35,000 Feet above Central Africa: 13:00 Thursday 4th January 2018
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just commenced our descent into Lagos International Airport. Could you please return to your seats, put your seats upright, and stow any tables and electrical devices you’ve been using. Please ensure your seat belt is buckled up as our cabin crew will now start collecting up the headsets.”
To a weary traveler, these words are as familiar as the rosary to a devout Catholic, or as the words of the Talmud to an Orthodox Jew.
Forty-eight years of conditioned responses had imbued in me a natural obedience. So I buckled up and meekly obeyed the sundry other instructions. All the time looking forward and right to the handsome couple seated just in front of me. The handsome couple in seats 8A and 8B. A couple I’d barely been able to tear my eyes from for the last ten hours.
The couple had spent much of the last ten hours chatting and laughing. At other times they’d been content to just be together. Holding hands, watching a movie as her head nestled comfortably on his broad shoulder. Despite my best efforts at discretion, they and most probably the cabin crew knew I’d been watching them. The cabin crew were trained to be discrete and diplomatic and said nothing. Not even a smirk or a raised eyebrow.
The couple themselves were a different matter. They’d made no sign or signal because they knew this was all part of the game we’d agreed to play. For the next week and a half. A game of marital musical chairs. They knew I’d been watching them, and at times they’d played to the audience. At other times they’d just been themselves, forgetting I was even there, sharing the natural closeness developed in their relationship these last few weeks.
As they buckled up, for maybe the tenth time, they shared a passionate open-mouthed kiss. The Business Class section was sparsely populated. There was only one other passenger aside from the couple and me. Which meant we were only attended by two cabin crew, both attractive air stewardesses of differing ages. After one particularly passionate and long kiss, I’d heard the younger stewardess speculating to her boss that maybe they were a honeymooning couple. They looked so in love. The older stewardess had gently corrected her, pointing out that the lady in 8A wasn’t wearing any wedding band or engagement ring. So they were most likely not honeymooners.
As I’d eavesdropped this conversation, I’d furtively opened my right hand and looked at the three rings I held. The rings Sue had symbolically given me as we’d headed to departures at JFK and started the game, knowing these next ten days would seem a very long time.
It was Sue who had added this symbolic gesture with the rings to the game. Pretty much all other parts we’d agreed only a couple of days before, when we’d finally agreed to Francis’ request to spend some time with him in Nigeria.
Sue and I had agreed that for the week and a half we were going to be in Nigeria, Sue would be Francis’ woman, rather than my wife. His girlfriend from his home in the States. That’s how we’d roll in terms of sleeping arrangements and the introductions to friends and family and whenever we were out in public. And me, I’d be Francis’ friend. A good friend from New York, here to help a friend through a hard time.
Sue and I hadn’t dreamt up this game in one single Eureka moment. Rather it had built up gradually. Layer by layer, decision by decision. Like some warped onion or Russian doll.
The first layer was the foundation. The decision as to whether or not we’d accompany Francis to Lagos at all. Both of us had busy lives, but by a quirk of fate, Sue’s work calendar meant that what Francis had requested was a logistical possibility. Things were always quiet over Christmas and New Year in terms of elective surgery at Sue’s hospital; both customers and surgeons preferring vacations over scalpels. This year the hospital had taken the opportunity to extend the quiet period by shutting two theaters down for much-needed modernization. Meaning they were looking for volunteers to take unpaid leave. So for Sue to take some time off to travel to Lagos was a decided possibility.
Things also happened to be pretty quiet for me. Quite a large part of our team was on vacation, and most of what I did need to do was capable of being done remotely. With these two stars falling into alignment, there were no logistical blockers from Sue and I falling in with Francis’ request.
So instead, it soon evolved into a discussion about whether we thought it was a wise thing to do. Francis was a dear friend who was going through the painful experience of dealing with the last part of his mum’s life. So it didn’t take much discussion for us to agree that we wanted to be there as friends for him at this difficult time.
All of which just left the thorny issue of the ‘ground rules’ between the three of us while we were in Nigeria. Which boiled down to two key questions: What would the sleeping arrangements be? And how would Francis introduce Sue and me to his friends and family?
And this is where a practical discussion morphed into the kinky game we’d been playing since the departure area at JFK. Sue knew all about my favorite fantasies and erotic stories. And she knew several of my favorites involved situations where the wife pretended to be with her lover during a trip or holiday or night out. So with a lightness of touch worthy of a surgeon rather than a head nurse, she’d floated the question of whether I’d be excited to play the same game for the week and a half we’d be away in Nigeria. In a place where we could play this game with seemingly little or no risk of discovery or damage.
