It was tantalizing, my weekend.
Friday evening, we pull into the parking spot directly opposite his car.
“He’s already here, fellow vanpoolers.” I keep this observation to myself because there is no logical reason to boast.
Instead I blow him a kiss through the windshield. Martha and Monica (names changed to protect the horny) giggle at imagined pleasures in the offing.
Brown skin. Red and white striped shirt. Brown polka dot tie. I know those generous lips. And they are moving. His earpiece is on. Another conference call is my guess.
The three of us 'last stop' ladies disembark the van. He steps out to assist with my bags.
Handsome. Bow-legged. Clean shaven. Sweet lipped.
We watch as he carefully places my new running shoes in the trunk. Monica, in that ill-fitting dress she likes to wear on Fridays, looks like she could give him more than the current eyeful. But she has to settle for her husband, who is late. Martha steals a solid glance as she sashays herself and the work bag that would fail the size limitation gauge at any airport, to her car. I pay special attention to his pants; a charcoal gray Dolce Gabbana basic that make his gluteus maximus spell f.i.n.e.l.y. c.u.t.
I slide into the passenger seat. It feels like a cock pit in the high performance vehicle. The close confines and the steady hum of the engine provide a heady background to his smooth, deep baritone contributions on the conf. call.
My deck is giving out; the cards are stacked against me, already. How am I going to survive the next 48 hours? My well-intentioned pledge to support my Kenyan sisters in their sex boycott for political reform, now seems more than I can handle. Just the thought of not acquiescing to that which gives me pleasure for two days, let alone their seven, makes me want to give in, right there and then.
“How was your day?” he turns his attention to me, squirming in my seat.
We have made three children together and I must admit, it was and continues to be, a pleasure.
"Just fine and yours?" I manage, knowing right there and then, I will not make it. Hats off to the Kenyan women who have committed seven days of abstention for such a noble cause. I just wonder how many like me will betray the sisterhood’s cause? But what the heck, he is not a Kenyan, we are not IN Kenya and he is not a politician. Call me selfish. I'll be satisfied.