Suzanne

My sister Annette was gazing at me with a super serious expression. As a critical care nurse, she was concerned for the state of my well being.

"You need a break from all this craziness, I'm worried about you," she said.

"I'll be ok," My voice sounded unconvincing.

"Can't you take any time off? Go away for a week or two and relax. Remember you've already had a heart attack and..."

"Jesus sis that was twelve years ago and it was minor..."

"You had an MI and the chances of..." I interrupted her.

"Ok, ok, I'll figure something out, maybe a scuba diving trip."

If my sister only knew what I'd been doing to myself to get in shape the last three years, she'd be the one having chest pains. But, she was making perfect sense. My wife and I had separated after twenty five years of marriage and for all intents and purposes it would be permanent.

A failed business started the decline of our marriage but the seeds had been sown far earlier. It served to hasten the downfall. Our life style changed and she resented the intrusion with a vehemence that surprised me. We managed to keep our home but the extravagant shopping trips to the mall that she looked forward to, ceased.

We grew so far apart that I hardly recognized Barbara; we were living two separate lives under the same roof. Our sex life became non existent with me, wanting more and hoping we could find a satisfactory middle ground. My suggestion that we seek marriage counseling was met with indifference. Her medical insurance would cover sixty percent of the cost and she begrudgingly agreed.

Somehow we managed to keep the upheaval quiet and while our daughter must have known something was amiss, the full extent was kept hidden until she attended college. By then, our weekly therapy sessions uncovered a startling revelation by my wife that shook the foundation of our marriage.

After six months of sometimes gut wrenching admissions by both of us, she owned up to having an extra marital affair with a colleague. Barbara stated the fact with such contempt for me that I wanted to reach over and choke her skinny neck until she was dead.

For all our married life I'd been faithful and like most husbands, I entertained harmless sexual fantasies in my head. But, never would I allow it to manifest into a physical act with another person. I could count on both hands the number of times a female co worker or friend wanted to explore the carnal pleasures of the flesh with me.

When the therapist noted my wife's lack of remorse, she seemed to grasp the seriousness of what she had done and broke down. With many tears she described how her lover made her feel alive and desired for the first time in years. I managed to keep myself under control but on the ride home, I informed Barbara that I was going to stay at my sisters for a few days.

Barbara pleaded with me to reconsider but I was adamant. At that moment I hated her guts but the temporary separation made me think about my fault in the entire mess and I realized that I was equally at fault for the sad state of affairs.

With the therapists help, we established a temporary truce. Could our marriage be saved? I was completely uncertain but I was willing to try. The atmosphere improved in our home and the feelings we still had for each other kept us going for awhile but it wasn't enough.

Nearly three years had past without any sexual contact whatsoever. It was suggested that we try cuddling and light petting as a way to reestablish a bond between us. It seemed to work and a long weekend at the seashore was planned to try full blown relations.

It was an unmitigated disaster. I couldn't get the image of my wife fucking some guy out of my head. I failed to maintain an erection even for the shortest duration. Intercourse was out of the question and it made me angry, really angry. I did the worst possible thing and confronted her, again.

More therapy sessions failed to unlock the hatred in my heart over her betrayal. A trial separation was suggested and I moved out. My anger failed to dissipate and while I saw to her daily needs as though we were still living under the same roof, it was financially necessary to place the house we raised our daughter in up for sale.

I wanted to forgive Barbara for her infidelity but she couldn't find it in her heart to forgive me for the business failure, and our change in lifestyle. As we sat in front of the therapist, she'd constantly say that she didn't understand how it failed in the first place. There were times when I swear the therapist looked as frustrated as I did over my wife's inability to see another side of the coin.

Barbara's tunnel vision was maddening and she only saw things the way she wanted to see them. Slowly I realized that I would never live under the same roof with her again. Loneliness was preferable than having to listen to her dither on about how she didn't understand this or that or why...

Because Barbara converted to the Roman Catholic faith, she steadfastly refused to get a divorce and in some ways that's not bad. She has excellent health insurance and has continued to cover me under her policy. A huge benefit considering I consume expensive heart medication on a daily basis.

