The Secret Desires of a Soccer Mom Read Online Free

into
Karen’s front window. You never knew what you might catch a glimpse of in
there.
    “She’s not home,” Jane commented.
    I blushed, as if she could have read my thoughts. “Uh, yeah…
no, I didn’t think so.”
    “She’s been seeing this acupuncturist in the city. He’s
supposed to help her with her infertility.”
    “Oh.”
    “Yeah, she has appointments a few times a week, for hours at
a time. Apparently, he’s very good… very thorough.”
    “I’m sure he is.”
    “Still,” Jane said, leaning forward slightly as we reached
an incline—her trainer had told her this position would help tone her glutes—“it
must be tough, not being able to conceive.”
    “Definitely,” I agreed, copying her stance. A little toning
wouldn’t hurt my glutes either. “We’re really lucky to have gotten pregnant so
easily. It would be such a drag to have to have sex all the time.” Jane shot me
a bemused look. “I mean, it must take some of the fun out of it. It would be
kind of like… work.”
    “True,” she agreed. “It’s much more fun to be spontaneous.”
    “Oh, yeah!” I said emphatically, hoping she didn’t realize I
was overcompensating. I knew that Paul’s and my sex life wouldn’t exactly
qualify as spontaneous. We had sex once a week, on Saturday night.
Occasionally, during the week, if we found ourselves in bed together before
eleven, we’d get it on then too, but this rarely happened. On the other hand,
if Paul was going to be out of town for more than four days, we would usually
squeeze in a quickie before his departure. That would have to qualify as
spontaneous, wouldn’t it? Sometimes, we were really quite daring. Once, we even
did it in the master bathroom while the kids watched a movie!
    “How is Spencer settling into first grade?” Jane changed the
subject.
    I was somewhat relieved. “Great! He really likes his teacher
and he’s making friends.”
    “That’s good. This is a whole new chapter for you, isn’t it?
Both your kids are at school all day. You’re home free!”
    “Right…” I said, rather hesitantly.
    “So, what do you plan to do with all this time you suddenly
have?
    “Well…” I cleared my throat, and tried to match my
arm-pumping rhythm to my friend’s. “I haven’t really thought about it yet.
Spencer’s just started.”
    “This is your time, Paige—time to think about yourself.
You’ve given those kids your love and devotion, you’ve made huge sacrifices.
And now, they’re out in the world, doing their own thing.” She made it sound
like they were in college, not elementary school. “What are your plans?”
    “Umm… I guess I’ll have to think about it.”
    “Good idea. You should make a list—you know, like your goals
for the next five years. That’s what Daniel does. He says that 87 percent of
people who write down their life goals, actually achieve them. He certainly
has.”
    “True.” I mentally envisioned Jane’s husband’s list of
goals:
    Make a squillion dollars.
    Trade old wife in for younger model. Choose one who will
ensure she always looks incredibly youthful and beautiful, no matter how old
she gets.
    Jane continued. “Of course, it’s different for me, because I
have Becca.” Becca was Jane’s ‘girl’, a freakishly tall, eighteen-year-old from
New Zealand who Jane employed to look after her two young daughters, clean her
house and generally run errands for her. Becca was never referred to as a
nanny, a housekeeper or a personal assistant; she was always referred to as
Jane’s ‘girl’. While I thought it was kind of pathetic that a woman of leisure
couldn’t manage to look after her own children, clean her own house or run her
own errands, I desperately wanted my own giant Kiwi to do my every bidding.
    “You’re lucky.”
    “I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Suddenly, Jane
placed two fingers on her neck. “Heart-rate check.” I followed suit, though I
had no idea what my heart rate was supposed