Marriage Matters (20 page)

Thirty-eight

T
he hotel room in Venice stunned Kristine into silence. Luxury permeated the space, from the lush, pale blue carpet to the gilded lamps and mirrors lining the walls to the stately antique chairs in the sitting areas. French doors led out to a balcony overlooking the canal, draped by sheer white curtains waving like sails in the breeze.

Surprised, Kristine looked at her husband. “This must have—”

He shrugged. “Amazing what a billion hotel miles can get you.”

Slowly, she walked into the room. She ran her hand over the pale blue velvet covering the backs of the furniture and her eyes darted to the bed. Twice the size of any bed she had ever seen, it was tucked into a nook of the room, as though playing hard to get. A silver tray was set up on the duvet, offering up a treasure of Italian chocolates, champagne and red roses.

“What’s all this?” she asked, swallowing hard.

Kevin didn’t answer. Instead, he took off his sunglasses and laid them neatly on a side table. Then he walked to the bed and removed the tray of champagne and roses. As he touched the light switch on the wall, the room descended into darkness.

Kristine’s palms started to sweat. In the light from the canal, she could see her husband striding over to her. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms and deposited her onto the duvet. She braced herself for a gentle, questioning touch, one that she wouldn’t know how to answer. But to her surprise, he grabbed her body and pulled it roughly to him.

“I’m just going to warn you.” His breath was ragged in her ear. “I’m not exactly in the mood to be a sensitive guy.”

Without waiting for her response, he pushed down the straps of her sundress and buried his face between her breasts. Kristine felt a sweet longing flood through her. His hands were everywhere, exploring her body like he used to, back when it seemed as though there would never be enough time to be together.

Kevin, Kevin, Kevin . . .

Pressing her body up against him, Kristine grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. It felt almost angry as he possessed her mouth with his. She bit his lips, thrusting her tongue in his mouth and tasting his skin, until he gave a low groan.

Desperately, she fumbled for his belt buckle and yanked down his pants. He lowered himself on top of her, the hair from his body coarse against her legs. He grabbed her hands and brought them over her head, pinning them against the mattress.

Poised just above her, his breath ragged, he gazed into her eyes. His expression was fierce, his eyes dark and questioning. In response, Kristine arched her back, brushing her body against him. Then, with a sharp thrust, he buried himself inside of her.

She held perfectly still, giving herself time to absorb him, to remember how this was. Then, with a sudden rush of feeling, the pain melted into pleasure. He made love to her with an intensity she hadn’t felt in years, and Kristine gripped his shoulders tighter and tighter, until she shattered against him.

Kevin let out a roar as he came, collapsing on top of her in a heap of sweat and emotion. They lay there together working to catch their breath, the duvet kicked aside and slipping to the floor. Kevin leaned forward and held her tight, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“I love you, Kristine,” he whispered. Then he kissed her as though he would drown.

Thirty-nine

W
hile her mother was in Rome, Chloe had one responsibility: to keep an eye on June.

“Take care of her,” Kristine said before she left, squeezing Chloe just a little too tight. “I know you’re busy but June’s just not used to being on her own.”

Chloe’s intentions were good but she got so caught up with school, midterms and Geoff that before she knew it, three days had passed without hearing from her grandmother. The moment she realized this, Chloe called her six times and even stopped by her house, but June didn’t answer the door. Troubled, Chloe headed to her shift at Tiny Tumblers
but checked her phone every hour, on the hour.

June never called back.

The moment her shift was over, she rushed outside and called Ben. Her mouth tasted like metal, but she knew just hearing his voice would help. He’d say, “Clo, everything’s okay. I’ll be right there,” but his phone rang and rang before finally going to voicemail.

Chloe fought back a wave of panic. There was a very real possibility that something bad had happened. It just wasn’t like June to not call for three days. And to not return a phone call? Never.

Even though Chloe hated to drag Geoff into all this so early in their relationship, she made the call. “I’m so sorry to bother you at work,” she said, her voice breaking. “But I’m too scared to go over there alone.”

