Sexcapades

I came home from my studio and immediately settled into a nice hot bath with a glass of wine. Then I put on my comfy sweats and an old T-shirt of Joshua's that I loved and ordered the pizza. I was on my third glass of wine when I spread myself out on the couch in front of my drawing pencils and sketch book and pressed play on the DVD, hoping that the god-awful fashions of the eighties would inspire me to come up with some great designs. I was all set to work when the doorbell rang.

"Damn," I muttered, and went to answer it. Thinking it was the pizza guy, I grabbed my purse, hoping I had enough cash for a good tip, since it was a whole fifteen minutes sooner than they'd told me on the phone.

I swung open the door and was shocked to see my father-in-law.

"Josh!" I cried. "T-this is a surprise." That was an understatement. I could literally count on one hand the number of times Josh had come to our townhouse in the six years Joshua and I had been married, and it occurred to me that in all that time, I had never been alone with him.

"Yes, I imagine it is, may I come in?" Josh stepped inside the house without waiting for my answer, and my heart began to pound. Even after all these years he still made me nervous. The way he spoke always reminded me of Hannibal Lector, very prim and proper and terrifying.

"Joshua isn't here," I said, still holding the door open, hoping this would make him leave.

"Yes, I know, he's going to be away the entire weekend, isn't he? But no matter, it's actually you I've come to see, Miranda." That struck me. He never called me Miranda-always young lady or Miss Wells, my maiden name, and as I reluctantly closed the door I was filled with an impending sense of doom.

"I hope I haven't interrupted something," Josh said, gazing at my drawings.

"Oh, um, no, not-not really," I stammered. "I-I was just working on..."

"I see you've had some wine, perhaps you need another glass," Josh said, gesturing to the half-empty glass on the table. "I'll have one, as well."

"Yes, uh-of course, I should have offered. I'll just go in the kitchen a-and get you some." I hurried off into our kitchen and grabbed a wine glass. I realized I was shaking, and, worried it would break, I set it down on the counter. I needed to get a grip. I couldn't let Josh shake me, I wouldn't. He was probably just here to offer me another bribe to divorce Joshua, and the sooner I told him no, the better. I took a deep breath and counted to ten, then grabbed both the glass and bottle and returned to the living room where Josh had placed himself on the couch. I handed him the glass and poured until he signaled me to stop, then set the bottle down on the coffee table. Josh took a sip and smiled.

"Ah, the seventy-five," he said, admiring the wine bottle. "Truly an excellent year, don't you agree?"

"Yes, I suppose," I said.

"Well, it isn't as if you would know. You weren't even born then were you? You'll join me of course," Josh said, topping off my glass and handing it to me. I took it reluctantly. "Cheers."

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I took a gulp, then set it down.

"Josh," I said as calmly as I could manage. "My guess is you didn't come here to drink with me, so, if you don't mind, why don't you just offer me whatever it is you've come to bribe me with so that I can tell you no. I really do need to get back to work."

Josh turned to me and smiled. "And here I thought I made you nervous. The cat has some claws after all. Very well then, Miranda I will get right to the point. I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that my wife and I have not always looked on you in the kindest regard. You have no family background, no social standing, and quite frankly, you are not the spouse we would have chosen for our son."

Harsh as this was, it wasn't the first time I'd heard it, and I didn't even flinch.

"And yet, despite our numerous efforts, it appears we are stuck with you, as my son is quite taken with you, or so he claims. Pity that. I suspect it has everything to do with what you have on under those ghastly rags."

I was suddenly very aware that I was not wearing a bra, and that the breeze from the fan was making my nipples hard and quite visible through the nearly threadbare fabric. Josh didn't even try to hide his gaze, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of embarrassing me. My blood began to boil and I gripped the arms of the chair as Josh calmly took another sip.

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"What is it you want, Josh?" I asked suddenly bursting out of my chair and placing myself in front of him.

Josh held the stem of the glass between his thumb and index finger, twirling it thoughtfully, admiring the way the light played with the redness of the liquid inside.

"What is it I want?" Josh repeated. He turned to face me. "Why, I want what any man wants my dear, and that is to make his wife happy. And of course nothing would make my Reeve happier than to be rid of you."

Josh stood and walked toward me, backing me against the wall. He reached in his coat and for a moment I was worried he was going to pull out a gun. Instead he pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. But it occurred to me that this just might be something Josh would do as a last resort, and I began to tremble nervously.

"Y-you're not going to kill me, are you?" I asked.

Josh looked at me sharply.

"Kill you!" Josh exclaimed. His eyes burned, but then he laughed, a hard cackle that made my skin crawl. "Well, perhaps that is common practice in the trailer you crawled out from under. My dear, if I were going to kill you, believe me, no one would know, least of all you, silly thing. Killing is so barbaric, and I'd like to think I'm a bit more civilized than that, eh?"