Marriage Matters (38 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Ellingsen

BOOK: Marriage Matters
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Seventy-eight

T
hat morning, after the dishes from the breakfast brunch were put away, June looked at her watch. “My, my,” she said. “Is it that time already?”

“What time is that, Mom?” Kristine was reading a book by the fire, her legs tucked up underneath her. She looked so cozy that June almost hated to disturb her. Almost.

“I simply . . .” June’s hands fluttered. “I still have one Christmas wish that hasn’t been met.”

Charley eyed her over the top of his glasses. “Oh?”

June reached over and clasped his hand. “Yes. I would love to do some private shopping at The Places You’ll Go. Since Bernice and Rose are going to step in as bridal matrons, as I will be all alone at the altar . . .” She shot her best wounded look at Kristine. “I need to get them a thank-you present.”

Kristine slid a bookmark into her book and set it on the table. “Of course.” She stretched and looked out at the obviously chilly day. “Did you want to go now?”

June looked at her watch. “Yes. I think now sounds like a great idea.”

* * *

When Kristine pulled the car into her parking space in the alley, it took some fussing to get everybody out. She watched with affection as Charley got out first, testing to see whether or not the sidewalk was slick, before taking June’s hand and helping her. The two clung to each other, shivering, as Kristine unlocked the store.

When they walked in, she stopped in surprise. The place smelled like cranberries and cinnamon. Kristine wondered if someone had left a candle or a potpourri burner on. Or maybe, Annie had decided to ignore the holiday altogether and just do some work. “Hello?” she called. “Is someone here?”

“Hi, Mom,” Chloe called. “Merry Christmas!”

Chloe! What was she doing here?
Kristine had assumed her daughter had gone to Kevin’s that morning. Instead, she must have been here, putting together some sort of a holiday surprise.

“You tricked me.” Kristine turned and shook a finger at June. “I knew that the sudden urge to shop for presents was a little suspicious.”

June gave a tight little smile. “Yes,” she said. “Perhaps I did. Now, go see.”

“Mom?” Chloe called again.

Shaking her head at their exploits, she followed the direction of her daughter’s voice. She wondered what type of present they had pulled off for the store. Maybe it was . . .

Kristine stopped. Her daughter was standing next to the interior door that led to the attic upstairs. “Merry Christmas.” Chloe was beaming, her eyes bright and dancing. “Go on up.”

“To the attic?” Kristine said. “I don’t know if it’s safe . . .”

“Trust me,” Chloe said. “You’ll be just fine.”

June nodded. “We’ll be right here if you need us.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Kristine walked up the stairs, intrigued. The smell of cranberry and cinnamon got stronger. She pushed open the door and stared in surprise.

Seventy-nine

T
he attic above her store had been transformed into an expansive loft. Hardwood floors from the turn of the century gleamed below whitewashed walls and exposed brick accents. Rows of windows along the far wall looked out over Lincoln Park, the treetops sparkling with snow.

Kevin stood in the center of the room, his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a cream-colored sweater with wooden buttons and a pair of well-fitted khakis. “Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice echoing across the empty room.

Kristine stared at him, then looked back toward the door. Was this the surprise? To arrange a meeting with her and Kevin? She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet, wasn’t ready to face him. There was still too much to think about, to figure out.

Leave it to June to put her in this position.

“I’m sorry,” she said, starting to back toward the door. “I’m just not quite ready to—”

“Sorry, Kris.” Kevin’s voice was firm. “We’ve gone far too long without talking.” He walked over to a table by the window. It was covered with a white cloth and a red candle flickered in the center. Two mugs of what looked like hot cocoa had been placed in front of each seat and marshmallows were floating on the top. Pulling out a chair, he said, “Have a seat.”

She stared at him in shock. “Have a seat? Are you kid—”

“No. I’m not.” He stared at her with flinty blue eyes.

Kristine crossed her arms. “You’re ambushing me,” she said. “This isn’t fair. This isn’t—”

“This is what June has been doing to
me
our entire marriage.” His cheeks were flushed, his eyes blazing. “And unless I missed something, you’ve never had a problem with it before.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Kristine said. “I always told her to back off, to let us handle things on her own.” The statement came out a lot weaker than she wanted. Maybe because her requests to her mother to let them handle things on their own had always been a lot weaker than she wanted.

“Exactly,” he said, as though reading her mind. “Have a seat, Kris.” His voice softened. “Please.”

Considering June was right downstairs, very possibly spying on this conversation and intent on having it go a certain way, Kristine knew that she wouldn’t get very far without at least talking to her husband. “Fine,” she said. “But let’s at least go down to my office. This area isn’t mine. I didn’t even know the landlord had done this.”

It certainly explained the banging over the past few weeks. The owners must have remodeled the entire floor. It looked fantastic and she hoped it wouldn’t raise . . .

