Thirty-five and Single

To those who wait for love

------[]----[]------

I attended an Eastern university on a soccer scholarship and loved the experience. However, I later regretted two things about my college years.

I slept around too much. I was out of control, constantly repeating the walk of shame. I ultimately realized how empty my relationships were, how disappointed I was in myself, and stopped behaving that way. However, I had a reputation, and every guy who asked me out still expected to screw me that night. I quit dating.

The second issue had to do with a steady diet of propaganda in the name of feminism. I fully support goals such as equal pay and equal opportunity. What I came to question was the incessant line that a woman has no value except in a career and certainly does not need a man in her life to find fulfillment. In fact, marriage is often described as an artificial construct, and both marriage and family as enemies of women's careers.

I swallowed that for most of my undergraduate studies, but over time I found reasons to question that extreme position. I harbored this sarcastic thought of asking one particular professor to talk about her mother. I realized there was plenty of evidence that views like hers were far too narrow, beginning with my parents.

I watched the looks of love that passed between my parents. Mom said once that her love for my father was the greatest motivation in her life, and the most rewarding. When I asked why it was so, she said she had always liked the Biblical concept of two becoming one.

I had seen that as they often completed each other's sentences, or even without completing them, laughed over a shared joke communicated with just a word or two, without anyone else having any idea what they understood. Mom and Dad were happy together and missed each other when apart. They were complete when together. Their love permeated our family.

I eventually realized society is simply people who grew up in families, and it made sense to me that better families support a stronger society. I grew up with loving parents. Later, I discovered people who grew up in dysfunctional families. They weren't fated to be dysfunctional, but given a choice, I would take my experience with my family as my template for life.

I had many friends who had married. I'm wary of generalizations, but I couldn't deny how happy they were, and some already resembled my parents in their oneness. I saw how much they loved their children. My best friend growing up told me almost every year she wished she could freeze one of her children at that age and enjoy her that way for a few years.

All this led me to believe a career is a perfectly valid choice. So is marriage and family. Some succeed at balancing both.

------[]----[]------

After graduation, I entered an MBA program. Two years later, I received that degree, but two years after that I realized I wanted a law degree. It took another year, but I applied and was admitted with a full tuition scholarship.

I was thirty by the time I graduated from law school, and I was single. That was a problem for two reasons. I wanted to marry, but I didn't know how to meet anyone. Not just anyone, but someone worth marrying. I knew how to meet men for a night of hot sex.

I no longer wanted that. I wanted more.

Most people would probably look at me and figure I would have no trouble meeting nice, professional men. I was still attractive and athletic. Blond hair and blue eyes. I stood 5'8", so I had the long legs of a soccer player. I was only ten pounds over my very lean playing weight, the result of hours at the gym.

------[]----[]------

Five years later, I had settled into a nice legal career. I focused on transactional work, which means things like purchase agreements, contracts of all types, acquisitions, and partnership and corporate operating agreements and bylaws. I loved my work, because every transaction was different and challenging.

Coupled with my business understanding and ability to read financial statements, I became our firm's lead transactional attorney. My hourly rate had gone steadily upward, and I was now billing more than I ever dreamed I might.

I bought a home and drove a nice Lexus. I had money but still longed for marriage and family. However, the clock was ticking. That saddened me.

I had only been on a couple of dates a year since law school, but that was because I turned down most who asked, especially from a couple of attorneys in our firm. I felt that was problematic to date within the firm. Just too many ways that could go wrong.

------[]----[]------

On June 1st, my secretary brought me a note. I was on the phone with a client, but the managing partner had called and wanted me to come to his office as soon as I could. Ten minutes later, I walked in.

"Hey Joe, what's up?"

"Hi, Lauren. Thanks for stopping by. Sorry to be in a bit of a rush here. We've had an interesting inquiry from McQuarry, Smyth and Bramble."

That was the name of the second largest firm in the city. We were the largest and both were full-service firms.

"Do you know Ron Anderson over there?"

"Only by name. We've never met that I remember."

"He's the head of their transactional group, practicing now for 15 years. They have an interesting problem. He has a large corporate client that wants to buy an even larger company. It's a huge transaction, just under a billion dollars."

"Sheesh!"

"I know! The problem Ron has, or rather his firm has, is their malpractice coverage as it pertains to transactional work, limits the transaction size to $400 million."

"Isn't that the same as ours?"

"It is, but he has talked to their insurer, and I've talked to ours. Both are willing to extend coverage to $500 million. They need us, and it really can only be our firm, to be able to do the work together. I want you to handle it on our end."

"Thanks! Do we have an agreement between our firms?"

"I'm working on that, with their managing partner. They will retain client contacts, and we will agree not to solicit that client's business. We think our malpractice carriers will insist on some language about handling joint and several liability. We'll work it out."

"We'll want the right to review and approve the engagement letter, particularly on the scope provision. I'm even more concerned about exclusionary language. Also, they have to disclose that we will be sharing in the work and billing for our work on the same basis. That's an ethics requirement."

"Good point. What do you mean about same basis?"

"Sorry. I knew what I meant, but didn't say it well. I meant we should coordinate when we send out billing, and maybe we should send ours to Ron to include in the same mailing/email to the client.

"What's our time line?"

"We'll get our agreement done first, but our goal is two weeks from now. Then, you and Ron can meet and discuss how you want to manage the drafting of the purchase agreement."

------[]----[]------

Three weeks later, the agreement between our two firms was complete and signed, and I had a copy for my files. Ron Anderson was due in any minute for us to begin work. We had set aside two hours.

