The Status of All Things (16 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

While packing for our trip to Big Bear, I thumb the Lycra fabric of my sunflower-yellow bikini, my mind wandering back to the morning we left for Maui. Max had just returned home from his morning run and I’d just reopened my suitcase so I could pack this very swimsuit, along with a matching cover-up and oversized straw hat. He’d found me straddling the black and red Tumi wheeled bag, pressing my weight into it as I attempted to zip it closed. I’d looked up and he was leaning against the doorjamb, his cheeks ashen, not flushed like they normally were after completing a six-mile run.

“What’s wrong?” I’d jumped up from the bag and the top had sprung open, revealing the straw hat that was now smashed. I shook my head and pulled it out.

“Just watching you,” he’d said, taking a long drink from his bottle of water.

“Oh?” I’d said, still staring at his face, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful, you know that? Inside and out.”

“Why thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Kate. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I’d said, confused by his solemn tone. I’d leaned in to kiss him, but missed his mouth because he’d grabbed me, enveloping me in a bearlike hug.

I’d squirmed out of his grasp, the sweat from his chest having created a large spot on my sundress. “What’s gotten into you—you know we’re going to be late if you don’t get in the shower. And now I have to change out of this!” I shook my head at him. “We have a five-and-a-half-hour flight to snuggle!”

He’d smiled and said, “You’re right, we do.”

But as I’d turned to attend to my bag, a pair of espadrilles having now spilled out from it, I caught Max’s expression from the corner of my eye—he looked sad.

As I thought back, it had been another warning sign I clearly hadn’t wanted to see. So much so that I’d blocked it out until now—the bikini unlocking the memory. I toss the bathing suit aside and pack a simple black one-piece instead, not wanting to relive that moment, the one where he might have told me he couldn’t go to Maui at all, if I’d been paying a little more attention. If listening to him had been more important than how many pairs of shoes I could shove into my suitcase.

First thing tomorrow morning, we’d be driving up the winding road toward the city at the top of the mountain where we first fell in love, the large green pine trees whirling by, the expansive canyons overwhelming, and hopefully the silence in the car wouldn’t be deafening. In the past few days, our conversations had been limited, us becoming more like ships passing in the night as our work schedules became increasingly demanding so we could each take the two weeks off for the wedding and honeymoon. Max’s devotion to work didn’t concern me—last time around, he’d spent the same amount of hours in the office and Courtney wasn’t working there. And even though she was now a fellow em
ployee, I got the sense that she’d been in training most of the time and they only saw each other occasionally in the halls or the parking lot, that I had maybe let my imagination get the best of me. But it did concern me that when I did see Max—passing each other as one of us stepped out of the shower and the other into it, or in the kitchen as we’d silently eaten from our Styrofoam take-out containers—our exchanges felt stilted. I felt out of the loop in his life, wishing he’d give me more details about his days, more information about how he was feeling. As I’d complained about how Magda now wanted
me
to find a replacement for Courtney, he’d moved his head up and down as if he was listening but offered nothing more. I worried that he was keeping
everything
bottled because he was scared that if he uttered even one word, every thought he was having would cascade out of his mouth. Including his doubts about me. So I hadn’t pushed, hoping that our trip to Big Bear would organically inspire us to talk the way we used to—and maybe remind him of who we used to be together.

• • •

“Kate, when will you have candidates for me to meet?” Magda’s piercing voice barks through the phone later that day while I’m nestled in my office, listening to my relaxation playlist on my iPod. I hold the receiver away from my ear as she hollers about how bad this gap in our executive staff is going to make our firm look to our clients.

The truth was, I hadn’t found anyone who even halfway compared to Courtney. Her work ethic, the blend of humor and heart she injected into her pitches, and her innate awareness of what clients wanted were incomparable. I hated to admit it, but I missed her. Not the part of her
that wanted to take Max from me, but the part that made my work life easier. I stare at the ré
sumés on my desk, the endless stream of people who would kill for this job, none of them coming close to having the experience or talent Courtney does. “Are you sure you don’t want to rehire Courtney?” I hear myself asking.

“No fucking way!” Magda cries.

“Okay, then,” I say evenly. “I’ll keep looking.”

“Try LinkedIn,” she screams as she hangs up the phone.

“Gee, thanks for the hot tip,” I say into the dial tone.

I stare out the window and wonder what my life would be like if I’d just accepted that Max wasn’t the man I was supposed to marry. There were so many things I’d never know. Like if I’d still be working at the agency with Courtney or if one of us would’ve quit because the tension between us would’ve been insurmountable. Or if Max and Courtney would’ve ended up in a relationship or quickly discovered that once their secret feelings were revealed, the excitement was gone. And there was also no way of knowing if I would’ve been miserable without Max, or, after experiencing some time alone, would’ve discovered I was happier without him. But I’d never find out if that was the case because, for whatever reason, I was given a second chance. And it’s this opportunity that has been the sliver of hope I’ve been clinging to—that tiny ray of light shining through the crack that reminds me there is still a chance. That the universe has made a mistake and is trying to right itself.

My phone buzzes with a notification. Callie Trenton from college has commented on my oddly shaped wedding gift picture.
It’s definitely a cake pop maker! They’re all the rage!
I click over to her page and there’s a series of pictures from her latest family vacation to the Bahamas. As I scroll through her album, I feel that twinge of jealousy in my chest and it slowly builds until I finally have to close out of Facebook completely.

“She’s only posting the best parts of her life,” Jules says adamantly when I call her and tell her about the pictures—the last was of her swollen belly, revealing that she’s expecting her third baby.