“You’re looking at the landlord,” Kevin said. “Rumor has it, he had a wife who was tired of living in the suburbs, so he thought it might be a nice idea to buy the unit and get it fixed up. Kinda bad timing on his part, considering she just left him.”

Kristine’s heart jumped. “What?” Her eyes flew to Kevin’s face. They were still as dark as stone, but they were watching her closely.

“I bought the unit,” he said. “With what was supposed to be Chloe’s wedding money. You can thank her later, even though we’ll probably just have to put this place on the market, when you divorce me.” Walking away from her chair, he took a seat at the one on the opposite side of the table. “Sorry it’s so cold up here,” he added. “The heat’s not on yet.”

Kristine looked around, stunned. Everything about the space was modern, rustic and cozy. It had a brick fireplace with a rustic wooden mantel and dark brown wooden beams that stretched across the ceiling. The windows overlooking Lincoln Park made it feel like they were up in a tree house. It was exactly the type of place they’d talked about finding when they’d still planned to move back to the city.

“I don’t understand.” Her hands were trembling, not just because the loft was freezing. “When did . . . How did . . .”

“It was supposed to be a vow renewal surprise,” he said. “But that didn’t turn out so well.”

Slowly, Kristine walked over to the table and took a seat. She looked at Kevin for a long moment, studying the ruddy face that was so familiar yet still seemed to belong to a stranger. It was hard to believe that they had known each other for so long and had drifted so far apart.

“It seems like there’s a lot of things that haven’t turned out so well,” she finally said. “I talked to our financial advisor.”

Kevin’s face paled. “June told you? She said—”

“No, she wouldn’t tell me.” Kristine had to fight to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I had to call our advisor and ask him myself. Humiliating, considering one would think a husband would tell his wife if seventy percent of the retirement account was suddenly gone.”

At the words, her stomach clenched, as it had many times over the past few days.

The phone call to their financial advisor had been devastating, even before she’d heard that news. Kristine had asked him for the financial records for the previous five years, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and danced around his questions about whether or not everything was all right. She’d been shocked to learn that everything was not all right. Apparently, they’d taken a huge hit a few years back, when Kevin had switched their retirement fund to an aggressive approach.

Studying the papers, Kristine couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Even though she’d always been diligent about the store’s financials, Kevin had been the one to handle their personal finances. And why not? He was the one making the money. Besides, he’d always brought the major decisions to her. She was stunned that, in this case, he hadn’t. Staring down at the numbers, his behavior over the past few years began to make sense.

Yes, Kevin had always been a hard worker but his devotion to his new job had been so confusing. He’d said he owed the company for giving him a job at a time where no one else would, but apparently, there was something bigger driving him to stay employed. According to the numbers, if his current job hadn’t kept him around, they would have spent the rest of their lives scrambling just to get by.

“For the past few years, I have been trying to understand why you would want to spend so much time away from me, away from our family,” Kristine said. “When you could have just told me—”

“I couldn’t tell you,” he said.

“Why?” she demanded. “I am your wife! I have the right to know if—”

“Because I felt like such a loser,” he cried. At the look of raw shame on his face, she stared down at the table. The only sound was his labored breathing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he was clenching his hands so hard that his knuckles had turned white. “I’ve spent my whole life working hard, trying to make something out of myself. I gave us a good life, then . . .” His voice cracked. “How do you think I felt, when I’d given my whole life to one company and then they let me go?”

Kristine looked at him in surprise. Even though she’d tried, many times, to get him to discuss this, he’d always refused. Now, he was staring down at his hands, the tips of his ears bright red.

“Kevin,” she said, her voice gentle. “It was the econ—”

“Bullshit.” He ran his hand over his face. Giving a sharp sniff, he looked her in the eye. “There are still lots of guys who used to be my friends who still have their jobs. Why didn’t they get let go?”

“Because,” she said. “They . . . They hadn’t been there for twenty years, they weren’t making the type of money you were, they . . .” She didn’t know the answer and suddenly realized that maybe there wasn’t one. “I don’t know,” she said. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“I did everything right,” he said, shaking his head. “But that’s the thing that gets me. Because in the end, what did it matter? After all that planning, all that playing it safe, I still found myself struggling to find money to take care of my family. After I got this job, I thought I’d make a big move, make the money we lost back and make you proud of me again. Instead . . .” His voice trailed off and the muscle in his jaw worked, the way it always did when he was too scared to show emotion.

Kristine felt her eyes smart with tears. “I was always proud of you,” she whispered. “You gave us such a good life. I can’t believe you didn’t just talk to—”

He shrugged. “I wanted to tell you. But I was afraid you’d leave.”

“You thought I’d leave you?” Kristine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “For
money
?”

“No,” he said. “For putting our family at risk.”

“I’m your wife,” she whispered. “I never would have left you.”

Kevin made a sound that could have been a snort. “Oh, really? Unless I’m missing something, yeah. You would.”