Of course, as soon as Sue mentioned her idea, I needed barely the slightest of nudges. And that’s why I’d spent the last ten hours hardly able to tear my eyes away from Sue and Francis. Mr. and Mrs. 8A and 8B. The misidentified honeymooners. The handsome couple whose romantic intensity had been the source of speculation for the oh-so-bored cabin crew. So much more interesting than speculating about the lonely business traveler in seat 10D. The strange guy who kept gawping at the handsome couple in 8A and 8B.
The last twelve hours had been bittersweet torment. From the moment Sue had smiled wickedly, handed me the three rings from her ring finger and given me a last hug.
“See you in ten days,” she’d teased as the hug ended and she kissed me on the cheek, before turning to take Francis’ hand as the two of them walked together towards security and the airside lounges.
I waited a few seconds before following them, enjoying the sexy sway of Sue’s short skirt as she wiggled towards the X-ray station. I could already see a couple of security guys standing to the side and enjoying the scenery. Sue’s choice of heels, short skirt, and low-cut blouse guaranteeing help and attention from plenty of male members of staff.
I was close enough to see the way Sue enjoyed their attention and flirted with them. I felt a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach as I realized how much Sue was enjoying this game. Her body language telling the airport staff she was with the large distinguished black man, at the same time as her thrust out bosom and pulled back shoulders told them she liked to tease and play. With a ten-hour shift to complete, they enjoyed the game nearly as much as she did.
Safely through security, my mouth was dry and my hands clammy as I again took up station a dozen paces behind the striking couple, Sue’s sexy wiggle still holding my gaze with its hypnotic rhythm. If this was how the game felt twenty minutes in, I was going to be a nervous wreck with a terminal heart condition after ten whole days of this torture.
Waiting in the lounge, Sue managed to find a couple more imaginative ways of twisting the knife. In an otherwise empty lounge, she managed to find seats for her and Francis which were a little distant and didn’t allow me to sit near them. I saw her smile to Francis, immediately understanding its meaning. And then a few minutes later as I was minding my own business, pouring myself a coffee, I heard Sue’s voice just behind me.
“Where are you headed to today? Anywhere exotic? My boyfriend and I are off to Lagos.”
Shit. She was really twisting it. Playing make believe that she didn’t even know me. Twenty-five years wiped away. Turning to look into her beaming face, I nearly broke free. ‘What are you doing? This is too much,’ I nearly told her. But instead, I stayed in character, chatting about my upcoming trip as if this woman wasn’t my wife and mother of my child.
The game lasted throughout the entire flight. A flight that seemed to go on forever, punctured by episodes which tested and excited me in equal measure.
The two hours they spent snuggled up under airline blankets watching a movie together. The long conversation they had with the younger stewardess when she quizzed them on how they’d met and how long had they been together. Sue knew damn well I was listening to every painful word, stringing it out, asking the stewardess if she had ‘anyone special’ in her life. The time Sue’s hand disappeared under the blanket into the warmth of Francis’ lap, the shape, and movement underneath telling me exactly what Sue was up to.
And the coup-de-grace. When with barely any discretion, first Francis and then Sue headed into the larger of the cabin toilets. Re-emerging nearly half-an-hour later looking satisfied, with Sue having added another sexual first to her carnal bucket list.
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Safely through immigration and customs, we were met by their family driver, Michael. I was invited to sit up front while Sue and Francis took the back seat. Francis did the introductions, introducing Sue as ‘his girlfriend’ and me as ‘a good friend he’d met through Sue.’
These introductions were repeated when we arrived and we met Francis’ sister, Kebe, and his ailing mother, Winnie. As I saw how the illness had hollowed out Winnie’s body and how she bravely fought on, just for a few minutes I totally forgot the pain and excitement of our game. The lounge we were standing in was littered with photos from happier days. Seeing the contrast between these pictures, filled with life and joy, and this woman standing there on the last lap of life was a deeply moving moment. It made me think of the stupidity of our little game. Made me think that even losing nine days with Sue would be nine days I’d regret when life brought me to the same stage as Winnie. Winnie would surely have given anything for another nine days with her late husband. And yet I was voluntarily giving away the same precious gift I’d received.
