Dating A Silver Fox (Never Too Late) (11 page)

Regina walked over to sit opposite Lauren’s mother, still having trouble believing Lydia McCarthy was really here. The last time she’d seen the woman this close, Casey had been escorting her and Lauren’s ex off Jim’s property. At every joint event since, the woman had kept her distance from both her and Alexa.

“You’re here to see me about. . .what exactly?” Regina asked, still too stymied to formulate a clear demand for explanation.

“The usual problems people come to see you about I suppose,” Lydia answered, not being vague on purpose. She truly didn’t know and figured she might as well admit it up front. “I don’t know what you can do. I just know Lauren told me once that you helped her. I thought maybe you might be able to help me.”

Regina pondered as she studied the woman now staring at her hands as she waited for a reply.

Then she debated. Was seeing Lydia a conflict of interest? No—not unless they talked about Lauren. Was it distasteful? Yes—extremely, but that never stopped her from taking on a case before.

“I can’t discuss Lauren or anything about Lauren with you. If you have problems with your daughter, I’ll have to refer you to another therapist,” Regina stated firmly.

“Why would I come to see you about Lauren? I thought you were a sex therapist, not a regular therapist,” Lydia said, confused at Regina’s words.

Regina looked surprised at the comment, but it was a valid point. Time to cut to the chase. “Sorry if I’m confusing you. I’m still flummoxed by the accident traffic I got caught in this morning. Am I to understand you’ve come to see me about a
sexual problem
you’re having?” she asked.

Lydia let out the breath she was holding and nodded. “Yes. I—I’ve met someone. He kissed me and I responded poorly. It’s just that. . .How do people ever talk to you about such private things?”

Regina stood and paced a moment to give herself time to think. Her instincts were humming, but this was the dragon lady that had made her friend’s life a fire burning hell all through a tortuous divorce and the barren years that followed until Jim. Now she was supposed to
help
her?

Regina was shaking her head, still debating, even as she walked back to sit across from Lydia again.

“Sometimes it takes a while to find the right words. I’ll help fill in the gaps if I can. But first. . .would you like some tea? I drink hot herbal tea. I have some that soothes frazzled nerves, and I could really use a cup this morning,” Regina said, not mentioning that Lydia’s appearance was far more stressful than getting stuck in traffic.

“Tea sounds lovely. I got sick and threw up while I waited for you. You probably think it’s silly for a woman my age to get all worked up over. . .
some man
,” Lydia said, the last words still surprising even her.

Regina let out a huff. “Are you kidding? My oldest client currently is a ninety-seven-year-old woman who’s having boyfriend problems. He’s in his eighties. I see them both regularly.”

“Ninety-seven? My, that is old. Well, I don’t think my boyfriend—I mean male friend—has any real problems, or at least none that I’m aware of. The man dates regularly. I’m the one…I guess you could say I’m the one with the problem if I. . .my God, this is hard,” Lydia said quietly. “I need to know if I can be fixed before my relationship with him goes any farther.”

Regina blinked at Lydia’s very genuine distress. And just like that, there was nothing she could do. The part of her that was Lauren’s irritated best friend clicked off, and the rest that was Dr. Regina Logan clicked fully into place.

“Well—okay. Let’s have that tea first and then we’ll talk. I’ll be right back,” Regina said, heading out the door.

She was suddenly very sorry that she’d let Ben talk her out of the bottle of cognac she used to keep in the bottom desk drawer. She would have tipped some into both tea mugs.

“Lydia McCarthy in my office. Holy shit on a cracker,” Regina mumbled, walking down the hall. “Hell must have frozen over while I was stuck in traffic.”

Stiffening her resolve to do the right thing, Regina made two herbal teas and carried them back to the room with her.

***

“Okay, Lydia. You’re healthy. You have no medical issues preventing sex. So this is the point where I have to ask the more uncomfortable questions so we can start to look for what needs to change. First—what kind of sexual outlets are you currently using?” Regina asked.

