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No Reason At All
In some ways, Pam has always known. Of course she has; it was only a matter of time before even her formidable powers of denial would prove no match for the plain truth of how much she loves him. It’s simply a fact, like the tiny freckle on her left hip (Jim’s finger lightly tracing a circle around it) or her perpetual craving for chocolate (the taste of it, mixed with champagne, when he took her to hide at their wedding, somewhere he could really kiss her, alone, because, well, finally.)
There are a thousand reasons why she loves him, always has. But, sometimes she thinks it’s just a force pulling her towards him, like some ancient instinct. Familiar, inevitable, but mysterious too. And yet. There are a few reasons she can name.
*****
She loves Jim because when he concentrates, or needs to say something important, he unconsciously licks his lips in a particular way. Sometimes it’s dead sexy. Other times it’s endearing. She can imagine him doing it as a child, before tentatively but bravely raising his hand in class, uncertain of his answer. He’d been willing to risk a guess with her too. Thank god.
*****
Pam loves him because he’s truly convinced that she’s the most talented artist in the world. Of course she isn’t. He pins, props and tapes her work up everywhere. If she’d let him, he’d spend his entire salary at the frame shop. She asks him to pose for her, and finds it endlessly amusing that he’s too shy, considering he’s never been modest around her before. He says that’s different. She promises to make his face vague, devoid of any identifying characteristics, but he tells her those aren’t the details he’s worried about.
When they go to her student art show, Jim’s so proud of her, it’s almost comical. She hugs him and shakes her head.
‘Imagine the attention I would have gotten if you’d just let me draw you with no clothes on,’ she teases him. ‘That would have given them something to talk about.’
‘Yeah, well, let’s go home and I’ll give you something to talk about,’ he retorts, making her blush.
But the truth is, his pride in her means everything. It’s like fuel in her creative engine. She thinks of him when she paints and it makes her feel powerful.
*****
She loves him because when he makes love to her, he fills her completely. In every way imaginable. His eyes are deep and dark and hungry for her and it makes her want to open herself to him. In every way imaginable. He withholds nothing from her. She knows how it feels to be adored.
*****
She loves Jim because the first time she goes out on her own after the baby is born, to attend an evening sketch group, she rushes home early. It’s not because she’s nervous – he’s proven to be as good a mom as she is – but because she misses them. When she walks into the house it’s quiet and she goes upstairs to find him in the rocking chair dozing, Lily asleep, curled against his chest (how good it feels to sleep with her own head lying there.) His hands hold her protectively, almost completely enveloping her tiny body. Her hair is the same color as her daddy’s, her eyes and mouth the same beautiful shape. Pam thinks this is a miracle.
‘How long has she been sleeping?’ she whispers, crouching down alongside them.
‘About a half hour,’ he replies.
‘Why didn’t you put her down in her crib and try to get some rest?’ she asks, brushing the hair off his forehead and kissing his cheek.
He just shrugs and smiles softly. ‘It’s nice here with her.’
Later, when Lily wakes them at four in the morning, Jim brings her to Pam to nurse in bed. They all go back to sleep in a tangle, his arms around them both, surprisingly strong baby fists grasping his perfect, long fingers. This is my family, Pam thinks.
*****
Pam loves him because shortly after she’s weaned Lily, she gets out of the shower to find Jim in his boxer shorts, shaving. She studies herself critically in the steamy mirror for a moment as she’s drying off, relieved to see that she finally looks much the same as in her pre-baby days. But still, she wonders. She’s heard stories about some men no longer viewing their wives’ bodies as erotic after witnessing them give birth, nurse, become mothers.
Jim’s never given her any reason to suspect he feels this way; in fact, his passion for her never waned throughout her pregnancy (the unexpected sensuality of discovering ways to connect, once she’d gotten so big that the sheer geometry of it could prove a challenge.) He even liked the additional roundness she retained for the first few months after Lily was born. Pam, however, has never been a stranger to insecurity.
Regarding herself in the mirror, she blurts out, ‘Do you still like my breasts?’ She’s embarrassed as soon as she says it.
Not expecting this, Jim can’t help but laugh. ‘You have incredibly beautiful breasts. Even Michael’s a big fan and he’s never even seen them up close and personal…I hope.’