My paralegal, Marci, buzzed me to tell me Ron was in conference room 4, one of our smaller ones, designed for 4-8 people.

When I walked into the room, I was surprised that Ron was younger than I had assumed, but I quickly realized he was probably out of law school at 25, five years younger than I. I figured he was probably about 40.

He was also handsome and tall. Probably 6-2 or -3. I didn't allow myself to dwell on that, though. I didn't want to cloud this matter we would be handling.

Ron and I had talked on the phone, and he felt this would be somewhere between $750,000 and $900,000 total billing by the time the deal closed. We were going to bill about double our normal rate, to reflect our exposure and expertise. It meant a lot of billed hours, not only for the two of us, but including support staff.

This first meeting was both fun and productive. We shared a similar sense of humor and laughed a lot.

I asked Ron to draft the opening section of the acquisition agreement, the one identifying the parties. I would work on an outline of the section headings. The organizational bones of the agreement.

Much of this work we would do using a secured, password-protected area of our server, to which Ron would have access.

------[]----[]------

We spent about a month getting to a solid draft of the purchase agreement, without exhibits for now. There were enough unique aspects of the transaction that we needed to add a lot of provisions I would not normally have included.

I was impressed with Ron's legal thinking, but I know he felt the same way about me. We each had moments of insight that came from our collaboration and reached beyond what either of us might have been capable of alone.

Of course, we had other attorneys who needed to be satisfied with the document: the in-house attorneys for our client and for the target company. The process took another two months, and we took part in many video calls to work through disagreements about provisions. The result was an even cleaner document, but I was surprised at how much money we had billed by then. I worked on almost nothing else for five months.

I billed 54 hours on the exhibits alone. At our billing rate of $600 per hour for this, that was over $32,000. That was one week out of about 20. It was the most hours I billed in one week.

Neither company ever seemed concerned. That made sense, because our billing would be a little under one tenth of one percent of the acquisition price.

Finally, after a little more than four months, all of the documents were ready for signing, which would be supervised by the in-house attorneys, subject to our quick review after signing.

------[]----[]------

Ron and I were meeting for the last time to review the signed documents and to prepare what we assumed would be a final billing. Our client had paid promptly each month, so this was probably our last, but for a little mop-up work. The total for me was $424,000 rounded off, and Ron's was $426,000. That was within the difference we had agreed to hit.

"Ron, this has been such a unique matter to handle, and it was wonderful to collaborate with you on it."

"I agree. Assuming we are now complete, there's something I've wanted to ask you for a long time but felt it would be inappropriate before now."

I wondered where he was going with this.

"Lauren, would you go to dinner with me? Just to be clear, I'm not asking so we can celebrate finishing this matter. I'm asking you on a date ... I hope I'm correct you're single."

"I am. I didn't see this coming, but I'd be thrilled to go out with you. I feel I know you better than anyone I've ever dated."

"And yet you're willing to spend more time with me."

We were both laughing, but inside, I was genuinely thrilled. Ron was tall and handsome, and I had allowed myself to think about how attracted I felt several times. I was more than just willing, I was excited to date him.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I thought I would take you to La Tour d'Or. Do you have any problem with how dressy it is?"

"Not at all."

Actually, I needed to buy a new little black dress and heels ... and stockings.

"When are you thinking? It might be next week for me, because I want to update my wardrobe before I go out with you."

"Please don't feel you need to do that ..."

"But that's how I feel. I want this to be special. After all, you're not a stranger I've just met."

"How about a week from this Saturday? Let's assume I'll pick you up at 7 ... May I pick you up?"

"I think I know you well enough. I'll text you my address."

We had exchanged cell numbers early on.

"Wonderful. If anything changes, I'll call."

"Thanks, Ron. I'm excited to go out with you."

------[]----[]------

I went home that night and looked up Ron's bio on his firm's website. There wasn't much there I didn't already know. No hint about whether he was widowed, divorced or, like me, never married.

------[]----[]------

I had fun shopping Saturday and found a sexy dress. I loved how my legs looked with the short dress and the high heels.

I was impatient for the following Saturday to arrive. I was trying not to get over-hyped about my date with Ron, but I hadn't felt this way about someone before a first date in a long time.

On Thursday, I was sitting in my office, working on a boring partnership agreement. Everything was boring after that big project. I was also back to $300 per hour. It seemed so pedestrian.

My phone rang, it was an internal call from Joe.

"Lauren, I wanted to make your day. The partners have voted to offer you a full partner share, backdated to June 1st, so you will receive more of that monster billing than you would have. They also voted you a mid-year bonus of $10,000."

"Wow, Joe, you certainly delivered on making my day."

"Your work on that project was outstanding. The partners at McQuarry are raving about the work you did."

"So, you didn't want them to offer me ..."

"No, remember, we included a clause in our working agreement that neither firm would initiate recruiting efforts for Ron or you."

I knew what that meant. Lawyers cannot be prevented from moving to a law firm of their choice. Our agreement prohibited recruiting. Joe's last comment stuck in my mind. Was Ron trying to recruit me but disguising it as a date?

My phone pinged. A text.

It was from Ron.

Dear Lauren:

I need to confess something. Time has passed too slowly this week. I've also discovered I miss seeing you or talking to you like we did for months.

See you Saturday!

Ron

I felt reassured and silly for even thinking about recruiting. Time was passing slowly for me as well. Truth be told, I missed him, too.

------[]----[]------

On Saturday morning I had my hair done. That evening, I was ready 30 minutes early. That was fortunate, because Ron was 15 minutes early. When he rang the doorbell, I waited in the kitchen for the count of 10 and then walked to the front door and opened it.

