set up our music; he picked the ‘Simply Red’ CD. The music was perfect. He was ever the gentleman, pulled my chair out and we took our places at the table. We just sat for a minute, getting our bearings. I figured out how we might be able to eat and remain connected.
“Michael, I’d like to try something,” I said.
“Do you think that we could sit on the same side of the table and have our shoulders touching? We would keep our connection and maybe eat with more comfort.”
He agreed to try. We took up positions on the same side of the table facing the balcony. There was definitely concern about a possible disconnect. For added protection and to address that worry, we pushed our chairs firmly together. Our shoulders and arms pressed tightly together before we searched for the ‘go ahead’ in each other’s eyes and unhooked our pinkies. The nervous fear made us laugh but the connection didn’t waver. There came that duo of sighs, deep and content. We smiled at each other, an acceptance smile and turned to our food.
Michael wasn’t kidding when he said it would be a repeat of the night before. Exactly the same food and the same setting, only the conversation would be different.
“Michael, I’m glad you like lobster; I won’t have it again until I take my next cruise. So this is a double treat for me.”
“When’s your next cruise?” Michael asked with a touch of panic in his voice, maybe at the thought of me being unavailable.
“My sister and I try to take a cruise every other year,” I said.
“It takes a year plus to build up the funds for a trip.” I understood his concern for the future - on my mind as well.
“We didn’t talk much last night but maybe we should make an effort to talk. Maybe we can figure out about our connection.”
My voice was nonchalant as I masked the trepidation I felt even mentioning it.
“How about we just eat first,” he suggested.
That gave us both a bit of comfort – put the discussion off for another half hour or so.
Our makeshift connection was working on a basic level. We ate quickly and without much conversation. When Michael started on his second lobster, his frustration boiled over and he slipped his right arm around my left arm – like our hooked pinkies only we had hooked arms. It was a small thing but the affect was immediate and comforting. Again with the duo sighs and matched breathing.
We looked at each other in recognition of the improvement. “Good thinking,” I said, kissing his neck in my mind. At that instant, he glanced at me. God, I thought, can he read my mind? Did he hear my thoughts? I felt the heat from my blush. Could he feel it in the warmth of my body next to him?
“When I’m connected to you, I see no reason to change anything because everything feels right. As a matter of fact, even talking about it feels wrong to me.” He said.
“Even though I know we gotta figure it out.”
I reached for my jello, anticipated the smooth, cool fruity taste and the satisfaction that came with it. At first I didn’t notice, but Michael’s movement caught the corner of my eye. It registered in my slow brain that his actions mirrored my own – no, they were simultaneous with mine. Michael didn’t notice the unison until he ate the jello. Our arms moved in perfect harmony. One bite, taste, swallow, 2nd bite, taste, swallow, 3rd bite, taste, swallow. He stared at me for a moment.
“Helen,” he said my name like it was a possession.
“Have you felt the progression of this situation? Whatever this connection means, you know it’s stronger and more intense with every passing minute.”
“Yes, I’m with you.” My voice was low, timid.
For the entirety of the rest of the CD we didn’t speak. I was trying to piece ideas and events together in some fashion that could help us make sense of it and I could only guess that Michael was doing the same.
In a position where he could change the music, Michael replaced the “Simply Red” album with the Steve Miller Band – just like the night before.
Turning to face me, awkward with the way our arms were intertwined, he unhooked our connected arms and took both of my hands in his – no interruption with our connection. He pulled me to my feet.
“Let’s dance.”
We danced around the balcony locked in a tight dance embrace. It was heady. I felt like I was floating. Our breathing, a bit faster, still matched. I moved ever closer, found a tighter fit. I brought our hands into a tight fist close to our clinging bodies – more – I reached my hands up and around his neck. Without hesitation he put both of his arms around me and pressed us together with a force that surprised and tickled me.
Our sighs came with relief and satisfaction. The balance was back. At first we took advantage of how good it felt to be so close and barely moved to the music. I think Michael had an “ah ha” moment
“I see a pattern – I don’t want to look at it but I feel it and I know you do too.”
He waited for my reaction and what he saw was confusion. I didn’t really understand what he was saying.
“It’s all building to something.” He clarified.
I looked at him and wanted to be supportive but I was still confused; so, he continued.
“I’ve noticed that each time we disconnect, the results are more intense and more immediate.”
Again he looked down at me to get my nod of understanding.
“To reach the same level of calm, we need a closer connection. When we are together like this, the satisfaction nearly makes me giddy.”
He said his next words measured out – a slow question – more to himself than out loud.
“How much closer can we get?”
I didn’t answer. I just laid my head on his chest and shoulder. We sighed. I just wanted to dance like that forever – to feel that good forever. Dance we did and when the tune finished, we waited for the next song by snuggling our bodies together in an effort to gain even more purchase, to strengthen our pact.
When the CD ended, Michael took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes.
“This is heading towards us being one.”
He hesitated for a second and then forged forward.
“I might need to get inside of you.”
He was serious. At any other time in my life I would have started laughing right then and there, but his logic seemed right to me.
In that ‘twilight zone’ his words thrilled me beyond reason and at the same time brought me a new fear – the fear that I might have to break my marriage vows. But could I do that?
My mind went there, and I reasoned: If it’s so good in his arms…and it was so good in his arms, how much better to make the complete connection – oh my God, what would that be like? My head burned with the thought of it.