“I don’t think I understand the question,” Lydia stated flatly, her stomach threatening to heave again.

“Sexual outlets is a generic term. You know. Vibrators? Masturbation? Massage? Escort services? Hand-held shower heads set to pulse?” Regina rattled off a short list, stopping when she saw Lydia’s face flushing bright red for the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes.

“Nothing. None of those. I didn’t–
don’t
do anything,” Lydia said, her voice squeaking on the admission. She had to clear her throat to ask the question now churning in her gut. “Do women do all that, I mean seriously?”

Regina nodded and sipped more tea. A much larger list of more creative things women did came to mind, but she couldn’t suggest them to this frightened older woman. It was more amazing now than ever that Lauren had moved past the programming she’d obviously received from a mother who had not known the first thing about sexual pleasure. It was no wonder all males had seemed pretty equal to Lydia. It kind of explained her belief Lauren should just settle for her cheating, bastard ex-husband.

Also, seeing Lydia grip her teacup tightly, lips pressed into a tight line, spoke volumes about her degree of discomfort with the discussion. Regina wondered if the mother would be able to embrace her own sexuality as easily as her daughter had.

“Going for extended periods of time without a sexual outlet can be very. . .well, let’s say stressful,” Regina explained. “Most people spend a lot of energy looking for outlets.”

“I never missed any of that enough to care about finding it after my husband died,” Lydia said finally. “If it wasn’t for this man in my life being so physical, always touching and so forth, then I’m sure I still wouldn’t care.”

“Despite how civilized we are in most areas of our lives, we remain fairly repressed as a society when it comes to seeking help for our sex lives. It’s up to the individual to invest the time to find out what they need,” Regina explained. “You’ve taken two important steps. The first was letting the man into your life. The second was coming here and seeking help to fix things to make it possible. Both are good steps, Lydia.”

“But I don’t even really know why I’m here. Honestly, I never needed sex. It hasn’t been important to me,” Lydia said. “I liked the kissing, and being held, but I didn’t like—well, the rest. Years ago I stopped kissing and letting men hold me because they all expected the same thing.”

“Did your husband please you in bed during your marriage?” Regina asked, then rethought the question when she saw Lydia schooling herself for a politically correct answer. “Let me clarify. Did you ever have an orgasmic experience leading to climax with him? And before you answer, if you aren’t sure, then you have to say no. Because I assure you when it happens, you absolutely always know.”

Lydia laughed tightly, the sound barely leaving her. “I had trouble relaxing, and he was an impatient man. We didn’t get very far. When the deed was done, he went to sleep. After Lauren was born, well William never bothered me much, maybe a few times a year. By then, he had several other women on the side. We settled into a relationship that didn’t require sex,” Lydia said. “Or at least I didn’t require sex. I’m sure he got all he wanted.”

It didn’t take much filtering for Regina to determine the answer was not only no to her original question, but a never-came-close-at-all kind of no.

“I’m guessing you haven’t given yourself one either?” Regina asked, making a few notes and pretending not to see the shock on Lydia’s face.

“No,” Lydia said firmly. Was she supposed to have done so? It boggled her mind to consider it.

“How about with any man before your husband? Old boyfriend maybe?” Regina asked with a grin.

Lydia let out a sigh. She only remembered ever being attracted to one guy in high school. Then she’d been married before she’d had a chance to feel that again. “No. My husband was the first to touch me. I was a virgin. It was expected back then. I don’t know if I even work like other women. Maybe I’m just defective.”

“Oh, I doubt that. I would say your interest in the current guy is proof that isn’t true. In my practice, I have seen every kind of relationship you could ever imagine. Rarely have I seen one where there is no sex at all. It just doesn’t work with our biology or our social tendencies. We are creatures that need others. Do you find yourself attracted to women sometimes?” Regina asked.

Lydia laughed and choked on her tea. “No. No—I’ve never had those thoughts. I haven’t been attracted to anyone until—him.”

