Meant To Be (9 page)

Daniel nodded.

“And you like living in New Jersey now?” She noticed they’d reached the park.

“Yes. I loved the house from the first time I saw it, but when I saw it was near a park, I was completely sold. It seemed ideal, a house within walking distance of a park, all the makings for a perfect childhood.” They walked toward the swings. She sat down first, extending her legs but not swinging until Daniel sat down. He sat in the swing next to hers, in the opposite direction, so when he stretched out his legs they were facing each other.

“Are you and Justine planning to have kids soon?” she asked.

“I don’t know about soon. Justine says she can’t fit kids into her schedule quite yet. But someday. I’ve always wanted children.” Daniel said the words with conviction.

“Me too. I want to have kids while I’m still young enough to enjoy them. I want to enjoy them, period. So many people act like children are a burden, or a chore. I don’t want my kids to ever feel that way.”

“I agree. My father was one of those people who thought children were a burden. He left my mother before I was even born. The main thing I know about him is that I want to be the exact opposite of him.”

“You were raised by your mom?”

“Yes. And not a day went by when I didn’t feel completely wanted. That’s the kind of parent I hope to be.”

“You will be,” Marienne said. “And just think, if the timing works, we can take our kids to the park together.”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan.” He pulled back further on his swing. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Marienne nodded as she stretched her legs as far as they would go.

They let go at precisely the same moment, swinging past one another with a rush of cool air. Their laughter echoed through the darkness, their eyes meeting for a second each time they swished past one another, again and again. They crossed paths, never touching, yet still connecting.

Chapter Nine

Daniel was amazed how many changes Marienne had made since he’d been to her house the week before. She had finished unpacking and it now had a homey feel, particularly the kitchen. Shelves of cookbooks and culinary gadgets lined one wall, rows of spices hung by the five-burner stove, ceramic jars of flour and sugar lined the edge of the grey countertop.

Marienne was a flurry of activity, making coffee, slicing strawberries and uncovering the massive cheesecake she’d withdrawn from the fridge. Daniel offered to help so she’d asked him to get the coffee mugs.

As he reached into the cupboard, he glanced out the window over the sink. The view was of his house, the mirror image of the view he had from his windows. Even from the distance of both yards, he could see the starkness of his own kitchen. No clutter, Justine’s style.

Marienne took the mugs from him. “You want to grab the cheesecake for me?”

“Sure.” He followed her into the living room.

“Oh my God,” Justine said, studying the newly hung photos above the piano. “Your wedding pictures are beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Marienne poured coffee.

Daniel placed the cheesecake on the coffee table.

“Our wedding was fucking awesome,” Frank said. “Marienne planned it perfectly. Everyone’s got these horror stories about wedding shit going crazy, but ours was flawless from start to finish.”

Justine continued examining the photos. “I wish I’d known you when we got married. Our wedding planner was a nightmare. I could have used your help.”

Marienne smiled.

Daniel thought it was best he say nothing. His wedding day had been a series of disasters, and Justine had been nearly hysterical throughout the event. Other than the vows and the wedding night, he’d just as soon forget the whole affair.

He had to agree with Justine though. Frank and Marienne’s wedding photos were lovely. The flowers and church were stunning, like something out of a movie. Marienne looked gorgeous. He was surprised it was Frank who was gushing over how great the wedding was, while Marienne remained silent. He thought he caught a hint of sadness in her face.

“Who wants cheesecake?” she asked, silver cake server at the ready.

****

When the movie ended, Daniel and Justine said their goodnights and headed home.

Marienne was rinsing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher when she felt Frank alongside her.

“I’m tired,” he said. “Come to bed.”

“I will. I want to start the dishwasher first.”

“Don’t take all night.” He kissed her and pressed against her hip.

“I won’t.”

Before he even made it to the staircase, Marienne’s mind returned to Justine’s comment about their wedding. She was right; it was beautiful. From the rose covered archway, to the bridesmaids’ dresses, to the menu—everything was just right. To anyone watching it was like a dream. Marienne’s reality, however, was anything but.

From the moment she’d begun to plan her wedding, her mother had been the main problem, making trouble through every stage of the planning process. Complaining. Putting things down. The final straw had come at the wedding.

Marienne remembered the evening with crystal clarity. The ceremony and photo session had gone great, with the exception that for most of the time Marienne had needed to pee. No matter how many times she tried to excuse herself, she kept getting swept away by guests who wanted to offer congratulations or kiss the bride.

When she finally caught a moment alone, she slipped into the large powder room by the private lounge. It was away from the crowd, and she was glad. It was all going so fast; she wanted a minute to herself.

As she emerged from the stall, she caught sight of herself in the long mirror above the vanity. She looked flushed, but happy. The ornately decorated walls of the bathroom, deep dusty pinks and mauves accented with gold fixtures, cast a warm glow on her silky white dress. The gown had turned out just as she’d wanted, fitted through her tiny waist, and flaring into a luscious, full swirl around her hips. The bodice fit perfectly, lifting her breasts nice and high, and the simple necklace sparkled along the edge of her collarbone. For once, she felt pretty. She reached up to adjust an earring and heard voices coming from the sitting area.

“Marienne looks absolutely beautiful.”

Marienne recognized the voice. It was her new mother-in-law, Ruth.

“Mmmmm.” An equally recognizable voice responded. “Well, she better keep herself looking decent if she wants to hang onto Frank.” Without question that was Marienne’s mother, Lois.

“Oh, Lois,” Ruth said.

“I’m serious. Frank is a good-looking guy, and he makes money. I bet he had his choice of women in Manhattan. She better make it worth his while to come home to her.”

Marienne’s face fell. A mix of hurt and anger rose in her throat. She opened the powder room door and stepped into the sitting room.

