"Annie? Oh, Annie? Wherever are you, darling, beautiful wife of mine?" Eric Camden gushed as he peeked around upstairs.
"Are you talking to me?" Annie confronted him with hostility in her voice as she stepped out of the twins' room.
"Yes, I am speaking to you because you speak to me, you sweet, sexy woman."
Annie wrinkled her forehead. "I 'speak' to you? Eric, what on earth are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the curves of your body inside that sweater, and the way the corner of your mouth lifts up into a sensual smirk…" Eric said as he reached out to stroke Annie's cheek.
"How dare you?" Annie protested, slapping his hand away.
Unfazed, Eric continued, "How dare I what? Tell you how much I love you and how unbelievably attractive I find you right now? And how much I want to carry you into our bedroom and make love to you this very instant?"
"Yes, that! How dare you?"
Eric paused to think for a minute. Perhaps the gifts he bore would help to soften her. Tenderly, he said, "I…I brought some wine, and some brownies."
"What? Are you trying to bribe me for sex?"
"No! Not at all. I just…thought it might break the ice a little."
"Oh, so now you're calling me icy?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Well let me tell you something, Eric Camden, darling, beautiful husband of mine," Annie sneered. "You can take that wine, and you can take those brownies, and you can shove them where the sun doesn't shine!" She stomped into their bedroom and slammed the door.
"Mommy's mad at Ruthie and Daddy," Eric heard David's voice from the doorway to the twins' room.
"Don't worry," Eric said, approaching his sons. "Daddy's going to talk to Mommy and make things better."
"Gwape juice," Sam said, pointing to Eric's wine glasses.
"No. Not grape juice." Eric sighed and shook his head. "You two just go back to playing with your blocks, OK? Daddy and Mommy will be in the next room if you need us." Eric started to walk away but hesitated as he decided to amend his last statement. "Actually, if you need someone, why don't you find Lucy instead? Daddy expects to be kind of busy with Mommy for the next half hour. Maybe more."
"I like Lucy," David offered proudly.
Eric nodded and mouthed the word "OK". Then he left the twins, walked over to his bedroom, and rapped lightly on the door.
"Go away!" the response rang loud and clear from inside.
"Not until you let me in!"
"How could you go away if I let you in? Or how could I let you in if you went away? Honestly, Eric, that doesn't even make any sense!"
"Neither does the way we're yelling at each other right now!"
After a pause, the door opened a crack in front of Eric. Annie peeked through the opening and hissed, "You know good and well why we're yelling right now."
"Really, Annie, I don't. Are you feeling underappreciated? Is that it?"
"Sort of. It just…well, it bothers me that you made me feel like Gabrielle was more important than me. The way you didn't want to…you know…earlier because you wanted to find out why she was here instead. And then when you and the kids told me how much better her brownies were than mine?"
"I never said that."
"You implied it. And then you had the nerve to come up here begging for me to make love to you as if nothing had happened. What on earth made you think I would say yes after the way you shot me down cold earlier?"
"I thought you might still be in the mood."
"Well I'm not!"
"Well, maybe the wine and the brownies will help. You know, I've heard that chocolate can elicit a sexual response sometimes."
Annie bit her lip as she thought for a minute. "Really?"
"Yeah. I think I read it in a magazine or something."
"Hmm. So you think that, maybe if you get me drunk and feed me chocolate you'll get me in the sack?"
"That's what I'm hoping." Eric thought he saw the slightest gleam in Annie's eyes.
"You really are feeling frisky right now, aren't you?"
"Yes! I really am. So what do you say?"
A slow, seductive smile spread across Annie's lips as the door opened wide. "I say come on in, you big smooth-talker. You've got some making up to do!"
***
They faced each other on the bed, his head at the foot and hers on the pillows. Minutes passed quickly as they sipped their wine, each watching the other adoringly and contemplating a first move all the while.
The wine glasses emptied themselves much faster than Eric had anticipated. "Wait here. I'll go grab the bottle."
"Hurry back!" Annie pleaded.
Eric heeded.
***
Upon his return, he poured them each a fresh glass.
After several more minutes of mutual admiration and seductive staring, the glasses had somehow gone empty again.
Eric poured two more glasses.
By noontime, the bottle sat empty on the nightstand.
***
Strong.
He felt like he was.
Stronger than before the heart surgery; not the most recent surgery but the first surgery.
Strong like when he was young, and he had first met the free-spirited blond with whom he had just known he would spend the rest of his life.
Passion unlike he had felt since then; he felt it again now as he laid on the bed, watching her, admiring her feminine features while he fed her brownies by hand, letting her lap the chocolate off his fingers with long, languorous licks.
"You are inside me," he heard himself say to her. "And I want to be inside you."
"I want you inside me," a breathless voice responded.
His moist fingers found their way to the base of her sweater, lifting it gently over her head. Her lips pressed against his own while his fingers circled around her hips to the small of her back, swirling there momentarily before dancing their way up to undo her bra clasp.
The bra slid to the floor and two mounds of heaving flesh pressed themselves against his chest. His lips slid down her chin, gently across her neck, down her chest, to taste the tip of one of the heaving mounds. Her body quivered as a low, quiet moan of pleasure escaped from her lips.
Her fingers – still delicate and feminine after so many years – opened his top button, releasing his neck from the prison of his collar. One by one the buttons opened, revealing the scar tissue of two surgeries. She traced her fingers amorously across his repaired chest, trailing through the light forest of hair that had grown back since his latest operation.
His hands dropped across her stomach down to her waist, aching to remove the fabric walls, which prevented them from becoming one. Her hands dropped down too to help him speed up the process.
And then he entered her. For the first time in months, perhaps years, he remembered what it was like to be inside her, to want to be there, and to be welcome there. He remembered the warmth and love that had once been there.
He remembered the way he felt that day in the church so many years ago when they had exchanged their vows. He remembered the passion and strength he felt in his heart for her as he said, "I do". He remembered the way it felt to finally consummate their marriage that night in the hotel room, the passion and strength in his heart, and the love in hers. He remembered, and a silent tear of joy slid down his cheek.
For that afternoon, by some stroke of magic or miracle of God, in the bed he hadn't planned on leaving all day, for the first time in months, perhaps years, he knew without a doubt that the passion and strength had returned to his heart, and the love had returned to hers.