A Loafer's Guide To Living

2-3

“Why don't we order some take-out? How about Chinese? It'll be just the two of us.”

“Like a date?”

Sharon shaded her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

I bent down to loosen the bandage. “Sure. Why not?”

“I'm worried about Sean.”

I looked up in surprise. I was too but I didn't think my concerns extended to her. “And why is that?”

“He's just secretive in another way. I see too much of my brother in him. Never tellin' the truth, always sneakin' about thinkin' we'll never catch him out. Has the mind of a compulsive fool.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “That sounds a lot like Egan.”

“And Sean,” she said. I hadn't yet told Sharon about Sean's latest escapade. Apparently, he forged my signature on a permission form and told the office he'd be away the following week on a 'family trip'. The head secretary at the school became a little suspicious and called me at the office to confirm the story. I wondered what sort of family trip he'd had in mind and where this family might be travelling. This wasn't the first time Sean had pulled a stunt like this nor, I surmised, would it be the last. He was a devilish child who preyed on the good nature of those around him, especially his brother, who seemed willing to forgive him anything and follow along in the next antic, something that usually came back and bit him in the ass. “There's not much we can do, I suppose,” she said and stretched her arms out behind her head.

“No,” I agreed. “Why don't I go order?”

She eyed me with a small smile playing on her lips. “All right then.”

The boys rolled in around eleven-thirty. Sharon had gone up to bed, or rather hobbled as I helped her up the stairs. I offered to help her undress but she told me that wasn't necessary, she hadn't become an invalid yet. Chastened, I beat a retreat back to the living room to read and wait up for them, the miscreants. I heard the fumbling at the door and then Nathan's dark head poked around the frame. From my vantage in the living room, I could see them clearly. The foyer was in darkness but I could see well enough.

“All clear,” he whispered and stepped quietly inside, his sneakers scuffing but not squeaking along the floor. Sean breezed in after, unaware or not caring about the noise he made. He kicked the door shut.

“I need a drink,” he said and made a beeline for the kitchen, his lean frame undulating in the semi-darkness. Nathan froze in the doorway as he glanced in my direction.

“Hi Dad.”

“Have a good time?”

“How's Mom? Was she badly hurt?”

“Well you didn't stick around long enough to find out.”

“Sorry about that.” At least the kid had a conscience.

“What was that?” asked Sean, drinking from a tumbler.

“Your mother.”

“Oh yeah, how is she?”

“Resting, thank you for asking.”

Sean shrugged. “Yeah well, whatever. Uh, listen can you give me a couple bucks. We had to use our own money for the bus.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It was your choice to go to the movies. What it cost and how you got there was your problem, not mine.”

He drained the glass. “Oh, thanks a lot. I'm going to watch TV.” And he stalked off. Nathan hadn't moved.

“Is Mom really okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Just a bad sprain, that's all but she'll be hobbling about for a week or two, so bear that in mind, all right? And the two of you might ask after her tomorrow or even get her a card or some flowers, that would be a nice gesture.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight Nathan.” I saw his dark shape melt away into the shadows of the hallway.

“Is that them?” Sharon asked, tipping her reading glasses down her nose so she could look up and over the lenses at me.

“Yes.”

“Concerned for my welfare, are they?” she muttered, bitterness creeping into her voice. “What have I ever done to them except give them everything they wanted and more?”

This was a familiar refrain. I didn't want to encourage it. Rather, I began to change into my pajamas, well, a ripped T-shirt and a pair of old boxer shorts actually. Then I went about my exercises as solemnly as I could, knowing that Sharon was eyeballing me. She'd cut off the lament. I didn't want to talk to her because I would lose my concentration and when I went through the motions of doing crunches and push-ups, I needed very badly to concentrate or I'd collapse and never get beyond the first five or six. She always watched me with an amused expression on her face, an expression that communicated something like, who are you trying to kid? Still, I was attempting to keep middle-age and all that goes with it, at bay. I didn't think I was doing a terrible job.

“I don't think you listen to me anymore,” she said and sighed. In reply, I grunted, my face about to burst from effort. I'd finished the 150 crunches and moved on to the push-ups, light blinked at the end of the tunnel, only 10 more to go.

“For God's sake, you sound like you're going to blow up.”

“Thank you,” I panted into the carpet, silently counting my blessings. I managed to make it through. I pushed back to my knees, face down, and breathed into the beige shag, that is, until I felt well enough to struggle to my feet. Sharon had pushed down the covers and I could see she wore only a silk teddy that had inched its way up her thighs. Lacking any self-control whatever, I felt myself stiffen almost instantly. She smiled at me.

“I want my pound of flesh,” she said. I got into bed beside her. “Mind the ankle, won't ya?” I must admit, this had been a saving grace in our marriage. Whatever else may not be right, the s*x remained pretty wonderful most of the time. And she always smelled good.

Sharon lay on her side, stark naked. We remained entangled under the covers. She stroked my face and I drifted into sleep, the heat of our actions slowly beginning to dissipate. “I was thinking, luv.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was wondering about having another child.”

My eyes popped open. I felt her thighs turn to steel effectively pinning me where I lay. God damn that personal trainer. “What? Are you insane?” I struggled, trying to pull back without success, feeling the semen leak out of me, microscopic traitors to the cause.

“No,” she said in a low voice. “I just wanted to hold a baby again. I can't explain it really, it's just a feeling I've got. Men just don't understand it, I suppose.”

“And don't want to,” I retorted. “We've got children. We've done our bit to augment the population.” My mind raced and thought about how much work a baby was, the sleepless nights, the changing, the feeding, the constant, never-ending list of tasks and chores, I wanted away from all of that. “You don't think we're a bit, uh, old, now?”

“Are you sayin I'm too old?”

“Well, it's just that, we're not 22 anymore. Personally, I don't think I've got the energy for a baby.”

“Ach, you talk like you're a pensioner, Bernie. Lots of couples have children later in life. Sean and Nathan can help us out. They're old enough to assume some responsibility.” I almost cackled out loud at that one.

“Sean and Nathan?” I exclaimed. “You've got to be joking. Getting them to put a way a dish is a major effort. Or putting the cap back on the salad dressing or picking up the clothes they've strewn about the floor. And you think they're responsible enough to help look after a baby? That's a laugh, that is.”

“Don't underestimate them,” she replied tartly. “Give them the responsibility and I think they'll run with it.”

“Yes. In the opposite direction from a baby.”

I was still pinned by those iron thighs and somehow the injured ankle didn't seem to be bothering her anymore. Perhaps it was the extra strength Tylenol with codeine she'd gobbled before bed. She put her hand on my face and squished my cheeks. I felt like a fish caught in a vise. “I want you to give some serious thought to this, luv. I mean it.” Her face loomed very close to mine. I felt her hot breath.

She released my cheeks and I moved my mouth around to restore the feeling. “You're not, uh, I mean, you haven't… now, have you?”

Her green eyes widened. In the darkness, I swore I could see sparks flying off the flecks of gold in those captivating irises. “No, not yet. I didn't think that was quite right. You're entitled to your say, after all.”

“Right. And then?”

“And then… I'll do what I like anyway, just as I always have.”

Her thighs parted and I rolled on to my back, wilted and sticky. Inwardly, I groaned. There wouldn't be a moment's peace now, for years. Now I felt Ramon's pain right where it hurt, in the nuts. “Goodnight,” I muttered. Sharon rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly. I marvelled at how she could do that but she had the knack for it. After this latest bombshell exploding my peaceful existence, smashing it to smithereens, I lay awake in the dark, imagining my life frittered away under an avalanche of stinky diapers and discarded wipes.