A Gift For Joyce

Six loud thuds shook the wall.

The weekend was half over and had already been a disaster. Joyce and Theo stopped arguing for a minute and glared at each other in mutual embarrassment while the muffled music — clearly meant to drown them out — played on next door. Theo did up his shirt buttons and pulled the duvet up to his waist, covering himself up. Joyce’s body language didn’t change; she rested comfortably on her side in her nightie, her right hand flat on the bed where he’d placed it after removing it from himself.

“For fuck’s sake, Theo” she whispered. “Why are we here, then?”

“I do want to have sex” he rasped back. “I just… I…” he flapped his hands, flustered. “I want it to happen naturally. I don’t like it when you try and force it.”

“Force it?” They had been kissing for fifteen minutes, and she’d touched his cock, attempting to stroke him hard. “I was touching you. That’s how it happens naturally, Theo.”

“I wanted to get hard naturally.” His voice bristled.

She threw her hands down at her sides. “That is natural. That is fucking natural. That’s how people have always got off–”

This time the thuds were at the door. They both froze again. Several seconds passed, and then a further few knocks and a muffled “hello?”

It was a woman’s voice. “Can you open the door, please?”

Joyce rolled out of bed, put her glasses back on, and strode the door, matter-of-factly pulling it open. She stood at 5’7, and at 52 years of age, only a few hints of black hair remained in her wavy, shoulder-length mane of silver hair. She was quite trim for her age, she thought, such that she was confident showing enough of her mottled, freckled skin in her nightie. Even in front of a stranger.

She hadn’t been prepared for the sight of a naked girl standing in the B&B’s hallway. Well, naked was an exaggeration, but it fit with Joyce’s impression. The woman wore a stunningly ornate blue lace lingerie set — an intricate bra and thong, where the floral edging seemed to stop barely short of very intimate places. She seemed unembarrassed in a way that put Joyce’s own ideas of immodesty to shame. Soft pale skin, tattoos around her thighs and generous hips. What were, in Joyce’s opinion, amazing breasts, perfectly, symmetrically round and buoyant. Her hair was a pastel-coloured bob. Round, mascara-laden eyes met with Joyce’s angular features in a look of exasperation.

“I’m so sorry, we were–”

“Yeah, I know.” She couldn’t have been older than 25. “We can hear you arguing? I’m trying to fuck my boyfriend?” Every sentence sounded like a question.

“I-I’m sorry, we’ll keep it down.” Joyce couldn’t stop her gaze from sliding down to take in the young woman’s body.

“Could you? That would be great.”

“I…” she was almost whispering. “I like your… um, your outfit.”

“Thanks.” It was an unappreciative thanks. “Goodnight.” Joyce closed the door, mortified.

The pair resolved to go to sleep, Theo changing in to his pyjamas. In the dark, they listened unavoidably to the sounds of the young couple next door having the weekend they had planned. It had been a halfhearted effort to rekindle something they knew they were losing. It had easily been a year since they’d seriously attempted to have sex. There was always more work, or friends, to distract them from the problem; always another arts funding application for Joyce to write, always another opinionated pub huddle with Theo’s old friends and colleagues. They’d finally gotten as far as admitting the problem to each other, and planned a B&B getaway.

Joyce would never have judged Theo for his body. Also in his mid-fifties, he wasn’t unfit, taking regular walks when he could, but they both knew he wouldn’t be appearing on any magazine covers. He’d cropped his white hair short as it had thinned on top, and allowed a layer of salt-and-pepper stubble to soften the less flattering signs of ageing. Still, sometimes it was as if he didn’t care how he looked. Unironed white shirts and ten year-old pairs of corduroys. Not even a suit jacket in the event that they went out for dinner. She’d tried to get him to put one on that evening. “Why? It’s just us.” As Joyce lay there, his breathing deepening as he drifted off, she thought about how his obstinacy had thwarted so much of their intimate life, bit by bit.

The next morning was a continental breakfast in the B&B’s antiquated-looking parlour. The owners, an octogenarian couple, had milled around, checking how everyone’s night’s sleep had gone, freshening cups of coffee. Joyce and Theo were getting along a little better now, in more familiar circumstances with a croissant and a cup of something hot. As they chattered, Joyce noticed the girl from last night wander up to the table, followed by a giant of a boyfriend — 6’2″, she thought, with black hair in a tight crewcut, tanned, with piercing silver eyes. The couple both wore matching leathers over loose-fitting t-shirts, him in grey jeans, her in brilliant blue shorts that barely covered her butt. Their plates loaded, they turned to face the room and she found Joyce’s stare before she could look away. The two immediately wandered towards them.

