Chapter 10

DAPHNE WAS A STRANGE DUCK. Oh, God! Did I say ‘duck?’ Daphne Duck? She’d kill me. I don’t think I’ll mention that.

But as to strange, I have to let that stand. I think she’d agree.

After the night of drinking with Rebecca and Jackie, Daphne agreed to go out with me. That’s a logistical nightmare. Theatre people are at the theatre all the time and we work long hours and odd hours. It was normal for me to leave the theatre at eleven at night. And after some Shakespeare shows, later. Nonetheless, Daphne didn’t seem to mind late night dates and even preferred them to getting up in the morning.

We didn’t start ‘going steady’ either. We’d have a date one weekend and go three weeks without seeing each other more than to say hi. We didn’t get to the point of sleeping together for months. I’ll get around to that story later. Once the ice had been broken for me, I dated a few others. Daphne wasn’t even the first I slept with while we were dating.

Daphne wasn’t a theatre person. By that, I mean she’d had no formal training. But she was born and raised in Ashland and had been around the festival all her life. She’d volunteered as an usher, been cast a few times as an extra, and even got a part-time job in the costume shop. She did laundry. I knew what condition my costumes were in after a show. I didn’t envy her the job. Rumor had it I wasn’t the first actor she’d gone out with and probably wasn’t the exclusive one. We had an open relationship. At least, that’s the way I interpreted it.

I left for Portland in the fall so we didn’t see too much of each other over the winter. She came up to Portland for a weekend a couple of times. Before I headed for Portland that year, I was told I needed to choose one theatre or the other as they were both moving to year-round schedules. Daphne didn’t really play a part in my decision to commit to Ashland. Maybe a little part. There would still be shows I wasn’t cast in and could get work elsewhere for a month or so. I did guest appearances and a one-man show my agent picked up for me. I was real bigtime by then and had to have an agent. I tried not to admit it.

Anyway, starting the next season in May, I was living in Ashland full time. I’d rented a room during the seasonal shows, but now I indulged in a nice apartment. I had Daphne over one night and she spent the night. She liked the way I kissed and was as horny as I was most of the time. By Christmas that year, we were practically living together. I say ‘practically’ because Daphne still lived with her parents but was spending four or five nights a week with me. I’d met her parents and they seemed like decent people, though a bit more reserved than CeeCee’s. I thought if something like that happened to Daphne, her parents probably wouldn’t bother to tell me she was dead. They were just kind of absent like that.

We finished A Christmas Carol with a matinee on December 22 and were dark until January 8. In those two and a half weeks Daphne and I set up housekeeping. I’m not sure how we got around to it, but both of us considered living together like this to be the last step before marriage. And children. We were both nearly thirty years old. The first time I mentioned marriage, Daphne got very serious. I thought I was about to hear the same lecture CeeCee had given me about remaining faithful. This one was a little more ambivalent.

“Listen, Terry. We’re together. I agree. I’d love to marry you. You agree. I’m thinking we’ll have a couple of kids sooner rather than later so we can enjoy our senior years without having a brat living with us like I did with my parents. But I want one thing very clear. I never want to hear about your love-life and affairs. And I don’t expect you to ask questions about mine. Those are closed subjects. I haven’t lived around theatre people this long without understanding them. I just never want to hear about it.”

It sounded to me like she didn’t expect me to be faithful and she didn’t expect to be faithful, either. She just wanted to make sure neither of us ever found out about it. I think, if CeeCee had made that kind of statement to me, I’d have had a much different reaction. But with Daphne? Strange.

“I can live with that.”

“Just remember, I don’t believe in divorce. I believe in murder.”

Without going into the details about why I couldn’t tolerate a June wedding, we decided on October. I was in production, but had a week off in October when it happened none of my shows were playing. Schedules work out that way sometimes. We were married and took our honeymoon. My little sister had been married for two years by that time and was going to get the honor of producing the first grandchild. But Mom and Dad came out for our wedding and seemed to like Daphne pretty well. It wasn’t the instant love and adoration that CeeCee inspired, but I was satisfied.

We went to Seattle for our honeymoon. It was a drivable distance and we both were interested in seeing the Emerald City. We’d been living together for nine months so it wasn’t quite like we had to find a hotel where we could hole up and screw for seven days. But we did a lot of that, too. We went to the ballet, the Seattle Art Museum, explored Pike Place Market, and rode the ferry across the Sound and back. And we ate really well.

I feel like a cad to say this, but it seemed that ever since the day we said our vows, women had been coming on to me. And some of them really looked good. I’d been engaged in ‘friendly conversation’ with a couple of them in Ashland, but in Seattle, it seemed like any time I was alone, an attractive woman would work her way into my line of sight, primp a little, smile at me, and finally when I didn’t respond, saunter away. And the thing is that I really wasn’t interested. Maybe I wasn’t ... Dad called it ‘whipped’ ... with Daphne the way I was with CeeCee, but I loved her and I really had no interest in anyone else.

I’m afraid that’s one of those things that change over time.

