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So I went into a bar in the center of town. There was a lively crowd of people, most of them much younger than I. But that didn’t matter, I thought, since I was only going to have a glass of wine and enjoy the scene. To my surprise, after a couple of minutes a very pretty young brunette came up to me and asked me if I would buy her a drink. It’s true that I had been admiring her from a distance as she danced with a young man, but I had had no intention of getting her attention. She was in her early twenties, almost two decades younger than I. But it seemed rude to say no, and her perfume was so subtly sweet, and it was a chance to talk in Italian. She got a vermouth, and leaned up against me as she drank. We were about the same height. Franca was wearing a black cotton party dress that was very high in front but showed off her back, where I could see the top of a line of Chinese characters that followed her spine downward into her dress. She had beautiful bare legs and very high. I had shoved two pillows under my naked ass -- my skirt was still bunched up at my waist. I figured I could iron it in the morning. My feet were flat on the mattress with my knees up. I stared at the shadowy ceiling. The only light in the room seeped under my bedroom door from the hall. I lay there hoping my son's sperm swimming inside me would find an egg. But then other thoughts crept into my troubled mind."I enjoyed it," I scolded myself. "It wasn't supposed to be like that. All I wanted was another child. How could things have gone so wrong?"I lifted my head and looked around the bedroom realizing I was talking to myself. And then my head dropped and sunk into my husband's pillow as I thought back to the beginning.Marshal and I had begun fighting. It often revolved around insignificant things, but we both knew the root cause -- although we refused to admit it openly. I wanted another child. We had conceived with Jeff on our honeymoon and thought it would be just as easy two years.
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