The Marriage Intervention

by Hilary Dartt

  She put her forehead on the steering wheel. An intense feeling of sadness, desolation actually, made her limbs go limp. Of course she was happy for Delaney and Jake. At the same time, Paul hadn’t come to the wedding. His absence was symbolic. Obviously so. The signal was clear: he didn’t want to be with her. Their marriage was over, officially. What could she do but go home?

  She started the car, took a deep breath, and began driving. As she made her way through Juniper, she forced herself to think reasonably. Of course Paul didn’t want to be with her. After spending the past several months being infatuated with another man, she’d kissed that man in the doorway of the home she shared with Paul. It wasn’t the steering wheel’s fault, but she whacked her palm against it anyway.

  I’ll just have to come to terms with this. My life as a single woman. With a dog. My personal ad can say something like, “Single woman with large puppy seeks new man after cheating on husband.”

  “Shit!” This time she hit the center console with her first.

  Delilah would be waiting at home for her, and would welcome her with all the squirming and licking Josie could stand. That was enough, wasn’t it?

  CHAPTER FORTY

  The police cruiser parked directly in front of the entrance to Josie’s house. Her heart leapt into her throat, pounding as if it wanted to come out her mouth. What now?

  She slammed the car into Park, jumped out and ran to the front door. Her hands were shaking so much she couldn’t unlock it. The knob turned and the door swung inward. The first thing she saw was a blue uniform. The belt, the gun, the handcuff pouch. The buttons traveling neatly up the torso. The badge. Finally, she saw the name plate: COMSTOCK. And then the face.

  “Paul!”

  Her vision was black at the edges, and blurry.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, gripping her upper arms.

  “I think I’m going to pass out.” As Josie had just envisioned, Delilah danced around her feet, her tail going a million miles per hour. Paul led Josie to the couch, where he sat her down and put her head between her knees. “Why are you driving that patrol car? When I saw it, I had, like, déjà vu from that time you were in an accident. I thought they were coming to tell me you’d been shot or killed. It didn’t even register that they weren’t in the car. I thought you were dead. I feel like I’m seeing your ghost.”

  “You’re pale,” he said, rubbing her back.

  “You’re not, for a ghost.”

  Delilah was apparently delighted to have Josie’s face at her level, and she licked her cheeks over and over, darting closer and farther away. Josie laughed and sat up, wiping her face.

  She’d normally demand, “What are you doing here?” but she caught herself and said instead, “I wasn’t expecting you. Why are you in uniform?”

  Now she took a moment to look at him, to really look at him. “You look horrible,” she said before he could answer.

  He barked out a laugh.

  “I’m really sorry I missed Delaney’s wedding,” he began.

  Whether she didn’t want to hear his excuse or she felt irrationally compelled to tell him how his absence affected her, she interrupted him even though she could tell he had more to say. “I thought you not coming meant you didn’t want to be married anymore. I thought it was your final decision.”

  Paul’s body deflated next to hers.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said again. “That’s not the case at all. You wouldn’t believe what happened today.”

  “Try me.”

  “My shift was nearly over—”

  “Wait. Your shift? Why do you have a shift?” The realization dawned on her. “You went back on patrol?”

  He nodded. “I knew it would be better for our marriage.”

  Josie’s mouth dropped open.

  “Anyway,” he said, impatient to finish his story, “I was heading home to change. To get ready for the wedding. Just as I turned off the highway, I get this call from dispatch, about a head-on collision on Willow Branch Road. I’m the closest, so I say I’ll take it.”

  Josie nodded. That’s just what good cops did. Delilah turned in several circles, and flopped down onto the floor, half her body on one of Josie’s feet and the other half on one of Paul’s.

  By the time he arrived, Paul explained, it was too late. A man coming off a double shift at the cement plant fell asleep at the wheel and crossed the center line. His truck hit a sedan head-on, immediately killing both occupants—a husband and wife, both in their eighties.

  To Josie’s surprise, Paul started to sob. “I don’t even know how long they were married, but in my mind they were married for fifty years. They were long-time sweethearts. They ate Chinese takeout every Valentine’s Day, they had three boys and two girls and seven grandchildren. They bought an RV when they retired, and now drive around the country every summer.”

  Josie closed her mouth. “Why are you crying?”

  “Remember when I got into that car accident a while back, and I had this moment of clarity?”

  Of course I remember.

  She nodded. A sense of foreboding took root. At that time, Paul’s accident made him realize he was unhappy and wanted to move out. Oh, no. Had the car accident made that clarity even more clear? It took everything she had to stop herself from covering her ears. Instead, she flopped back on the couch. It was over. But then Paul said something that surprised her. Something romantic.

  “I want that with you, Josie. I love you. I want to be married for fifty years. I want to eat pizza every anniversary. I want to take you all over the country in an RV. I want to have kids. Grandkids.”