Silence fell between them.

“This is different,” Kristine finally said. When he scoffed, she insisted, “Kevin, it is. I don’t know you anymore. I have barely seen you for the past five years. The most time we’ve had together was Venice and even then, I knew . . .” Her voice trembled and she took a breath, trying to steady it. “I had a feeling that it wouldn’t last. I knew that, in the end, you’d still want to spend more time away from me.”

“I have been gone because I’ve been working so hard to fix what had happened, not because I wanted to be away from you,” he said. “It’s
killed
me to be away from you.” The words came out in a ragged whisper and her heart ached.

Desperately, Kristine’s eyes scanned the loft he’d designed for them. It was so perfect. She had to wonder, how could he have created something so perfect when they didn’t know each other anymore, at all? Looking up at the ceiling, she wished that this could be easier.

“Kevin, I . . .” A sudden chill hit her and she shivered.

Immediately, he was on his feet, shrugging out of his cable-knit sweater. “It’s too cold in here.” He handed it to her. “Put this on.”

The sweater was as big and warm as a blanket. When she made no move to put it on, Kevin walked over to her and gently pulled it down over her head. His scent seemed to engulf her and she felt tears somewhere in the back of her throat. Was this the last time she’d be this close to him? Would this be the moment that she’d look back on, when she dared to think of the times they’d shared? She bowed her head, too pained to speak.

“This isn’t the end, Kris,” Kevin told her. He crouched down, until they were both eye level, his voice earnest. “I said forever and I meant it.”

Kristine shook her head, thinking of the months and years of loneliness stretching out in front of her. “I can’t do it,” she whispered. “I can’t spend the rest of my life all alone in that big house—”

“We can sell the house,” he pleaded. “We’ll have to, to finish paying for this place. And if we can’t sell it, we can rent it. I want to live up here, with you. To be a part of your life, a part of your work . . .”

Kristine tugged at the sweater, half tempted to rip it off. His warmth, his smell . . . It was too much. Too painful. “You’d still be gone. The constant
he’s here, now he’s gone, he’s here, now he’s gone
. I can’t do it. I just can’t.” Her voice was close to hysteria. She glanced at the door, wondering if she could get up and leave. Go back to June’s and sign up for some cruise that would take her to the other side of the world. Some place far away, where she could forget who she was, where she was from and all of the promises that had gotten broken along the way.

“I have a solution—”

“You had
a solution in Venice,” she cried. “You told me that you were going to figure out a way to work less, to spend more time with me. Or, if you couldn’t work less, then to at least spend quality time with me. Instead, you decided to take a job that would—”

“Listen,” he begged. “I talked to my boss about coming in off the road. There’s nothing available at headquarters but there is a comparable travel position to the one that they gave me.”

He didn’t get it. He truly didn’t get it. And he never would.

“The position is international,” Kevin said. “China, Germany, Japan. Occasionally the U.K. I’d only have to travel once every six weeks, for two weeks at a time. But I thought, if I did something like that, it might work. That maybe you’d want to come with me.”

Kristine blinked. “What?”

“Yeah. I, uh . . .” He cleared his throat. “I told my boss that I’d give him an answer after the wedding. Guess I’ll have to explain that little fiasco to him, unless . . .” Kevin stared at her, his eyes intent. “Unless you wanted to do something like that. You know, see the world. Together.”

“But . . .” Her mind suddenly felt like it was traveling at a hundred miles an hour. “You hate going to foreign countries. Everything about it. Kevin, you’d hate that.”

“Venice wasn’t so bad.” He gave a tentative smile. “As a matter of fact, I have some pretty good memories. I’d still have to work,” he said quickly, “which means you’d be on your own during most days.”

Kristine stared at him, as though he was speaking a foreign language.

“But at night, I thought we could go out,” he said. “Explore. Use some of those guidebooks. Speaking of, maybe you could give Annie a promotion, put her in charge of the store a little more often. We’ve already talked about it a little bit. She’s been pretty helpful with this whole loft thing.”

Kristine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Annie knew about all this?” Suddenly, she remembered that day Annie had told her that not everything was as it seemed. Shaking her head, she mumbled, “You really gathered the troops, didn’t you?”

“It takes a village,” he joked, then his eyes got serious. “Think about it for a moment, Kris.” Reaching for her hand, he held it in his. “Imagine us here. Growing old together. Then, every few weeks . . . heading out to see the world together.”

Looking around the loft, Kristine imagined waking up every morning with Kevin, gazing out the windows at the trees etched against the sky. Walking past the exposed brick to that staircase, to open up her store. Helping customers plan their trips while knowing that, every few weeks, she and her husband would be flying somewhere new, holding hands as they flew over the ocean.

“Oh, my gosh,” Kristine said, as it all hit her. She swallowed hard. “Oh, my gosh.”

Kevin cocked his head, watching her in confusion. “Does that . . . Is that—”

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