by Hilary Dartt
Josie laughed, an ugly, barking sound, and looked at Paul.
“Of course,” she said. “We both do.”
A tiny flame of fear flickered somewhere between her chest and her throat. Did Paul want to stay together? He hadn’t said anything to indicate otherwise. He thought their marriage was fine. Fine! But who wanted fine? Who wanted mediocre? Shouldn’t their marriage be good, or even great?
Not even a second had passed, but Dr. Strasser was looking expectantly at Paul. Josie’s stomach fluttered wildly.
To her immense relief, Paul nodded. “Of course,” he said.
“Good. Okay. Let’s begin with what is working. What’s good about your marriage?”
“He’s my best friend,” Josie said.
“Oh, really?” Paul answered. “I am pretty sure—positive, actually—that Summer and Delaney are your best friends.”
Yikes.
“We tell each other everything,” Josie said.
“No offense, Josie, but I think you might be delusional. You didn’t even tell me we were having problems.”
“I’d think you would have noticed on your own.”
“Let’s not turn this into an argument,” Dr. Strasser cut in. “I just want each of you to share a few things that are working for you. Josie’s given us one. It’s your turn, Paul. What is working right now?”
Paul shrugged.
“Well, I feel kind of stupid saying this now, but I always thought Josie was supportive of my career. We both have big aspirations and I thought it was something we had in common.”
“I am supportive of your career!”
Both Paul and Dr. Strasser looked surprised at Josie’s outburst, which exited her mouth in a shriek. “I am supportive,” she said in a calmer voice. “But not when it completely ruins any time we have together.”
“Perhaps I should have done this at the beginning, but I wanted to jump right in since you were a bit late,” Dr. Strasser said. Josie closed her eyes to keep from rolling them and Dr. Strasser went on, “Let’s lay a few ground rules. During every appointment, I will ask questions that I want each of you to answer without interference from the other. I promise you, you’ll get a chance to respond. In fact—” he paused and opened a desk drawer, producing two pads of lined paper and two pens, which he handed to Josie and Paul— “Here. Take notes. This way you won’t forget what you want to say.”
The rest of their appointment was fairly amicable, if a little uncomfortable. And very revealing.
Apparently, Paul felt like their sex life had gone downhill to the point of being completely nonexistent. He felt like Josie was a hypocrite for talking about how his work had taken over his life. He even said she had evolved into a cold, closed-off stranger with a propensity for angry outbursts.
“So you said you thought everything was fine, but it didn’t take much prodding from Dr. Strasser here to bring all of this to light,” Josie said after he poured his heart out, and all his other organs, too.
He just shrugged.
“I want to give you some homework,” Dr. Strasser said. “In your notebooks, I want you to describe the best time in your marriage, and the time when you’ve felt like it was at its weakest. For each entry, write down how you felt during those times.”
“And don’t worry,” he added when they both remained silent. “The end of the first appointment always feels a bit … well, a bit depressing. I have a feeling with you two that things will get better from here. Chins up.”
***
The Best Times
Josie underlined the three words, then sighed and set down her pencil.
“Nothing, huh?” Paul looked at her from the opposite end of the couch.
He was so handsome, she thought, with his dark hair and five o’clock shadow. His eyes twinkled at her.
Maybe sharing a nemesis will be good for us. Stop it. Dr. Strasser isn’t a nemesis. We’re paying him to help us.
She felt like crying and laughing. Summer’s kids had a name for that. Craughing. It wasn’t that she didn’t have anything to write down on her “The Best Times” homework assignment. It was just that she missed those times.
Because she felt herself bordering on hysteria, Josie stood up.
“I have lots of things, actually,” she said. “But I think it’s better if I do this alone.”
Rather than responding, Paul looked back down at his own notepad.
Josie could see his writing already scrawled over half a page. She sighed and wondered whether he had written about the New Year’s Eve when they were both so sick with a stomach virus they fell asleep on the couch watching TV, waiting for the ball to drop in New York City. They woke up drenched in sweat at two a.m., their fevers broken, and hobbled to bed where they fell asleep in each other’s arms. It wasn’t the most celebratory New Year’s Eve, but for some strange reason it was one of their mutual favorites. Maybe he wrote about the time they went horseback riding and she fell off within a few feet of the trailhead. She refused to get back on, and they both ended up walking the horses back to the stable. They went for a beer at a new pub, joking that trying out a new brew was just as adventurous as going for a trail ride.
Locked in their bedroom, Josie was able to concentrate. She found that once she began writing, the words flowed effortlessly.
I guess what initially attracted me to Paul was that what you see is what you get. No secrets, no pre-planned stories, no contrived situations.
His marriage proposal is a perfect example.
He dragged me out for a hike on Granite Mountain (I hate hiking and really, exercise of any kind aside from exercise in the bedroom. But isn’t the beginning of any relationship the best time for forcing your significant other to try new things?). The lookout at the peak is nothing short of incredible. How could it not be romantic?
So we’re standing there, and Paul is taking in the views, I mean just soaking them up like he’s never seen anything so beautiful. And I’m behind him, huffing and puffing with my hands on my knees like I’ve never hiked up such a high mountain. At that time, I hadn’t.