Her speech and thoughts drifted to Morrison’s half-lidded gaze on her as she ate pasta, and then to the embrace in his foyer. She had felt small and helpless in his tight hold, and yet hadn’t minded it at all. He provoked unusual feelings in her. The memories made her sigh.

“I suppose I am interested. Or at least, he churns me up,” Lydia said. “He makes me want to be hugged and held. I haven’t even had those benign thoughts about a man in years. I just wish. . .well, I guess it doesn’t matter what I wish. I can’t change who I am.”

“What’s wrong with who you are?” Regina demanded, making a note about the flush on her new client’s face every time the current guy popped into the conversation. “What’s the problem?”

“When he kissed me, it wasn’t good at all,” Lydia finally confided, saying the dreaded words out loud. “I couldn’t—it was just like before with my husband. I couldn’t relax. It was bad for him too. I could tell. He even asked me what was wrong.”

“Kissing is mostly about practice. Easy problem to fix—just do it more,” Regina teased lightly, letting a tiny, husky laugh escape.

“I haven’t really kissed a man in over two or three decades. What do women do? Hire men to practice on?” Lydia demanded, sweeping a hand through her carefully arranged hair before she could stop herself. Realizing what she’d done, Lydia pulled a small mirror out of her purse and started patting her hair back into place.

Regina made more notes, biting the inside of her cheek hard to keep from laughing. It wasn’t Lydia’s emotional pain that was funny, it was the idea of Lauren’s mother hiring a guy for kissing practice that made her want to burst out.

“Well, you could probably hire a male escort to practice with, but most people just use their dates,” Regina said, hoping she wouldn’t go to hell for her evil thoughts.

“I would never tell this guy, but he rattles me. Half the time I’m with him, I feel sick to my stomach with nerves. He says crazy things. He told me I was an unpicked grape and he wanted to make wine out of me,” Lydia mused, reciting what she’d been mulling over and over since Morrison had said it to her.

Regina burst out laughing, she couldn’t help it. Not the most professional response, but it was honest. Damn—an unpicked grape. That was a good metaphor for a woman like Lydia.

“Yes. I wanted to laugh when he said it to me too. It’s Joyce—James Joyce—the writer?” Lydia explained, smiling softly. “There was something else about not withering on the vine—I forget. His delivery was very smooth. I’m sure it’s a line he uses on women all the time.”

Regina laughed again. “I haven’t heard of any guys using poetry for a while. How old is he?”

“Around sixty I think. I never really asked. He’s retired. I guess that’s about sixty-two or so though, isn’t it,” Lydia mused. “I don’t pry into people’s lives unless necessary.”

“Well, sounds like he’s issuing a very poetic invitation for you to pry into his,” Regina said with a smile. “So practice kissing with him. It seems like he’d be willing.”

“No. I can’t practice kissing with him,” Lydia said, appalled mentally at the idea as her stomach rolled at the thought of his insistent mouth on hers.

“Why not?” Regina asked.

“I told you. He makes me nervous. My stomach gets all fluttery. I might throw up on his shoes,” Lydia admitted. “Is it normal to be that way?”

“Normal is relative. Ben made me blazing mad every time he talked to me at first. He couldn’t keep himself from making negative comments about my reputation and my work. So we fought a lot. That was our normal,” Regina said, surprised to hear herself revealing personal information to Lydia. It was not typical for her to do so with patients, much less one she didn’t like. She was obviously off her game today.

Lydia sighed. “I guess I’m worried he won’t just want kissing. If you kiss a guy, doesn’t it always lead to other things? I’m embarrassed to ask, but I don’t know what’s changed since I last—well, you know.”

Regina leaned back in her chair. “Eventually—yes. If done well and in certain ways, kissing is a type of foreplay that can lead to having sex. But it can also just be comforting, especially to women,” she said. “You can set boundaries and see how he reacts.”

“I like comforting things,” Lydia said, admitting to herself that she wouldn’t mind repeating the moment where he put his mouth on hers in his hallway, so long as he didn’t press. “How do I tell him I want to practice, but not—you know?”