The introductions over, Winnie slowly walked us to our rooms, and I saw that I’d been put in the room which was next to Francis and Sue’s room. There was even an interconnecting door, with Winnie explaining that her late husband had designed the house to include linked rooms for when guests with children stayed. With a chuckle, she explained that most people in Africa had large families and that she and her late husband had been the exception with only three children. Naturally enough, she asked me if I had kids, and I felt a little embarrassed to admit I only had one child. Sue had mostly been quiet since arriving, but couldn’t resist adding that she also only had one child. Winnie gripped her hand and with a ‘woman-to-woman’ smile that seemed to exclude the rest of us, looked into Sue’s eyes.
“Never mind. A strong and beautiful young woman like you. It’s never too late. Maybe you and Francis will make a baby. After all, he never had problems that way with his first wife.”
Hearing these words was like a blade appearing from nowhere and suddenly being thrust deep into my gut. I felt the blood draining from my face and desperately hoped that Francis’ mother wouldn’t notice my reaction.
The game continued throughout the rest of that day. It was sweet torture to just hang out with Francis and his family and to feel so near and yet so far from Sue. I was treated to a repeat of the ‘Francis and Sue’ origin story that Sue had told the young stewardess. Only this time it was supercharged and on steroids. With full Dolby surround sound as Sue gushed about how all the nurses had thought how handsome Francis was. And how they all wanted to console him after he lost Heidi. With ideas of consoling growing into more lurid thoughts of what they’d like to do with the handsome widowed doctor. And how Sue and Francis had finally got together after a couple of years of just being friends.
Inevitably, Francis’ mother asked how come a woman as beautiful and intelligent as Sue didn’t already have a husband. With a performance worthy of an Oscar, Sue blushed and said that her husband was ‘no longer in the picture’. Ouch. That stiletto blade was getting good use today.
All three of us were feeling the effects of jet lag and so we said our goodnights and retired around eight o’clock. The loving couple played their parts to perfection as Francis clapped my shoulder and bid me goodnight, with Sue giving me a platonic kiss on the cheek and a similar farewell as we headed into our separate bedrooms.
As the door shut with a resounding thud, I threw myself onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if I could cope with another nine days of this self-imposed torture. Watching Sue and Francis playing the doting couple was pressing all of my fantasy buttons like a virtuoso pianist. But at the same time, it was the most painful thing I could ever remember experiencing. The only thing that came close was when a four-year-old Donovan had fallen from a window and we’d sat there panic-stricken and helpless as the doctors tested our sobbing and strapped up little boy for permanent damage.
The silence coming from their room seemed impossibly oppressive, like a heavy metallic weight on my chest, until I heard the confusing sound of a single metal click. As I scanned my room, I saw the connecting door was now slightly ajar, and I understood. They were throwing me a lifeline as I heard their voices through the gap.
“I thought we’d never get to be alone. Your mother and your friend Pete never seemed to stop talking.” Even now, Sue was still in character. The last twenty-five years wiped away as if they’d never been.
And then the sound of kissing and lips forced together after so many hours of best behavior.
“Mmmm, I’d forgotten how good you taste,” Sue giggled. “No wonder I couldn’t resist on the plane. What do they call it? The mile-high club? I hope they don’t have security cameras in there.”
Finally, Francis deep voice joined the conversation. “You’re a wicked woman, Mrs. Jones. I thought that young stewardess was going to die of shame when you winked at her when we came out together. She was so close she must have heard everything. Especially with the racket you were making.”
I heard Sue’s giggle through the opened door as she remembered back to her inaugural mile-high sex session.
More kissing sounds as I quietly padded barefoot to the crack in the door. As I peeked through, I saw a picture of closeness and intimacy. Francis was laying in the middle of the bed with his top half propped up against the headboard, with Sue sat a leg either side and astride his lap. Sue’s head was facing away from me, but the angle of her head told me she was gazing back at Francis’ smiling face.
I realized that Sue’s opening of the door was her way of throwing me a bone. Trying to keep me just the right side of the border between sanity and insanity. And I spent the next half-hour getting my fix as I watched and listened to the two lovers. It was like welcoming home an old friend into my vein. Weak with excitement, I supported my weight against the door frame with my heart pounding hard as I watched Sue and Francis make love. Their affair had been going on now for nearly ten weeks and my mind buzzed at the thought of how good they looked together.
Fully clothed at the airport and on the airplane, I’d thought what an attractive and well-matched couple they made. But now totally naked I was struck by the way they touched and enjoyed each others’ bodies. Two and a half years of yearning and anticipation now made real. A couple who knew exactly where to touch and when to tease and when to thrust. I felt giddy and sick at the same time, knowing I’d never reach these same physical heights with Sue. I knew her feelings for me were stronger than her feelings for Francis. But just as I knew this truth, I also knew the truth that she yearned for his touch and his body more than she yearned for mine. I had Sue’s heart, but all three of us knew he was the superior lover and that the two of them together reached places I’d never see.
