It's Only Tuesday

Chapter Four

It's never comfortable to have your legs spread open, in a bright room with your doctor's face inches away from your crotch and that famous line, move farther down to the edge of the table, leaves you feeling even more exposed. As I put my sweater dress and tall boots back on after the doctor had left, I couldn't help but think of what reminded me of her visit to her in the first place. It had only happened a week ago, but so much had happened in the past seven days that it felt longer. I could still feel his grasp, his scent, how he made me feel wanted and sexy. It was amazing that even after my husband and I had sex so many times the past few days, especially when our usual amount is once a week, there was still a bit of want left in me. Brian wanted me more. I was sexier, more confident and it was because I had done something so out of context. So unusual and freeing.

As felonious as I felt about the event, I hoped not to lose that feeling. That sounds terrible coming from a married woman who is admitting that she isn't being fulfilled by her husband alone.

On my way out the door, I noticed a poster hanging on the wall of the examination room. There was a beautiful young model with stunning brown eyes advertising safe sex. I have seen your beautiful eyes before. I remembered. I've been watching you for quite some time and I am sure I will see them again soon.

For shits and giggles, I grabbed a few condoms from the container below the poster and slid it into the hidden pocket of my purse. Maybe it would be good to keep them as a reminder.

By the time I arrived at my car, I was guilt-stricken because I knew the reasons why I had taken the prophylactic. It wasn't as a reminder. I wasn't anticipating anything, but deep down inside, I wanted it to happen again. I considered tossing the rubbers or turning around and bringing them back to the office, but a part of me wanted them. Brian had always left me sexually satisfied, with the exception of the frequency of our lovemaking. Something was missing and this man fulfilled that empty desire.

The remainder of my morning was filled with mindless errands. A trip to the drug store, gas station, and the bank. On my way home I passed the public library and realized that I had forgotten about the books Jamie had asked for this morning before he left for school. I reached for the oversized wooden handles of the building and opened the door to the waft of a familiar library scent. The red carpet in the lobby was worn and pilled and was in desperate need of rejuvenation. I walked through the wooden stacks of books with old, worn-out hardcovers and heavily stained, varnished tables with green desk lamps. The library was dark and desolate and had the distinct odor of lemon-scented wood polish. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an elderly librarian with silver and white, wavy hair, who appeared as if she should have retired many years prior and made my way over to her at the reference center.

"Good afternoon. How are you?" I asked her, noticing her name badge that read, Edith Byrnes, Library Director.

"Hello, dear. I'm well. Thanks for asking and how can I help you today?" Edith replied.

I looked around the library quickly to see if I could answer my own question but to no avail.

"My son has to do a book report on Hawaii. Can you tell me where your reference section is?"

"Sure, dear. You can find state reference books upstairs in the U.S History section," as she pointed me to the grand staircase.

The steps were covered in green linoleum tiles with yellow and black flecks. I haven't been in this library in years and not much has changed since my last visit.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I found myself in an expansive room which mirrored the image of the library on the first floor. I walked past the Law and Business section and could smell the leather-bound books that looked like they'd hardly been opened. Next came the Classics section with the books with broken spines and cracked bindings. The ones that have been read over and over and showed it. Their musty smell was overpowering but swiftly covered by a familiar scent. I looked around quickly to notice where the smell was coming from, but saw no one. The smell faded as I continued to navigate the library. When I got to the rear corner of the room, I found the U.S. History section and began to thumb through the books, looking for the titles that Jamie had requested. There were so many books there and I had not anticipated such a large selection, so I searched the floor for a card catalog computer.