Ron was gorgeous, with an obviously expensive tailored suit.

"Lauren, you look amazing. After seeing you for months in professional outfits, I'm a little stunned at how beautiful you are."

"Thanks, Ron. That suit is equally stunning. You probably never wear that to the office."

"Never. It looks too expensive. Client's start imagining where their hard-earned money is going. ... Oh, I almost forgot, I brought you some flowers."

"Ron, these are beautiful! Thank you so much. I'll just put these in some water. Follow me into the kitchen."

On my way, I stopped.

"Are you staring at my legs or my ass?"

"I'll take 'C.'"

I looked at him with a puzzled look.

"'C' is usually Both."

I was laughing and kissed his cheek.

"You were wise not to take 'D.'"

------[]----[]------

I held Ron's hand as we drove.

"You said we've gotten to know each other the past few months, but that isn't true. I know nothing about you personally. What do I need to know about Ron Anderson?"

"I was married at 26, divorced at 28. No children."

"What happened?"

"Before I proposed, she agreed we would have children. That was my dream. After we married, she changed her tune."

"Bait and switch?"

"I think she lied and never intended to have children."

"I'm sorry. You deserved better."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, smiled, and closed his mouth.

"What were you going to say?"

"Maybe later. What do I need to know about Lauren Mitchell?"

"I played D1 soccer, then went straight into an MBA program. I got a job in marketing, but after two years I wanted to get a law degree. I spent a year applying and got accepted. I got my law degree at 30."

"Never married?"

I paused, not sure about what I should say.

"What I want to tell you ..."

"Lauren, you don't need to."

"Yes, I do. You asked what you needed to know about me. My first two years of college, I slept around a lot. Then I realized how empty it was, and how much shame I often felt. There were mornings I despised myself, so I stopped. After that, I tried to continue dating, but I was considered 'easy,' and the guys who asked me out expected that.

"I quit dating then and in the MBA program. I worked for two years in a marketing job and decided to apply to law school. I dated very little, and the number of dates kept declining. It's hard to meet people at our age.

"I'm the opposite of what I was, though. I haven't had sex in seven years. I decided it has to be for love."

I was wiping away tears, but my timing was good. Ron had just pulled into the restaurant parking lot and had parked. He asked me to wait so he could open my door. I held his arm as we walked into the restaurant. I liked being able to wear high heels and still have Ron be several inches taller.

The menu was limited in size, as befitting a fine French restaurant. I knew anything I chose would be good. I decided to be adventurous and chose pheasant. Ron chose beef medallions. We shared a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. "Shared" isn't entirely correct. Ron had one glass. He was the driver that night.

We talked more about ourselves, our likes and dislikes. Even our fears. That wasn't easy, but Ron ventured there first.

"Part of knowing someone is knowing not just their hopes, but their fears. I've hoped for years to be happily married and have a family. My fear is I'm going to end up missing out. Two years in a lousy marriage was my shot."

"I choose not to believe that, Ron. I have the same hope, but for me there's a clock that's ticking. My fear is time is running out."

Maybe it was the wine. We looked into each other's eyes and smiled. I put my hand on his arm.

"Thank you for asking me out tonight. It's been nice."

"I've looked forward to this more than I probably should have."

"Just out of curiosity, when did you decide you wanted to ask me out?"

"In our first meeting, in your conference room."

"Why then?"

"I saw how beautiful you are, of course, but it was far more than that. I got to know the person you are, your sense of humor. Before our meeting was over I knew two things. I wanted to explore a relationship with you, and I had to wait. It hasn't been easy to wait, especially as we spent time together almost every day, either in person or on the phone. I actually looked forward to Mondays!"

"In the spirit of that outburst of honesty, I thought about you in that way that day as well. I hardly knew you then, but I sensed something about you I liked. The following months deepened that feeling."

Ron was smiling and laughing a little.

"I came here tonight, hoping this wouldn't be a one and done, that you would be open to seeing more of me. If I'm reading the tea leaves correctly, your answer when I ask you out again, is likely to be yes."

"Wrong."

"Wrong? Why?"

"It's not likely if it's a certainty."

------[]----[]------

Ron took me home that night and walked me to the door. I couldn't remember ever having a better date, and I was hoping he would kiss me. Instead, he kissed me on the cheek and wished me good night.

I was lying in bed an hour later, smiling. My phone buzzed. An email.

My dear Lauren:

I'm lying here in bed, thinking about how much fun I had with you tonight. When I walked you to the door, I wanted to kiss you. It's not normal for me to kiss after a first date, but I could have justified it because we've spent so many months working together. Then you told me about the shallow way you have been treated by men.

I'm not interested in you for one night. Not even for a week or two. I'm hopeful of something more permanent. If that scares you, then hold on:

I love you.

Ron

I was crying. I was in love, although it did scare me.

------[]----[]------

The next day, Ron called me.

"'Morning Lauren."

"Good morning, Ron. Thank you for your sweet email last night."

"Did I scare you?"

"Yes and no."

"Please explain."

"It didn't scare me at all that you told me you love me, and I deeply appreciated your reason for not kissing me, although I would have loved to kiss you."

"So, what scared you?"

"The fact that I love you. I could pretend it wasn't real until you used those three words."

"It's hard to ignore. My scary moment was telling you."

"I'm so glad you did. ... What's next?"

"How about a fun day on my boat?"

"That sounds wonderful. Are we swimming as well?"

"We can. Come prepared for it."

"You just want to see me in a swimsuit, but it works both ways, Ron."