Sue’s body had belonged to me for twenty-five years. I’d had a good run. Maybe better than I deserved with a woman who was so out of my league. But as I watched the way their hips and bodies moved together in near perfect harmony, like a mare and her champion jockey, I knew Sue’s body belonged to Francis.
It wasn’t an invented, maudlin thought which would pass when Sue and I were reunited. And it wasn’t an exaggerated thought, that Sue and I would never enjoy sweet love-making together. But it was an honest thought that I’d been bested by another man. A smart, charismatic and lovable doctor who’d bested me as my wife’s physical mate. And I just had to hope that her heart wouldn’t one day follow where her body led.
Before, at some times during our three-way relationship, things had swung too far into the pain zone. But this wasn’t one of those moments. They say that sometimes the truth will set you free. This was one of those moments. A moment of lucid, frightening truth. But a moment that focused me on the battle to come. To make sure that Sue and I stuck to our plans to make sure the physical intensity of her relationship with Francis, and their growing emotional closeness didn’t undermine our own love and marriage.
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When I’d finished watching their bravura sexual performance, a weird part of me felt like giving them a standing ovation. The way Francis had brought Sue to so many intense peaks was both amazing and intimidating. As he at first possessed my wife’s body and then possessed her mind by keeping her suspended In mid-air on a continuous wave of pleasure. Until finally she submitted and gave him her all, clinging to her man with both arms and legs, entrapping her man until she’d milked him dry.
As they slowly came down from their shared high, I wondered how many times I’d see this scene play out before me before I knew the pleasure of being inside Sue’s body again. Unlike my earlier thoughts, this was a melancholy thought. But one I had to abruptly stop as Sue came towards the door.
I scurried back to my bed and feigned sleep. Feeling slightly relieved but also excluded and alone by the finality of the metal click as the door’s locking mechanism latched home. Creating a barrier, with Sue and Francis on one side of the barrier and only me on the other side. The heightened sense of exclusion was beginning to hurt when from somewhere I suddenly recalled our two rooms shared a common balcony. With the aircon on full blast, the big sliding door was closed. I quietly pulled it open and eased my way onto the balcony.
My heart leaped as I realized that they’d chosen natural ventilation and so I could clearly hear their voices through their matching and very open sliding door. I inched along so my ears were as close to their voices as I dared go, stilled my breathing and listened in. Excited, that for the first time since we’d left New York I’d be observing the genuine Sue and Francis. No exaggerated performance or acting for the kinky husband. The pure, unvarnished and true Sue and Francis.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Sue’s voice asked with a tone which showed her nervous concern.
“I think he’s fine. He wanted to play. And this is his number one fantasy, or something like it,” Francis’ voice very different to Sue’s. Very matter of fact and with no hint of concern or even empathy. The hard voice a father uses to a son. ‘It will do him good. Toughen him up. Make a man of him.’ That sort of voice that sons the world over have heard from their fathers, and then gone on to unknowingly parrot to their own sons.
“I guess,” Sue’s voice telling me she didn’t totally buy-in to what Francis said. Still possessed of residual concerns and worries.
“You know he loves to watch us together. It’s what he lives for. I don’t get it myself. And I’m not sure you really get it, honey. But it’s a scientific fact. Pete-eus Voyeur-eus, to give it its proper Latin medical name.”
Sue giggled at Francis’ joke, and I felt a stab of jealousy and hurt at the mockery.
“I guess you’re right. Like you say, why else would he have agreed. And I know he loves reading stories like this.” This time Sue’s voice sounded decidedly less worried.
Then there was a moaning sound from Sue. “Mmmm … oh yes … that feels very nice, doctor.”
As Sue’s voice trailed off but her moans of contentment grew, I guessed that Francis was playing with her sensitive nipples. Sue’s moans and sighs built up, only silenced by Francis.
“I’ve not finished with you yet, Mrs. Etebo. I’ve got plans for you tonight. Before I’m done with you and I let you get some rest.”
Sue giggled like a love-struck teenager. “Promises, promises. Mmmm … Mrs. Etebo … I like the sound of that …. Doctor and Mrs. Etebo, M.D. … it’s got quite a ring to it,” she chuckled.
Deep down I knew it was only playful banter. But hearing these words caused my pain and adrenaline to spike into the stratosphere. The words only summarized the game I’d agreed to play. But hearing our situation summarized in such a bald and direct way felt like ten-thousand needles being pushed into my chest and stomach. My head throbbed with the old saying ‘many a true word said in jest’.