“She has a lot of ‘best parts,’ ” I remark.

“How old are her kids again? I can’t remember,” Jules asks.

“I don’t know.”

“You practically stalk this woman’s page and you can’t even ballpark it? Come on!”

“Okay—maybe they’re eight and ten?”

“Oh, honey, let me tell you something. That is definitely an oops baby!” Jules squeals.

“How do you know?” I ask, my mind flashing back to Callie’s hands wrapped around her slightly protruding belly, the sun setting behind her making her look almost angel-like, the caption “Heaven on Earth” seemingly fitting.

“I’m looking at her page now and I’m just telling you that there is
no way
she and her husband looked lovingly into each other’s eyes after eight years and said,
You know what? Our life is just a little too easy right now. We are sleeping through the night, everyone’s potty trained and can basically fend for themselves, so, hey, let’s go through the newborn and toddler hell all over again!
That would be like Ben and me getting pregnant right now. I love my two children. But three? No thank you. I can’t even fathom adding a pet to our household! I can’t be held responsible for one more living thing—not even a goddamn houseplant!”

“Aren’t you being a little harsh?” I ask with a laugh, caught off guard by Jules’ tone.

“I’m just saying that no matter what the
real
story is with that baby, Callie has the same bullshit in her life we all do. She’s just not posting about it. The same way I’m not and you’re not.
I mean, look at your mom. We both know she’s bitter half the time about something that happened twenty years ago, but if you believe only what she writes on her Facebook feed, she’s the most secure woman in the world.” Jules giggles. “Like that one from today—”

I sigh, remembering my mom’s most recent post that laser hair removal was the best thing since sliced bread.

“So, Big Bear tomorrow! You excited?” Jules asks, and I’m thankful she’s changed the subject, although this one is no less painful.

“I’m nervous. I feel like this is it. That if I can’t get through to him this weekend, it’s over.”

“You will. You just need some time alone together,” she says, and pauses, and I can sense her unspoken words hanging in the air.

“What?” I ask. “I can
feel
you
thinking over there. Just say whatever’s on your mind.”

Jules exhales before answering, as if trying to decide if I can handle her internal dialogue. Finally, she breaks the silence. “Marriage is hard, Kate.
My
marriage is hard. Even when you get off on the right foot, you have to always keep fighting for it. The minute you stop, it starts to slip away from you again. So if this is what you want—”

“It is,” I interrupt.

“Then fight like hell for it, and then whatever happens, you can walk away without any regrets.”

I pause, letting her words settle—knowing they aren’t just for me. Now that I had seen the cracks that existed in her marriage, I wondered how long they had been there. Maybe if I had looked just a little harder, paid a little more attention, if I hadn’t been so self-consumed, I would’ve seen her distress sooner.

“Jules, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“You’ve got your hands full with your own problems, girlfriend!” She laughs, but I hear her voice break slightly.

“True.” I echo her laugh. “But, seriously, Jules, I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t even notice my fiancé was falling for one of my closest friends. So I’m here to tell you that my head is officially out of my ass. And I don’t want to miss anything else important that could be going on with someone I love. So I’m here for you. Okay?” I pause, hoping she’ll quickly fill the silence with the story of whatever she’s been going through—that as her words spill out of her, she’ll feel an instant release and she won’t feel so alone. That just talking to me will help.

I hear her take a deep breath. “Don’t worry, my problems will still be here after we solve yours—we can deal with them then, okay? Oh shit!” she cries out.

“What is it?” I exclaim.

“I have to go—my cheese soufflé is about to collapse. And I’m late to pick Evan up from piano. Or is it soccer? Dammit! Good luck this weekend! Love you!”

“Love you too,” I say after she’s gone, and hope that the cheese soufflé is the only thing collapsing in her life.

• • •

“It’s exactly the same—they haven’t changed a thing,” I say, dropping my weekender bag on the auburn-colored chenille chair in the corner and pulling open the curtains to reveal the dark blue water of Big Bear Lake. The ride up the mountain had started off slow but then had gone quickly, me peppering Max with intelligent-sounding questions about the latest product his company was working on, thanks to the incessant Google searching I had done the night before.

I feel Max wrap his arms around my waist and rest his chin on my shoulder. “It is spectacular. Are you up for kayaking?” He holds out a pamphlet that he must have grabbed from the lobby.

I can think of about fifty things I’d rather do.

“Maybe . . . I was thinking of popping this open first.” I reach into my bag and pull out a bottle of wine. “And then opening these.” I grab the waistband of his jeans and guide him toward the bed, pushing the colorful quilt onto the floor, trying not to search his face for the same desire I’m feeling, not wanting to read into his every touch. But to my relief, Max engulfs me with an urgency I hadn’t seen in months, his teeth grazing my ear as he throws me down onto the bed, not even bothering to undress me, instead just pulling my skirt up around my waist and sliding inside me, both of us calling out when we climax together a few minutes later before collapsing onto the floor, still entangled in each other’s arms. For the first time since I had been given my power, I forgot about Courtney and what happened at the rehearsal dinner. I forgot to be scared that Max might do it to me again. For those brief wonderful moments, I forgot myself.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Max says, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “But that was amazing—it felt new, like it used to, in the beginning.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I say as I nuzzle up to him.

“I can’t believe I wanted to go kayaking instead of this!” He laughs and runs his hand down my leg, sending ripples of excitement through me.

I rest my head on his chest, and as it rises and falls, my own breathing syncs with his.
This is us. This is who we are—two people who aren’t predictable, just in sync with each other,
I think as I fall into a deep sleep.