  Josie sat up again and put a hand on his leg. He continued, “Shit, I want to pick up after your messy ass for the next fifty years. I would really like to move back in. I would really like to have a go at the next five decades. Are you okay with that?”

  “Okay?” she said. She launched herself into his arms, startling Delilah, who jumped up onto the couch.

  “I would really love that,” she said. “Can we start now?”

  “I was hoping we could,” Paul said, kissing her. “And I know just how to celebrate a new beginning.”

  EPILOGUE

  Race day dawned at a brisk fifty-two degrees. Josie stood at the start line. She rubbed her hands together and did jumping jacks to keep herself warm. Summer and Delaney stood on the other side of the fence shivering and clutching paper cups of hot herbal tea.

  “Remember,” Delaney said. “Wine on the other side.”

  “And chocolate,” Summer said. “Wine and chocolate. It’ll be worth every mile.”

  The announcer began the one-minute countdown and Josie handed her sweatshirt over the fence to Summer. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach.

  “You can do this,” Delaney said. “You’ve been practicing.”

  Josie’s hands shook as she put her earphones in.

  “Thirty more seconds, runners!” the announcer called.

  Next to her, a group of girls cheered. Crazy women.

  A couple more quad stretches, some arm circles, and Josie heard, “Five, four, three, two, one.”

  The starting gun sounded. Delaney and Summer gave Josie high-fives. She began to run.

  For the first mile, she thought she might die. But then she settled into a rhythm, concentrating on her music. She surprised herself by waving to some of the spectators, who held signs (Run Now, Wine Later and You said run? I thought you said rum!) and hollered kudos as the runners passed.

  At mile three, Josie surprised herself by picking up the pace—just slightly. The second half of the race didn’t exactly fly by, but Josie felt strong as she rounded the final curve and entered the straightaway.

  And there, standing along the fence just a few yards in front the finish line, stood Paul. He saw Josie before she saw him, and when he called her name, her eyes locked in on him. He raised his arm raised in a cheer, and she raised hers, too, as she finished the race. A volunteer handed her a medal and a water bottle, a
nd she fought back tears as she looked for her husband.

  Paul jogged over to meet her. He took her medal from her and put it over her head.

  “Congratulations, baby,” he said. “I’m so proud of you.”

  As she enjoyed the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, she let the tears fall. Finishing the race felt like so much more than the completion of six-point-two miles. It felt like a new beginning. Josie looked over Paul’s shoulder and saw her two best friends approaching.

  Before she knew it, she was wrapped in a giant group hug, surrounded by her favorite people in the world. And she was happy.

  Thank you for reading!

  If you enjoyed “The Marriage Intervention,” check out my Amazon author page to buy or pre-order the other two books in The Intervention Series: Delaney’s story, “The Dating Intervention,” and Summer’s story, “The Motherhood Intervention.”

  “The Dating Intervention”

  Delaney Collins’s intuition is always right on. The trouble is, she never listens to it, especially when it comes to men. So when her fail-proof dating system fails completely, Delaney’s best friends, Summer and Josie, stage The Dating Intervention, in which they take complete control of her dating life. Although she struggles to follow the rules they set out for her, her intuition tells her that if she doesn’t, she may end up alone and forever lonely in a sea of men with stained neckties and cumbersome baggage.

  “The Motherhood Intervention”

  With her fifth child on the way and her son’s heart surgery just around the corner, Summer Gray is already approaching her breaking point. Then her estranged mother shows up on her doorstep after fifteen years, claiming to want to rebuild their relationship. While struggling to forgive her mother for years of alcohol induced neglect, Summer daydreams of contracting a semi-serious illness or suffering nearly-life-threatening injuries so she can get a hospital stay-cation. Her friends Delaney and Josie stage The Motherhood Intervention, hoping to help Summer rediscover the life she loves and forgive her in the process.

  I would SO appreciate it if you’d take a few minutes to leave a review for “The Dating Intervention,” here.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Hilary Dartt is a freelance writer specializing in direct response copywriting and editorial projects. She grew up among redwoods and hippies in Santa Cruz, California and graduate from Cal State Long Beach with a degree in Creative Writing. She then moved to Arizona’s high desert where she worked as a journalist before launching her freelance career. She lives with her family and an assortment of pets, including her Weimaraner, Leia and a flock of chickens. “The Marriage Intervention” is the second installment in “The Intervention Series.” Learn more at www.hilarydartt.com

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  As always, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my husband for never complaining about my relationship with my computer as I write and edit and rewrite and re-edit early each morning and late each evening, and for not getting annoyed when I have to ask (countless times) what just happened on our favorite TV show because I’m working while watching.

  And a big thank you to the eagle-eyed people who read and helped with this story: Mom, Desirae and Vanessa, and to Donna Rich, proofreader extraordinaire.

  THE MARRIAGE INTERVENTION

  Hilary Dartt

  Copyright © 2015 Hilary Dartt

  All rights reserved.