After the next few minutes, which I spent getting my breathing and heart rate almost back to normal, I finally brought myself to a standing position and took a few wobbly steps toward Paul. He turned to face me, and we were both grinning like idiots.
It seemed natural to put our arms around each other, and we stood there looking out over Juniper for a few minutes in silence.
I remember these moments so clearly. “It’s pretty awesome, right?” he asked me. “It’s awesome, but I’m not sure it’s worth the hike,” I said.
He said, “I wasn’t talking about the view, Josie. Being together is awesome. Whether we’re hiking or… shopping.”
We both laughed, but then he turned me toward him, his hands on my shoulders. He looked so intense all of a sudden.
“I want to marry you,” he said, still looking straight into my eyes. “I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?”
“Yes” came right out of my mouth. I didn’t even have to think about it. I wasn’t even surprised or shocked. I think I somehow knew our relationship would come to this. I knew we were meant to be together. I knew I wanted to marry him. Even if he’d tried to kill me by dragging me on that ridiculous hike.
We were giddy all the way down that mountainside.
He later told me he hadn’t planned to propose that day. He had thought about asking me, but wanted to do something more romantic. Something with candles and flowers and a fancy dinner. But the moment was so perfect, he asked me right then.
And you know what? I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
How did I feel at that moment? I felt happy. Over-the-top happy. I felt surprised. I felt out of breath. Not only because I’d hiked up that damned mountain, but also because I was so in love with this man and I couldn’t wait to begin our life together.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Josie couldn’t believe she’d almost slipped and told Scott Smith
she once believed they were soul mates. The Romeo and Juliet of Juniper. Each of them should want to die rather than be apart (yes, Mama would be turning over in her proverbial grave).
Surely Scott would have latched onto that, begged her to reexamine the possibility over drinks, to consider being with him now.
How could she be so stupid?
Of course they weren’t star-crossed lovers. Scott Smith was a secretive man (a charming man, too, she’d give him that), and she never knew what he was really thinking. For all she knew, his whispered proclamations of never-ending love were simply pre-planned steps to make his contrived story of heartbreak more realistic.
She had to give him a firm “no” to the drinks invitation. She had to tell him their personal relationship was completely over, that she couldn’t and wouldn’t talk to him about anything unrelated to Juniper Elementary School.
It was Thursday morning, and she put on a crisp, light blue button-up shirt and a black pencil skirt with high black heels and a string of pearls. She knew she looked as serious and determined as she felt, and she strode into Scott Smith’s office ten minutes before school with her heart pounding in her throat.
He looked up, surprised, and she couldn’t help but smile. When he smiled back at her, she felt like she was the only woman in the world.
Well, you are the only woman in Scott’s office, Josie. So it’s nothing special. Don’t let that one smile blow up your skirt.
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
“Coffee?”
Josie glanced quickly around her. The front office ladies, Cheryl and Tammy, made a big show of not listening, but she knew their ears were pricked by the way their hands were poised over their keyboards and their backs were razor-straight.
“Um, no. But can I shut the door?” Josie said.
He inclined his head toward the door, and she shut it behind her. For some reason, being this close to him still made her nervous. Scott motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk, but Josie shook her head. He looked at her as if she were a tiger who might attack at any moment.
Not in a sexy, I’m-wearing-silk-boxers way, but in an I’m-slightly-scared-you-might-kill-me way.
Josie blew out the breath she was holding and said, “I just came to tell you that I can’t talk to you anymore. About personal things. I can’t have drinks with you. I can’t have coffee with you in the morning when the moon is still up. My marriage is very important to me, and I don’t want to do anything to threaten it.”
When he didn’t answer, and instead continued to stare at her with his eyebrows raised, she said, “Okay?”
He nodded. “I understand.”
A few seconds ticked by. For a split second, Scott looked shocked and maybe even hurt. Then his expression became unreadable. Blank.
Again, she felt vaguely uncomfortable.
“Okay then,” she said. “I guess that’s it.”
She turned around to open the door. Through the pane window, she could see Cheryl and Tammy in the front office, still holding suspiciously still.
“Josie,” he said.
She turned toward him, her hand still on the doorknob.
“I want you to know that my invitation to drinks was purely professional. I wouldn’t do anything to break up your marriage.”
Josie nodded—an automatic response. But inside, she actually felt stupid. Of course his invitation was purely professional. They had been over for a long time. For the past seven years, their relationship remained purely professional. The steam started rising only recently, because Scott was leaving Juniper Elementary. Belatedly, she realized maybe there was no steam. She probably just imagined he was looking at her in that sexual way.
On-the-spot, her ego stinging, she spit out a bitchy response.
“You know, Scott, I want to believe you. And I would believe you if you weren’t so … so … slick. Everything is part of your master plan. You wouldn’t have asked me for drinks if you didn’t plan on getting something out of it.” Then, just for emphasis, she added, “So there.”