**** When I called Harmon's Dive Shop to see if any trips were scheduled, Andy, the owner/operator was glad to hear my voice. Over the last seven years, I had gone on twenty plus excursions and participated in over one hundred and fifty dives. I learned how to scuba dive with Chloe, Andy's wife as my instructor.

"Rick, I got one coming up the second week of January to Cozumel Mexico. Only three spots left. Want me to put your name on the board?" he asked.

"Whose on the board so far?" I asked in return.

"Oh, the usual, me, Chloe, Norm, the twins, Joann and Mike, Tim; oh yeah, Tim's getting married on the beach. You remember Denise, tall blonde with big bazooms? Well, everyone's invited, should be a real blast."

"Ok, sign me up for a single," I said.

"Hey man...ah...I'm sorry to hear about you and...Barbara. You know how we...like both of you..." he said.

The dive community at the shop was closely knit and news usually traveled fast among the members. A couple of weeks before the scheduled departure, I stopped in the shop to get my equipment serviced.

Chloe was behind the counter and gave me a hug. In a way, I felt embarrassed and turned my attention to the latest dive computer display. I happened to glance at the Cozumel sign up board and saw two unfamiliar names.

"Who are Suzanne and Paul? Should I know them Chloe?" I asked.

"New folks, new members, moved here from Canada not too long ago, seem to be friendly. They did a refresher course last month and took the last two spaces."

I didn't give them another thought until the day of our flight to Mexico. Andy always chose early flights and today was no exception. I drove into the dive shop parking lot at 5am. I really didn't want to leave my BMW (one of the few perks of my separation) in the airport parking lot and asked Andy if anyone had extra room for me.

Andy pointed to a Chevrolet Tahoe.

"Paul and Suzanne have plenty of space."

We walked over to their vehicle. After the introductions, Paul helped me transfer my luggage to his SUV.

During the ride to the airport, Paul talked excitedly about the journey. Suzanne seemed bored and actually yawned several times but that could be attributed to the early hour.

The airport was crowded with travelers and as is common with airline travel today, our flight was delayed. I'd been planning on reading a novel or two while away and settled down with "The Da Vinci Code".

Paul and Suzanne were seated across from me and with the book as cover I got a good look at Suzanne. She was dressed in a tight sweater and blue jeans that fit her fuller figure snugly. Very attractive with graceful lines and facial features, she had a glow about her.

I put my book down and Paul saw it as an opportunity to engage me in conversation about Cozumel. It was my sixth scuba holiday to the tropical locale and I considered it to be my all time favorite. We discussed "wall" diving which is just another term for diving along the face of a reef.

Suzanne was leaning on her elbow with her legs folded under her on the chair. Her eyes were shut and she was dozing or ignoring Paul's chatter. To me, there was something sexy about her posture and I cast glances in her direction whenever possible.

Finally, our flight was called and I boarded the plane only to find me sitting next to...Paul and Suzanne. She slept through most of the flight while Paul wanted to talk endlessly about "drift diving".

When the flight attendant announced our arrival at Charlotte Airport in five minutes, Paul went to the restroom. I gazed at Suzanne. Her head was tilted away me and a tiny line of drool ran from the corner of her mouth. Normally I'd be grossed out by such a thing but on her it looked...cute.

Suzanne gradually awoke and smiled at me but she must have felt the wetness and quickly wiped it away.

"Sorry about that, yuck!"

"You looked very peaceful," I said

"I didn't get much sleep last night with the last minute details and packing." She yawned.

Paul returned and looked at his wife.

"I see Sleeping Beauty's finally decided to join the living," he stated. An undercurrent of sarcasm was evident in his tone.

"If Prince Charming had helped Sleeping Beauty instead of snoring like a lumberjack, maybe Sleeping Beauty would be more awake..." she returned scathingly.

What's up with these two, I thought.

Because of our late arrival, we had to make a mad dash to board our connecting flight. Again, I was sharing the same row of seats as Paul and Suzanne. This time Paul fell asleep and Suzanne and I chatted amiably.

"Andy tells me you're from Canada?" I asked.

"Yes Toronto, Paul was transferred by his company to the main office in Philadelphia about a year ago," she answered.

