On Wednesdays, Aubrey took off from her four-day-a-week psychiatry practice to prepare for Foster’s weekly date night. This allowed her to dress up for him and be relaxed enough to listen to his problems and concerns without interjecting any of her own; this was something that made their marriage work, even though she never made Foster aware of it.
That wasn’t part of her psychiatry training; it was just something she felt every wife had to endure. So, she might as well schedule her husband like her other male patients.
This thought made Aubrey laugh.
She had a bright, infectious laugh and a beautiful smile. Because of her past, she wasn’t exactly the kind of girl who used these attributes to get men to buy her drinks, but a flash of her smile and the batting of her eyelashes had brought her some of the things she desired more immediately.
And Calder, the gardener, was someone she always desired to spend time with. She looked forward to their time together today, even though things would be different today. She was excited to begin her new approach to therapy sessions.
Calder was a college student from Australia, which made him attractive, but he was rather short. So his Napoleon complex compelled him to be more masculine than he needed to be.
And he would go to the ends of the earth to show a woman how much of a man he could be to them.
He was heavy into sports, and Aubrey loved to look at his massive chest, well-developed biceps, and rock-solid thighs from her upstairs window as he went about his business in her backyard. It was also satisfying to flirt with a young he-man who adored her.
So Aubrey chatted up Calder whenever he came over to landscape. They had been intimate once, but it was an impetuous fling that Aubrey could take or leave. Sometimes, Aubrey felt guilty about leading him on, but he kept coming back, satisfied with whatever time he could spend with her. His feelings were never hurt, he was never jealous, and he was never upset with her, so Aubrey didn’t see any harm in it.
He was only nineteen, so he was young and eager to learn about women. He wasn’t bright, but rather like a dog; he was obedient, fiercely loyal, and jealous. Aubrey constantly reminded him that she was happily married. Calder accepted this, but whenever he couldn’t see her immediately, he grew anxious.
Like today.
However, that just made him all the more amorous when they did get together.
Aubrey went to the upstairs hallway window and looked out into the backyard. There was Calder, opening the garden shed doors to remove the lawnmower and the other landscaping tools he would need for this early spring day.
The front door slammed shut, and then she heard Foster start his car. She went to the upstairs front hallway window and watched him drive away.
She put on her silk dressing gown and went downstairs.
She opened the sliding glass doors and stood on the slate patio that wrapped around the backyard pool. She called out to Calder, who dropped the bags of mulch he was holding and walked towards her. His muscles rippled under his tight work shirt, and he adjusted his crotch as he came closer to her.
“Calder is already getting excited,” she thought with delight, “but he will still have to wait until he’s finished with the outside garden before we can sit together and talk.”
He wouldn’t like the talking part today. But that was too bad.
Calder took off his work gloves as he neared Aubrey and nervously looked around. He always thought that someone was watching and that he might get caught in the act of making love to Aubrey, even though there was a high fence around the oversized backyard.
And maybe someone was always watching. This was, after all, a busy kind of neighborhood.
Aubrey knew of at least one college kid in the house on the lot adjacent to her backyard who frequently looked out his upstairs bedroom window at her while she sunbathed; she was also aware of her nosy older female neighbor next door, who got up on a ladder frequently to prune the trees that never seemed to need it.
So what if someone got a free fucking show?
Aubrey was comfortable with her body, and both of her neighbors seemed to enjoy her outdoor exploits.
When Calder came close enough, he gave one more nervous look around and said, “Is he gone?”
He meant her husband, Foster.
“Yes,” Aubrey replied, “There’s no one here but us.”
Aubrey took Calder’s hand and put it on her breast under her robe and held it there. Calder’s eyes looked longingly into hers as he almost started to sweat. Aubrey watched his trousers tighten as he gulped hard and looked down at the opening in her dressing gown.
“Up here,” she gently laughed as she put her other hand under his chin and lifted it so he could meet her gaze.
“I can’t see you until this afternoon,” she said, “I have some things to do. Just finish all of the gardening and knock on the door at 3:00. I’ll be ready for you then.”
Calder looked disappointed.
Aubrey gently kissed him on the cheek and closed up her robe. He just stood there looking like a lost puppy.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she said as she closed the door.
His sad look turned into a big grin as he happily went to work, hoping that his reward would be some heavy flirting before Aubrey went out for the evening. Aubrey would not disappoint him because Calder was, in fact, like a big dog that she was very fond of when it suited her.
