Surely Oprah will help get my mind off sex. For an hour I can feel better about myself by observing others’ miserable lives. I quickly dress in a T-shirt and shorts, then head to the living room to queue up the VCR. I tape Oprah daily.
I rewind the tape for several seconds, then stop and hit play. When the show comes on, Oprah is looking thoughtfully at a teary-eyed woman.
“So what do you think happened?” Oprah asks the dark-haired woman. “Why did the passion in your marriage die?”
The woman looks downright confused. “I don’t know.”
“You have to know,” Oprah insists. “When you think about your marriage, your life—and I’m sure you have—you have to have at least an idea of what went wrong.”
That’s not fair, Oprah, I think. Maybe she doesn’t know. I’m living proof that things can go sour and a person has no clue why.
“The children,” the woman finally answers. “I suppose once the children came along, that’s when the spark started to fizzle.”
“I’ve said this once,” Oprah begins, “I’ll say it again. Women often put themselves last when the children come along. They get so caught up in mothering, they forget their own needs as women.”
“Not all the time,” I say to the TV. I know without a doubt that if Charles and I were to have children, I’d still make room for an active sex life. As it is, we have no kids, so what’s Charles’s damn excuse?
Stretched out on the sofa, I continue to watch the show, though I’m not sure why. This isn’t exactly making me forget about my dismal situation with my husband. But on the bright side, as I watch a series of women talk about their passionless marriages, I know I’m not alone.
I sit up when Oprah announces that she has a surprise for her guests. She does the best surprises.
“I know you’re all here today because you want help,” Oprah says. “And I want to help you regain the passion your marriages are missing. That’s why I’m sending you and your spouses on a four-day getaway to the romantic Canyon Ranch Spa in Tucson, Arizona!”
The couples burst into full-blown smiles and the audience rowdily applauds.
“This spa has everything you can possibly think of for couples. Classes on kissing. How to create exceptional sex.” The audience hoots and hollers. “If you can’t reconnect sexually with your partner after this four-day weekend, then I don’t think you ever will.”
Oh my God. This is it. The answer I’ve been waiting for.
Of course! How could I have been so narrow-minded?
When was the last time Charles and I took a trip together? About a year and a half ago, and we had really great sex then. I have to get Charles away from work, take him on a romantic trip to this place designed for lovers, and there’s no way we won’t recapture what’s missing in our relationship.
I jump off the sofa and head toward the home office. I intend to find out everything there is to know about the Canyon Ranch Spa. I don’t care what it costs. I’d pay any amount to get Charles alone somewhere where the entire object of the place is to have sex.
If nothing else, I’ll be able to figure out once and for all if my husband is attracted to me. If we’re alone together in a sexual paradise and he still can’t get it up, then I’ll have to…
Truthfully, I don’t want to think about what I’ll have to do. I don’t want to be in a loveless marriage, and I do want to have children.
All of which I’m sure will happen, just as soon as Charles and I recharge our marriage. And I’m rearing to go. But I can hear Charles’s protests that work will keep him at home. He puts in more hours than one would think humanly possible.
I know it’s going to be hard to get him away from work, but I’m going to try. One weekend is all we need.
I type in the words Canyon Ranch Spa.
As the page loads, I’m instantly impressed. This place is stunning. Outdoor Jacuzzi tubs, palm trees…This is romantic at its best.
I look heavenward and utter, “Thank you, God.”
Hours later, I can’t sleep.
Beside me, Charles is lightly snoring. He hasn’t touched me, of course, despite the red negligee I’m wearing. I know priests who couldn’t resist me in this outfit, yet Charles is painfully oblivious.
I stroke his arm. “Charles.”
He doesn’t move, so this time I shake his shoulder. I don’t care that it’s two in the morning. I want to make love, or at least talk to him.
“Charles.”
“Hmm?” he finally mutters.
“Sorry to wake you up,” I tell him. But I’m not. I need to talk to him about this, and it has to be now.
“What is it?” he asks in a sleep-filled voice.
“I was wondering…wondering if you might be able to take some time off work soon.”
“What?”
“There’s this place I found out about, and I’d like us to go. It’s in Arizona.”
Charles groans. “Can’t we talk about this in the morning?”
“I guess so…But I’m excited. Do you know when you will have some time?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you check tomorrow?”
“What’s this about?”
Now I hesitate. “It’s about us reconnecting. Going away together so we get out of the routine we’re in.”
“Oh.” He pauses. “Can I go back to sleep now?”
My heart is beating hard as I edge my body closer to his. It shouldn’t be, damn it. This is my husband. I should feel one hundred percent comfortable holding him in the night, comfortable slipping my body onto his, comfortable taking his penis into my hands…But I don’t, because I’m afraid he’ll reject me.
Slowly, I slip an arm around him, settling my hand on his warm stomach. My fingers tease the hairs around his navel.
I don’t realize that I’m holding my breath until Charles does something that he hasn’t done in a long time.
He places a hand over mine.
A surge of warmth rushes through my body. I release the breath I was holding on a low moan. The ache inside me is so intense as I trail a finger down past his belly button, straight toward his groin. I feel the mass of hair and already I’m getting wet.
Finally, Charles and I are going to make love.
I cover him with my hand and as soon as I do, he covers my hand again. I press my lips against his shoulder. “Oh, Charles…”