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“Ew. TradWife?” Quinn came back just in time. “Decca. No.”
“Maybe that can be your kink. Everyone has one.” Bethany winked. “Try it out. Look, I’m not saying quit your job and defer to him for all financial decisions. Just do a little greety-greet at the front door with a tray full of your famous biscuits and nothing but an apron. Itisyour honeymoon, still.“ She shrugged. “Might as well experiment. And before you say that’s a page out of my book, it isn’t. In my book I’m completely naked and suspended from a hook in the ceiling, begging him to punish me for not drinking all my water.” Bethany’s eyes glazed over. A slight smile played on hermouth before she bit into her juicy red bottom lip. “Sorry, where was I?”
“Dangling from your bedroom ceiling,” Soula said helpfully.
“Before that. Oh, right. Look, you’ve got no guarantees, anyway. Might as well take a chance. He’s not a priest just yet. Does all the fun naughty stuff need to stop after he gets ordained?”
I blushed. As sexually open as Bethany was, we’d never had such frank discussions when their eyes turned to me. I’d always pretended to be more comfortable with the frankness because that was who I wanted to be, but in actuality, I had nothing to add because I had very little idea what I was doing, or what I even liked. And I had no idea about how “naughty stuff” (which I assumed meant anything kinkier than missionary-position, penis-in-vagina intercourse) and the priesthood corresponded.
His ordination was in a few days. It didn’t change much. As a seminarian, he lived a spiritual life already, but I didn’t know if that would officially change anything on his part.
The internet wasn’t particularly forthcoming about Greek Orthodox priests getting kinky with their wives, so I honestly couldn’t answer where Gus or the Church stood on “naughty stuff”.
“Look, Quinn and I are up, but I will say one more thing I just thought of. Soula and Waylon started as a one-night stand. I couldn’t get George to open up to me until I basically forced him to dominate me. We found the loves of our lives through sex. Maybe sex will be the key to unlocking your marriage, too. If I’m to believe the rumors, Gus was once a very sexual creature.” She wagged her eyebrows like Groucho Marx. Because everything Bethany did was old school.
She was right, though. Not about the sex. Or the naughty stuff. But I hadn’t been open about our communication. Communicationwas scary when you didn’t have the kind of relationship that could back up the hard words.
Ordination loomed. The entire reason for my proposal.
Maybe after that, Gus would feel more solid. He was in a state of uncertainty right now. On the verge of his calling, but unable to act on it.
I hoped the collar would be enough for him.
Decca, First Communion
“How does it feel,the collar?” I leaned back against the kitchen counter and sipped my tea as Gus slipped the plastic tab into his slot of his black shirt for the first time.
“Stiff. Uncomfortable. Like everyone’s going to be looking at me.”
“They will be. I will be. This is your day, Gus. Your first Divine Liturgy, first communion… This is what you were born for, Father Constantinos.” I smirked.
Oh, those words felt good in my mouth. Warm and cozy. Spine tingling.
Over his clerical blacks, he donned his anderí. I put my cup down and stepped closer to him, reaching around him to tie it at the waist.
“I’m proud of you,” I said. “I know it’s not my place to feel that way.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because, I don’t know. I came in on the ground floor. I had nothing to do with your accomplishments. Devoting your life inthe service of your faith… that’s powerful. Maybe I should say I respect you, but that doesn’t completely cover it.”
And you’ve never looked more handsome in that collar and robe.
My heart hurt looking at my husband in his priest clothes for the first time. I ran my fingers across the tab at his throat and he swallowed heavily. He’d nicked the base of his neck shaving, and a tiny scab had formed on his smooth, olive skin. It took everything I had not to lean in and kiss that little wound better. Not to run my fingers through his long hair and rake them down his beard.
“I don’t know if I would have graduated without you, Dec. You kept me going.”
“Yeah, right. You had a roommate, friends, spiritual leaders.”
He pulled my hands away from him and squeezed them in his. His gaze was insistent. “It was lonely. Once I met you, it was lonely. After that night on Waylon’s porch, where we talked for hours, and it felt like we were the only two people in the world,” his eyes searched mine, begging me to believe him.
He paused, like he didn’t know how much was okay to say. “I almost didn’t go back. It didn’t seem worth it anymore, if I couldn’t have you in my life. But you stayed with me. And even if it was only over a screen, that little bit of you made all this feel possible. So if it’s pride you feel, you have every right to those feelings. This day belongs to you. You are my wife. I’m humbled and awed to belong to you.”
He stopped again, his eyes skating across my face. “If you could hear the prayers of thanks I offer God every day. For you. I know I’m not much of a husband to you. But don’t mistake my shame for disinterest. I’m still trying to find the bones, Decca. It’s just a little harder than I thought it’d be.”
Front pew. Right next to the aisle.
It wasn’t exactly the inconspicuous middle row I preferred, but as presvytera, I had a role to perform, almost as much as Gus.
