First Lady in Control

2-2

Cheryl didn’t notice. Her eyes fixed on a tall, dark haired, youthful salesman stacking hangers in boxes. “Jesus mercy, glum onto that, Janet. I think they planted him here in the lingerie department on purpose. As we finger the intimate apparel we can imagine Mister Salesman ripping it off our bods.”

“Cheryl, listen to you,” Janet said with mock shock.

A saleslady greeted Janet and directed her to the negligees. In minutes Janet found exactly what she was looking for.

“What do you think?” she asked Cheryl. She held a very sheer black negligee in front of her. It had spaghetti straps and draped to the floor.

“It’s beautiful and sexy. If Burt saw you in it he’d chase you around the bedroom like a fox in a chicken-coop.”

“Lay won’t have to chase me. It’s a peignoir set and also comes with this top,” Janet said.

“Exquisite and very sophisticated,” the saleslady said.

“We’ll take it,” Cheryl said.

On the down escalator Cheryl turned to Janet, “What do you say we check out the handbags?”

“How about if we go right home instead? Tonight’s a very special occasion, and I’d like to pamper myself before getting ready for Lay.”

“Only if you give me all the details tomorrow for lunch.”

Janet was quick to oblige so she could relive them herself. “It’s a date,” she said.

They went to Barnes and Noble and picked up the Law book Janet called ahead for before starting back. In the car Cheryl said, “Paint me a picture, Janet, of what you’ve planned for tonight.”

Janet sat up in her seat. Her sparkling eyes proclaimed the joy she felt inside. “We’re going to start with a romantic candlelight dinner at home. I even arranged for Mattie to take Sean for the night and you know how much I hate that woman. As much as it goes against my grain, I want to be absolutely certain that nothing’s going to interrupt us.”

“You are going all out. I didn’t think I’d ever see you let your mother-in-law take the baby.” Cheryl rolled the window down farther. It wasn’t hot enough for air conditioning, but it was stuffy in the car.

“Layton’s agreeable to a quiet celebration at home?”

“He wasn’t at first. He suggested dinner at a new fusion restaurant downtown and afterward to the theater to see an Ibsen play, but I wouldn’t budge. He even asked me to invite you and Burt.”

Cheryl crossed the fountain at Grant Park smiling at the sight of children playfully skipping through the fountain daring a nearby patrolman to chase them. She turned onto Lakeshore Drive. A sunbeam bounced from the side mirror of the car in front and momentarily blinded Cheryl. She shielded her eyes with her hand. “So you don’t want to go out with Burt and me?” Cheryl laughed.

“On any other occasion but we’re way overdue for an intimate evening alone. Something’s always wedging us apart. If it isn’t Sean, then it’s Lay’s work or politics.”

“You’re right to address it,” Cheryl said philosophically. “It can get away from you before you know it. What are you making for dinner?”

“Veal Scallopini. I’m a master at it. Learned the recipe from my mother, although we seldom ate it since veal was so expensive.”

Soldier Field loomed on their left, sticking out like the time worn ruins of a Roman coliseum with its cement palisades and pillars. It was an architectural tribute to the Bears, Chicago’s own gladiators, who entertained with their black and blue, hard-hitting style of football.

“Something sinful for dessert?”

“In addition to me,” she said with a wink, “a very rich and highly caloric New York Style Chocolate Cheesecake.”

“My mouth’s watering.”

“And we still have a couple of bottles left of that wonderful German Liebfraumilch Lay got from the Law Firm at Christmas. I put them in the fridge to chill.”

“Classy. The music. Let me guess: Montavani, Vivaldi, or maybe Spanish guitar?”

“You’re warm. I admit I did consider them, but they’re not quite it.” She swayed back and forth, waving her arms and humming as if she were dancing the hula.

“Hawaiian as in honeymoon.” Cheryl said.

“Yes. It’s hard to imagine it was only two years ago. It seems so far away.” Janet thought about the extraordinary honeymoon they shared. Each day she and Layton lay by either the fresh or saltwater pool totally focused on one another, soaking up the sun and drinking Pina Coladas. Later arm in arm they walked the charcoal lava beaches and pledged their love to one another. They played golf, tennis, went snorkeling, and took a breathtaking helicopter ride over cascading waterfalls. But most of all Janet remembered making love with Lay on the balcony of their hotel suite. Layton was so tender, so intent on giving pleasure to her. Janet cherished that warm moment. There had been few like it and she was determined tonight would be another.

Cheryl brought her back to the present. “Home, sweet, home,” she said, pulling the car into the drive. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow shortly after eleven. I’ll look forward to hearing all about the details. Have the time of your life.”

A giant Crimson King Maple cast a thick shadow on Janet as she crossed the walkway to her front door. She stood motionless lost in her own thoughts. Then as an afterthought she turned to wave to Cheryl who was already half-way down the street.

It was the middle of the afternoon. Janet was home at least two hours earlier than she anticipated giving her ample time to leisurely primp herself up for Lay. On this special night she was determined to be as glamorous and sensuous as possible. Mattie had already taken Sean so no one would be there to disturb her. She could pamper herself without interruption.