Part of me was grateful that Sue and Francis’ discussion tailed off as Francis got his second wind and toyed with Sue’s body until he was once again re-charged and ready to possess her again. But part of me felt hung out to dry as my brain had no verbal distractions from the last words it had heard. So my addled brain just repeated it over and over again to the backing soundtrack of Sue’s moans and cries of pleasure as Francis lay between her legs and pleasured her all over again. ‘Mrs. Etebo … it’s got quite a ring to it … Mrs. Etebo … it’s got quite a ring to it … Mrs. …’
I’d been trying to keep quiet, but with everything now happening, this was impossible. I was virtually hyperventilating as these words ricocheted around my brain. The words were like some malevolent shrapnel, speeded up by Sue’s moans and cries of ecstasy. Part of me wanted to shrink back into my room and block it all out. But the moth part of me was drawn to the pain and I just stood there listening, until with a final cry of submission from Sue I knew that they were finally done. That she’d rewarded her lover for his performance, allowing him to pump his virile seed deep into her body again.
In my position on the balcony, I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were now both spent. And that’s exactly how I felt as I slunk back to my room and collapsed on my bed. Sucking in huge gulps of air as I tried to calm myself. I closed my eyes and forced myself to remember all the positive things Sue had said to me over the last few months. Since her affair with Francis had re-started. All the times she’d said that she loved me and that we’d always be closer than she and Francis were.
These forced memories were some type of salve to the pain I was feeling. They helped, but they weren’t enough. So after some indecision and hesitation, I picked up my phone and did the only thing I could.
Sue, honey, could you pop through. Need a bit of TLC. P xxx
I tried to keep it light-hearted and not sound too desperate. But I needed more than remembered words. I needed to be physically with Sue and to hear her voice. Talking to me, not to Francis.
I was super relieved when I heard that by now familiar metal snick as the connecting door opened and I saw Sue’s shape in the dark as she came across to the bed. I moved over to make room for her.
“Are you okay, honey?” the care and concern in her tone having an immediate calming effect on me.
I needed a couple more deep breaths before I could answer her.
“I’m okay,” I semi-lied. “It’s just I needed to re-connect a little. It’s been quite some day, and I just needed a little reassurance. That’s all.”
I didn’t feel I could come clean about what I’d heard that had set me off. Maybe that would keep for another day when I was more ready and able to discuss this. But not now. I didn’t have the strength. And I certainly didn’t want a fight about snooping and eavesdropping.
Sue wrapped her arms around me and gave me a soft and loving kiss.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine. This is just what the doctor ordered,” immediately regretting my choice of words and glad the darkness meant Sue couldn’t see my blushing face.
Another hug, longer this time. Another kiss. Sue looked into my eyes, as far as the darkness allowed.
“If you’re sure, honey.”
I kissed Sue to give her the answer.
“Okay then. If you’re sure, I’d better be heading back next door. We don’t want Francis’ mum or sister catching us bed-hopping.”
Sue’s shape was moving back across the room before I had a chance to give her a last hug and kiss. But at least I had the memories and the scent of her perfume and body to keep me company as I struggled to get some semblance of sleep.
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The next day brought a welcome new house guest who went a long way to push some of my worries to the back of my mind. The news about the new house guest was shared with everyone at breakfast.
The five of us were sat in the dining room enjoying a traditional Nigerian breakfast. Francis had prevailed on Sue to wear a skimpy white bikini top and matching beach skirt which showed off her big breasts to maximum effect. We’d known from when we first met Francis that his family wasn’t the typical conservative Nigerian family by the way they’d so readily accepted Francis dating and then marrying a white foreigner, Heidi.
This modern attitude was on show during breakfast as Francis’ mother and sister showed no hesitation in complimenting Sue on her fine ‘bosoms’, before shamelessly quizzing Sue as to what the surgery was like and how it felt afterward. Francis’ sister Kebe, who was about the same age as Sue, said she’d sometimes wondered about having similar breast augmentation surgery, as she was dissatisfied with her sagging breasts after nursing four children.
What followed was a surreal conversation as the three women discussed the ins and outs of breast enlargement and all related topics. Saline vs. Silicone. The pros and cons of different shapes and sizes. Recovery times, loss or heightening of sensitivity, impacts on nursing. The pros of more male attention versus the cons that some men looked at you as a bit more slutty, or maybe became obsessed about your big boobs.