------[]----[]------

Ron came to get me and drove to the marina. His boat was beautiful. I didn't know much about boats, but it looked expensive. I could read the numbers on the twin outboards: 250 hp. I assumed it was designed to haul ass.

We loaded the gear, and Ron had me sit in the other captain's chair while he moved us away from the dock and slowly motored out of the harbor. He pointed to a buoy and said that was the outer marker and we could speed up.

"Hold on. This is the fun part."

And I thought the fun part would be kissing him. I was partly wrong. I felt like we were shot out of a cannon. The stern lowered as the prop dug at the water, and we quickly accelerated. I couldn't help but yell from excitement.

"You ok?" He was yelling over the din.

"I'm great! Loving it!"

He cut back on the throttle, and we slowed somewhat. It was easier to talk.

"I don't like to drive fast too much, because of the waves and erosion. We're going to just take our time and make our way about five miles north. I have a favorite area, kind of an inlet, where we can drop anchor and swim, even eat some of the lunch I brought."

I enjoyed the voyage. The scenery was fabulous, and there were lots of birds. Ron was motoring slowly now. After another 20 minutes, he pulled the boat into an inlet, where we dropped anchor.

"Want to swim first? It's a little cold, but I always find I get used to it quickly."

Both of us stripped down to our swimsuits. I had worn a black one-piece, but it was a sexy one and Ron was looking. So was I. He was fit and so handsome! Ron jumped in and I followed.

Cold!

I was gasping, but Ron was right. I got used to it. I swam around a little and then swam over to Ron.

"Put your arms around me, please."

"Cold?"

"If that will get you to hold me, then yes."

Ron laughed and held me in his arms. My back was against him, and he was warm.

"This is my idea of swimming," he said, as he kissed the back of my neck.

"This is my idea of being held."

We got back into the boat, and I noticed Ron looking at my nipples. High beams from the cold water!

We decided to eat on the boat. There was a table in the stern that he raised into position, and we sat in the sun and ate the sandwiches he brought. A larger cooler had soft drinks and sparkling water. I chose a Coke. Ron had sparkling water.

"Ron, what was your undergraduate degree?"

He started laughing.

"I'd have you guess, but you'd run out of ideas before you got it."

"I'll take that challenge. Obviously not political science. Too obvious. It must be something totally unrelated to law. Music?"

"Nope."

"Library science?"

"Wow, good guess, but no."

"Why was that a good guess?"

"Thinking way outside the box. Give up?"

"Sure."

"Russian literature."

"You're kidding!"

"YA tebya lyublyu."

"What was that?"

"I said 'I love you.'"

"Explain. Whence the Russian?"

"I was born in Moscow."

"Wait, Anderson? Was your father a diplomat?"

"No, he taught English at Lomonosov Moscow State University. Our last name was Andreyev. In Russian, 'Andrei' is the equivalent of 'Andrew' in English, or 'Anders' in a couple of Scandinavian languages. The 'yev' ending is 'son of.' So, 'Ander's son.' We anglicized it when we moved here."

"When was that?"

"When I was seven. Dad taught me English along with Russian as I was growing up. His long-term plan was to move to the U. S."

"Russian Literature. You've read the great works in the original, then?"

"Of course, Pushkin, Nabokov, Dostoevsky, Chekhov. Did you know Nabokov could speak and read English before Russian? He grew up in an aristocratic family near St. Petersburg. He taught for years in Berlin and then in the U. S. He even finished his great work, Lolita, while living briefly in Ashland, Oregon.

"It probably shows, but I wrote my masters dissertation on him."

"Wait. You got a master's? When?"

"This is where I confess something. I entered the university at 16, got my B. A. at 19, and my M. A. at 21. Then I went to law school."

"Please tell me that took three years!"

He was laughing.

"Law school was the first time I was really challenged."

"I was afraid you were going to tell me you finished law school in two years. How old are you now?"

"I'm 39, and I think you're 35, right?"

"Right, Say something else in Russian."

"Moye serdtse tvoye."

"What does that mean?"

"My heart is yours."

I was melting. I was completely conscious of it but couldn't avoid it. I was wiping away tears.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Well, then, I told my story in school. What about you?"

"Seriously. For a person who got straight A's in high school and college, I feel completely mundane. I studied marketing with a minor in finance. Then I got an MBA. You know the rest. I knew you were very bright, but your background is amazing. I feel so ordinary."

"My dear, in my eyes, you are far from ordinary."

With that, Ron stood and held out his hand and pulled me to my feet and into his arms.

He kissed me.

"YA nikogda ne tseloval boleye krasivuyu zhenshchinu.. ... I've never kissed a more beautiful woman."

We kissed again, and I was on fire. He could have taken me to bed in the cabin below, but he didn't.

"Ron, did you ever see A Fish Called Wanda?"

"The scene where John Cleese learns Jamie Lee Curtis is turned on by him speaking Russian? One of my favorite films, although I'm partial to Kevin Kline's character."

"That was the scene I meant. It just went through my mind. You're right, though, Kevin Kline's best role."

"Were you turned on when I spoke Russian?"

"Unbelievably. Ron, this may be impertinent and way too early to say this, but if we marry, please speak Russian to me when we make love."

"You're my Jamie Lee Curtis!"

------[]----[]------

Several hours later, after we motored back to the marina, refueled and unloaded the boat, Ron drove me home. I fell asleep on the way.

When he walked me to the door we kissed again.

"Thank you for such a fun day. Will you come here Tuesday so I can cook dinner for you?"

"I'd love that. What time should I be here?"

"Let's say 7. Do you have any food allergies?"

"None. I'll see you Tuesday night."

He kissed me again.

