Alex and Marilou live on a tasteful, tree-lined suburban street an hour from Chicago. Marilou's pretty positive their friends think they're secure and comfortable, with two kids, Alex Jr. and Christine, two cars, a new Pontiac and a Taurus wagon, and a two-story colonial with daffodils, central air and a cedar deck in back.

 

Sometimes it does feel comfortable to her, too. Nothing feels nicer than Thursdays when the cleaning lady leaves. Everything is neat and dust-free as she walks through the house, inspecting her spotless kitchen, scented bathrooms, bedrooms with freshly made beds and rugs with the criss-cross vacuum marks still tufting the fabric. It feels sensational to know each and every appliance works.

 

Then there are days when the lawn looks shaggy, Christine acts out, stealing some doll clothes from a playmate, and Marilou wonders about whether Alex, Sr. is getting it somewhere else. Not that she actually has proof or that he has shown in any way he's been unfaithful. Still, she spends a few shamefaced minutes each month sneaking a peek at all the toll calls on the bill from Illinois Bell and figuring out if any of them looks suspicious. Sometimes she checks his suit pockets in the afternoons when she's sure everyone will be gone but the most she ever found was a matchbox from an Italian restaurant near his insurance agency. Big deal. It was nearly disappointing.

 

Watching Oprah one day, she saw men and women talking about phone sex and actual people who worked the phone sex lines. She thought to herself, maybe he has tried that. As she listened to them talk about it, she found herself getting more and more excited and wishing she had enough nerve to call one herself. After all, it wouldn't interfere with the marriage. It would just be a nice little treat, like a hot fudge sundae when you've been good on your diet all week. Maybe Alex might even like the idea that she did it and it would inject a little spice into their sex life. Not that it was bad but, after fifteen years, anybody can afford a little lift; then again, maybe somebody at the phone company would find out and blackmail her. Or worse, maybe Alex'd be furious and call her names and take away her credit cards or something drastic.