Michael and Susan

Chapter 13 (Michael): Beautiful

Copyright © 2024 by GroveltoHEA

Smoothing down my tie, I looked at the clock before I buttoned and unbuttoned my suit coat again. Susan should be here in less than five minutes. She was never late, and I felt like I did the first time I took her on a date.

Nervous.

I wasn't a man given to nerves, but even more than my first date with Susan, there was much more at stake here. My wife's happiness, her trust in me, our marriage -- they were all on the line. Susan had left me, and I'd never known any woman who'd walked out on her husband. 

What do you do with a woman who doesn't need you? You do your damnedest to win her back.

I'd told no one that she'd left me, not for my pride but for Susan's reputation. Although I didn't personally know of any women who'd left their husbands -- other than my own wife -- I'd heard a few whispered rumors before about the wives of a friend of a friend of a friend, and the wives were often considered to be women of ill-repute. Society could be unkind, so I wanted to protect Susan from that as much as I could. If anyone asked, I had decided to tell them that Susan was staying with a relative who needed help for the time being. When she came back, and I had to hope and pray she would, I didn't want any whispers to start.

I'd already packed a suitcase and my suit bag for the following day. They were in the trunk and I'd add whatever luggage Susan brought with her.

With one minute to go, I saw headlights in our driveway as she pulled in. We needed to leave early to get to Sapphire Cove by ten so the light was just beginning to push back the dark. Forcing myself to walk outside instead of running to her, I pressed a kiss to her cheek and took her luggage from the car.

"Where's the car?" she asked. 

I motioned to a mint green convertible Thunderbird I'd parked in the street. I'd borrowed it from my friend Paul for a couple of days for our trip out of town.

"Your chariot for the weekend," I told Susan and watched her eyes widen. "I thought you should arrive at your photo session in style. Did you bring your scarf and the sunglasses I sent you?"

"Yes, I did. So, you knew when you sent these that you'd be borrowing Paul's car?"

"Yes. I thought you might enjoy riding in a convertible." She followed me as I carried her suitcase and makeup case to the Thunderbird.

"I'm surprised he'd part with this," Susan said. "I remember him telling us at church how thrilled he was to have a Thunderbird. He joked he was ahead of his time since it was for the '55 model year."

"I don't think there's a prouder owner of a Thunderbird out there. But Paul was willing to loan the car to me because I promised to help him with his short game. He loses to me every time we play because he can't sink a putt to save his life, and he double bogeys every single hole."

"He must really want to improve his game if he's willing to give up his precious car for a couple of days."

"Lawyers play a lot of golf, so he needs to get better to stop the other lawyers and judges from razzing him about his game."

I made room in the trunk for her luggage, then opened her car door for her. Watching her tie her scarf on over her head, I realized just how much I'd missed her femininity in my life. There was something about your wife performing simple rituals that were both alluring and intimate.

Shrugging out of my suitcoat, I handed it to her to keep over her legs once she'd put her pocketbook on her lap.

Your jackets always keep my legs warm when we're in the car, Michael.