Game Playing | 19 January 2022
She was feeling kinda bored and thought, “Games. We need games,“ so she got off the sofa and opened the game cabinet. The cabinet with a missing handle for over two years. Often this reminds her of how much she doesn’t see, and she feels lonely. Tonight was different, because her focus was on what was inside the cabinet. Trouble. The fun kind of trouble. Pop-o-matic! She didn’t even ask if he wanted to play, but as she opened the box and set up the pieces, he sat up and scooted to the edge of the sofa. “If I win, I get a blowjob,” he said. “Game on,” she replied.
BNR Response
She knew there was no chance in hell that Jack would win, and she was right. But it was well worth the gamble to get them out of their rainy-day slump. He’d been watching YouTube videos on his phone all morning and afternoon while she worked the crossword and then as she started and finished a jigsaw puzzle on the covered porch. Hours had gone by where they hadn’t said a word, and she hadn’t been sure if it was the silence that comes from resentment or the kind that comes from ease of being alone while with someone. She was relieved to find it to be the latter. Years ago, rainy days in the mountains meant no cell service, lots of time in the clawfoot tub together, and nights up talking over several bottles of wine. These days it was mostly scrolling through Reddit and Instagram, weekend working, arguments over the kids’ calendars, and silence across the dinner table.
This weekend the kids were all otherwise occupied leaving them here, alone, to their own devices. Now that he had indicated he was maybe just bored and not irritated with her over some minor unknown infraction, (why hadn’t the water pitcher been refilled?!), she felt the tension in the middle of her back shake loose. She lifted her shoulders to her ears and let them drop as if she was shrugging off the stress of their entire 12-year marriage. Jack stood up, his knees creaking a bit, and sauntered over to the game chest. He returned Trouble to its home and pulled out Jenga. As they pulled the tower out of its box, she realized it was the Truth or Dare version and not the kid-friendly one they played as a family. She skipped to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of cognac and two snifters and sat cross-legged on the floor with an impish grin on her face. If you’re gonna get wet, you might as well go swimmin’.
Hours of actual game playing and a few glasses of aged-to-perfection Remy Martin later, she was feeling like a teenager again. The rain came down harder, banging on the tin roof so loudly that they had to raise their voices to hear each other. They had been playing Motown on low as the sun went down and he stood and turned it up to 11. Seized by an impulse she couldn’t identify, she got up, grabbed his hand, and led him outside in the rain. “Are the stars out tonight, I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright…” echoed out from the house after them like the music emanating from the gymnasium during a school dance, providing the cadence for their revelry. They swayed like fools and laughed like drunkards and gave the neighbors fodder for next morning’s gossip.
After 15 minutes, soaked to the skin, she first took his shirt off and then her own. She admired how Jack’s body had aged, skin softer and looser but clinging to taught muscles honed through decades of rowing and running. She was less friendly to herself about her own body but had learned to shut down the voice in her head that reminded her she wasn’t 25 anymore. She felt warm tears streak her cold cheeks and hoped he wouldn’t notice. He did. “What’s that for?” he inquired, tenderly. Something cracked open inside her and she felt the words rising in her chest, then behind her Adam’s apple. She choked on the words in her throat, afraid to say them but unable to hold them inside, “Where have you been?” Her mind flashed through a desperate montage of years of battles over parenting, fights about housework and work work, questions of trust, and expectations uncommunicated and unmet. Years of sad, wasted, and lost time. As if in a movie, he responded like he had read her mind, “I don’t know, but I want to find my way back.” It was at that moment that the surprisingly loud buzzer from the dryer sounded and jolted her eyes back to focus on what was truly ahead of her: darkness shrouded her as she sat, chilly and alone in front of the porch puzzle table and the eerie, familiar glow of Jack’s phone reflecting in his eyeglasses.