I Hereby Bequeath

I Hereby Bequeath

“To my beloved, wonderful daughters who have all the monetary resources they could need, my personal effects especially the childhood drawings they gave me for my birthday. 

To my husband Joe, my prize winning dalmation, in recognition of our spotty love. 

The rest of my estate, I leave to …”

I can easily imagine Joe’s reaction when he reads her name, the sharp intake of breath, a flash of anger, a flush flooding up his chicken neck and spreading across his sunken cheeks. The jaw will tighten, he will stiffen, and then fake insouciance.

Why on earth did I marry him all those years ago?  While the other girls were flirting and giggling, measuring their ring fingers and deciding on the color scheme for their up-to-the-minute kitchens, I was indifferent to it all.  But he had a fine topspin backhand, we were the club’s inevitable mixed doubles champions, he was educated and distantly polite.  My parents, eager to have me “settled,”  thought him a good catch – my dad even took me to one side and said,

 ”Don’t let this one get away.”

I don’t know what he saw in me apart from my overhead smash!  I was reasonably pretty, I had a good job and came from a wealthy background.   Joe was always a social climber and intensely competitive. Perhaps I was his ticket to success. 

A few months later, he proposed - getting down awkwardly on one knee on the piercing gravel carpark of Guido’s restaurant where we had dinner reservations.  After I said “yes” he swept me inside, where the waiters cheered, serenaded us and showered us with champagne.  As Joe’d dropped his wallet during the unsteady proposal scene, I was the one who paid for that champagne.

The hospice nurse is approaching. Julio’s a kind soul. Thank goodness he was on duty earlier and agreed to witness my new  will.

“You must be tired,” he says, “you’ve had quite the day, what with your friend coming this morning and your lawyer this afternoon.  Would you like some water? Do you need any pain medication?”

I do, but I tell him, “Thank you – I’ll wait a while.”  I want to keep my brain clear so I can go down memory lane one more time.

In all the rooms of our rambling house, except the bedroom, we fashioned a satisfactory life together in those early days. But he was ravenous for it, thinking his humping and pumping made him the world’s greatest lover. I had to feign and fake it, when often my mind was unravelling a knotty financial problem from work, or figuring out next week’s shopping list.  With all that activity, it’s not surprising that the twins came within a year of our wedding day.  The skin across my belly was tauter than a bongo drum and still he wanted to play me.  The pain I have now that makes me wince and hold my breath reminds me of the unrelenting birthing pains ripping through me with no relief.  At one point my blood pressure shot so high that, through my haze, I heard the doctors telling Joe that they could save the babies but not the mother. 

Well, not all medical predictions come true.  I cheated death then as I won’t now; it has me in its maw.  Determined to raise those little girls, very slowly  I recovered.

Everything changed after that. 

There was no question of other children now, no hope of a son for Joe, and I had been so mauled that I could refuse his advances for a long while.  Joe buried himself in work, and I guess that’s when the affairs began.  All his “business” trips gave him ample opportunity, yet they also drove him apart from his girls.  He didn’t seem to mind. 

And I was exhausted and so lonely – until Ava came. Our Swedish nanny who came for a year and stayed long enough to visit me this morning. Her gleaming blond hair and her flashing white teeth have lost a little of their luster as the years flew by, nonetheless she’s still a head turner.  When she arrived the gossips wagged their tongues saying, with evident relish, that I’d better watch Joe with Ava around. How wrong they were!  Ava became the quintessential Scandinavian ice queen when Joe was home. And, of course, by then he had other fish to fry.

Now when she was with me – I’d like to savor this, but the waves of pain are rolling in.  When she was with me, she transformed me. She lit up my life.

I still feel the weight of her breast, the curve of her hip, nibbling the sweet little earlobe, stroking her silky inner thigh, as our bodies merge effortlessly, deliciously and exquisitely.

I’m sure questions must have flickered across the girls’ brows, yet they never asked, never wondered  aloud why we still needed a nanny as they grew independent.  There was only one really close shave.  Joe and his “personal assistant” were in Japan, so once the girls were asleep, Ava  joined me upstairs. We were careful and never forgot to set an alarm so she could creep back to her room before the girls woke up.  The tip of my tongue was encircling her warm nipple and she was running her fingertips up and down my back as we heard a child’s tread in the corridor. Ava deftly rolled under the bed just as the bedroom door opened and a sleepy voice said,

“Mommy, Ella just threw up in bed and my tummy hurts:” 

I rushed her to the bathroom where she projectile vomited all over the floor. Under the circumstances perhaps it’s not surprising that she didn’t seem to notice that I was naked. After that we got the first dog, hoping that he’d give us a little warning if the children were out of bed.

Remembering the vomiting scene was a mistake – it’s brought me back to the present with all the unpleasantness of a drawn-out death. The pain is volcanic now, seizing me with eruption after eruption.  Ah! Julio’s back bearing my meds. I’ll take them all now I can’t ponder my memories any longer. 

They called to tell me my wife wouldn’t last much longer.  I came as soon as I could but we were negotiating an acquisition, so it was dark before I got to the hospice. I hate these places, I feel squeamish just walking down the corridor. Please God don’t let there be tubes sticking out of her and monitors beeping.  Oh! this is her room.  Oh my! the beautiful, strong athlete I fell so much in love with is rail thin.  She must be heavily sedated, she’s sleeping so deeply.  We rejected each other, we  should have found a better way if only for the girls’ sake. When they were tiny, I could hardly bear to touch them, they had so nearly cost their mother, my darling, her life. And all she could think of was them.  I was cast aside. 

I think I  can forgive her everything – even Ava - as long as she doesn’t leave me the damn dog!