In 1979, with trophy ring memories, I
followed hubby to the Pacific Northwest, in a periodic lemming rush north due
to California’s rapid home equity rise. I
Our modest Mountain View home’s sale price moved us into the upscale housing bracket. The new homes subdivision was nicknamed “California Hill” due to the number of residents seeking greener pasture from California. I also got to be a stay at home mom.
I enjoyed the lack of swing shift time stress but missed its excitement. My energies were diverted to school activities, chauffeuring and tutoring. My cinnamon rolls and cookies established our house as the hang out for neighborhood kids and our yard an unofficial playground. While I baked the economy hit a down beat and many fellow lemmings crashed on the economic rocks.
With economic apprehension we, skied, canoed and camped, family all the way, in the rain, well, drizzle. There was a reason everything was greener. We got used to it but our routine changed to more in house time versus out door time.
On Sunday many of our new neighbors went to church. We were even lectured about our children needing to know about Jesus. To compromise we went to a small Unitarian church to give the kids some idea who Moses and Jesus were. There I missed Catholic Mass’s incense, candles, statutes and Latin singing but learned in one sermon The Wizard of Oz was a Unitarian theme movie where Dorothy overcame magic by being true to herself.
Occasionally among the girls I wore Edward’s trophy ring but never mentioned its source. I wanted the image of chaste wife among my staid new friends and nothing to impinge otherwise. Soon, however, it became apparent the Puritans needed church.
Erica was beautiful, a true blond, my age with a son the same age as our oldest. She was wild, beyond swing shift wild. She too was a stay at home mom and a California lemming but not a church goer. We met at a school function and she started visiting, her son for cinnamon rolls and her to sip wine. Her husband traveled overseas for his business, while gone, the neighborhood gossip was she was having an affair.
She was not in an affair. She met men for casual sex. Talking to her was better than swing shift yore as she related her sexual escapades. She was simply promiscuous and loved sex with young alpha males, no commitment or faithfulness required. I advised her, told her to be more responsible like the older woman at work once did for me but made no moral judgements. She assumed I was a chaste wife which I was.
One afternoon, wearing Edward's ring she remarked on its beauty and asked how I got it.
“Oh, it’s a long story.”
“Okay, what’s the short version?”
“It’s a love thing, trophy ring, from trophy love.”
“Old boyfriend, no you told me you were engaged at 16, so hubby?
“It’s past, I’d better not say more.”
“Say more, you just said it all! Tell me, cat’s out now.
I gave a sneaky admission smile. With the 3rd
glass of wine I let my secret puppet shadow slip out some.
Disclosures made us close. She introduced me to another married hot wife with kids. A secret disclosure often reveals anothers and soon the 3 of us were co-conspirators. I listened to their adventures and they, my swing shift and trophy ring tales. They were disappointed about my retirement, encouraged my redeployment and introduced me to other local hot wives.
I limited my participation to babysitting for them while they played.