“I’ll call Rue on the way,” he said. “See if she’s heard from her.” After getting directions to June’s house, he said, “Don’t worry, Chloe. I’m sure she’s just fine.”

Traffic was jammed, so instead of jumping into a cab and begging the driver to go ninety, Chloe ran the five blocks to June’s apartment. Her book bag banged against her shoulder with every step, her heart pounding frantically. What if June was lying there with a broken hip, abandoned for days? Those stairs up to her bedroom were much too steep. She easily could have taken a tumble. Or what if . . . Chloe shook her head, refusing to think of the alternative.

She blinked hard, hating herself for being so irresponsible. It wasn’t like her mother had asked her to check on a hamster or a goldfish. June was her
family
. Why, oh why, had she gotten so caught up in her boyfriend? What kind of person
was
she?

Rounding the corner, she ran smack into a man. It was already dark, and she almost screamed. She realized it was Geoff and collapsed against him.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m so scared.”

Geoff put a finger under her chin and lifted it gently. “Chloe, look at me,” he said, his voice calm. “It’s going to be fine. And if it’s not, we’ll deal with it, okay? We’ll handle it together.”

She nodded, letting out a shaky breath. Leading the way, he walked up the steps to June’s house and pounded on the door.

Chloe’s heart was in her throat. She prayed that, at any moment, June would throw open the door and say, “What on earth is all this racket about?” But the house remained dark, the door tightly closed. With trembling hands, Chloe handed him the spare key.

As they walked in, he turned on the lights in the hallway. She cringed, expecting to see June crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, but the path was as clear as always. Chloe tried to push past him, but Geoff’s arm blocked her way. “Please. Let me go first.” His voice was grim. “Just in case.”

Slowly, with Chloe right behind him, Geoff searched the entire house from top to bottom. Nothing. In the kitchen, he walked over to the counter and eyed an apple on the cutting board. “This seems . . .” A note of hope crept into his voice. “Decently fresh.” He held it up. The apple was cut in half and only slightly brown at the edges.

Chloe’s heart pounded with relief. There might still be time to save her.

Geoff’s eyes darted to the window. “I think I just saw something move outside.”

Of course! June would have been working in her garden. Maybe she’d fallen out there. Chloe rushed for the back door. It was dark outside and she couldn’t see a thing, but she could hear the faintest muffle of laughter. “Grandma?” she called.

Abruptly, the laughter stopped. There was the sound of shuffling and nervous whispers. Chloe squinted. Through the dark night, she could swear she saw Charley Montgomery dart across the lawn. But he wasn’t wearing a shirt. And his hands were crossed in front of his . . .

Chloe froze. Her eyes fell on the wrought-iron table where her grandmother typically ate her breakfast. A checkered gardening shirt was neatly draped across it like a napkin. A few feet away, something white was suspended over a rosebush. Chloe put her hands over her mouth.

It was a brassiere.

She gasped in horror.
No. This couldn’t be . . .

Geoff rushed into the yard, the beam of a flashlight bobbing in front of him. “Did you find her?”

With one hand, Chloe shielded her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “But something terrible is happening. Please turn off the . . .”

“Chloe?” June called, her voice high pitched and nervous. “Is that you?”

Geoff shined the light in the general direction. June was peeking out from behind a tree, a branch pulled over her form. Even though the tree was covering her, it was perfectly obvious that she was naked.

Chloe dove for the flashlight, turning it off. “Oh, no.” She clutched it in her fist, maintaining eye contact with Geoff, afraid of what else she’d see if she dared to look away. “Oh, no.”

“Chloe?” June called again. The leaves on the tree rustled.

“Don’t,” Chloe shrieked. “You stay right there!”

Geoff’s eyes widened as he, too, finally figured out what was happening. “Oh, no.”

Chloe closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Apparently,” she said, “my grandmother is not dead. Not even close.”

