I woke very suddenly with the feeling of the warm sun caressing my face. I realized that my wife was not caressing me, nor was she anywhere near me. For her, that is extremely odd. She loves sleeping next to me and loves to cuddle. On more than one occasion, we've been late for work because the cuddling has become a little bit more "intimate". I am sure that many people would envy the passion we still have after 20 happy years of marriage.
I just threw on a robe and went outside to find her exactly where I thought I would, in a deck chair enjoying the early morning sun before it turned blistering hot. My wife loves the sun, but is sensible about it. She doesn't risk burning her beautiful, olive-toned skin. No one in their right mind would believe she's in her early 40's - 41 to be precise - but she is.
I leaned over to kiss her good morning and was greeted by a PDA that would embarrass kids half our age, our daughter included. She's constantly teasing us by telling us to "get a room" but we both know she thinks it's wonderful that her parents are still so much in love. Most of her friends are children of divorce. I could never imagine my life without this amazing woman at my side. Everything I am, I owe at least 50% of that to her.
There is that old cliché "the wind beneath my wings" and I'm sure it is a hoary old cliché in most cases. Not in mine. The day I became half of our whole changed my life for the better and forever.
"You're going to get us in trouble," I chided her, although I was only half-serious.
She stuck out her tongue playfully and laughed. "How?" She grinned. "I don't know how you can forget, because you're the one that bought it, but we own this lovely little piece of property. We could have sex right on the beach and no one could complain - we might even attract an audience," she teased.
She was right, she always is. It can be exasperating, but what's life without a few challenges? For our 20th birthday a few weeks back, I bought this lovely little - let's call it a villa - in Cabo. There are a few more surprises that go along with it, but before we get there, I should perhaps fill you in on our backstory.
My name is Brad Kean and some of you may have heard of me. I was a professional football player who got hit hard in a championship game and one of my knees blew out. Fortunately, I had a backup plan and I am now a very successful attorney who specializes in athletes. Being a former pro myself, I know the pitfalls and my clients tend to be very grateful to me for looking out for their best interests.
I first met my wife when I was 16 and she was 18 - yes, math wizards, I married an "older woman". At the time, Jeana was dating Riley, my older brother. It was nothing serious, she had dated some real users before dating him and he treated her like a queen, which she liked.
The first time I met her was the first time I ever felt jealous. My brother is a decent guy, but he's not the brightest bulb in the package. I couldn't see what she saw in Riley and I got a bit sulky. Of course Jeana Thomas - yes,
that
Jeana Thomas - was far, far out of my league. How would a high-school senior ever manage to attract the daughter of one of our city's most prominent families? Jeana was born with a solid platinum spoon in her mouth, she bypassed silver and gold. No matter what she chose to do, she was destined for greatness because she had enough money to back up any plan. The fact that she chose to design swimwear is part of our story as well.
Riley ended up having to work one night and Jeana had really gone all out for one of their dates. I was dating this nice girl named Kelly, but she was in
uber-bitch
mode that night and had stormed out. "Her loss," Jeana said to me. "Any girl who treats a hunk like you that way deserves to be single!"
Jeana and I had barely exchanged more than a handful of words before that night. I didn't even think she knew I was alive, save for being Riley's 5-years younger brother. "You think I'm a hunk?" I asked in amazement. "Since when?"
"Since always," Jeana smiled at me as she sat beside me on my parent's overpriced leather sofa. "When you were in the 10th Grade, I told a couple of my girlfriends to try and snag you. I even considered making a play for you myself, but you know how it is in high school - status, right? Seniors don't date juniors. Anyway, I think you're even better looking than your brother and you're going to get better with age - trust me!" She kissed me on the cheek and to use yet another hoary old cliché, I didn't want to wash my face for a year.
"Hey!" Jeana piped up merrily. "I've got an idea! Do you have a nice suit?"
"A few of them, yes," I answered. "My family goes out a fair bit and I like the way a suit looks on me. Why do you ask?"
"Go upstairs, grab a quick shower and change into your nicest suit," Jeana said to me with a smile that would have convinced any sane man to do as she asked. "You're taking me to dinner."
"Huh?"
"Don't sit there with your mouth open, it makes you look like a dope," Jeana told me. From Day One, she was always trying to improve me. "Your date cancelled, my date cancelled and I do
not
plan on sitting around on a Friday night watching television. We have an 8 PM reservation at one of the swankiest restaurants in town and I intend to keep it. Your brother wasn't too thrilled about taking me, I'm still not sure the rat didn't arrange to have to work to get out of it. I don't know why, save for drinks, the entire meal is complimentary, they owe my daddy a favor. What do you say, sport? A free meal at a 5-star restaurant with a hot brunette on your arm - does that sound good to you?"
I practically ran up the stairs and had the quickest shower of my life. There is still a part of me that wonders why I didn't consider, not even for a second, that I was essentially poaching my brother's girlfriend. Perhaps because she had asked me out?
Whatever!
I did not care then and despite years of examining that night in my head, the only conclusion I've arrived at is - it really was destiny, just like in those romantic comedies Jeana and I both love.
When I went back downstairs, I almost felt my eyes bug out, like in one of those old Tex Avery cartoons. I don't know where she had hidden it - it's one of the "mysteries" of our courtship - but Jeana was wearing a slinky black dress with two side slits, her hair and makeup now impeccable and on her feet were the sexiest black high heels I had ever seen. She looked like a goddess and I felt like an oaf. I must have said something because she took my hand and we both went over to the full-length mirror that was on our hall closet. "Take a good look, sport," she said to me as she stood at my side. "Do you see an oaf in that mirror? We look good together, like a real couple." She was right. At 6'4", I was buff and tanned and looked great. By my side, she came up to my shoulders and if she kept smiling at me like that, I would have offered to buy her a new Corvette (which she didn't need, she owned 3). I was completely under her spell even then and if she had told me she was a sorceress and I was her slave, I would have answered "Yes, mistress". Things have changed a bit since then as you will discover throughout this story.
She threw the keys to me and we walked outside into the beautiful night air. There stood a vintage 1965 Shelby Cobra in metallic blue. I almost felt like looking around to see if my Fairy Godmother was standing behind me. "You're going to let
me
drive
that?