As she strode out of Scott’s office, she pretended not to notice Cheryl and Tammy, their identical expressions of surprise, mouths hanging open and eyes following her quick exit.
How could I have been so stupid? Of course he meant the invitation in a professional way. He doesn’t even think of me that way anymore.
Even while her less-than-sane inner voice chastised her for her foolish behavior, Josie’s practical voice piped up with its own message: He’s lying. He just had to cover his tracks. He thought you’d come running into his arms now that he’s leaving Juniper Elementary, and he’s probably just as embarrassed as you are.
Which one was the truth?
Josie couldn’t be sure. But she did know she was proud of herself for standing her ground and choosing her marriage. She felt a whole lot lighter.
On the second-floor landing she saw Blair Upton standing in her classroom doorway, glaring at Josie. She almost certainly would mistake Josie’s carefree attitude for post-coital bliss, or something like it. But Josie didn’t care.
She pushed the niggling sadness out of her mind, and wrote the morning bell work on the board: Explain the term, “mixed feelings.” What does it mean? Have you ever experienced it?
***
Josie loved her weekly Rowdy’s Happy Hour with Summer and Delaney, but tonight she was dreading it. Really dreading it.
The girls would expect a report on her first marriage counseling appointment, and she didn’t want to reveal that Paul had a list of complaints as long as hers, if not longer.
But they were her best friends, they meant well and more importantly, she and Summer had absolutely dissolved any semblance of privacy when they stalked Delaney during The Dating Intervention.
She looked at her watch. Five minutes after four. Late, as usual.
Josie pushed open both of Rowdy’s swinging doors and paused in the doorway. She took a deep breath and gathered her confidence, then walked toward their table as if she wasn’t about to be forced to reveal every weakness she brought to her marriage.
“Whoa, you just looked like the cover of a romance novel, silhouetted in the doorway like that, the sun shining in behind your sexy body,” Summer said as Josie slid onto her barstool. “I’m starting to look like a puff pastry over here and there you are, as curvy and hot as ever.”
“Oh, Summer. You’re the most beautiful pregnant lady we know,” Delaney said.
Glad for the distraction, Josie beamed at both of them.
“How are you feeling, anyway? You are starting to show a little. It’s so cute.”
“I still feel horrible,” Summer said. “These olives help. Thinking about it doesn’t, though, so let’s talk about something else.”
Shit. Let’s not talk about me.
“Delaney, has Jake proposed yet?” Josie asked.
“Josie, we’ve only been dating for, like, a few months. Of course he hasn’t proposed yet. I haven’t even seen his feet yet.”
“What are you talking about?” Josie said. “And of course you’ve seen his feet by now. Right?”
“Remember your rubric during The Dating Intervention? ‘Have you seen his feet?’ was one of your questions. ‘It’s an intimacy thing,’ you guys said. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” Josie said. “But you’ve seen his feet, right?”
“Of course,” Delaney said. “I was kidding. But that doesn’t mean a proposal is imminent.”
“Yeah, it is,” Summer said. “Has he started talking about how many kids he wants? What kind of architecture he likes?”
“Ooh,” Josie said. “Or his favorite sexual positions? You know, like, kinky stuff?”
“You guys,” Delaney said. She dipped her head.
“She’s blushing!” Josie said, possibly a little overzealous with relief that they were talking about Delaney and not her own marriage. “He’s kinky!”
Summer laughed, but only for a second. Only for long en
ough for Delaney to switch gears.
“So, Josie. How was your appointment with Dr. Strasser?” she said.
Shit. Two can play at this game, I guess. I shouldn’t have gotten so excited about Jake and his sexual positions.
Josie sighed. “We don’t have to talk about it, do we?”
Summer, reading her reluctance correctly, as always, reached out and took her hand. “What happened?”
Josie felt her eyes fill. She blinked to clear them and a tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away, impatient.
“What happened?” Delaney repeated.
“I guess I should have expected it,” Josie said. “I thought I was the only one who was unhappy. But it turns out, Paul has his own complaints, too. Plenty of them.”
She ticked Paul’s grievances off on her fingers: she was cold, she constantly criticized him, she hated his job, she no longer supported his career. She was a hypocrite who valued her career as much as he did his, if not more.
“I mean,” Josie said, “Is it all true? I’ve always kind of blamed him for the distance between us, but to hear him tell it, I’m just as bad. Worse.”
Delaney and Summer looked at each other and Summer stirred her olives with her pointer finger.
“What? What, you guys?”
Summer licked her finger and looked at the top of the table as if she were studying it for a calculus exam. Delaney elbowed her.
“Josie,” Summer said, scratching at the table with her thumbnail. “You have been a bit, well, a bit …”
“A bit grumpy lately,” Delaney said. “You always seem unhappy.”
“And no offense,” Summer said. “But I’m sure it’s not that fun for Paul to be around you. He might have a point.”
Josie’s mom had always said, “Happy wife, happy life,” as if that one statement could solve all marriage problems and prevent any new ones from developing.
What resulted from an unhappy wife, though? And was she really unhappy? She hadn’t thought so, but maybe Paul did. And if so, then he was probably equally unhappy.