I was lying in bed, thinking about that day and the stunning things I learned about Ron. I didn't even ask what his Russian first name was!

Andreyev. Who would have thought?

------[]----[]------

Monday I texted Ron and asked two things, to dress up for dinner and his Russian first name.

He texted back: Mikhail. It's the same name as Michael. "He who is like God." Dad let me choose a new first name, I chose Ron, it was never Ronald. An American friend I had in Moscow was named Ron. His father was a student at the university.

I answered: Mikhail. Appropriate.

I was thinking of that physique as a model for a Greek god. I was wet remembering him in his swimsuit. Imagining him without it.

------[]----[]------

I cooked a rack of lamb--only four ribs. My recipe uses an herb crust, and I like to use a little Dijon mustard in the bread crumbs. I find they stick to the meat better and the Dijon adds a wonderful flavor.

I decided to serve a side salad and oven-roasted potatoes on the plate.

I picked Tuesday because I knew I had the afternoon after 2 pm open. The night before, I shopped for everything. I also found another dress. Red, this time. Still with black stockings, but I already had a pair of elegant red heels. I laid everything out on my bed.

By 6:40 everything was ready. The lamb was out of the oven and cooling. I ran to my room and got dressed. Not a minute too soon. The doorbell rang.

Ron was standing there with a bouquet--red roses--and a bottle of Zinfandel. He was wearing a different suit, also clearly bespoke. My heart was beating. He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"I thought time stopped today. It dragged by, because I kept thinking about dinner with you tonight. That's a stunning dress!"

I put the roses in a vase and set them on the table. I had taken a leaf out of the table, leaving it nearly square. I put Ron at the end, and I would be at the side--not at the opposite end.

"Mikhail, you will sit here, and I there. Go ahead and sit, while I serve you."

I brought out our salads. I used a raspberry vinaigrette, hoping he would like it.

He did. At least he was kind enough to say so.

I went back in the kitchen and plated the rest.

"This might be the finest lamb I've ever had. I rarely order it at a restaurant because it's often over cooked and dry. This is perfect. How is it you cook so well?"

"My mother is a wonderful cook, and she taught me. I don't get a chance to cook often--cooking for one is burdensome--but I still have all my favorite recipes. I'm glad you like it."

"I can't think of anything about you I'm not thoroughly in love with."

I blushed and looked down.

"I'm not used to being worshiped this way. Truth be told, most men in my life have only wanted to use me, I'm afraid. Why are you so different?"

"Guilt, I suppose."

"Guilt? Whatever for?"

"When you told me about your first couple of years of college and all the --"

"One-night stands?"

"Right. One-night stands. Well, I was convicted in my heart. That would describe me as well back then."

"What changed for you?"

"Being used."

"By your wife?"

He simply nodded, his eyes full of tears.

I stood and moved beside him and put my arm around him.

"I suppose each of us learned the most when we were hurt."

"I simply realized how shallow I had been in my relations with women."

"Because she was shallow with you?"

"She was too much like me. She used me. That's when I took a hard look at myself and decided when given the chance at love, I would treat her as if on a pedestal. I know that seems like antiquated language, but it's how I feel about you."

It was my turn for tears.

"My past convinced me to change as well."

"Lauren ... I think there's something we should talk about."

"Sex?"

"I know it's on our minds, and I would not want to have it come between us, not understanding ... Well, without knowing why I want to wait."

"You don't want me to ever think you are using me."

"Never. Will you feel hurt if I insist on waiting?"

"I'll feel I'm on a pedestal."

------[]----[]------

In truth, I felt somewhat convicted--or at least confused. I had the same conviction. Wait until marriage. That worked in theory--until theory and conviction collided with desire. I wanted to wait and yet craved his touch--more than touch. I craved him.

Only three dates and my convictions were in danger of crumbling.

------[]----[]------

For the next three months, Ron--my Mikhail--and I found a lot of fun things to do together. Of course, there were more days on the boat, but he also took me horseback riding twice.

I had never been on a horse. I was so tense the first time that the next day I could hardly move. I lived on Ibuprofen for two days. The second time I was more relaxed.

We went for picnics in the park, attended a concert, and found a dance venue to try out. That was a disappointment, so we went to Ron's house and started a playlist of slow dance music and danced together. It was incredibly romantic. We had to repeat that once a month.

We kissed a lot. I loved being in his embrace, feeling his strength, and now and then coaxing him to speak to me in Russian. My crude, raw sexual impulses were more under control, although when we danced and I felt his hardness against me, their existence was reaffirmed.

Our love deepened. Matured, I suppose. No longer the mere flash of lust, but a feeling of deep commitment to each other, to our hopes and dreams, and we shared more of our fears.

------[]----[]------

It was winter soon. No more boating days. Instead, an evening by the fireplace.

"Ron, have you ever read Persuasion?"

"Isn't that the book by Anne Frank?"

I started laughing.

"No, Jane Austen's last novel, published after her death."

"Is that the one they talked about in The Lake House?"

"Right! I've been reading it lately. It's about a young woman who is deeply in love with a sailor around 1800 in England. She was from an aristocratic family, and they were horrified at the prospect of her marrying someone far beneath her standing. They persuaded her to break things off and she told him why she was doing it.

"Eight years later, she was still pining for him, but she knew she had hurt him. In that period of years, he had risen to the rank of captain and had become wealthy due to taking prizes at sea in the Napoleonic wars.

"They crossed paths again. Spoiler alert: despite misunderstandings and misstarts, they realized their enduring love for each other. It's a story about persuasion to do something wrong and then forgiveness.

"I found a quote that describes us, I think:

"There could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved.