“Hey, can we sit with you?” She seemed much more friendly than last night. Theo proffered the empty chairs. “We’re Alice and Marcus.” She was smiling now. “I’m sorry about knocking on your door last night.”

Theo shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m Theo, she’s Joyce.”

“Well, um… I suppose we should be apologising for disturbing you.” Joyce returned Alice’s smile. “Did you sleep okay?”

“In the end.” Marcus’ voice was as deep as he was tall. Was this just how young people were these days? The awkwardness Joyce had braced herself for was nowhere to be found, except perhaps in the perpetual tightness between Theo’s shoulderblades. “Oh, I’m glad you had fun” Joyce’s smile widened, warm. “Young love is always so sweet.”

Theo rested his cup on its saucer. “Come on, we’re basically old people to them, they don’t want us nosing at them.”

“Oh it’s cool” said Marcus. Even at normal speaking volume, it was a boom. Joyce swore she could feel his voice. “We’re pretty chill about stuff. Why be embarrassed, right?”

“Yes, I agree!” smile lines and crow’s feet blossomed on Joyce’s face. “We’re trying to be adventurous this weekend too.”

“Oh no, did I mess it up?”

“No, no!” Joyce hazarded a touch of Alice’s smooth leather sleeve. “I wanted to say, by the way, I loved your getup last night. You looked like a supermodel. I expect something like that is quite expensive.”

“Um, not toooo bad…” Alice thought for a moment. “There’s a few places where you can get stuff like that more affordably, but it’s better to pay for quality, I think. If you give me your number I can send you a bunch of links.”

“Oh, that would be lovely!”

“Sorry, what are we talking about?” She had been out of Theo’s line of sight, behind the door. Joyce turned to him, as if whispering conspiratorially. “Her underwear, dear.” Theo merely raised his eyebrows at this, as if taken aback, and took another, final, sip of his coffee.

“Anyway, you’re not old” said Alice, knowingly. “You’re older. So what?”

“Theo thinks anyone over 40 is pretty much out to pasture” Joyce smirked. “If he just dressed up a little every now and then…”

“Aw, no! No, Theo, you’ve got that cuddly dad thing going on, it’s cute!” Alice leaned forward with a grin. Marcus raised his cup. “Nobody’s out to pasture here, guys. Can we clink on it?” Joyce laughed, and brought her cup forward. Even Theo managed a polite smile and a clink of his cup against Alice’s. “Good.” Alice downed the last of her coffee as well. “Besides, Theo, older guy, with a hot wife…”

“Am I hot? Do you think?” Joyce was enjoying this much attention from two vivacious young people. “Oh, yes!” Marcus and Alice replied in unison, with Alice continuing, “you’re fit, you have lovely silvery hair, those cheekbones…”

The group chatted, Joyce and Alice flirting, Theo attempting respectful dialogue with Marcus, until 11 o’clock, when they parted, each couple away to enjoy their days. Theo and Alice took a walk down a bare country road to the nearby village, eating ice cream cones on a bench there and chatting about the state of their lives. To Joyce’s delight, as the sun dipped and the later afternoon light shimmered gold, Theo kissed her. They held each other for what seemed like forever, kissing lovingly, as they’d used to. She felt as though he’d finally managed to relax in their solitude, away from the demands of life as they knew it.

“Can we try again tonight?” she’d asked softly.

“Of course.”

Back at the B&B, they showered, and took dinner in the parlour again. Alice and Theo were nowhere to be seen, this time, but as they returned to their room, they found the couple knocking on their door again.

“I’m sure we’re not disturbing you this time” Joyce quipped as they came up behind them. Alice turned around, startled, holding a black shopping bag. “Um…”

“Yes? Hi?”

“This suddenly seems so stupid, um…” Alice was clutching the bag in both hands now. “I got you a present? I feel really silly saying that, now.”

“You got us a present?”

“No, not… well, technically for you, but for both of you? Um… can we come in?”

The four shuffled in to the room, closing the door behind them. Alice held out the bag.

“Okay, this is… totally stupid, but you said you liked my outfit, and I thought, maybe I could get you something, to be nice… I think it’s your size, I’ve got a knack for judging…”

Joyce pulled an intricate mass of blue fabric out of the bag. “Oh, it’s…”

“It’s a lace body, yeah. It’s the same make and colour as mine.”

“I love it!” Joyce was genuinely thrilled. Finally, someone had bought her lingerie.

“Oh… well, okay.” Theo seemed reserved. “That’s certainly… generous of you.”

“Isn’t it lovely of her?” Joyce grinned toothily and hugged the garment under her chin, before leaning forward to give Alice the softest peck on her cheek. “Oh gosh. Shall I try it on? Fashion show?”