We had already lived in the neighborhood for a few years when Jessica and Craig bought the house down the street. We didn't meet formally until the end of summer block party a few months later. A brief chat revealed that our kids going to be in school together: our boys were just a year apart and our younger daughters were going into the same grade. Not only that, but Mara, my wife, and Craig worked at the same company. This was not particularly surprising -- they worked for a large software company that seemingly half of our neighborhood had ties to in one way or another. Carrie worked for the in-house legal counsel and Craig managed an IT team. It was clear we were going to be seeing a lot of these people.
Craig did not break any IT guy stereotypes: he was confident, a little geeky, and hinted at libertarian political leanings. He was also passionate about British soccer. I liked him fine, but didn't think we were destined for close friendship. Jessica was more personable, good-natured and curious, and clearly enjoyed motherhood. She worked as a freelance graphic designer, mostly from home. She was a physical contrast to my wife. Carrie was nearly my height and had been a distance runner for as long as I had known her, with the corresponding athletic figure. Jessica was shorter and curvier, with shoulder-length brown hair and an open face with bright eyes and a kind, genuine smile. I don't remember feeling attracted to her at the time. I was at the point in parenthood and life where I was getting by on coffee and obligation and even my erotic imagination had been dulled by routine.
Over the next year our families got together a few times for dinners and cookouts and our daughters developed a tight friendship. I saw more of Jessica as she and I had the bulk of the parental duties and often ran into each other in the school pickup line, at the playground, and on a few occasions in the grocery store. I always found her easy to talk to and commiserate with about the never-ending grind of activities and chores.
Each summer, the company where our spouses worked had an employee retreat. This wasn't the kind of casual gathering where families tagged along -- it was a serious, team-building effort that the CEO took very seriously. It felt a little too much like an indoctrination camp to me, but I was biased by having worked only in non-profits and education and was naturally suspicious of corporate doings. On the other hand, I had no problems enjoying the comfortable lifestyle my wife's salary enabled and kept my jokes to myself.
When Craig and Mara went off for their retreat, Jessica and I made plans to get the kids together as much as possible not only to keep them busy but to ease the burden of single parent life, even if only for a week. They had alternating sleepovers and we arranged carpools to their summer day camps. It was a nice break, in a way. Our normal weekly routine was pretty regimented, albeit by necessity. I also enjoyed having the time to chat casually with Jessica. She was very easy to talk to, and had a terrific laugh, but I still didn't know her that well and our conversations rarely dipped below the surface. By the end of the week we both eagerly agreed to combine forces again for the retreat week next year.
As the following spring turned into summer, I found myself looking forward to the week when Mara would be away. Some of it was just a need for a break; our marriage was perfectly fine, but everyone needs time apart now and then. But it also dawned on me that I was looking forward to being able to spend time with Jessica apart from our spouses. I still wasn't thinking of her sexually at all. Whenever I ran into her she was usually in a hurry, dressed in baggy clothing, her hair pushed back in a headband, little or no makeup. Of course, there were times when my mind wandered that way, but mostly I just genuinely enjoyed her company. I felt like we could relax with each other in a way that you couldn't with your spouse, especially at this point in our lives when we were constantly planning and negotiating responsibilities.
The second year, during the retreat week, instead of dashing off home for alone time after dropping the kids, we lingered in each others' kitchens to chat. We talked more about our childhoods, had an honest conversation about what it was like for our careers to be secondary to our spouses', and we made jokes about the company they worked for that we never would if they'd been around. Still, I always felt like I was intruding on her time when I stayed too long at her place, and whenever she started to leave mine, I was too hesitant to invite her to stay.
The third year, with our kids a little older and needing less of our attention, our conversations deepened. One evening, while the kids were in the basement watching movies and playing video games, Jessica and I were chatting while I had the TV on in the background. Even in the streaming area I still liked to flip around on broadcast TV, watching bits of movies I liked whenever they showed up. The movie I had been half-watching ended, and as Jessica was making motions to leave, the next one started: it was Out of Sight, the crime drama with George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez.
"Oh my god, I love this movie," Jessica said as the opening credits came on.
"Are you serious? It's one of my favorites. This is surely J. Lo's finest work."
"Really? I always thought she was better in Maid in Manhattan."
"Um... " as I considered a reply she burst out laughing.
"Did you think I was serious?" she smiled.
"Well," I stammered, "I mean... "
"I would hope you know me better than that by now," touching my arm lightly as she said it. I didn't look down where she'd touched me, but I still felt the warmth of her hand.
"Care to join me?" I said, nodding at the TV. "I didn't have any other plans."
"Really?" Her eyes wide, smiling. "Are you sure?"
"Please," I said, gesturing to the couch. "I think we deserve a break."
I didn't do the math, but it was around twenty years since I'd sat on a couch watching a movie with a woman other than Mara. It felt like I'd regressed to high school. We weren't close enough to be touching but I was aware of her presence the whole time, watching her out of the corner of my eye every time she moved, noticing the clean smell of her shampoo, forcing myself to keep my eyes locked on the screen when she lifted her arms above her head for a long stretch. Feeling her go quiet during the quite hot sex scene in the movie. We chatted some, but mostly just sat quietly and watched. After it ended she smiled shyly and thanked me and left for her house soon after. I had a hard time sleeping that night, turning the afternoon over in my head, trying to decide whether it was just an innocent thing or if something had really changed.
I thought about that night many times through the following fall and winter. I wondered what would have happened if I would have tried something, made some kind of move to show that I was interested in... in what? The thoughts were incoherent in my own head. I didn't want to pursue a tryst or affair with Jessica, right? Even voicing the idea silently in my mind sounded absurd. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. The warmth of her body next to mine, the way she breathed as we watched the sex scenes of the movie together. I played it over and over in my head, trying to figure out why I was lingering on what was on the surface nothing more than an innocent get together. I spent as much time wondering whether she felt something, too, or if I was just driving myself crazy over nothing. Either way, I was more anxious then ever for the retreat week to come.
Then the pandemic hit. We saw plenty of Jessica and Craig, but almost always as a group. We had nervous dinners on each other's back decks while the kids played outside. The company retreat still happened (of course it did) but it was moved to Zoom so instead of having time alone, Jessica and I each spent the week wrangling kids to try to avoid disrupting the endless conference calls. Even after the vaccines came the retreat stayed on Zoom for the next year and I began to despair that those weeks -- what I referred to in my imagination as my weeks with Jessica -- would never return.