"That's how I feel about you, Ron. I also found one that describes me:

"She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older: the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning.

"I was disgusted and ashamed of myself and decided to take another path, but it was a path of denial. Prudence, if you will. With you, I've learned to love, really love. To want something higher, not as a form of denial, but out of love for you."

"That reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Nabokov. His book, Lolita, was scandalous. It was written in English originally and is basically about a pedophile. However, I love this observation: The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.

"There is more depth to our love now than a few months ago. The wave of lust we both felt has not disappeared but has been overlaid by deeper currents."

"I like that. ... I love you, Mikhail."

"Moye serdtse tvoye."

"My heart is yours?"

"Very good!"

------[]----[]------

I received an email from Ron the next day.

Dearest Lauren:

Please do me the honor of dining with me at La Tour d'Or this Friday. I will pick you up at 7:15. I will be wearing my finest suit, and I hope you will wear that beautiful black dress you wore on our first date.

All my love,

Ron (Mikhail Andreyev)

I was going to surprise him. I had bought a long black dress, very formal, except for the slit all the way up the side of my right thigh. I decided to add a garter belt to enhance the teasing view with each step I took.

I considered a push-up bra to enhance my decolletage, but realized the dress was basically backless. The girls would have to roam freely. I knew Ron would love it.

That night, Ron looked as handsome as ever. He complimented me on my dress and helped me into the car. I loved to tease him, so I made sure the dress fell away as I got in, exposing my entire right leg, including the top of my stocking and a garter.

I may have been committed to waiting, but I was not above serious teasing!

One of the great things about this restaurant is how closely it tracks ingredients it can source fresh, meaning in season. The menu changes often. Last time I had pheasant, but that was early Fall. This time I chose Coq du Vin and Ron ordered Bouillabaisse. The theme had become soup-like dishes for us that night.

We talked and joked about things, thoroughly enjoying each other's company.

"Remember the first time we came here?"

"It was our first date. I was nervous."

"So was I. You looked so ravishing in that little black dress. The dress you're wearing now would have driven me crazy."

"It doesn't now?"

He started laughing.

"No, I mean it would have been too much for me."

"So, you're immune to my charms now?"

"Ok, back me into an uncomfortable corner if you will, but I know you well enough to see through that."

It was my turn to laugh.

"I appreciate our love for each other and how it's more substantial now. I mean, I still want to jump your bones and have my way with you, Ron, but I'm so in love with you. It's not just raw lust."

Ron kissed my hand.

"Waiting has been difficult, but I agree. Our love is stronger now."

Our food was served, and we ate, still chatting.

When our plates were cleared, our waiter asked whether we would like to see the dessert menu. Ron answered.

"I don't think so. I called earlier and asked for a special dessert. Are you aware of that?"

"Certainly, sir. I will bring that out."

"A special dessert? How mysterious. It must be good."

"I've been looking forward to it for a while."

The waiter returned and set a plate with a lid over it in front of me.

"Aren't you having anything?"

"I think we'll share."

I removed the lid and there was an open jeweler's box with a diamond ring of white gold. My hand went to my mouth as I gasped.

Ron reached over and took the box, removed the ring, and dropped to one knee beside the table.

"Lauren, I thought I knew how love felt, until I loved you. I thought I knew happiness, until I spent time with you. I thought I could live independently, until I was apart from you.

"Now I know you complete me. My happiness knows no limits when you are beside me. My love is full, my joy surprising.

"Lauren, will you marry me?"

Tears were streaming down my face. With my right hand I was trying to mop them with my napkin. I held out my left hand and Ron slipped the ring on my finger.

There were cheers from the tables around us. Some even stood!

"Yes! Konechno, ya vyydu za tebya zamuzh.

Ron's mouth dropped open.

"Did you really just say, 'Of course I'll marry you' in Russian?"

"I've been practicing for a while."

------[]----[]------

Both of us just wanted to elope and avoid all the work and planning involved in a wedding. Neither of our mothers would think of it.

His mother, Elena, charmed me. She spoke English well, but with a heavy Russian accent. She also interspersed a lot of Russian words with her English. I fell in love with Nikolai, Ron's father. He was a charmer!

Both his parents tried to remember to call him Ron, but to them he would always be Mikhail.

My parents were thrilled to meet Ron. I'm privately convinced my mother had given up on me ever marrying and having children.

Ron and I didn't need to discuss that. We both knew we wanted children and the clock was ticking. Although I had taken birth control pills for years, a month before our wedding I stopped. I knew timing was such I could conceive on our honeymoon. I hoped for it.

He asked me whether I wanted to honeymoon in Russia. He could tell from my face it wasn't my first choice.

"Ron, I want to visit there with you as my guide, but I've always dreamed of Paris for my honeymoon. Could we do that?"

I leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"If I've calculated correctly, I should be capable of conceiving a few days after our wedding."

------[]----[]------

We spent our first night at the Four Seasons, and from there we would fly to Paris the next day.

Ron carried me across the threshold. I hugged him and we kissed. I whispered in his ear.

"Baby, I've got five months of desiring you that's coming to an end tonight. I hope you're ready for a long night."

When I came out of the bathroom, I was wearing a black ensemble. Forget virginal white. I wasn't one and I had learned black was his favorite color for lingerie. I included a classic garter belt and stockings. The same ones I had been wearing the night we got engaged.

Ron was sitting in bed. I was pretty sure he was naked under the covers. That was fine with me!

I got in bed and moved over by him. He scooted down so we were face to face.

"I love you, Mikhail, he who is like God."

"YA tebya lyublyu."

