Flirting with Fire: A Summer Camp Swingers novel

“No, and we won’t tell them. Besides, I think Laurie might know already.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm. I was her age when I started fooling around.”

“Hold on,” I said. “You don’t think she—? I mean—”

“With Missy? No, of course not. She’s way too young.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Missy was too young. We shared a birthday, and she’d only just turned eleven.

“But Laurie and Jessica…?” Christy said.

“Hold on… Jessica?” I blinked in disbelief. “The one who spent the night back in May? That Jessica? Her parents are diehard Bushies, super-conservative!”

“So were mine.”

“They were actually pretty liberal.”

“My father wasn’t.”

“He’s mellowed in his old age,” I conceded, “but you know what I mean. Your mother knew what you were up to.”

“She did. Only, she wanted me to have a life, so… she looked the other way. Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to get pregnant.”

“No.”

“Speaking of which—”

Some part of me envied her ability to mold the conversation like the clay she used for her models. I would’ve thought it was unconscious if I hadn’t known her for twenty-odd years. Then again, maybe it was. She had a vision of what she wanted, whether it was a sculpture or more children, and she kept scraping away and applying pressure until reality bent to her will.

“—have you thought about what we talked about?” she finished.

“Do you really wanna talk about this now?” I said, a touch irritably. “I mean, Wren’ll be out of the shower in a minute, won’t she?”

“She knows already. She thinks we should do it.”

My anger flared, volcanic and sudden. “Oh, she does, does she? And damn the consequences?”

“Paul, I want this,” Christy replied calmly, “more than anything.”

“And I want a happy wife!”

“This will make me happy.”

“You aren’t happy now?” I shot back.

“Of course I am. You know that. But I’d be happier with more children, especially now that I’m sober. It’s been two years, Paul.”

“No, and that’s final.” I regretted the words as soon as I’d said them. I normally wasn’t the overbearing type, and my normally submissive wife could be the exact opposite, especially when she wanted something.

“My doctor thinks—”

“I don’t care what she thinks.” Silence greeted my outburst, which made me feel even worse.

“Okay,” Christy said at last.

“Okay, what?” I snarled. “Okay, we won’t have any more kids? Or okay, you’ll stop asking?” I didn’t need to add “for now.” She knew.

“Paul, I can’t explain it. I wish I could, but I can’t. I just know that I want more children.”

“Well, I don’t! I’m happy with the ones we have.”

“But… I want a son.”

Part of me did too—an old-fashioned, sexist, irrational part. My daughters already carried my genes. Who cared about a name?

“I don’t want to argue,” Christy said into the silence.

Then why’d you bring it up?

“But we need to decide. Soon. I talked to my doctor. She knows about my depression, too. I’ll take meds. I’ll go to counseling. I’ll do whatever you want. Only… please, I need this. Besides, you know how I am.”

“You mean, you’ll keep asking until you get what you want?”

To her credit, she actually managed to sound apologetic. “Yes.”

I huffed in disgust. Since when was she the rational one?

“We’ll talk about it,” I grumbled. “But not now.”

“Okay.” She let my temper cool from spewing lava to a smoking caldera. Then she calmly changed the subject. “Did Emily make the dip?”

“Yes.”

“I knew she would. I’d’ve waited till tomorrow. I think it tastes better fresh, but…”

“She doesn’t like waiting till the last minute.”

“No,” Christy agreed. “She’s too much like you, Mr. Planner.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no! I’m glad she is, even if she drives me crazy sometimes. She reminds me why I love you.”

I wanted to stay angry at her, but I just couldn’t.

“Because you drive me crazy,” she said in a low voice. “Maybe we can—”

“God,” Wren said in the background, “that was exactly what I needed.”

“To be continued,” Christy whispered into the phone. In a louder voice, “The network wouldn’t connect or something, so they had to do everyone’s registration the old-fashioned way.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, which did wonders for my mood.

“That’s why it took so long,” she continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“You’re a terrible liar,” I told her. “Wren will know exactly what we were talking about.”

“I don’t think so,” Christy said, which was innocuous enough.

“Anyway, it’s probably good that you had to change the subject.”

“Oh, I suppose,” she said wistfully.

I rolled my eyes, Wren-style.

“I heard that,” Christy laughed.

“You know me too well.”

“Mmm, I do.”

“Still your favorite words?” I said.

“Yes. Even after all these years.”

“Oh, stop flirting,” Wren said in the background. Then she raised her voice to speak directly to me, “Get your own woman. This one’s mine! For an entire week!”

“Oh, brother,” I said, another Wren-ism. They’d been lovers since before I’d met them, so I couldn’t really begrudge her. “Do you want to talk to the girls?” I asked Christy.

“Yes, please. And would you give Laurie a call? She said she wanted to talk to you.”