“It’s only for a week, Mike,” retorted Rachel as she wheeled her luggage out the door. She wasn’t making the slightest effort to placate me.

I had been pushing Rachel pretty hard to forego her seminar and take a short vacation with me, but to no avail. She insisted that her chances for advancement in the insurance company where she worked would increase almost exponentially if she attended the week-long seminar in Boston.

I was equally insistent that she didn’t need a promotion so badly that she had to give up so much of our family time. We’d been married for 22 years. Both of our kids were in college now and I wanted my wife to spend more time with me and less at her work. A couple of weeks ago, Rachel was scheduled for a week’s vacation from work, but now she was on her way to a goddamn seminar about who-knows-what.

She didn’t see things as clearly as I did. Her company had made a practice of dangling possible promotions in front of employees if they just worked a little harder, a little longer and a slight bit better than their competition for the promotion. I had first pointed the practice out over ten years ago, but she simply couldn’t see the situation as well as I understood it.

Rachel had managed to get two promotions in those ten years. I was convinced that they were more like “participation trophies.” Show up at work long enough and they’ll give out a new title or office, but damned little was reflected in her salary.

When I suggested that she should look for a new job a few years back, she had a conniption. “I’ve got a lot of time, effort and training in my job. I’m moving up the ladder. A new job would mean starting all over again. Sometimes I get the impression that you’re jealous of my success.”

The fact that I was an engineer pulling down more than double her pay meant nothing in her world. I was a member of “the good old boys’ club” and was paid so well because of my gender, not because of my contributions to my company’s success. The funny thing is that Rachel did our tax returns. She had to see the differences in our earnings.

I knew that Rachel was the queen of denial even before we were married. Sadly, I had never fully determined just how deep and swift that river actually flowed, at least not until she refused to admit that her employers were taking advantage of her hard work and dedication. I had no doubt that some recently hired employees were getting paid every bit as much as Rachel, but I knew the very mention of that possibility would go against her reality.

It saddened me as I contemplated my marriage. The last time Rachel and I had actual sex was the day before Christmas and it was now June. I was 44 years old, in relatively good shape and with a healthy libido.

A thought suddenly hatched in my head. Zelda Zane had mentioned it a couple weeks prior, but it hadn’t fully registered. I really didn’t have a marriage. I was essentially living the life of a monk sharing an occasional meal with a frigid nun. Why the fuck was I putting up with it? Pleasing Rachel was almost impossible. When had she taken my balls, and why hadn’t I even noticed?

I thought about that for a while. I concluded that I had to find my balls, and even more importantly, put them to good use. I fished my phone out of my pocket and perused my contact list. It took a minute, but Zelda Zane’s name and number appeared. I chuckled to myself as I realized all I had to do was go to the end of my list. What names could possibly come after Zelda Zane? Zeus? Zorro?

Zelda answered her phone on the second ring. “Mike?”

Zelda and I had spent some time together at a mutual neighbor’s Memorial Day cookout. We both had a little too much to drink. That caused us to reveal personal issues we would normally have kept to ourselves. For some reason, but not surprisingly, Rachel was working on the holiday. I was unattached at the party and Zelda didn’t take long to notice. She had always acted as if she liked Rachel more than she liked me, but she was surprisingly friendly when Rachel wasn’t around to protect her interests.

“Isn’t Rachel here today, Mike?” Zelda asked. “She’s nuts to let a good looking husband like you go to a party alone. A lot of these desperate bitches will be trying to get into your pants.”

“I don’t seem to be having any trouble keeping them at bay,” I replied with a chuckle. “A piece of ass and a bicycle ride would probably put me in the hospital. I’ve been in a dry spell and things aren’t looking too promising for the near future.”

“By dry spell, do you mean a few weeks?” Zelda practically whispered in my ear.

“How many weeks has it been since Christmas?” I asked as I began doing the math in my head.

“Holy shit! That’s like over twenty weeks,” Zelda exclaimed a little too loudly to suit me. “You must be ready to explode, even if you’ve been handling things on your own, so to speak.”

“I’m not looking for sympathy,” I quickly pointed out. “You asked so I told you. Please don’t make more out of it than it is. I should have kept my mouth shut. It isn’t something to brag about, I never heard of a married man wanting to set a record for celibacy.”

“You poor guy! Why don’t we go over to my place and resolve this situation to our mutual benefit?” Zelda offered.

“Haha. That’s a good one but it’s probably better that you don’t make jokes like that,” I replied. “It would be your fault if I grabbed you and dragged you into the bushes over there.”

“Start dragging,” Zelda retorted as she offered her hand for me to take.

“You say that now, but you’d have a different story when the police showed up and dragged my ass off to jail,” I predicted.

“Would the cops get here before or after you took me to Nirvana?” Zelda quizzed.

“I hope you’re kidding. I’d have you reduced to a quivering mass of protoplasm long before they tossed me into the slammer,” I boasted.

“That wouldn’t take very long,” Zelda replied. “You’ve managed to get me half way there just by suggesting it. Why don’t we go to my place so we can avoid the police, nosey neighbors and grass stains on our knees?”

It suddenly occurred to me that Zelda might be serious. Had I unknowingly talked my way into a possible marriage ending liaison?

