me sooner, maybe with Carly’s help, instead of letting me be the bad one all this time. Maybe it’s wrong for me to feel this way, but it helps with my guilt about what I did. So now we know our marriage isn’t perfect. Whose is?”
    I kissed her forehead, feeling more in love with her than ever. She kissed my lips and then nibbled my earlobe, which she knows gets me going quickly.
    That was all I could take. I tried to be gentle, but she didn’t seem to want that. The knowledge that I had been with another woman, even a long time ago, brought out the animal in her. I didn’t sleep on the couch that night. In fact, we didn’t sleep much at all, waking twice during the night and one final time just before sunrise to prove that we did, in fact, belong only to one another.

C HAPTER 7:
A M OTHER -D AUGHTER D ANCE
    HORRIFIED BY THE PUFFY face staring back at me in the rearview mirror, I watched as two new streams of mascara laced tears slid down my cheeks. I considered canceling on my mother. I was already ten minutes late for our lunch at California Pizza Kitchen because I couldn’t stop crying. But she hadn’t even called to check on me yet, so I made another attempt to pull myself together and clean up my face with wet wipes and tissues.
    Walking through the door, I pretended not to notice the cheery greeting of the hostess as I headed straight for my mother, who was waving at me frantically from a table toward the back of the restaurant.
    “So, what happened?” she asked. “I thought you weren’t planning to have Jack start preschool until after he turned two.”
    I sucked in a long, choppy breath, telling myself I could not lose it in a public