Last night Gil and I were in the middle of some much needed coupledom.   I’m talking sex, and yes, it had been a while.  Because, well, life gets crazy and hectic, and often these meshing together sessions are at the bottom of our to-do list.

Things were moving along quite smashingly when Gil’s phone went haywire — it lit up the entire room.

“Do you need to get that?”  I whispered, as we continued, heading towards a grand finale.

“Uh uh,”  Gil tried to pretend we weren’t being rudely interrupted. 

During moments such as these, I can’t help but reflect on how relationships evolve.  

Gil and I continued right along, while I asked numerous questions about the caller, and though he said repeatedly, “Vivi, can you please focus and not think about my phone.  It’s not a big deal,”  I couldn’t help myself.  It was ludicrously distracting.

As we continued, I learned that the guy calling was named Ted, and he was finishing up some duct work on a sushi bar that Gil is building.

That’s construction for you.

“Why is he working at ten o’clock at night?”

“Well, because he can’t get over there early enough tomorrow and he offered to run by this evening.  I didn’t realize it was going to be this late, though.  Can we please stop talking about Ted?”

I wasn’t so much annoyed as simply perplexed.  The phone was silent long enough for us to reach a happy, mutual conclusion.

Me: “Do you need to call Ted back?”

Gil:  “No, I’m not calling Ted back now.  I can talk to him in the morning.”

Me:  “But he might need something.  It could be important.”

Gil:  “Viv, can you just be?”

Me:  “No, I’m hyper and highly distractible.  My mind never stops.”

Gil:  “I’m impressed that you were able to, well, you know, stay with me.  My job was completely infringing on our home life.  Your focus during sex is way better than it used to be.  

Me:  “Wow, thanks, Babe, I love that you can recognize progress.  I’m completely wired now.  I’m not going to be able to sleep.”

Gil:  “Oh my god, did you fake it?!”

Me:  “NO!!  I may be a lot of things, but I’m definitely authentic — especially in bed.”

Gil:  “Yeah that’s true.  You always tell me when you’re gonna fake it.”

Me (laughing):  “You are so right.  Oh my gosh, I really do need a mute button.  We’re the weirdest couple ever.”  

Gil drifts off to sleep and I start counting lemons.  Some people count sheep.  I prefer something more colorful.  Last night it was lemons.

The phone starts ringing again.  I get up, walk across the room and pick it up off the dresser.  

It’s Doug, Gil’s boss.  He’s very chill, but I feel a little panicky.  I recover quickly.  I mean, seriously, it’s almost eleven o’clock.  I kid you not, the phone has rung no less than five times in the last thirty minutes.  Naturally, I do not answer it, and now Gil is snoring softly.

A text message comes in from Doug — “Ted needs the key to get in the building — any idea what I should tell him?”

Now I’m all wrapped up in this sushi bar duct work project. 

I climb back into bed and nudge Gil gently,  “Hey, Ted needs the key to get in.  Want me to text Doug back?”

Gil jumps up half asleep, “No, I got it.  I’ll call him.”

Gil walks into the bathroom, and I hear him talking jovially with Ted.

At this point I decide that I’m cold and nude slumber will only make it worse.  I peek into the bathroom and see Gil, completely naked and in total work mode now pacing back and forth as he and Ted come up with a solution.

 I throw on some pajama pants and a tank top and head back to bed.

 I’m almost asleep and I feel Gil’s lips on my cheek.

 “I love you.  Thanks for putting up with me.  I’ll do my best to keep Ted and Doug out of our love nest from now on.” 
 
I smile and cringe in unison,  “Did you just refer to our bed as ‘our love nest’?”

 Gil laughs, “Ohhh yeahhhh.”

“Please don’t ever ever call it that again.  Thanks.  Love ya.  Good night!”

Married life is strange, in a good way — at least for today.