There was silence. Out in the garden, both June and Charley chuckled.

“Sorry,” June sang. “Didn’t mean to scare you. We just . . . um . . .”

“Got attacked by fire ants,” Charley said. “Had to wash the clothes out. But I think everyone’s okay now.”

“Yup.” June’s voice was cheerful. “Doing just fine.”

A small smirk settled at the corner of Geoff’s mouth. “Fire ants,” he said. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

Forty

K
evin lowered himself into the gondola. It swayed from side to side in the water and sank slightly underneath his weight. “I’m gonna capsize this thing,” he said, pulling Kristine in close.

“If you do,” she said, “I’ll jump in and save you.”

“I’m almost tempted,” he teased, “just to see how you’d haul me back in.”

The gondola driver, dressed in the traditional black-and-white-striped shirt and straw hat, pushed the boat away from the dock and they drifted onto the canal. Kristine breathed in the sultry aroma of the sea and snuggled even closer into the crook of Kevin’s arm. The gondola ride was the perfect way to end their time in Venice, even though she was incredibly sad that it was over.

It had been so passionate, so romantic. After that first night, she and Kevin stayed in the hotel room for three days straight, only venturing out to grab food at quaint little cafes on the water. Then they went straight back to each other’s arms. They made love in that glorious bed, the gigantic tub in the bathroom and on the balcony overlooking the canal, the stars of Venice shining above them.

Late at night they talked for hours, touching on topics they hadn’t delved into in years: their feelings about getting older, their daughter’s remarkable ambition, their hopes for the future. Kristine explained how lonely and disconnected she’d been feeling, with Kevin always on the road. He made a vow to try and spend the little time they had together at home with her, doing something special. He even promised to spend time at the store.

Kristine’s heart had not been this full in years. She felt that they had finally reconnected on the levels that mattered so desperately to their marriage. The memory of all that had pushed them apart seemed very far away.

As they floated down the water, they passed buildings that were centuries old. Her favorites were the ones with the ornate loggias, because they reminded her of miniature castles. Everything around them seemed so beautiful, even the algae creeping up the base of the buildings. Bright green, it was the canal’s version of a tree-lined street.

“I can’t think of anything that would make this more perfect,” she said.

As if on cue, the Rialto Bridge loomed into sight. The sun was setting and pinks and purples streaked across the sky. The color, coupled with the burnt orange of the rooftops off in the distance, emphasized the pure white of the stone bridge. The portico at the top was lit like a cathedral.

As they approached the bridge, the gondola driver started to sing. His voice lilted through the night as easily as the laps of the oar against the water. Joy bubbled up in Kristine and she turned to kiss her husband once again.

“So . . .” Kevin’s hand brushed her face. “I’ve been thinking a lot this week. About how much I love you. And how little I’ve done to show it in the past few years.”

The song the gondola driver was singing hit a crescendo and they cruised under the cool shade of the bridge. She could hear the tourists above them, laughing and talking in the evening. “Kevin, it’s okay. Let’s not—”

“We should have celebrated our anniversary,” he insisted. “We should have been together. I’ve just been so . . .” He shook his head. “Look, I’m a hard worker. You know that. And when I lost my job and couldn’t find another one, it scared the shit out of me. I don’t ever want to be in that position again.”

Kristine touched his hand. “It was the economy. Not you.”

“Yeah, but . . .” He gazed at her. “My job is my job, Kris. You’re my life.” The gondola floated out from under the bridge, back into the open water. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “We made it twenty-five years. It was so stupid to not celebrate that with you.”

Kristine swallowed hard, thinking back on that night. “I wanted so badly to be with you,” she whispered, reaching up and touching his soft cheeks.

“I know I pissed you off with that IOU . . .” He smiled. “But hopefully, this will make up for it.”

Reaching into the pocket of his fleece, he pulled out a navy leather box and flipped it open. There, cradled against white satin, was the most beautiful diamond ring Kristine had ever seen. Tiny, antique and surrounded by ornate gold, it sparkled in the light from the lamps at the edge of the water.