When she entered the kitchen, the glitter of a sailboat suncatcher that hung in her window hypnotically took her back to Hawaii. Then the glitter had been the moonlight on the surface of the ocean as still and dark as a cup of black coffee when she dined with Lay on a restaurant patio. Sweet fragrances of Hibiscus and Birds of Paradise, barely visible, wafted by their table pleasantly mixing with the lemon and dill aroma of the Mahi Mahi. Janet felt giddy, full of herself, reliving her dream honeymoon. She sported the beginning of a healthy tan and was beautiful in her silk, predominantly pink, floral dress splashed with the colors of the rainbow.

In his white linen, dinner jacket and hand painted, pastel tie, Layton looked handsome. The glint in his eye and the sly sensuous smile on his face foretold of passion and promise. Even now it was exhilarating to feel the rushes of love.

Maintaining the mood Janet went directly to the refrigerator to make a final check to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She eyed the salad fixings, her homemade vinaigrette dressing, the veal, wine, cheesecake, and orchids she bought to sprinkle on the bed like the hotel management had done for them in Hawaii. A creative touch she thought.

Satisfied, she removed the crocheted lace tablecloth Layton’s grandmother made used only on very special occasions from the cedar chest. She draped and smoothed it over the table. Humming, she went outside to the garden to select fresh flowers for the centerpiece. The sun warmed her back as she cut purple lilacs, white shasta daisies, and orange daylillies, feeling glad to be alive and thinking that only a few years ago this rosy existence would have seemed unreachable. She reflected on the quality of her comfortable affluence and her model marriage. Her romanticized, school girl fantasies had become flesh and bone reality. Inside the house she arranged the flowers in a cut glass vase and set them on the table. Any misgivings about her marriage were cast aside as exaggerated, irrational fretting spurred by the heat and frustration of life’s stressors. She felt like the flowers smelled - festive.

Deciding to soak in a tepid, Calgon bath to totally relax and savor the anticipation, she climbed the stairs to the bedroom taking the negligee and paying only minor attention to the closed bedroom door she remembered leaving open. When she opened the door her eyes fixed on the most revolting sight she’d ever seen. Layton was in bed with another man. Both were naked. Layton knelt behind the other man stroking him with his stiffness.

Janet’s heart dropped to her stomach. Nauseated, she gagged, made an abrupt about face, and covering her mouth with her hand stomped out of the room. She dashed into the adjacent bathroom barely making it to the toilet before throwing up. How could Lay have done this to her? How could he have pretended to love her when he preferred the company of a male?

On their second wedding anniversary when she was determined to make it so special for them. It wasn’t comprehensible. Spinning with dizziness she carefully rose, bracing herself on the sink. She heard a rustle from the bedroom and then an unfamiliar voice.

“I’m sorry, Lay, if there’s something I can do...”

“Just go. Leave. I’ll call you later.”

Embarrassed to be seen by Layton’s lover, Janet marched out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and out to the back porch. Deeply inhaling fresh air to cleanse the dirty feeling, Janet surveyed the picturesque landscape that contributed to her ebullience only minutes ago. Now, with her mind and body in hyperspeed, it offered little solace. It was cruel how quickly without warning life could change.

Hearing the door close behind her, she turned to see Layton naked, except for his slacks, and covered with perspiration.

“Janet, I’m sorry,” he said placing his hands on her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” she said pushing his hands away, “after you touched him.”

Sheepishly Layton backed off. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

“So you decided to break it to me gently.”

“I...”

Janet went back into the house slamming the door.

Layton pursued, catching her in the library. “We don’t need to let this affect our relationship.”

“Affect our relationship? How can you say that, Layton? It’s already been affected. It can never be the same.” The vision of Lay with his lover flapped in her head. “I can never be the same with you.”

“I don’t want you to leave me, Janet.”

Confused, Janet peered at him. “I don’t understand why you want me to stay.”

“I care about you, Janet, and I like our life together.”

“I get it, we can play let’s pretend. Together we make a lovely couple. You can parade me around as the respectable little woman. I might even get you a few votes.”

“Janet, it’s not like you’re making it sound.”

“No, you’re right, Layton, it’s worse. I could never describe how tragic and ugly this is. But I have no strength, to discuss this any further today. I’m totally drained. I just lost a part of me I’ll never see again.” Tears stung her eyes. “Please leave me alone.”

The days that followed were some of the most harrowing Janet would ever encounter. Learning her husband was gay was a crushing experience. Like a menacing, ferocious wind it swept her naive, idealized world from under her. The mental picture of Layton and his lover instantly explained their empty s****l life and a myriad of other concerns she had about their relationship.

She hated him for what he was, for what he’d done. She hated him for his betrayal of her. He permitted their marriage to happen even though he could never relate to her in the ways a woman needs. Layton deprived her from having her normal womanly needs met. He could never desire her with the intensity that lovers do when their passions fuse them together — when they become as one, inseparable — if only for moments.