A Little Romance

I stared at his doe-eyes. Those eyes--they were big and brown--and scared, like a deer in crosshairs. Why was I so scary? Was the thought of being with me for life scary? Was it just commitment? I couldn't tell. But there was fear, lots of it. "I was thinking we should go away for the weekend" he began. Now I understood the fear factor. Being alone. something we hadn't done since our honeymoon. Oh... the honeymoon. The romance, the sweetness. The ease of walking hand in hand. The plans for all the fabulousness we had to look forward to. the golden couple, the sweet successes that were ours for the taking.

It hadn't turned out that way. We had been wrong, dead wrong. Now we were going to go away alone together without any of those golden successes. Only the burdens of reality to pack for the trip. Yes, it had to be done. How would we know if we had anything in our hearts and souls left for each other. Or, more importantly, our bodies. How would the sex be? Yikes.

I made all the arrangements. We would go to a Bed and Breakfast on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Supposedly beautiful and romantic. I went online (in those early days of the internet) to book a reservation. Abby, a young woman I worked with, would care for the kids. I knew haviing Abby at home would enable me to relax. An energetic and easy going twenty-four year old--she was young enough to want to "do fun things" with the kids; and old enough to be responsible about getting them to bed on time--or at least close enough.

Friday afternoon, 6pm was departure time. Goodbyes were said, hugs, kisses and directions given, and now we were alone in the car for the two hour drive south to our B and B. Time slowed way down. Small talk about traffic, how the kids would be with Abby, my sister's new and surprising pregnancy, took up the first hour. Then, silence.
"Are you scared?" I finally asked.
"Yes and No" he responded. "Yes, I am scared because we haven't done this in a long time and No because I really want to be doing this"
"How about you?"
"Terrified" I answered. He laughed. One of his core beliefs about us as a couple is that he is always in a nuanced, complex, "grey-zone" and that I forever see things in black-and-white. Therefore, he forever finds examples of that belief. His laugh both annoyed and warmed me.
"He really knows me" I thought. "He does know me".

We arrived in the center of the cute little Eastern shore town called Chestertown at around 8pm. Since it was springtime, it was already quite dark and slightly rainy. We had trouble finding our b and b. It wasn't near anything cute. Following mapquest, we kept driving until we were in the middle of a working-class neighborhood quite off the beaten path of the touristy town. This was were the "townies" lived. The plumbers, electricians, and waitresses that serviced the tourist industry. Not that there's anything wrong with that kind of neighborhood, it just wasn't where I had anticipated re-kindling romance. The "B and B" was one of the few three-story victorian houses in the densly populated neighborhood. There was a car up on blocks in the driveway next door.
"Are you sure this is it?" asked Greg. By now, it was getting close to 9pm and the address was dead-on.
"It must be". I started to panic--it did look like the picture of the house on the internet. I just didn't anticipate its surroundings.
We bit the bullet and went up to the door and rang the bell. As the door began opening, a woman's voice came through first, "we were beginning to think you'd never get here" she greeted. But as the door opened to reveal her full figure, her full figure was revealed. She was massive. Her husband stood next to her. He was about 250, but we could barely catch a glimpse--she dwarfed him.

"You are our only guests tonight and we were just about to give up and go upstairs," she continued, "But please come in--we have plenty of dessert for you". As we entered the house, she showed us around. In every room, there were plates of desserts. Chocolate desserts on the dining room table, puddings and pies on the kitchen table, candies and petit fours on all the end tables in the living room. We hadn't eaten dinner yet, but I began to feel nauseous. We passed on the dessert. Somehow, I was not feeling sexy.

On the stairwell, there was an elevator-chair to enable her to get from floor to floor. With our two little suitcases, we had to fight with it to get up the stairs. She followed us up in the chair to show us to our room. Once in the safely of the cutesy-country decor of our room-- with the door closed, we just stared at each other for a moment. Then we began to giggle. Like a couple of kids in church, we could not stop. Tears fell down our cheeks. This was it, the "new" story of our non-golden marriage. It figured.

The laughing actually helped us break the tension. We discussed how we'd skip out on our reservation for the next night and how we'd make our escape. With that settled, we moved on to the reason for the getaway. It was slow, gentle, familiar, and yes, easy. Relief was palpable on both sides. OK. That was settled. We still "had" it for each other. Although we had never had the fire of other romances, we did have the depth, the sweetness, the soul. It hadn't disappeared. Thank goodness.

The next morning, we had breakfast with our hosts. A few bites of waffles and whipped cream and we were out of there. Now what. We went into Chestertown searching for a new hotel. We weren't about to try another B and B. There was only one hotel in town and it was full. We were about to drive to another little town when Greg suggested we drive back to Philadelphia. For a moment, I was stunned. "What?" I asked, confused.
"Let's go to the Four Seasons" he said.
"Now there's a great idea". I was thrilled. We were back in Philly by noon. Checked into our incredible suite and immediately checked out the firmness of the mattress. Perfection. Aaaahhh. This is where we belonged--if only for a day. The rest of the weekend flew by in a flash.

We had passed our own first test--and actually had a little romance.