“Happy anniversary, Firecracker.” Shyly, Kevin handed her the ring. “I love you.”

Up until that moment, Kristine thought diamonds didn’t matter to her. That she would rather have pieces of jewelry that were exotic and ornate, crafted in some place far from home. But staring down at this perfect, gleaming piece that her husband had picked out for her, she changed her mind.

“Hurry, put it on,” Kevin joked, indicating the murky water. “I don’t want to hit a speed bump and have you drop it or anything.”

The gondola was cruising along at maybe two miles an hour.

Kristine laughed. “I think we’re gonna be just fine.” Still, he reached over and helped to slide the ring onto her finger.

“Over twenty-five years ago,” he said, taking her hand in a way that seemed oddly formal, “I gave you an engagement ring and later, a wedding ring. In honor of that time, I have a question for you.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “Kristine, will you renew your vows with me?”

Kristine blinked. “You want to renew our vows?”

“Yeah. I thought it might be . . .” Kevin looked at her. His eyes were the exact color of the water. “Meaningful. You know?”

The gondola driver finished his song. The night suddenly seemed a little too quiet. Kristine looked down at the ring, blood pounding inside of her ears. She felt herself begin to panic.

This week with Kevin had been wonderful. It had been perfect. But it had been a vacation.

What would happen when they got home? In spite of their conversations and the promises they’d made, maybe nothing had changed between them. And if this new intimacy couldn’t sustain, if everything slipped back to how it was, she would be more brokenhearted than ever. Trying to find the words to explain this, she choked up. “Kevin . . .”

His face clouded over. “You don’t want to?”

“I would love to.” She shook her head, cradling the hand with her new ring. “It’s such a romantic, wonderful idea but I’m just afraid that we’d be doing it for the wrong reasons.”

“I’m in love with you,” he said. “I have been in love with you since the moment I first saw you. Is there a better reason than that?”

“No, but . . .” Kristine gripped the edge of the boat. “I only want to do this if we can stay like this. Be
together
again like this. Not just plan to renew our vows and hope everything gets better.”

Kevin sat in silence, staring out at the water. Another gondola passed with an older couple snuggled up together, drinking from plastic cups filled with champagne. They seemed like they didn’t have a care in the world.

The muscle in Kevin’s jaw pulsed. “Kristine, do you love me?”

“Of course I do. Why do you think I’m so upset that we never spend any time together?”

“I love you, too.” His voice was earnest. “More than anything in this world.” Turning to the gondola driver, he said, “Buddy, will you please sing something?” The gondola driver seemed confused, so Kevin belted out,
“When the moon hits a guy, like a big pizza pie . . .”

“
Bene, bene
,” the driver cried. With renewed vigor, he started to sing.

Kevin grasped her hands. “Kris, I love you.” His eyes burned as brightly as the lights along the shore. “I have been in love with you from that first moment I saw you standing there on the deck, wrapped up in that big, ol’ ugly sweatshirt. We were both young and innocent and had no idea what we were in for. It’s been a ride and it hasn’t always been easy. But we built a
family
together.”

Kristine nodded, feeling the warmth of his hands. They felt as familiar as her own, as much of a part of her body as his. The gondola driver sang louder, his voice carrying through the night.

“I know we have some things to figure out,” he said. “I know that our relationship isn’t perfect. But I want to grow old with you. Yes, I might get wrinkled and craggy and forget who I am and what this life has meant, but I will never forget that the most important person on the planet is the one sitting right in front of me. I love you, Kris. Let’s promise to stay in this thing. Together.”

There was nothing she wanted more than to believe that it was possible to have a love that would last forever. Yes, the past few years had been hard. But that was no excuse to give up.

Feeling her heart swell, she found herself nodding. “Yes,” she said, grabbing her husband’s hands and holding them tight. “Let’s renew our vows.”