And sometimes, unlike other men she knew, Calder liked to talk.
Most of the time, anyway.
Aubrey went upstairs to pamper herself with her weekly beauty regimen.
Since Wednesdays were the only days she had alone, it was the day she did everything to look her best. Besides, her beauty ritual was just one more secret that Foster didn’t need to know about.
Aubrey kept a running list of the things Foster didn’t need to know about. Her fantasies, her dreams, her occasional love affair. Nothing he cared about anyway. The only thing he cared about was the beautification of Orchard Park.
Hiding her involvement with Ian, if it happened, would be trickier. He went to the same country club as them and was a shameless braggart. Hopefully, he could tone down any feeling he had for Aubrey when they were out in public. But he might cause a scene because he was also bullheaded when he expressed his opinion at the country club.
Aubrey turned on the shower and made it extra hot. Not great for beauty, she thought, but it was good for washing every bit of her goddamned husband off of her.
The hot water and steam were just what she needed as she exfoliated every inch of skin she could reach until she felt clean. The rest of her beauty regimen was mainly preventative, slowing the hands of time.
Everything she went through to look like what people expected Foster Prentice's wife to look like was tedious. The perfect hair, the perfect clothes, the perfect makeup.
And God-fucking-forbid she should look a day over twenty-five.
Sometimes, Aubrey fantasized about going back to her old, mousey-brown self. The self that didn’t have to worry about anything other than her studies. The self that dreamt of meeting a bookworm like herself to spend a lifetime with.
Someone who would build an academic life with her and love her for who she was, not what she looked like. But that man was elusive.
That man didn’t exist.
Even the egghead boys in her classes chased after the prettier girls that they would never catch. And there she was in the corner, screaming, “Look at me! I’ll grow into myself! I’ll be pretty one day too!”
And there was no use thinking that if she spent more time on her looks and less time on studying, things would have turned out any different.
Men all wanted the same thing.
And she was a professional woman with much more to give than just being what everyone else wanted her to be. But it was too late. The bullies had already gotten to her in college, and there was no turning back. And if she did, people would whisper,
“What happened to her?”
This was the time when Aubrey’s mind shut off her “what ifs” and began to drift onto other things.
Productive things.
It always happened in the quiet moments. Like after sex, after conversation, after pretending to be happy. Her thoughts wandered toward something that felt both impossible and inevitable: writing a book.
She’d been toying with the idea for months now. And now it was time to act.
Was she using the man who had once called her plain to make a profit from it? Not exactly, but the thought did cross her mind. The men she would be writing about were the same type of men who would pass her over for someone prettier. But as hurtful as that was and as delicious as it would be to get back at these men, that was not at all productive.
Griding an axe in a book about sex would turn everybody off. Women already knew how they felt about men who cheated or ignored them altogether. And men would be insulted by such a diatribe. Especially male editors and critics who already knew what assholes they were.
So to think about this productively, Aubrey had to forget about what she didn’t want and concentrate on what she did.
And what she wanted first and foremost was to be recognized in her field for her work in the field of psychiatry, specifically, on male sexuality. Secondly, she wanted financial independence. No more relying on men and their money, only to be ignored when she was no longer unattainable.
And third, a completely vain motivator, to have her picture on the dust jacket of a bestseller.
Was this too much to ask? Aubrey didn’t think so, and it was so close to being in her grasp she could feel it.
And what about Ian Henshaw III? She would pursue him as well, but on her terms. She knew how dominant he was; to tame him would be like breaking a wild stallion. But here was where Dr. Aubrey Prentice had the upper hand.
She would guide him through the process of mental health and change his view on women. How he treated them, how he spoke to them, how he listened to them.
Would she break up his marriage? Of course. But his marriage was already over. All Aubrey had to do was point out a few of her faults and tell Ian how to fix them. When that didn’t work, Aurey would be waiting with open arms, grateful for the new attention that he would pay to her.
The next productive step for Aubrey would be to schedule as many male patients from Henshaw Industries as possible. Aubrey would have to work long hours, and so would Jennifer, but it would be worth it.
But one final matter needed to be settled, and that was to end her affair with her gardener, Calder.
This would have to be done delicately and would require all the practical experience Dr. Prentice was getting with her new male patients.