At the start, Sue was a bit self-conscious, but by the end, she was thoroughly enjoying being the center of attention and I think Kebe was more than halfway to convincing herself she wanted to get a pair of breasts just like Sue’s.
When this abnormal breakfast conversation finally died down, with a big grin Francis announced that Michael, the family driver would be returning from the airport with a mystery visitor in a few minutes. However hard we tried, he wouldn’t be drawn on the identity of the mystery visitor.
I thought it must be someone to do with his family. Maybe one of his kids, come to see their grandmother. Or some long lost relative or friend. Not in a million years would I have guessed who it turned out to be. The final twist was that when she got out of the Etebo family SUV she was wearing an identical bikini and skirt to that worn by Sue.
Grace’s smile lit up the room, and I felt a special pride and happiness that I was the first one she smiled at and the one she smiled longest at. Grace was her normal natural and sweet self as she did the rounds hugging and shaking hands as appropriate.
When she’d greeted everyone, she returned to me for a second hug and a kiss on the lips. Francis turned to his confused mother and sister.
“Grace is Pete’s girlfriend. He met her when he was working in Malawi. Sue and I managed to help her get a scholarship to study nursing in New York. So it’s just like one of those old Disney fairytales, where the Prince overcomes all the odds and gets his Princess in the end. And you know what an old romantic I am. As Sue and I are so happy, I couldn’t resist playing cupid and helping out my buddy. After all, what kind of a friend and host would I be if Sue and I are all lovey-dovey and poor Pete has no-one.”
Being generous, Francis’ story was about half of the truth. But his mum and sister knew no better and so they were soon peppering Grace and me with all kinds of questions about how we’d met, our relationship and what the future might hold when Grace was studying in New York. True to form, there were even a few bawdy comments from Winnie and Kebe about the age difference between Grace and me. About how keeping up with a sexy African girl like Grace might kill me with pleasure. But at least I’d die with a smile on my face.
After breakfast and the lengthy inquisition about Grace and me, Francis insisted on showing us the tourist highlights of Lagos. I’d seen many of them before, but both Sue and Grace were interested to see them. After a light lunch in town and some more sightseeing, we returned to the family home, and it was just about the right temperature for everyone to head to the pool.
Winnie and Kebe were content to just sit poolside and chat, whereas both Sue and Grace insisted on dragging Francis and me into the pool. I wasn’t complaining as I was in hog heaven. Watching Sue and Francis with all of the kicks that gave me, with Grace’s sexy young body pressed tight against me as she did her best to subtly tease and excite me without overstepping the boundaries.
Sue was playing a similar game with Francis, whose sister and mother pretended not to notice too much what was going on. But even they gave up this charade as Sue, her wet bikini leaving little to the imagination, pulled Francis out of the pool and towards the house. With a non-too-subtle declaration to anyone who was listening that they’d be back in about an hour or so.
Luckily, the bedroom they shared didn’t face onto the pool. So the four of us who were left were spared the embarrassment of listening to the oohs and aahs that were no doubt coming from the bedroom as Francis once again took ‘his girlfriend’ to the heavens and back.
The four of us left by the pool chatted about all manner of topics. Winnie’s late husband, Kebe’s husband and family, Grace’s family in Malawi, my work and son. All of these and many other topics kept us occupied for the near two hours until a very satisfied Sue and smug looking Francis rejoined us.
I’d already clocked Kebe and Francis as having a very close and humorous relationship, where sibling teasing was very much the normal currency. As my satisfied looking wife led Francis by the hand back towards the pool, Kebe couldn’t resist. “What’s up brother of mine. Does it take a little longer these days? Is old-age finally catching up with you?”
Francis was the very opposite of being embarrassed. He took his sister’s jibe as an opportunity for some gentle sexual bragging.
“Au contraire, little sis. I can’t help it if Sue can’t resist my animal magnetism.” Gesturing at his body from top to bottom. “If she can’t get enough of this grade A Nigerian beefsteak.”
His mother and sister burst out in laughter. “Francis Xavier Etebo. Where were you when they were handing-out manners. That a son of mine should talk like that in front of his old mother.”
All three of them just grinned at each other. Even Sue, who might have been embarrassed by the conversation, looked relaxed and happy as she led Francis back into the pool where they could relax and cuddle some more.
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Away from the reality and pressures of New York, the next few days were a veritable cocktail of different experiences which fully justified our decision to come over to Nigeria. It was nearly a week and a half of flavors and tastes and experiences of many different types.
