A FBOW excerpt in sequence: “Marsha"
Besides his ongoing push for more and more strenuous exercise that Elizabeth hated, Myron Lipshitz began his own continuing, ‘Let’s get pregnant’ campaign that his wife flatly refused to consider.
Which, obviously, led to heated arguments.
Which, subsequently, subconsciously might have been the reason why— after a bit less than two and a half years of marriage, when on August 18, 1961, Gene Tarnowski had mentioned that Bill Krupper had given a ‘definite’, ‘approximate’, retirement date and that he was considering whom to place into the remainder of Bill’s divided territory.
It was at that time when Elizabeth—another of those instances of speaking before thinking… maybe—had suggested contacting Mitchell.
________________________________________
Des Plaines, Illinois
11:37 p.m., December 31, 1962
The eleven o’clock news over.
So, too, for Marsha and Mitchell Lipensky the year ‘1962’ ended at 11:39 p.m. with a perfunctory kiss and a less than heartfelt, “Happy New Year.”
Thought of sex completely out of the question.
Turning onto her side, having taken a pain pill for…? Marsha Lipensky fell asleep quickly.
Lying back to back.
Not touching on this New Year’s Eve, a lump of loneliness laying heavy on his stomach, Mitchell’s mind leaving the woman that lay a scant inch away— by now having the extremely familiar sensation of being on opposite ends of the Grand Canyon—Mitchell’s thoughts going from this, for him sad, sexless and lonely place, Mitchell’s thoughts went to…
His life seemed to continually vacillate between his wife’s anger. His wife’s refusal to overcome that anger and her subsequent silences, to…
After a few days of comparative peace, something might be said or something might be done or, in his opinion, not done, that would then start a new cycle of indignation.
The birth of Samuel bringing about a new problem—a fairly common problem for women after multiple births but, unlike her still unknown diabetes, this new problem was very obvious if and when one were allowed to look: very visible grape like haemorrhoids.
Which gave Marsha a justifiable excuse to say no to sex.
Three children quite possibly too many for her to care for.
‘But’, her husband would rationalise, ‘it was Marsha that wanted three children’!
Wanted four in fact, so she had said, ‘before she was thirty’.!
Loving his children! Regarding his children Mitchell wouldn’t change a thing.
And actually Marsha Lipensky was an attentive, very good mother…
Except when anger at her husband erupted.
At those times, regardless of the feelings of, or thought of her children or husband, the verbal lava of Marsha Lipensky’s anger would spew outward burning all in its way.
Lying alongside this woman who was the mother of his three children. Feeling the radiating warmth of this woman’s body…
Mitchell Lipensky’s thoughts were of another woman.
Lying alongside this woman who was the mother of his children, who had told him many times—although not always actually saying the words—that she hated him.
Lying alongside this woman that did nothing to hide her disdain for him. That seemingly went out of her way to show her disgust for him.
Feeling unloved. Feeling lonely.
Certainly feeling sexually deprived, Mitchell Lipensky’s thoughts were of a woman he knew loved him and, admitting to himself — admitting to himself years ago that he loved this woman in return.
From their discussion of three days ago, mentally replaying the words and tone of her voice, Elizabeth did not sound happy about her marriage…
Thus opening the fate of both marriages to conjecture.
Never having ‘completed’ intercourse with a woman other than Marsha, the thought of being with ‘another’ woman.
The thought a ‘different’ woman…
The thought of the possibility of ‘actually’ being intimate with a different woman, to be ‘with’ a woman other than Marsha?
To kiss a ‘different’ woman? To ‘hold’ a different woman? To look upon the nude body and to physically love a woman other than Marsha…?
The thought surreal!
Due to the ramifications the thought terrifying! But yet…
Is mental infidelity still infidelity?
Rationalising his wife’s, to say the least, dispassionate attitude towards sex…
Towards him.
Knowing he was unloved… Hated, as a matter of fact.
His hand reaching through the slit of his pyjamas, Mitchell Lipensky’s thoughts went to another woman and, as he had in the past…
12:10 a.m., Tuesday, January 1, 1963
Much as he’d concocted a passionate, although totally impossible scenario with the black girl in 1951. Within the first minutes of this first day of 1963…
Laying on his side with his penis in hand, listening for any change in the sound of the sleeping breathing of his wife that might signify she had awakened, Mitchell Lipensky and Elizabeth Herzon/Lipshitz, in his imagination were naked together and— married or not, three children or not, yes, thinking the thought, I love you! Hearing Elizabeth say, I love you, too, Mitchie! Indeed, Elizabeth and Mitchell did make love.
Marsha’s Musings
I do love him, Marsha would think. I don’t know why I’m always so angry!
Why?