Canadian English is very close in sound and cadence to American English but it's detectable by the pronunciation of certain words, "about" being one of them.

"Do you miss it...Toronto I mean."

"Oh yes, especially my two sons but Philly's a big ice hockey town and we plan on attending some of the Flyers home games, especially when Toronto comes to town." Suzanne smiled and her entire face lit up.

While Suzanne appeared to be a down to earth person, there was a kind of sophistication and intelligence that shone through. I assumed she was in her middle to late thirties but wore her age well.

Suzanne spoke of the difficulty in finding the right school district for her boys but when she mentioned Lower Merion, I knew it was in the top ten overall in the state. I assured her she had made a wise decision and a look of relief spread over her face. She was curious about me and I was giving her the basic details when our approach to Cozumel was announced on the PA system.

Once we landed, the resort bus picked us up and we were in our suites by cocktail hour. Registration at the dive shop for the boat dives was required and I helped Suzanne and Paul with the necessary documents. PADI or DAN ID cards are a standard requirement at reputable dive operations in the Caribbean.

While I was assisting them, Paul and Suzanne were very snippy toward each other. Suzanne wisely packed only the essential dive gear while Paul accused her of leaving too much behind.

"If you were so concerned about what I packed then why didn't you stay awake and help me last night," she snapped at Paul.

So, in short order, I became their equipment rental advisor as well. Afterward, Andy thanked me for taking them under my wing.

A welcome party for our dive group was scheduled for 6pm and I headed back to my room for a quick shower and change of clothes. I called my sister to let her know everything was ok and we got involved in a long conversation.

I was very late for the festivities and the only available seat was at the table occupied by Suzanne and Paul. After a warm greeting, I ordered a glass of cabernet. Paul already looked hammered and when he tried to have a pitcher of lager refilled, Suzanne strongly suggested that he slow down.

Although I've seen couples argue, Suzanne and Paul went at it tooth and nail. I wanted to shrink into the background but I sat dumb faced and simply watched. Practically everyone in the dive group was staring at them. Having won the argument, Paul downed several glasses in record time.

While Paul was occupied with his brew, I chatted with Suzanne. My main objective was to keep the conversation light and off the subject of Paul's inebriation.

Suzanne was an accountant by trade in Canada but with her two boys and running a household, she only worked part-time.

"I managed to secure a job with a bank not far from our house. Thank God, otherwise I just might have gone stir crazy at home," she stated, and a look of relief swept over her face.

Paul was shit faced by now.

"Wash so baad aboot stayin' home," His slurred speech was a good indicator of his drunkenness.

"Don't you think you've had enough," Suzanne stated angrily.

Paul's head was nodding dangerously close to the table top.

"Would you mind helping me get my husband back to the room?" she whispered. Her eyes were pleading and full of embarrassment for his condition. In one day, they had become the main topic of gossip among the dive group members.

Without too much effort, Suzanne and I managed to get Paul through the door. Suddenly he woke up with a panicked look and his cheeks puffed like a chipmunks.

I drug him to the toilet and his head hung just in time. Paul noisily vomited the contents of his stomach and Suzanne stayed to help him. I went out to the bedroom until I heard her ask for my assistance again.

Once we had Paul in the bed, Suzanne turned out the light and followed me back to the bar. The party had thinned out with most everyone out dining or clubbing in town. I was in desperate need of a stiff drink and asked the bartender if he knew how to make a Kamikaze.

"A what?" He was thoroughly confused.

With his permission, I got behind the bar and found the ingredients I was looking for. Suzanne watched with total fascination as I prepared the concoction in an ice cube filled tumbler.

"...let's see...a jigger of vodka...hmm...Smirnoff's will do just fine...a splash of Rose's lime juice...a dollop of Triple Sec...and voila..." I was talking more to myself than anyone in particular.

I placed the beverage in front of Suzanne. She took a sip and I could hear the ice tinkling in the glass.

"Umm...hey...that's very good!" she stated.

"A word of warning, they pack a pretty good wallop," I cautioned.

I mixed up a pitcher, gave the bartender a large tip and sat with Suzanne, enjoying her company. But, she looked sad and I sensed her need to talk. She looked like she needed a friend and I wanted to be there for her.