Sure, there was enjoyment of the bittersweet game we were playing with Francis and Sue. But actually one of the most treasured parts of the trip for me was getting to know Francis’ mother, Winnie. She was eighty-five years old and was a remarkable woman who’d lived a full and rich life. Getting to know her in the twilight of her life was truly an honor and a privilege. One of the most remarkable things was the grace and equanimity with which she was approaching the end of her life. Like her late husband, she was a devout Catholic. Albeit one with an earthy sense of humor. Like her son Francis, she’d trained as a doctor and had been one of the first female doctors in the country. She knew full well that she only had a few weeks to live, but she was determined to fight through the pain and effects of the medications to make the most of her last time.
We ended up spending quite some time talking, and it was fascinating to hear her reminiscences about Nigeria in the colonial era and what it had been like in the early years of independence. Her tired and heavily medicated eyes really came to life when we discussed the progress her country had made, particularly in the fields of healthcare and education. Her other favorite topic was, unsurprisingly, her family. She was obviously very proud of her eldest child Francis and his three children in America. Of course, we discussed the sadness that had been the death of Francis’ beloved wife, Heidi. But Winnie was philosophical about it. Choosing to celebrate the joy and years that Francis and Heidi had shared and the three wonderful children that were a perpetual reminder to both her and her son of Heidi.
Winnie explained that growing up where and when she did, and working in underfunded hospitals for many years, having such an attitude was the only way to maintain your sanity and avoid being dragged down by so many sadnesses. I thought this was a wonderful attitude and wondered if I would have been able to maintain such a positive outlook if I’d seen some of the things Winnie had seen in her life.
One of the strangest conversations I had with Winnie related to Francis and Sue. With hindsight, I maybe shouldn’t have been so surprised at the conversation that took place two days before returning to New York. The others had all headed off sightseeing and it was just Winnie and me left in the family home. We were just sharing a pot of a rich, full-bodied Kenyan coffee when Winnie fixed me with a knowing look.
“You know, Pete. Forgive me for asking, but there’s something strange about the way you look at Sue.”
She held my gaze with a poker stare as she awaited my response. I’ve never been a great liar or bluffer, and intuitively I knew she’d guessed our secret. She was just being half-way diplomatic about it. I stared into her eyes as I decided what to do. Our eyes locked together, I knew there was no point trying to bluff or change the subject.
“I think you’ve worked it out already, haven’t you, Winnie?”
Those intelligent but tough eyes softened a bit, giving me some reward for not lying to her or treating her like a fool as some treat the old.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever understand the younger generation, Pete. Why would a man have a wife as beautiful and lovely as Sue and then share her with another man? A man like my son, Francis Xavier.”
I shrugged my shoulders. But there was something in her words that nagged at me. “What do you mean, a man like your son Francis?”
Her eyes still locked on mine, I could see the cogs going around as she chose her words.
“I love my son very much, Pete. And when he lost Heidi it nearly broke him. If he hadn’t needed to stay strong for the children, I think he might well have given up altogether.”
Winnie paused before continuing. “But I’ve seen the way he looks at Sue. And the way she looks at him. And ever since he was a young boy, he’s always been headstrong and very stubborn and determined. He’s always gone after what he wanted and hasn’t stopped until he gets it.”
The implication of what Winnie was saying didn’t need to be spelled out. But Winnie wasn’t a woman of half-measures or half-sentences, and so she did indeed spell it out.
“Pete, I may be an old woman, but I’ve seen plenty and I think I’m a pretty good judge of human nature. And I like you, Pete, and I never like to see a marriage break up. And that’s why I’m telling you that even though he’s my son, I hope you’re ready for the fight of your life to keep Sue.”
Over the last three months, I’d grown adept at kicking the ball into the long grass. At kicking today’s problem to tomorrow, and kicking tomorrow’s problem to next week or next month. But sitting opposite this old woman with the wise eyes and the uncompromising truths was something else.
She reminded me of my own mother. The same hard-won wisdom and pathos. And so I found myself opening up. Opening up about everything. About my life-long fantasies. About the false-start with Francis two and a half years ago. About the painful experience with Brandon. And about the last two and a half months. About Malawi, Grace and the rules and guidelines Sue and I had put in place.
Winnie listened patiently, mostly without interruption, just asking the odd perceptive question. When I was done she spoke quietly.
“Pete, you and Sue are obviously not stupid people. And you obviously love each other. And I can tell that you’re good people. People who aren’t selfish and who don’t like hurting others.”
You always know when there’s a ‘but’ coming. And this was one of those sentences.
