lovely lady,” Brian said, crossing the kitchen and wrapping one bearlike arm around Jessica’s waist, “I like your new name and your new attitude. Will you dance with me?” He swept her into his arms and they twirled around the kitchen.
“You know, Brian,” Jessica said, laughing, “I never knew you were such a good dancer.”
Brian pivoted, raised his arm, and let Jessica twirl underneath it. “You never gave me a chance.” They danced into the living room and, gazing into her eyes, he bent her over his arm in a deep dip.
“You’re flirting with me,” she said, moving from his embrace.
“And why not?”
“Your wife, my best friend, is in the kitchen. Remember her?”
“Of course. But I know she told you about our unusual relationship and I’ve wanted to hold you for a very long time.” As he watched the confusion flash over Jessica’s face, Brian said, “Haven’t you ever thought about how it might feel to be in my arms?”
At that moment, the doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of the first guests. “Saved by the bell,” Jessica said.
“One last thing. I would never make you uncomfortable, JJ, I mean Jessica. You know that. I’ll back off any time you say. But you’re sexy and attractive and I enjoy playing with you, wherever it leads.”
Jessica smiled as she heard Steph’s footsteps in the hallway. “I understand, but it does make me a little uncomfortable.” When Brian looked crestfallen, Jessica added, “But it’s a nice discomfort.”
As they separated, Brian ran his fingertip up Jessica’s spine, then walked toward the hallway to greet their guests.
As the first couple walked into the living room, followed almost immediately by two more, Jessica remembered Steph’s words. I challenge you to figure out which couple we’ve swapped with. As she was introduced to each, Jessica had to admit that she had no idea who Brian and Steph had slept with. All six people were delightful, bright, interesting, and interested.
Chuck O’Malley worked at the same brokerage firm as Brian and his wife Marcy was the vice president of an international bank. They had a married daughter who was expecting their first grandchild in two months. “Of course,” Marcy said as she settled in the living room, “I’m only going to be a grandmother because I had Betsy when I was six years old.”
“I know,” Chuck said, “and Betsy’s only nine now.”
“Right!” Marcy said, giggling. “That makes me….”
Chuck snatched the drink Brian offered before Marcy could take it. “That makes you only fifteen and too young to drink.”
Pete Cross worked at General Foods as a research chemist and his wife Gloria was deeply involved in local politics. They had five children, ranging in age from seven to eighteen, and regaled the group with tales of their adventures in parenthood.
Steve Albright was the biggest, blackest man Jessica had ever seen. At six foot six, with skin that was almost blue, he was an imposing figure. In contrast his wife Nan was five foot one with cafe au lait skin that was stretched to its limit by her eight and a half months of pregnancy. Steve was a junior partner in a prestigious Wall Street law firm and would be a full partner before he was thirty-five. “Our first,” Steve said, lovingly rubbing his wife’s belly.
“And, if this pregnancy is any indication,” Nan said, easing her body into a soft chair, “my last. I waddle like a duck, I sleep sitting up and I haven’t seen my feet in six weeks. I’ve finally had to stop working, too.” Jessica’s ears had perked up when she learned that Nan had worked for a local real estate agency and would go back to work part-time after the birth of the baby.
“I’ve been wondering,” Steve added, “why they call it morning sickness. Nan’s been nauseated since day one, all day.”
“I think they call it morning sickness because it starts in the morning,” Nan said, sipping the glass of club soda Steve handed her and nibbling on the saltine crackers she always kept at hand. “But only a couple of weeks to go. The doctor says that little Stevie’s right on schedule.”
“You know it’s a boy?” Jessica said, her envy obvious to Steph.
When Jessie and Rob had married, she had wanted several children. Over the months and years, Rob had talked her out of it. ‘We want so many things. Travel, freedom. Kids would just get in the way,’ Rob had said. Jessica gazed wistfully at Nan’s enlarged belly.
“It’s a boy. Steven James Albright Junior.” She beamed at her husband. “But the doctor also said that he’s already over seven pounds. Another two weeks and he’ll never be able to get out the old-fashioned way.”
Steve winked. “He got in there the old-fashioned way.”
Over the laughter, Nan cocked her head to one side, paused, then said, “Oooohhh, yes. I remember. That sex thing. It used to be very nice, back when such a thing was possible.”
“Don’t give us that,” Steve said. “We’ve found ways. Oral sex has never been as pleasant.”
“Oral sex is always pleasant,” Gloria said.
“And we found the most delicious goo in a sex catalog,” Pete added. “I hate the ones that taste like fruit juice. This one’s cinnamon. Very spicy.”
Gloria winked. “Just like me.”
Jessica was amazed with the openness of the talk about sex. Rob had always found the subject distasteful, so it never came up in conversation with their friends.
As the group chatted in the large living room, the doorbell rang again. That must be Eric, Jessica thought, her palms damp. Not a date, Jessica told herself. Just a man coming to a party.
Eric Langden was about six feet tall with iron-gray hair and a well-trimmed, iron-gray moustache and beard. An architect, he had been divorced for five years. The group was obviously comfortable together and they all made an effort to draw Jessica into the conversation.
Over rum and fruit drinks that Brian whipped up in a constantly whirring blender, they talked for several hours about everything from world tensions to real-estate prices, from television shows and movies to crabgrass. When she stopped to think about it, Jessica realized that she hadn’t had such a light, tensionless evening in a long time.
“By the way, did anyone see Sally Jessie this afternoon?” Nan asked, sipping her club soda.
“Most of us have to work,” Marcy said. “And anyway, since when have you been interested in the adventures of dysfunctional families airing their dirty little secrets in public?”
“I’m practicing to stay home for a few months at least. You have to watch at least two hours of talk shows and an hour of soaps each afternoon to keep your daytime TV certification. Actually, there’s not much else on.”
“So which dirty little secret did Sally Jessie reveal today?” Steph asked. “Transvestite lesbian cannibals?”
“People who’ve had plastic surgery on their penises,” Chuck said.
“Women