"This is supposed to be a second Honeymoon for us. My parents flew in from Toronto to stay with my boys. It's only been one day and I miss them so much already." I detected a few tears in her blue eyes.

"Last Saturday we celebrated our fifteenth wedding anniversary and I'm wondering if we'll make it to sixteen." Her tone was wistful and she audibly sighed.

"Things will work out, you'll see," I said, and covered her hands on the table with mine, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"I wish I could be so certain...I mean...Paul was so loving and kind when we were first married. He really appreciated me, loved me but lately all he does it get angry and yell at me. He has no patience with me and every little thing I do irritates the shit out of him. I know he's under a lot of stress at work but why take it out on me." Suzanne's eyes filled with tears.

"Have you tried talking to him about it?" I asked.

"If you only knew the number of times I've tried but he just ignores me. In the last year our sex life has all but vanished. I mean...Rick...I'm a healthy woman in my thirties and well...even with two boys underfoot, I make time for...but he doesn't seem interested." She was downing her third libation and I'll say this for Suzanne, she could hold her alcohol.

When Suzanne excused herself for a visit to the ladies restroom, I watched her retreating form with some interest. Her tan sun dress was flattering to her lush figure.

The pitcher of Kamikaze's was half empty and I was feeling the effects. I realized that I hadn't eaten a thing since our departure in Philadelphia.

The resort French nouvelle cuisine restaurant was still open and I suggested to Suzanne that we eat something before we suffered the same fate as Paul. The way she chuckled at my witticism just added to her overall allure.

The restaurant was dimly lit and occupied mostly by couples. It made me feel awkward but Suzanne relished the atmosphere and regaled me with stories of growing up in Canada. She was the youngest of three and her father was a captain in the famous Mounted Police or RCMP.

"Only I never saw him riding a horse, he mostly rode around in Jeeps," she stated, and the mirth in her eyes was very appealing.

Suzanne met Paul through a mutual friend and love blossomed. They married when both graduated from University. The food courses arrived and we ate in a forced silence because both of us were hungry. An expensive bottle of Bordeaux highlighted the meal and enhanced the experience.

Originally Suzanne balked at ordering the wine.

"...but...it seems like a lot of money..." I cut her off.

"Dinner's my treat, I insist,"

"But, I should be treating you. You've been very understanding...about Paul."

"It's been a long time since I enjoyed such charming company, please allow me," I stated. My tone was insistent.

Even in the low light I saw Suzanne blush and a few pangs traversed my heart. As I walked her back to her room, she unexpectedly took my arm. And yet, it seemed perfectly natural. Outside the door, she hugged me and lightly kissed my cheek. Her intoxicating perfumed scent invaded my nose and the sensation of her body pressed close to mine caused a stirring in my loins.

"Thank you, thank you so much. You saved my evening. I had such a lovely time. Good night."

I tossed and turned in bed. I couldn't get the sight of Suzanne out of my mind and only dozed when the red light of dawn appeared on the horizon.

At eight am, I stood on the boat dock with the dive group members waiting for orientation. I smiled and waved at Paul and Suzanne when I arrived but they picked up where they left off the previous night. I could tell by the looks on the other members faces that they were sick of hearing them argue.

Paul wanted to be with the group taking the deepest route along the reef while Suzanne preferred the shallower itinerary. Something inside me made me speak up immediately. A dive buddy is one of the primary commandments of scuba diving.

"Hey, I'm not allowed to deep dive. Do you mind if Suzanne partners with me?" I asked Paul. He looked relieved.

"Yeah sure, thanks Rick," he stated.

Suzanne was annoyed. She obviously wanted to be with her husband but gave me a weak smile of gratitude. All the folks for the shallower dive were on Boat "B" and there I was with Suzanne, again.

On the way out to the reef, Suzanne was having problems with her equipment. Her oxygen tank was riding too low on her BCD and I helped her make the necessary adjustment. The look of appreciation on her face made my heart beat faster.

As the dive boat cut through the waves, Suzanne was standing and holding onto the overhead bar that ran above the seats. The noise level exceeded even shouting to be heard and it gave me the opportunity to gaze at her body attired in a classy two piece.