Stop whatever you’re doing and look to your left and your right. That perfectly respectable man or woman might be leading a fantasy life that would make Fabio blush.
Cynthia was a young widow. She had had a wonderful marriage and it made her hesitant to get involved again. She devoted her life to her career and her daughter. By the time she happened to find herself at a deserted little cafe in Albuquerque on a hot August day, she had been alone for 10 years. She was vaguely aware when a man with wavy, chestnut hair sat down and ordered in a French accent.
They made small talk. Jean-Claude was on his way to Cincinnati. She was on her way to Chicago. “If you ever get to Chicago. . .” She was sure she’d never hear from him.
When she got home, there was a card. Then there was a call from Paris. Then there was a letter.
She ignored all of them. “I was really trying to avoid a relationship and he was someone I thought I could be attracted to. I felt romance was over for me. And on top of it, he was so far away.”
Another letter came, begging her to write. “I wrote a long letter explaining I had had enough heartache in my life and I couldn’t imagine an unbridled relationship with someone so far away.”
He wrote back saying distance would not be a problem. He started to call nearly every day. Cynthia asked him what would happen if they fell in love. He told her he was already in love with her. She said she was with him too.
They made plans to meet in New York in January. She was scared. When she had married, her husband had been a virgin and she hadn’t had much sexual experience. She didn’t know what to expect.
They met at the hotel. She got there early and filled the room with bouquets of coral flowers–one of his favorite colors– champagne, candles, chocolates. She had had what she thought of as a trousseau hand-made in white and blue–his other favorite color.
“For me it was like a wedding night. My husband and I never had a real wedding night. I was so nervous.”
“He walked in and said, `I will remember this room my entire life.’ “
They kissed so much that weekend that Cynthia’s nose and face got chapped. She told her daughter she fell on the ice. “We never stopped kissing.”
Their only problem was when to meet next. Jean-Claude was divorced with young children. For both of them, their children were their priority. They wanted to be close to them and raise them in their homeland. Their relationship would have to fit around the children. They decided to meet in Paris in March.
Well, this relationship has been going on now for five years. They meet a half-dozen times a year in France, England, Italy, Spain, the States, the islands, all over the world. She has flown around the world just to have lunch with him. She makes every meeting into an occasion. Once she met him wearing a red sari. All the lights in the room were red. Incense was burning, Indian music playing.
“My whole concept is to bring happiness to his life.”
Jean-Claude had once mentioned he would love a piece of land overlooking the mountains where he could build a small house. Cynthia spent two years looking for the perfect piece of land and finally found it in Switzerland. She bought it. Now she’s having the house designed with all the features he loves. She plans on casually driving by it one day, stopping and handing him the keys.
Cynthia is 48, Jean-Claude is 44, her daughter is 18, his kids are 8 and 14. They’re getting to the age when they can imagine having a real life together and not just fantasy weekends. But for now, this is working out very well.
In fact, Cynthia would have to say, in many ways, it’s better than being married.
———-
“All our nights are like a wedding night.”
Starting in 1998, Tales From the Front will answer your relationship questions every Thursday in Tempo. Send your questions to Cheryl Lavin, Tales From the Front, Chicago Tribune, 435 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. 60611. Please include day and evening phone numbers. Letters may be used in whole or in part for any purpose and become the property of the column.