By now I recognized "I love you." I was swooning, as both of us knew I would. We watched Jamie Lee Curtis together. My model.

He was naked and I held him in my hand. Large and hard. I was moaning as I stroked him, knowing how it was likely going to feel sliding into me.

As if I wasn't wet enough, Ron kissed me and then kissed most of my body as he slowly undressed me, leaving only my garter belt and stockings. He was speaking Russian, and for once I didn't care to know what it meant. I was just turned on by it.

Pure Jamie Lee Curtis!

Then he went down on me, and I was shooting upward toward a climax in record time. His tongue was thrilling me, teasing, tormenting. I was gasping, my breathing awkward. When his finger entered me, I lost it. I arched my back and froze, unable to do anything in that paroxysm of orgasm, until I returned to earth.

He entered me. Slowly at first, tentative. More tormenting and withholding what I craved. I started to reach for his ass, but before I could grab it and pull, he plunged into me and I cried out, surrendering to the nearly unendurable pleasure.

This was beyond what I had imagined.

In addition to not having had sex for years, Ron stretched me beyond anything in my experience. He stayed there, deep inside me, knowing I needed to adjust.

After a few seconds, I looked into his eyes and nodded, He began to properly plow me. He was relentless as he pulled way back and then dropped suddenly as I cried loudly. It was delicious!

I was grunting with each impact, whimpering as he pulled back. He kissed my neck, sucked on my ear. I was awash in a rapidly massing tidal wave of orgasm. I wrapped my long legs around him and just then that wave caught up with me.

I clung to him as I uttered a long, sustained cry.

He waited, then resumed plowing my folds. He was moving faster now, his breathing erratic, gasping and moaning until he pushed deep inside me and groaned. I felt him pulsing inside and hung on as he trembled, filling me.

I had never experienced anything so powerful.

This was why we waited. This most glorious expression of a deep love. This had substance.

It took a few minutes for us both to breathe properly again. Ron rolled off and pulled me to him. I half turned and put my arm across him.

"Holy shit, Ron, that was amazing!"

"You've always had a powerful way of expressing a thought."

We were laughing. Then we kissed.

"I love you so much, my dear. You're a beast in bed."

"Should I put that on my firm bio?"

"No way. I don't want to fend off babes."

"There's only one babe in my life."

"Do you suppose that will get me pregnant?"

"No way of knowing, but I would hate to leave it at one dose."

A few minutes later, he pummeled me doggy style. So big and so deep! I was almost screaming from the insistent pounding. It didn't hurt. Quite the contrary! It was one of the best things I've ever felt.

Then we showered and fell into bed. Naked and me in his arms.

Several hours later--I wasn't sure what time it was--I woke up and kissed his nipple, then sucked on it and flicked it with my tongue. I could tell when he was awake because he moaned. Then he laughed and got out of bed.

For a second I thought he was mad that I woke him.

He reached for me and pulled me over to the side where he was standing. He picked me up and put me over his shoulder and carried me to the table in our suite, where he laid me down, pulled up a chair, and dined on my pussy until a screaming orgasm signaled the next course.

He stood and entered me carefully, making sure I was well-lubricated. Once he was deep inside me, he pulled on my hips as he thrust hard into me. I grabbed the edges of the table to hold on.

His thrusts were relentless and drove me quickly to another orgasm, moments before he moaned and filled me again. I didn't want him to move. Feeling his body on mine was heavenly.

A few minutes later I was safely snuggled next to him with his arm around me.

------[]----[]------

The next morning, we had to rush to get breakfast and then drive to his house to leave the car and call an Uber. We got to the airport in plenty of time and it was then I learned Ron had bought first class tickets.

I had never flown first class, but he explained to me first class international was far above first class domestic.

After just a few minutes, long before the plane was loaded and ready to taxi, I learned this is how the others live. I was sitting there with a sparkling water, looking at the large screen in front of me. The only thing I didn't like was how far away Ron was. When I mentioned that, he pointed out this was so we could recline our seats into beds.

Still, I thought, why have a bed and discourage sex in it?

------[]----[]------

Our five nights in Paris were so much fun. Well, so were the days, just different activities. We made love each night, at least twice. My hips were hurting after two nights, and we were walking a lot during the day. Since I didn't plan to reduce either activity, it was Ibuprofen time.

We saw everything on the list we had made to prepare for our honeymoon. We also used some lube, because the third night I was getting a little raw inside. There was no thought of stopping. Just increased lubrication.

I loved cowgirl with Ron, watching his face as I dropped down his hard pole. I especially liked leaning forward so he could play with my nipples. I'm sure he liked not having to do so much of the work. I drove us both to climaxes and then collapsed on his chest.

The hotel had a pool, so we swam once a day. Usually right before sex, although it would be more correct to say the swimming led to sex.

It was the third day before I went down on him and gave him a blowjob that ended explosively in my mouth. I loved having such total power over him!

Our last night, Ron pushed me against the wall and took me from behind. With his power and height, he was lifting me to my toes with each thrust. My body was pressed against the wall as he came inside me.

I knew I needed more of that.

The next night, we arrived home in the late afternoon and took an Uber home, meaning Ron's house. We were going to sell my house and combine our furniture, but that could wait.

When we got home, we showered together and collapsed in bed to sleep. Four hours later, I was looking up at Ron's face as he came inside me. I held him tightly, savoring all the skin that was touching. We got home on a Saturday, had Sunday to relax, and then it was back to work. When I arrived at work. I found my nameplate now read, "Lauren Anderson." I actually cried for joy when I stood and looked at it.

But for two things, it might have felt I hadn't left. First, I was going home to Ron every night, which almost always meant going home to sex. Second, I knew my period was a week late.