Seeing her begin to look a little exasperated, he continues, ‘Pam, you know I love them. I mean, I’ve hardly made my admiration a secret.’ Then, looking at her dubiously, he adds, ‘What’s this all about?’
Feeling like a total idiot, she presses on anyway, ‘I just want to know if you still see me, you know….the way you used to? I mean, when you see my breasts now, can you not think of me nursing, or when we’re…’
Before she can finish, he moves behind her and runs his hands up her stomach to gently cup her breasts. Planting his lips against her still damp neck, he caresses them, making her breath catch when he rubs his thumbs over her nipples. He turns her around in his arms to face him and as she melts into him, she can feel his arousal. Still holding her breasts in his hands, he leans down to graze his mouth over them, moaning slightly as he covers them with kisses in a way that leaves no doubt about how he sees them…or sees her.
*****
Pam loves Jim because when she comes down sick with the flu, he straps a fussy Lily in her car seat and drives through traffic across town, to the one shop that carries the only type of tea she thinks she can stomach. That night, when her fever spikes and she lies in bed shivering, he gets in and wraps himself around her to warm her up.
When she cautions him that she’s contagious, he says ‘Fuck it. I’ve got all your cooties by now anyway,’ and holds her while she sleeps.
By the end of the week, he’s sick too.
*****
She loves him because no matter how well he combs his hair, by midday it’s curling up around his collar and all mussed up. In the most tempting way. (The soft feel of it between her fingers when he bends down and whispers in her ear.) There are times, when the urge to run her hands through it is almost irresistible. Mostly she doesn’t. Resist.
‘For God’s sake, Pam,’ he’ll joke with her. ‘Will you stop messing up my hair?’
But sometimes the urge strikes when they’re in inappropriate places: at the office; a pediatrician’s appointment; the bank closing for their house. It’s all she can do to keep her hands to herself. Jim thinks her predicament is funny, but she tells him it’s serious, an affliction with no cure.
‘Good thing I married you then,’ he says.
*****
She loves him because the night before her final review at art school, he watches the baby while she races to finish her last pieces. She is anxious, afraid of being judged harshly, exposed as a pretender. He reassures her best he can, but still she lies in bed restless, unable to sleep. There’s clearly nothing he can say to calm her nerves.
So instead, without saying a word, he pushes the covers away and slides down the bed next to her. He looks up and their eyes meet in the semi-darkness as he props himself on one arm, his other hand stroking her calf. Still holding her gaze, he gently but firmly pushes her legs apart, and she bends them up for better access. Her eyes close and she tilts her head back as he lowers his cheek to rub against the inside of her knee. Beginning there, he kisses his way slowly along her inner thighs, going back and forth between them as he progresses upward. When there’s no further to go, he nuzzles her for a moment. She’s already half way there. With her increasing sighs as encouragement, he pushes back a little, hooks his fingers under her panties and peels them off as she lifts herself to help. As he quickly turns his attention back to where she now desperately needs it, she grasps his head in both her hands, her fingers entwined in his hair. He takes his time, obliterating all her worries as her cries mount to a peak. He stays with her until they ease slowly off again.
Afterwards, he moves back up the bed and pulls her into his arms. A deep relaxation has replaced her anxiety and she knows he can tell.
‘Get some sleep, babe,’ he whispers, softly kissing her goodnight. It’s clear that he expects nothing in return, even though she can feel how hard he is for her now, thick and heavy with desire against her hip. The feeling of this, combined with his apparent lack of expectation, makes her want to give him everything. So she does. Eventually, she falls into a deep, restful sleep.
*****
Pam loves him because he was right, her review goes really well. She’s so relieved that she grabs him and kisses him hard as soon as she walks in the door. She tells him all about it and he wants to know everything that was said. He tells her he’s not surprised, but he doesn’t say ‘I told you so.’ He’s just clearly thrilled for her. He wants to know when she can bring her work home so he can have it framed.
‘You know, Jim, if you keep this framing mania up, I’m going to start thinking you’ve got something going on with the girl in the frame shop,’ she says laughing, as she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him again.
*****
She loves him because there are things he’s known about her all along. She loves him for big reasons and small. But really, she doesn’t need any reason at all. Just the very fact of him is enough.