“But I just hope that the two of you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew. You’re playing a dangerous game. You’re playing with fire. The Good Lord, in all his wisdom, made man and woman to be together. One man with one woman. And when you play loose and free with that, you invite trouble.”
She leaned across and squeezed my hand as she continued. “I don’t deny that what the four of you are doing isn’t exciting. I’m sure it is. And after twenty-five years any couple needs to keep the spark alive. But I just hope and pray that the four of you don’t burn the house down. I hope and pray that none of you get hurt in these games. I’d hate to see Francis with a second broken heart in his life. I’d hate to see you with a broken heart, Pete.”
With a final squeeze of my hand, I sensed that Winnie was done. Save for a final labored movement across the table as she kissed me on the forehead, almost as if she was bestowing a blessing on me as one of her own.
As she leaned back, still holding my hand, we just looked into each others’ eyes. The talking was done. But there was a bond there which hadn’t existed before. A bond that hoped the future would treat us well, rather than cause pain to both of us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the others returned from their site-seeing, the mood changed as they were all excited from their day and some of the purchases Sue and Grace had made. They were all so giddy they didn’t notice the slightly subdued mood I was in. It was only later that night when Grace and I were in bed that she picked up on it.
“Penny for your thoughts?” my sexy young Malawian partner asked.
I looked across at her, glad that someone had finally noticed and was soon giving Grace a summary of my conversation with Winnie. Grace has that ability to switch between playful kitten or serious friend, depending on the situation and how the mood takes her. She listened patiently as I retraced the earlier conversation, and it struck me how despite the more than sixty year age gap between them, there was a similar hard-won wisdom between Grace and Winnie. I guess they’d both seen some of the harder things life has to offer.
When I’d finished, I simply asked, “What do you think?”
Grace burrowed her sexy little body closer still and turned her pretty face upward to look at me. There was real emotion and feeling in those deep brown eyes of hers, as I waited with bated breath for her thoughts.
She reached up and stroked my face, kissing me softly which only made me feel more nervous about what she was about to say.
“I think Winnie’s a very wise lady who’s seen it all before, and I think she knows her son better than anyone alive. But what she doesn’t know is you and Sue. And that’s really the heart of this thing.”
I remained silent, knowing from her breathing that Grace wasn’t done. “Pete, from what I’ve seen of you, you’ve got a world class talent to push things you don’t want to think about to a place where you can ignore them. And I say that because I don’t think Winnie’s telling you anything you don’t already know about Francis. You’ve known all along that he’d steal Sue from you in a heartbeat. Sure, he’s a nice guy and he’d feel guilty about it. But he’d do it without a second thought and then apologize afterward.”
She was just getting warmed up. “I’ve told so as much in pretty much the same words. But for whatever reasons, the two of you continue to play the game. And I know the two of you love each other more than life itself. And so the only way I can make it out is that the two of you believe or know that the pull of your love is stronger than Francis’ desire to pull the two of you apart.”
How did a girl so young have such wisdom? Having given me a final kiss, she smiled and finished. “And from what I know, the whole risk and danger is a big, big part of the thrill and excitement for you, Mr. Peter Jones. And you really need to be honest with yourself and honest with Sue about that. Without that danger, I think you’d be far less interested in your little game. And the closer you go the edge, the more terrified you are but the more the excitement and adrenaline floods through your veins. Face it, Pete, you’re a danger junkie. Some people go mountain climbing, and some people jump out of a plane or hang glide. But you, your weapon of choice is pushing the woman you love into bed with a man who’s every woman’s dream and who you know wants to steal her away from you.”
I was about to speak, but Grace’s eyes stopped me. “And if Francis didn’t have designs on Sue, you’d probably find some other guy who did and push her headlong into bed with him.”
Grace was finally done. I’d started this conversation with her, maybe hoping to get some comfort. But in her own different way, just like Winnie, she’d gently but firmly forced me to face up to some truths, which like Grace said, I had a great talent for avoiding.
We talked some more, and in the end, it was just a pithy few words that Grace said that brought some closure for me that night. They say that genius is brevity. After going around and around the houses, Grace brought the conversation to a close. She had a gentle and tender look of love in her eyes as she told me what I needed to hear.
“Own it, Pete. Own who you really are. Not who you think the world wants you to be. Just be the person you really are.”
Her final words made me think forward to what life awaited the four of us back in New York.
There was an almost lyrical poetry in Grace’s voice as she snuggled closer to me. “Que sera sera. Whatever will be will be.”
As silence fell between the two of us, I wondered if one day before too long I’d look back on this moment as some kind of watershed moment.
