She always hated being called a cougar – just because she had a couple of younger boyfriends doesn’t mean she wanted to devour them, and she never, ever went to clubs to find them, take them home and discard them in the middle of the night, or at morning light.
Or did she?
With Red, it was about the watch.
He was 23. She was 35.
He bought a watch when they had no money and they were living in a basement suite in a mountain town.
He smoked pot almost daily. His hair was long and curly and red. And soft. He was – dare I say it – well endowed and well skilled. They were dynamite in bed. She still thinks of those times. Wistfully. Late at night. When she is alone. Once she thought she saw him on the street in Victoria this summer, soft hair spilling out from under a toque. Slight swagger. Bloodshot eyes.
(Never mind. It wasn’t Red after all.)
Back to the watch. He showed it off proudly when he got home. She was in the bath trying to soak off her work day. She worked 11 hours a day, 4 days a week. The 3 days off each week were nice, but she worked damn hard for them. To blow off steam she would come home at lunch and run the trails. When the snow came she would grab her x-country skis and go up to the groomed trails above town. She was soaking after a nice trail run, or ski, can’t remember which.
She wanted to hike and climb in the mountains. He wanted to ride mountain bikes. She hadn’t found climbing partners by the time the snow came and he hadn’t made it out for a ride. He spent some time sitting in his cousins filthy little trailer, trying to convince him not to drink himself to death. But that’s a different story.
I thought we were going to discuss with each other before we spent more than 100 bucks, she said.
His face fell.
It’s my own money, not our money, he said.
But you owe money to other people, she said, heart sinking into the bathwater lockstep behind his face. Somewhere she knew she was out of line but couldn’t help herself; she didn’t back down.
The next day he reluctantly took the watch back to the store.
A couple of months later before the kids came to town for a visit she broke up with him. He went to live in a rented house with a bunch of other young people.
He bought a watch.
• • •
Recently her lover sent a text message, saying he’d like to take her out for lunch but he had to go for a speed workout.
No problem, go run! she replied.
Wow, the last woman I dated insisted I miss some workouts, he said.
I wouldn’t want to be responsible for someone changing who they are, she said. When you date a marathon runner how can you not expect 100-mile weeks, sore quads and early nights?
She didn’t tell him “It’s not that I understand running.” It’s because she’s finally beginning to understand all too well the fallen face, the immediate self-recrimination, the inevitable heartbreak of the carnivore.
I really like this story!
My husband is 14 years my junior, and one of the things I LOVE about our relationship is how fast I am able to put my perspective aside and not be threatened by his behaviours. It was hard not to ‘mother’ him in the early days, but I was determined to let him make mistakes. I got that wrong a LOT in (for me it was very similar to your post) but I am lucky enough that he stuck by me anyway. Now, I am relaxed and carefree about his stages in life. And what I find is he influences me as much as I influence him – it’s true what they say about ‘keeping you young.’ This is the best relationship I ever had. I guess that’s why I wrote a book about it! 🙂
Barbra Novac
I’m so glad it worked out for you Barbra! Age has never been a limiting factor for me in choosing a lover. When I connect with someone, older or younger, it’s because of all the other things that fascinate me…all the rest is just demographics. I’ll have to read your book 🙂
Not a Rolex, but very nice nonetheless, and no I didn’t get a picture.
Thank you for your comments!
Do you have any pictures of the watch? It sounds nice.
very nice piece…rolex?