------[]----[]------

I waited about three weeks. One night, I got home about 30 minutes before Ron. I was waiting, nude, when he walked in from the garage. When he reached for me, I stuck out my left hand to stop him, and with my right, I showed him the positive test.

He yelled for joy.

Then he carried me to bed and we made love. Afterwards, Ron held me.

"I can't believe we're both going to realize our dream of having children."

"Well, I didn't think we could do it separately."

He was laughing.

"You know what I mean. Each of us had that dream. Now it's happening."

About six weeks later the ultrasound technician said we were having a boy. Ron and I worked on an email to send to our two law firms, an announcement that our partnership was expanding.

About seven months later, I was in a delivery room, scared to death and squeezing Ron's hand. I say I was scared to death, but even though I had been given a drug to help me relax, I was still scared, not having done this before.

I was screaming again, but this was far from orgasmic. It hurt like hell!

The next thing I knew, I was holding Evan and Ron kissed my forehead.

A little while later, I was in my hospital room and a nurse was teaching me about proper nursing technique. I got to try it for the first time. It wasn't at all like Ron playing with my nipples, but it was loaded with emotional meaning. I was nursing my own baby. I loved looking at Evan's face as he nursed.

About six weeks later, I faced a difficult decision. I knew Ron and I would have at least one more child. Maybe two. We were going to have them close together. I kept thinking about the implied disdain one of my professors expressed about women who would quit a promising career over children. That's what I was contemplating.

I fully support women who choose to balance work and children. I don't know how they do it, but kudos to them. In my case, I wanted to be at home. I didn't want to outsource caring for my baby and miss experiences that could not be repeated with Evan.

Ron supported my decision. I left the door open with my law firm, because I felt at some point, when the kids were older, I would want to return.

If society is made up of individuals who grew up in families, perhaps my greatest contribution to society would be to raise good children. I hoped it would be multigenerational, but the moment I had that thought, I realized it was. I owed Mom and Dad another big thank you.

------[]----[]------

When Evan was eight months old, Ron and I decided I would stop the birth control I had been on since Evan's birth. I felt wonderful and wanted to have another.

Ten months later, Maya was born. She was beautiful, with fine, blond hair. I was an old hand at childbirth, but it still hurt, and I still squeezed Ron's hand hard.

We had upgraded our house by then. With my proceeds of sale and selling our home, we could afford a house with another bedroom and a pool. I used the pool throughout that second pregnancy and was in better physical condition.

Now things got crazier. Evan was on formula, but I was nursing Maya. We had to have them in separate bedrooms, or she would wake him. Ron took care of Evan when he cried at night. I took Maya.

This time I waited a year. We decided on having one more. Nearly two years after Maya, Heather joined our family. I had my family. Ron and I were closer than ever. We were down to twice a week for sex, but we had committed to make that happen. We didn't ever want to ignore that.

Evan was almost 40 months old and running all around the house. I learned to head him off rather than chase him down. Maya was just over two and walking. Heather was a month old.

I was happier than ever in my life. I finally had a sense of things Mom told me about her love for Dad and for us. How rewarding it was. I totally got that now.

------[]----[]------

Four years later, Ron and I were lying in bed, catching our breath after he had just done me doggy style. It had taken a while, but I could wear both of those black dresses again. I loved wearing sexy lingerie for Ron. I knew I looked good and turned him on easily.

Ok, he did the same to me!

"Honey, I've been thinking."

"Uh-oh."

"What does that mean?"

"When you start with 'I've been thinking,' it usually means you've been thinking of something you want me to do."

"I suppose that's true here as well. I want you to impregnate me."

"What?"

"You heard me. I want another baby. Is that ok with you?"

"I hadn't thought about it but tell me why."

"I've found being a mother is the most fulfilling thing I've ever done. Being a wife and a mother. I'm healthy and strong. I'm craving one more."

"Let's do it. Are you stopping your birth control?"

"I didn't want to if you didn't agree, but I will now."

Eleven months later, Michael was born. Mikhail was proud!

------[]----[]------

On our tenth wedding anniversary, we visited St. Petersburg and Moscow. Mikhail showed me the apartment building in Moscow where he lived and the school he attended. We made love almost every night on that trip.

We were lying in bed one night after I rode him to explode inside me.

"Ron, I had no idea when Joe asked me to come to his office that a client engagement would lead to all this. Tell me what you honestly thought when you saw me that first time."

"I thought you were beautiful, but I wondered whether you had enough experience for the task. I was wrong. You were ahead of me on most of what we did."

"I'm not sure about that. I thought we were inspiring each other by collaborating. You know, after that, I incorporated a lot of your language into my templates I used as a starting point for various types of agreements."

"That's funny. I did the same, but with your language."

"How did we go from that to this?"

"We learned to love. We allowed love to grow."

"You know, I'm glad I married over my head."

"Why do think that? I mean, that I was over your head?"

"You're taller by six inches. No seriously, you're amazing. So bright, so caring. You have loved me so much, and you're such a wonderful father."

"I feel I married over my head for many of the same reasons, so I suppose that's a good sign."

"I suppose it is. Do you have any regrets?"

"None. My life with you has been magical."

"I only have one. We've never made love in the cabin in the boat."

"We need to fix that. You get to choose the position."

"Doggy. Nailed to the bed by your hard cock."

------[]----[]------

I lay in bed that night after Ron went to sleep. I thought about things Mom said to me, about her love for Dad and us. How fulfilling it was.

I want my four children to be able to choose the happiness I've found. I'll start by teaching them to wait for love.