“Marienne.” Ruth stood and rushed over. “Oh sweetie, you look beautiful. Your dress is gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Marienne said, unable to stop staring at her mother.

Lois turned to look up at her. “You should have put your hair up, it’s starting to frizz. Good thing they take the photos at the beginning. Hopefully some of those will come out decent.”

“Lois.” Ruth sounded desperate. “Isn’t this the most beautiful gown you’ve ever seen?”

Lois looked Marienne up and down. “Another one she tried on had a slimmer cut. That would have been more flattering. Marienne’s hips don’t need any extra padding. God help you when you have kids, you can’t afford to spread any wider or Frank will leave you for sure.”

Marienne’s jaw dropped. She noticed the cocktail clutched in her mother’s hand and tried to remind herself that she was always meaner when she was drinking, but still. This was her wedding day, and this was in front of her mother-in-law.
How could she?

“Lois, come, let’s go get some more hors d’oeuvres, I’m starving.” Ruth smoothed a hand over Marienne’s dress, fixing a pleat in her bustle.

Lois nearly tipped over, but steadied herself and moved toward the door.

Couldn’t Dad have kept an eye on her, just this one night?

Ruth kissed Marienne’s cheek. “You look lovely. Frank’s a lucky man.” She followed Lois out of the room.

Marienne knew Ruth was trying to make her feel better, but it wasn’t working. She knew what her mother meant—once again Marienne was a screw up, a disappointment, and any happiness she felt would be short-lived. It hurt to hear the words, but it also made her angry.
I’m married now. I have my own life. My own husband. And soon I’ll be done with graduate school, and I’ll have a career. I don’t need my parents or their approval. I can finally break away.

She walked out of the powder room, shaken but filled with determination. This was going to be a new start, for everything.

Marienne made it through the rest of the evening, dancing and smiling. She talked with guests, cut cake and fed it to Frank, posed for photos. Even with all that, putting the conversation with her mother out of her mind was impossible. Her stomach churned every time she saw Lois’s sickeningly sweet, fake smile or heard her gushing over how glad she was people came. She was busy taking credit for the
lovely wedding
that she hadn’t lifted a finger to help plan.

Marienne and Frank were escorted to the bridal suite. The bellboy towed a large cart of ornate boxes and gift bags behind them. She was desperate to tell Frank what had happened. She needed to know she had his support and understanding.

Frank, however, needed to know what kind of gifts they’d raked in. He busied himself opening boxes and cards and having her write down who gave them what. No doubt so she could write out all the thank you notes and he could sign them when she was done.

“My mother,” she said, trying to start the conversation she’d been wanting to have for hours.

“Jesus,” Frank said, pulling a check out of one of the cards. “The fucking Albertsons gave us five hundred bucks. This is awesome.”

Marienne decided to wait until they were done opening gifts. When they finally finished she tried again.

“My mother…” She struggled to keep her voice steady.

“I don’t want to talk about your mother,” Frank said, pushing her down into the pile of shredded wrapping paper that now covered the bed. He kissed her, his tongue wet and heavy, unfortunately reminiscent of their awkward first kiss. He tasted like scotch and stale coffee. Her body tensed.
This is not how it’s supposed to be. This is my wedding night. This is my husband.

She tried to think of a way to get more into what was happening. Frank’s insistent hands didn’t help. He was pushing away the layers of her dress, trying to undo her garters, pulling aside her panties.

“So hot.” His tongue assaulted her mouth. “Fucking my new wife in her wedding dress.”

It was clearly Frank’s wedding fantasy. The fact the bride didn’t share the vision, or the enthusiasm, seemed irrelevant.

Marienne squirmed, trying to break away, needing a moment to collect her thoughts or at least catch up.

“Oh baby,” he said. “I love the way you move.”

She tried to speak, but once again his tongue was deep inside her mouth. She tried to kiss him back. Really tried, desperate to feel something, anything. It didn’t work. For her at least. For Frank it worked too well.

“Oh yeah.” He moaned, climbing on top of her.

“Frank.” She attempted to tell him to stop, that she wasn’t ready, but it was too late, he was inside her.

She gasped, not from pleasure, but from a combination of shock and pain. She was dry, and the friction of him pumping in and out rasped at her tender skin. She moaned in distress, but Frank mistook her cry for passion.

“Oh baby.” He groaned, thrusting faster. And she stopped resisting.

She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to block out what was happening, trying not to cry as he jerked harder against her now still body. Within a minute it was over. He shuddered once and collapsed on top of her, his sweaty forehead resting against her neck. She turned her face away.

“Oh man.” He rolled off her. “I think I’m going to like married life.”

Seconds later she heard the first breathy, rattling snore. Tears began to slide down her cheeks.
How could this have gone so wrong?
She went into the bathroom to undress.

She struggled out of her gown, twisting and stretching to reach all the buttons. She needed someone to help her, but there was no one. When she managed to get enough undone she shimmied her way out. The dress puddled around her on the bathroom floor, and instead of wanting to hang it back up in its bag, she had the urge to stuff it in the trash. She didn’t even want to look at it. Her perfect wedding, her perfect day, had turned into a disaster.

The wedding memories flooded Marienne’s mind with more anguish than she expected. She loaded the last dish into the dishwasher then hit the start button. She rinsed her hands and dried them, folding the towel when she was done, aware she was trying to buy herself time. She didn’t want Frank to be awake when she went up to bed. Her trip down memory lane was not the best aphrodisiac.

It’s not my wedding night anymore, and Frank isn’t always in a selfish rush. Maybe tonight will be better. Or maybe he’ll already be sleeping.
It bothered her that she couldn’t decide which she hoped for more as she climbed the stairs and headed for bed.