LITMIR.BIZ

      Differently

      Catherine Paulssen

      If getting tingly while watching your man shave made you eligible for a special club of women who could turn mundane rituals into the stuff of wicked daydreams, Debra would have been the club’s founder. A woman likes her man well groomed, after all. For Debra, the act itself was its own reward. Could a man get any more Cary Grant than when he brushed some high-end shaving cream onto his cheeks and ran a razor over them, revealing his rugged jaw line, smooth and refreshed?

      Through the open bathroom door Debra observed her husband, freshly out of the shower, a white terrycloth towel wrapped around his waist, drops of water trickling down the small of his back. She regarded him as he cupped his hands under the faucet and splashed his face with water. Now he reached for the brush, wetted it, then dipped it into the tub of fine English shaving cream she had given him for their last anniversary. He swirled the wet tips in the rich cream and soon his chiselled cheekbones had disappeared under a thick lather of opaque, herbal-scented mousse. She watched the play of his shoulder muscles as he swiped the brush up and down across his cheeks and neck. The hot damp air wafting from the bathroom carried a crisp, invigorating, slightly woody smell, making her mind wander back to the days when Nicholas’s eyes would catch her own in the mirror, and he would turn around, hold out the shaving cream to her and ask if she’d help him. She remembered the cheeky grin on his face and how it felt to paint his strong jaw and neck with the frothy mousse while his hands played with her waistline. She remembered the silent innuendo between them as he moved the razor blade closely over his skin. When he was done, she would rub moisturiser onto his cheeks and chin, taking her time, and Nicholas’s eyes would rest on her face the whole time until, finally, he would swoop her up in his arms, impatient to get her underneath him. His clean-shaven, cool cheeks would feel so fresh and alluring against her skin as he whispered sweet words into her ears …

      A sigh escaped her lips, and Nicholas turned. ‘What’s the matter, hm?’ he asked, his voice soft.

      She brushed the daydream away. ‘Just – thinking.’

      ‘And what are you thinking of?’

      She searched his face. ‘Us.’

      He placed the badger brush away and raised his eyebrow. ‘Us?’

      Debra noticed a hint of tenderness in his voice – a small hint, to be sure, but a hint nonetheless. ‘A different us.’

      He paused for a moment, and his gaze turned towards the floor. Then, without a word, he picked up the razor and started to skim it along his face. Debra continued to watch him and, when he was done, got up to join him. She brushed his back as she moved beside him like a slender cat trying to show its affection, then reached for the aftershave lotion. ‘Like me to massage your skin?’

      He rinsed his face with cold water, put the razor away and dried his face. ‘Debs, I need to get ready. Not now.’

      ‘OK,’ she whispered but didn’t leave without pressing a tender kiss between his shoulder blades. At times like this, she usually felt like screaming at him. Not now, but when? When will you love me again like you used to?

      Not today.

      A high-pitched whimper called her to the children’s room, and when Nicholas came down the stairs fifteen minutes later, dressed and ready to leave, she was trying to make Levi eat some of his mashed apricots while his brother Jake smeared her hair with mush-stained fingers.

      Nicholas kissed both his sons quickly, careful to avoid a spoonful of fruit pulp aimed at his suit. ‘Don’t wait up for me. I’m meeting Al in the club after work.’

      ‘Al?’

      ‘Potential client.’ He pressed a kiss on her cheek. ‘It will be late.’

      How she wished he would one time ask her to stay up! Wished she would one time see a silent question in his eyes: was it too much to ask of her not to go to bed, but to wait up for him?

      Not today.

      Today, she gave her husband a bright smile and wished him good luck at the meeting.

      In the afternoon, she brought their two sons to visit her older sister, Rebecca.

      ‘Hey, how are my favourite nephews?’ Rebecca asked, ruffling Jake’s hazelnut tuft as she removed him from the car seat.

      ‘Happy to stay the night at Aunt Becky’s, aren’t you?’ asked Debra as she lifted Levi, who was bubbling with excitement, and carried him into the house. They entertained the boys in their playpen for a while before returning to the car. Rebecca helped her sister take the stroller out of the trunk and eyed a pair of shiny black heels lying next to them.

      ‘You’re still determined to go there?’ she asked.

      ‘Uh huh.’

      ‘Debbie, I don’t know. That sort of nightclub …’

      ‘It’s just a place for good food and good drinks and first-rate entertainment!’ said Debra, throwing her sister a reproachful look. ‘I was there last week for training. Everyone was really nice and respectful. And anyways, it’s just waitressing! No need to act as though I were becoming an escort or something.’

      Rebecca pulled a pair of long, fingerless net gloves out of a bag. ‘Just waitressing,’ she said, raising an eyebrow. ‘You’ll show up at

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