Page 4 of The Wife
“Anyway,” I carried on, “I know it bothers you. That people might think that of you. Especially now that we’re going to stay married. If we tell everyone upfront, then it’s out there. As fact.”
Jake leaned forward across the table. “Ellie we make a ‘statement’ that we’re not having sex and everyone is going to think we’ve been fucking our brains out. We say nothing, then at least it leaves it open for debate.”
I was not going to think about how I felt after a statement likefucking our brains out. Nor was I thinking about what that might look like. With his naked penis.
“What are you going to do for three years?”
“About what?”
“Sex, Jake. Sex. Are you going to be making more trips to Missoula?”
“Ellie,” he said with a warning tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
I held up my hands. “Sorry. You don’t get to pull that anymore. I’m going to be eighteen next week. You have needs. I get that. What about me? I have needs too, Jake!”
It was very unfortunate timing on my part, as Kathy chose just that moment to come by to take our orders. Her expression was as awkward as I felt.
“Like right now Ineeda tuna open-melt sandwich with American.” I smiled at Kathy.
“Got it. Open T with Am. You, Jake?”
“I’ll do the same.”
“Yep. Be back in a few. Minutes. It should only take a few minutes,” Kathy said, basically letting us know her schedule so we could plan our sex conversation accordingly.
Jake just gave me the look.
“Okay,” I said. “Awkward. Fine. But that doesn’t change anything. We’ve mutually agreed we’re not going to satisfy those needs for each other, so I want to know how we’re going to do this. For three fucking years.”
“You shouldn’t swear.”
“Fuck you.”
That made him smile. “Okay. You’re saying we need new rules. But do we have to do this now and here? At Frank’s?”
“No,” I allowed. “I only wanted to put it out there that we can’t run away from the conversation. And the kid card no longer applies. Next week I’m an adult and I want to be treated that way.”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” I returned. “Speaking of, what are you getting me for my birthday? We don’t have any money left, so you’re going to have to be creative. Like baking a cake would totally count this year.”
“I’m not baking you a cake.”
“I love cake.”
“I’m not baking you a cake,” he repeated.
“Becausemendon’t bake? Some of the world’s most famous pastry chefs are men.”
“I don’t bake because I burn stuff.”
“Well, you have to get me something. I am yourwife.”
Weird. I used to throw that line around all the time as a joke. Now it didn’t feel anywhere as funny.
“I have an idea, but it’s a surprise.”
I clapped. I loved surprises. I especially loved guessing what the surprise was going to be.