Because he sometimes ‘says’ things I think he ‘shouldn’t’ say or sometimes ‘not’ say what I think he ‘should’ say? Because he sometimes ‘does’ things I think he ‘shouldn’t’ do? Or sometimes ‘doesn’t’ do things that I think he ‘should’ do.
Remembering that rainy, miscible day in May of 1957 when she’d filled cardboard boxes with his belongings and — leaving a note telling him to ‘get out’, had waited in her parent’s upper apartment watching out the window until she saw him leave…
Why? She thought. What did he do that was ‘that’ terrible that I would do such an awful thing to him?
Remembering her self imposed three month exile to Lakeside— without letting him know where Mikey and me were. Where we went. And not allowing anyone to tell him where we were.
Why?
‘Why’, Marsha Lipensky had asked herself countless times.
Remembering her unexpected ‘extremely’ pleasurable explosive sexual epiphany on the fourth of July, 1958. That — diminishing over the past four and a half years was now a near forgotten episode of her past life…
So much so that the mere thought of her words: ‘you want to eat my pussy’ were words she could not believe were words she had ‘ever’ spoken.
And the unbelievably shocking things she and her husband had ‘ever’ done to and for each other!
Afraid now— if she so much as touched him, Marsha was sure Mitchell would take her innocent touch as a sign that she wanted to have sex because whenever she touched him he would respond— at least Marsha ‘perceived’ that... he’ll grab my ass or tits or rub my crotch.
So Marsha Lipensky mistakenly mused— If I stay angry he’ll leave me alone.
Do I love him though?
Marsha would think.
He’s now earning a good living,
Marsha would think.
God knows he’s a good father!
Marsha would think.
God knows I’m proud to be seen with him!
Marsha would think
So do I love him?
Marsha would ponder.
Yes, of ‘course’ I love him!
To find a reason ‘for’ and to counter her vacillating emotions...
I just don’t like him.
Marsha Lipensky rationalised.
January 1 through January 10, 1963
6:15 a.m., Des Plaines, Illinois
The first morning of 1963 not too different from most mornings.
Awaking with an erection, but on this morning the erection was not from the need to urinate, but from Mitchell Lipensky’s thoughts of the beautiful, phantom lady he’d made vicarious love to the night before. Knowing this…
Knowing Elizabeth was something that could never be! Wanting to chase the thought of this impossibility from his mind.
Looking to his left.
Looking at the sleeping figure of his wife and feeling the need for human warmth, Feeling the need for human contact. Not wanting to wake her and knowing sex would be out of the question and actually—at least for the moment—wanting no more than to be near his wife.
Tucking his penis between his thighs.
Moving closer to Marsha, who still lay asleep on her side.
Slowly, gently ensconcing her buttocks into the forming valley of his crotch and thighs…
“Mitchell!” Angrily moving to the far side of the bed. “ ‘Leave me alone’!”
Returning to his side of the Grand Canyon.
Maybe, he thought, she thought it’s too early to get up.
A wave of depression settling over him, She didn’t even see the time; she just doesn’t want me to touch her.
Fighting an urge to cry, his thoughts a jumble, Mitchell Lipensky stared at the ceiling until he heard the first early morning cries of his baby.
****
Hoping that she’d awake in a better mood. Letting Marsha sleep as long as she wished on this New Year’s day—not that she wouldn’t anyway—leaving the bed at six thirty.
Softly singing, “Boop boop dit-tem dat-tem wha-tem boop!” Changing his diaper, Mitchell cleaned two and a half month old Samuel. Then along with Michael and Ellie, prepared and served a breakfast of orange juice, eggs and toast, adding sausage links for himself..
****
Breakfast finished and the baby cereal glop wiped from Samuel’s face and hands.
Sitting on the sofa in the den with Mikey closely to his left, Ellie touching closely to his right, Sammie cuddled on his lap and Mercy at their feet. Vacantly watching the early morning cartoons while waiting for the Pasadena, California Rose bowl Parade to begin.
Thoughts of destroying these loving, peaceful times with his children…
Mitchell ‘loved’ being with Mikey, Ellie, Sammie and Mercy during the quiet time of these early mornings, and the thought of leaving all this for Elizabeth— for someone he loved and more importantly, ‘most’ importantly, for someone that loved him in return weighed as cement on his stomach.
Prospective: Said a future article in The Chicago Tribune
‘One month after delivery, women still complained of breast problems, fatigue, haemorrhoids, poor appetite, constipation, increased sweating, acne, hand numbness and hot flashes.
Three months after delivery, many of these symptoms continued...’ the study reported ‘...while 40% of mothers also reported pain during sexual intercourse, as well as respiratory infections and hair loss at three to six months.
Even at nine months postpartum, many women experienced vaginal discomfort and constipation.’
Ad to this presently unknown mix, the unknown symptoms of diabetes.
Next FBOW Excerpt in sequence: Permission Given
