The blonde smiled back. “No problem-I’ll take this up when you’re ready.” The waitress slipped the leather case containing the bill in front of Laura, who looked at it with her lips pursed.
“I thought this was what feminism tried so hard to fight against?” Rick squeezed lemon into his water. “Men in control, women being subservient. You really want to be subservient to me?”
She sighed and pushed her chair back from the table. “I have to pee.”
Rick signaled the waitress again as Laura made her way to the bathroom. She closed the stall door and swallowed a scream. Her face felt hot and dry, her throat constricted-her whole body felt like one big clenched muscle. How could he not understand what it was that she wanted from him? How could he be so blind?
When she left the stall, she washed her hands, glancing at her reflection in the mirror as she held them under a dryer. The air blew her long dark hair over her shoulders. There were two rosy spots on her cheeks, the glow that always crept in whenever she was angry or upset. Straightening her blouse and tucking it into the waistband of her long flowered skirt, she wondered if this was just as good as it ever got. Maybe it was.
The check was still sitting there at the table, untouched. Rick used his last sausage to clean the syrup from his plate, smiling up at her and winking. On a whim, she pulled her chair around and sat next to him, her thigh rubbing up against his under the table.
“Hey, there’s my girl.” He put his arm around her and leaned back with a little groan, his hand covering his belly. “That was a good breakfast. You ready for another day in Bedrock? Maybe the Great Gazoo will be able to help us, huh?”
Laura laughed in spite of herself, letting her body relax against his side. Maybe good enough just was-good enough.
* * * *
“Why are you here?” The question stopped Laura, and she felt herself recoiling from it. She stared into the dark, penetrating gaze of the facilitator, who Rick called “The Great Gazoo,”-when he wasn’t calling him an asshole-and found she couldn’t keep the truth from him, as much as her rational mind tried to stop her.
Not in front of all these people! What are you thinking?
“My husband doesn’t know this…” She glanced guiltily over at Rick. “But I told myself that if this workshop didn’t change things between us, I was going to leave.”
“So is this your ultimatum?” Gazoo asked. Laura couldn’t help thinking of him as Gazoo now-especially since they had to choose “fake names” for themselves, and Rick had dubbed them “Wilma” and “Fred.”
“The Great Gazoo” looked down at Rick. Laura felt the eyes of the entire room on them-a thousand people, all watching.
“I guess.” Laura shrugged, talking into the cordless microphone he had given her. “I just don’t know how to get him to change. I try-I’ve tried giving him things to do, putting him in charge of things around the house…”
“Whoa!” Gazoo’s eyes brightened and he held his hand up to stop her, looking at Rick and raising his eyebrows. “Is that true? Has she put you in charge of things around the house?”
“Uh…” Rick’s gaze slanted toward his wife as Gazoo gave him the microphone. “Yeah. I guess. I was in charge of the bills for a while-but then she took it all back.”
“Well, after four hundred dollars in bounced check fees…” Laura started, but stopped when Gazoo held up his hand again.
“Does she ever tell you how she’s feeling?” he asked Rick. “Does she ever express her emotion spontaneously in the moment? The feminine is like water-she flows, all the time. One minute, she’s up, the next she’s down. She’s all over the place. Does that describe your wife?”
Rick swallowed. “Uh… no.”
“You don’t trust this man.” Gazoo turned back to her and Laura winced.
“Yes, I do.” She protesting, putting her hand on Rick’s arm. “Of course I do! He’s my husband.”
“You say you do.” Gazoo shook his head. “Look, you say you want him to be the masculine energy in your relationship, yes? You’re tired of being the one in charge, and you want to be able to relax into your feminine flow right? Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Laura nodded, in spite of the fact she didn’t like the way this sounded.
“But how can you expect a man to take charge, to be your direction and guidance, if you don’t trust him to lead you?”
Laura shook her head, but she had tears in her eyes.
“I have a practice for you, if you’re willing to do it.”
“A practice?” Rick sounded unsure.
“For the next twenty-four hours,” Gazoo went on. “I don’t want your wife to do anything without your guidance and direction. And I mean anything. She can’t even pee without you anticipating what she needs and wants.”
Laura’s eyes widened. “Can I talk?”
“You can talk if he says you can,” Gazoo replied. “But I suggest a non-verbal practice. So, if you can’t talk, how are you going to tell him what you need or want?”
Laura bit her lip, her gaze falling to the auditorium floor.
“Do you think you can do that?” he asked them. Laura and Rick looked at each other, doubtful. “Let me just get a show of hands. Who else thinks that this is a good practice for these two?”
Laura stared around in wonder as a thousand hands shot into the air. She didn’t like the idea-it scared the hell out of her-but she had told herself that she would do anything to change things between them. Was she willing?
“What do you say?” Gazoo asked. “It’s up to you. It’s not a mandate, just a practice. Twenty-four hours of your life.”
Laura grabbed the microphone from Rick, blurting, “Yes! We’ll do it.”
Her response had the whole auditorium laughing as Rick sat there, dumbstruck.
Gazoo chuckled too, his dark gaze settling on Rick. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, man. Is she always like this?”
Rick grimaced and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Not always…” Laura interjected, sitting forward. Gazoo held up his hand to her again, shaking his head.
“Did he tell you to speak?” The man raised his eyebrows. Laura’s mouth dropped open as he took the microphone from her. “Consider the practice started.”
Rick’s eyes widened and he looked bemused as he glanced over at Laura. Gazoo appeared satisfied and moved on to another couple. She crossed her arms and sat back in her seat, her face flushed.
Maybe this whole thing was like some strange time warp-she felt stifled and put into her place. That wasn’t at all how she imagined this would feel. She swallowed and glanced at “The Great Gazoo,” working his magic on another couple-if magic is what it was. I wish it was that easy, she thought and gave a deep sigh. Rick didn’t seem to notice.
* * * *
Rick had to come back for her at dinner time. She didn’t know how far he made it before he realized she wasn’t with him, but the auditorium was nearly empty and her stomach was growling. She saw Gazoo watching her, his eyebrows raised. She just sat there in her chair, arms crossed, waiting and fuming. She knew those rosy patches had appeared on her cheeks-she could never stop that.
She glared at Gazoo as he shuffled through papers on the podium. This was what she was supposed to do right? Wait for Rick to tell her what to do? She imagined she had laser beams for eyes to cut Gazoo in two for suggesting this little “practice” in the first place. Her jaw clenched and unclenched. She was so hungry she was getting shaky.
“You know…” Gazoo stopped by her on the way out, speaking softly. “There are nonverbal ways to communicate your feelings. Have you considered that?”
She looked up at him, opening her mouth to speak and then remembering she couldn’t-without Rick’s permission. She whirled to look for him, but he was still nowhere to be found. She turned back to Gazoo, sticking out her tongue at him.
“Yes!” He gave a little laugh. “Good! Gimme some more of that!”