As soon as we were married, Daphne’s parents put their house on the market and moved to Arizona. Daphne went off birth control the next summer.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked.

“Are you asking me or you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I definitely want children. I’m just asking if you think we’re ready.”

“I’m still just doing the same stuff I was before we were married. I work part time in the costume shop, meet you after shows, volunteer as an usher, and live with you rent free. I’d like that one thing that makes it all different. I’d like to put my energy into raising our children.”

“I think you’ll be great at it. And I’ll do the best I can. I’m finally making a decent salary and my agent says she can get me some commercial work on radio and TV. I can’t imagine myself going on television and talking about how great Viagra is, but she says she gets calls every day for actors to do spots for all kinds of products. There’s a possibility I could bring in some extra money with an actual movie, too. Those things would take me away from home a little but they’d bring in enough to be able to afford anything we need for a baby. I’ll have her start negotiating my next season contract. I’ll have a good chance at some leading roles...”

“Terry!” I looked at Daphne. She grabbed my T-shirt in both hands and dragged my face down so she could kiss me. People can learn to be better kissers. Daphne is proof of that. She started off as one of those wide open mouth kissers who you think are going to devour your face. But a little manipulation and nudging here and there and she’d become very sensuous in the way she let our lips melt together. I was a little breathless when she finally let me up for air. “Shut up and fuck a baby into me.”

We were already in bed. She’d gone off her birth control. I was hard after that kiss and when I got my hand under her sleepshirt, I found she wasn’t wearing panties and was good and wet. I pulled the sleepshirt off her and my briefs and shirt off me. I started kissing my way down her body. Maybe I was going to fuck a baby into her but she was going to start with an orgasm to warm things up.

Daphne was one of the girls who never adopted the fully shaved look. Oh, she trimmed back far enough that she could wear a bikini and before our wedding she’d had her lower lips waxed. She had to go in to have that done about every six weeks and was always too sore to touch on those days. I found the thick tuft of black hair on her mons and worked my way down to her smooth wet slit. My fingers hadn’t deceived me and I licked up some of her tasty juices. Then I found her clit and started focusing on it as I drummed my fingers up against the top of her vagina where her G-spot was. I’m not sure I’d ever done that with her before. She exploded in an orgasm powerful enough to dislodge me from her pussy. Her hands tugging on my ears were a signal that I should get up there and get to the business at hand. I had to stop and suck on her nipples as I imagined what her breasts would look like when they were filled with milk for our little ones. I wanted to make sure I’d had my fill of her nipples before they became the property of our children.

And then I reached her lips again and her hand guided my rod into her hot core. We fucked with purpose. I wedged a hand between us and continued to stimulate her clit while I plunged in and out of her. When she reached her next peak, so did I. I’d had unprotected sex before but never with the stated intent of getting a baby back for my effort. And Daphne was on a hair trigger for her own orgasms. She went off again before I was finished.

We lay panting in each other’s arms until sleep claimed us. A couple of hours later, we woke up and did it again. And again in the morning. And again before I headed for the theatre that afternoon. And...

It was almost Christmas. I looked at the calendar on my computer. A computer. On my desk. I scarcely imagined such a thing ten years ago. I had email and a calendar with my rehearsal and performance schedule on it. I could download scripts for some plays. And there were job boards and forums for actors and other theatre people. It was pretty amazing, even if it was expensive.

Back to the calendar. It was December 21st. I didn’t make a big deal out of it but I sort of silently kept the Connors’ ritual for winter solstice in my mind. What was I leaving behind? What were my hopes for the future? I added, what did I want remembered? The past three or four months of sex with my wife was high on that list. I couldn’t remember a time when it was better. Probably because with every squirt into her unprotected vagina, I was trying to make a baby.

“Terry!” Daphne called from the stairs. We’d moved into a small house and I had a private space in the basement where I could get online and practice my lines without disturbing her.

“I’m down here,” I called. Daphne bounded down the stairs and into my den. Stark naked. Oh boy! Speaking of great sex...

“Guess what day today is.” I contemplated saying it was solstice but I started flipping through my memories trying to find some significant event in our lives that I should respond with and coming up short.

“Um ... The first day of winter?”

“Yeah, that,” she tossed off. “But today is the day I get to announce to my husband that I’m pregnant!”

What? Oh my god. We did it.

“That’s incredible,” I yelled, jumping up to join her in bouncing up and down. When Daphne bounced up and down, I pretty much just bounced up. She detected my arousal and pressed herself against me.

“I peed on the stick and it came out positive. We’re going to have a baby, Terry.”

“That’s so incredible! I think I’m going to carry my naked wife to bed and celebrate!” I scooped her up in my arms and headed for the stairs.

“Oh, we don’t have to do that anymore. I’m already pregnant.” What? Are you kidding me? I stopped with my foot on the step and stared at her with my mouth open.

“You mean... ?”

“Terry, you’re such a dope. I’m kidding! Take me to bed and ravish me. I want to make love to you every day until labor starts. Do you hear me? Every day!”