“Zelda, I didn’t mean to mislead you. I’m sorry if I did,” I apologized. “I’m a married man. I took vows and I meant them. You’re a lovely woman, but I’m not looking to have an affair or anything like that.”

“Mike, you aren’t married. You have no wife. You’ve got some dried up shrew doing her best to ruin what should be the best years of your life. That’s not what a real wife does. It sure isn’t love. She’s not treating you like you deserve.

“Your loyalty is admirable and its one of the things I like about you, but it’s misplaced,” Zelda reasoned. “When my husband was alive, I tried to be available to him whenever he wanted me. I was so glad I did that. He got sick and died so quickly, I wouldn’t have had time to make up for any lack of affection between us. I hate that he died, but I don’t have any regrets about our life together. I seriously doubt that you can say the same.”

My interaction with Zelda was still fresh in my mind almost two weeks later. She was right. I didn’t really have a wife or a marriage any more. I had my right hand and more than a few evenings dining alone. That wasn’t how marriages were supposed to work.

Once Zelda answered her phone, I became tongue tied. “Hi, Zelda. I was wondering if things are okay with you. How’s your garden?”

Where the hell did that question come from? I should have planned out my conversation before I made the call. She’d never be able to determine what I really called about. I was too much of a chicken shit to ask her if she still wanted to get laid.

“Mike, are you calling because you want to have sex with me?” Zelda asked without any preliminaries.

How could she tell when I only asked about her garden? Was she serious or just making fun of me? I knew that I had to proceed carefully so I didn’t offend her.

“I was just thinking. Rachel is going to be gone for a week and I...”

“Get your ass over to my place. The door will be unlocked. I’ll be on my knees and naked,” Zelda promised.

“I didn’t want to assume that you would want me to come over if you were busy, or had company, or wanted to watch baseball, or...”

“Mike, shut the hell up and get over here. I’m hanging up now so I can get ready. This is great!”

As I pocketed my phone, I mulled over Zelda’s invitation. It seemed straight forward enough. I couldn’t come up with a reason to think she didn’t really want me to go to her place.

After 22 years of marriage, hearing a woman telling me she’d be waiting for me on her knees was hard to believe, but that slim possibility left me no option. I grabbed my keys and headed for the door.

Unsure of how to proceed once I made the five minute drive to Zelda’s place, I somewhat timidly knocked on her door. I was surprised to see the door open immediately. A fully clothed Zelda greeted me with a chaste hug and an obvious smirk.

“You didn’t really think I’d be naked and on my knees, did you, Mike? I was teasing you to see how long it would take you to get here. You made it in less than five minutes. I’m impressed. Usually the light on Hickory Street stays red forever.”

“Well, there wasn’t any other traffic, so I...”

“You ran the red light? You really must be horny. I’m flattered, or would you have done the same thing if Mrs. Drysdale had made the same promise?”

“I have to admit she’s pretty well preserved and probably has a lot of experience since she’s almost 90 years old. I can’t say if I would have declined if she had given me the same promise. It’s been quite a while since I’ve enjoyed carnal knowledge,” I admitted.

“That statement indicates that either you don’t usually enjoy sex or that you haven’t had it recently?” Zelda teased.

“You told me on the phone that Rachel is going to be gone for a week,” Zelda continued. “Don’t worry about me reneging on my promise, but I thought it would be nice if we sat down with a cold drink and discussed what our goals and hopes might be with your visit.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. I suppose I left my house hoping for a great blowjob. I know that’s presumptuous of me, but you kind of led me on over the phone,” I answered honestly. “I’ve been giving our last conversation a lot of thought and I finally decided that I had enough of Rachel’s shit.”

“I’m not telling you that a blowjob is off the table, but it isn’t a lead pipe cinch, either,” Zelda responded with a grin. “Are you expecting to have a clandestine affair with me and simply go back to Rachel when she returns from wherever she’s gone?”

“Truthfully, I don’t. Normally, I call her around eight when she’s away, but I’m not calling her tonight. We had tentatively planned a getaway this week to Kentucky. She was scheduled for a week’s vacation from her work and I had no trouble getting this week off,” I stated. “Three days ago, Rachel told me that she had to go to a seminar in Boston for the entire week.

“I tried to talk her out of it. I had made some reservations, although nothing special was planned. That isn’t the point. She’s pretty much ignored me for most of the past year. She keeps spending more time at work and less time at home. Sex isn’t on the table anymore. We hardly have a simple discussion. She’s either on her lap top or her phone when she’s at home.”

“If we sleep together, are you going to tell her?” Zelda asked. “Are you going to give her a chance to mend her fences first? Are you thinking about a divorce?”

“This is a no fault state, so it doesn’t matter which spouse wants to leave the marriage or who screwed it up. The kids are in college and that’s been covered by a program that allowed us to place money into a fund for their college as long as they went to a state school. We have no mortgage. We can sell the house and split the money. I may have to pay her some support, but it’ll be worth it.”

“It sounds like you’ve been giving some serious thought to a divorce. Do you still love her?”

“The quick answer is that I don’t love the Rachel I’m married to now,” I admitted. “I miss the Rachel who I married those many years ago, but I’ve had more than enough of the woman she is today. I’m going for a divorce regardless of what you and I do tonight. Are you concerned about being mentioned in a divorce petition?”