“So, you’re an ex-wife?” he asked. I was so shocked, but I laughed.
“Isn’t every wife an ex-wife? I mean, eventually?” I replied.
Grant Callum introduced me to Gerry and I am forever indebted to him, I just didn’t know it yet. Gerry knew who I was, knew the pen name I had used to write a book about my ex-husband, and I was nervous about that, nervous of Sean finding out what I wrote. As Gerard Frey took my hand I thought, okay, Mare, stop being nervous about my pen name, Lilah O’Rourke. It’s done, this stranger knows who wrote Ex-Wives’ and now it’s too late to close the barn doors.
“Gerry Frey, Mrs. Loch. So happy to meet you,” he said in his California cool accent. Gerard Frey was more handsome than Grant Callum and I didn’t think that was possible. He was probably over six foot tall, very fit and kind of beefy. I could tell he worked out and must be over 225 lbs., possibly more. He had brunette, almost black hair that was straight and short with temples of gray and his chiseled face was clean-shaven. He had heavily lidded eyes and crow’s feet - laugh lines to be sure - that surrounded those deep eyes. This man was my age, and he was beautiful, nothing saggy or old about him. I dare say, Gerry was the movie star of the media mogul world. Gerry was a lot.
I looked around and people were looking at him. Then I looked back at him, holding my hand and I could feel him. It was a familiarity as if I knew him already and he was looking at me the same way. It was also electric, as if he were sticking his fork in my wall socket.
“So, you’re an ex-wife?” he asked. I was so shocked, but I laughed, squeezing his hand, and then letting go.
“Isn’t every wife an ex-wife? I mean, eventually?” I replied. “Some of us have just done it more often than others.” I smiled and he took his chair and sat down next to me.
“What took you so long to write your book?” Gerry asked.
“Wow, you just get right to the point, don’t you Gerry? I like that,” I said, certain I was smiling too big.
“It appears we both get right to the point, Mare,” he answered.
“Gerry, I've never met anyone face-to-face who read my book. How did you find out my real name?” I asked, curious and a little terrified.
“My assistant traced it," he said casually. “Not only have I read it, but I’m also a fan. I wanted to meet you, Mare Loch,” he said and then smiled. Wish granted....
I took an earlier flight to Alice Springs the next day, away from Grant and Gerry. After Gerry left us, things had not gone well with Grant last night.
After lunch in Alice, as I walked back to my hotel, I turned down the hall to my room, noticing someone outside my door. He was squatting and leaning up against my door, face in his hands.
“Gerry?” He looked up and a big smile grew across his beautiful face.
“Hello, Mare Loch,” he said with a toothy smile. He stood and walked quickly to me and hugged me for a long time and then he pulled back, holding me at arm’s length. He could have texted me, I thought but then he shocked me. Gerry leaned down and briefly kissed my lips ever so lightly and then said, “I’m so sorry you had a bad day, Mare,” and then he hugged me again. It was as if a husband had come home and found his wife depressed and tried to cheer her up? I was overcome with emotion at his kindness, his tenderness, his reckless familiarity, and I hugged him back. This whole scene should be desperately inappropriate, but it didn’t feel that way. I hugged him harder, and he returned my affection. He smelled so good, too. Stop smelling him, Mare.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you,” he said and left it at that. We sat and talked for hours, and I found out that our dinner companion, Grant had spoken to Gerry about me. When Grant took me to a club last night after our dinner, he physically accosted me, trying to have sex with me in the corner of the dark dance floor. I was able to escape Grant’s advances and flew a day early to Alice Springs, knowing he wouldn’t be able to find me.
But Gerry did; Gerry found me. “Grant might have a different idea than I do about our relationship,” I pointed out to him. “He was hitting on me last night, Gerry.”
“I’m hitting on you too, Mare, just so we’re clear,” he said, shocking me yet again. I sat a minute gathering my thoughts, wondering how to address this. “Mare, trust me, you are an attractive and lovely person and I hope you’re ready for whatever the Lord’s got in mind for your life. And maybe you could be a little more cautious?” he spoke carefully, and I nodded.
“Uh-huh. So, I wonder, should I be more cautious now, here with you in the Outback?” Gerry looked me in the eye and nodded and I got a little chill.
“Yes,” he said seriously. Oh. I smiled and bit my lip, trying to put the pieces together. “Yeah, you should be more cautious. But I don’t want you to be. I want you to be just the way you are, with an open heart.”
Gerry and I talked until well after dark and we found we had things in common in funny and surprising ways. I had never felt so close to someone so fast, and it scared me. He was here; the one I had been waiting for.
I’ve been through so much and lost so much that I argued with myself. Was he the one or wasn't he? But I didn’t want to think about what I had lost anymore, I just wanted to think about Gerry. The good news was, Gerry just wanted to think about me.
About us.
Copyright Mare Loch 2021 © Excerpt from Saltair: The Midlife Celebrity Love Life of an Ex-Housewife. All rights reserved. Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.
The characters and events portrayed on this website and all subsequent publications are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this website may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Copyright Mare Loch 2021 © Ex-Wives' Sunday School: Journal of a Failed Housewife. All rights reserved. Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.
The characters and events portrayed on this website and all subsequent publications are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this website may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
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