Chasing Someday

by Lindzee Armstrong

  “You’re really going to do the program?”

  “Yes, and I’m even excited about it.”

  Stacey narrowed her eyes. “Are you and Gary having marriage problems?”

  How on earth did Stacey come to that conclusion? “Of course not. Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m serious! You don’t even care that you’re going to have, like, a bazillion less hours a week with him.”

  Why did she get stuck with Stacey as a co-worker? Only Christina’s sense of professionalism kept her from rolling her eyes. “The program’s not going to take up that much time.”

  Stacey snorted. “That’s what they tell you now. But soon you won’t have a second to spend with Gary. What did he say when you told him?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  “Wait. You didn’t even ask him if it was okay?”

  “He’s not home much, so he’s not going to care.” The lie burned on the way out.

  Stacey stood, clasping her hands dramatically. “I’ll pray for you guys. You make such a great couple. I don’t want you to break up.”

  “Good, because we’re not.” Could she be any more dramatic? Gary wouldn’t be thrilled. But he wouldn’t leave Christina over it, either. Whatever their problems, they were committed.

  Stacey ignored Christina, heading toward the door. “I’ve got to pick up some worksheets from the copy center. I’ll see you at lunch.” The door clicked shut behind her.

  Christina sighed loudly. Stacey was so obnoxious.

  Christina decided to eat lunch in her classroom to avoid Stacey. Besides, she needed to call Kyra. The book drive had ended over the weekend, and Christina needed to collect the books so she and Megan could sort them tomorrow after school. Christina had wondered initially if Megan’s interest was merely polite, but Megan had caught her at church on Sunday and insisted on helping.

  Christina quickly ate her turkey and avocado sandwich on pita bread, then pulled out her phone and found Kyra’s number in the contacts. It rang and rang. Christina clicked her nails on the desk, debating whether she should leave a message or call back later.

  “Hello?” The voice sounded small and childish.

  Christina stopped drumming her fingers. “Hi. Is your mom there?”

  “Yeah.” A long pause.

  “Is this Sophie?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Hi, Sophie. My name is Mrs. Vincent. We go to church together. Do you know who I am?”

  “Nope.”

  Six-year-olds Christina could handle without a problem. But Sophie was only half that age, and Christina wasn’t sure what to do now. “Oh. Well, can I talk to your mommy?”

  “She’s crying again.”

  “Crying?” Christina frowned, trying to figure out what to say next.

  “The baby in her tummy went to live with God.”

  “Oh.” Shock was quickly replaced by an ache in Christina’s heart. She’d had no idea.

  There was a rustling, and Christina heard an adult voice—obviously Kyra’s—mutter something. “Hello?” Definitely Kyra.

  “Hi, Kyra. Sorry to bother you. This is Christina Vincent, from church.”

  “Oh. Hi.”

  Christina swallowed. Clearly Kyra hadn’t wanted to answer the phone, and didn’t want to talk to anyone. Should Christina bring up the miscarriage or not? She vacillated back and forth before deciding it would be more awkward to avoid the topic now and then bring it up the next time they spoke. “Sophie said you had a miscarriage. I am so sorry.”

  Christina heard a quiet sniff. “Thank you.”

  “I was calling about the book drive, but obviously that can wait. Sorry to bother you. I had no idea.”

  “Oh yeah,” Kyra said distantly. “I’ve got quite a few boxes downstairs.”

  “Megan Burke—she just moved into the neighborhood, maybe you’ve seen her at church?—was going to help me sort them tomorrow. But I can pick them up another time.”

  “No,” Kyra said quickly. “No. Come by tomorrow and get the books.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Does four o’clock work for you?”

  Christina agreed that it did, and they ended the call. If a phone conversation was that uncomfortable, Christina dreaded tomorrow’s visit, even if it was just a quick pickup. She dialed Megan’s number next. It only rang once before being picked up.

  “Hi, Megan,” Christina said.

  “Hey. I’m glad you called.”

  Christina couldn’t help but smile. Megan genuinely sounded pleased. “I spoke with Kyra. We can pick up the books tomorrow at four o’clock. Does that fit your schedule? If not, I can pick them up alone.”

  “No, that’s fine. I’m showing houses in the morning, but my afternoon’s free.” Christina heard what sounded like a chair squeaking. “Man, I’ve been looking at listings all morning and my back’s killing me. There are so many more options here than in Logan. How’s your day going?”

  Christina blinked. She had expected to relay the information about their appointment, then hang up. Megan seemed relaxed, however, and willing to continue the conversation. “It’s going well,” Christina said. Usually she would’ve left it at that, but Megan seemed interested, and Christina wanted to be friends. “I found out I’ll be co-chairing an after-school program for the rest of the year. It’s for at-risk children.”

  “Wow, that’s awesome.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t seem excited about it.”

  Christina paused. She wasn’t used to people being so straightforward. “I’m excited.”

  “But?”

  Christina surprised herself by opening up. “I haven’t told Gary yet, and I don’t think he’ll be thrilled.”

  Megan laughed. “Cook him something amazing, then tell him while his mouth’s full. He’ll be so busy eating he won’t even care. Oh, there’s my other line. Sorry, I’ve got to go. Let’s meet outside our houses at five minutes to four tomorrow, and we can drive over to Kyra’s together.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Christina hung up the phone. Maybe Megan had the right idea. Christina pulled out a piece of paper and made a shopping list. It was time to make nice.

  If Christina wanted to convince Gary the program was a good idea, she had to apologize for their fight. They should’ve apologized days ago. The problem was that neither of them were very good at saying “I’m sorry” or admitting when they were wrong.

  Megan’s suggestion had given Christina an idea. Even if she wasn’t great at apologizing, she was a great cook. She called Gary to verify he’d be home by seven, then stopped by the grocery store on the way home from work, and raced to start dinner—grilled halibut on a bed of rice pilaf, Gary’s favorite.

  “What’s this?” Gary asked when he walked in the door at 7:05. Christina had the table set with their wedding china. Two candles in crystal candlesticks glowed in the middle of the table.

  “An ‘I’m sorry’ dinner.” Christina took his coat and hung it up in the closet. Gary sat at the table, and she joined him. “I know I’ve been difficult the last two weeks.”

  Gary reached across the table and took her hand. Once one of them took the initiative, the rest was easy. “We’re both to blame. I’m sorry too.” They said a prayer and loaded up their plates. “This is delicious,” Gary said around a bite of halibut.

  “Thanks.” Christina had spent hours in the kitchen perfecting this meal during the early days of their marriage. “How was your day?”

  “Productive. What about yours?”

  If she didn’t mention the program now, it would seem like she was hiding something. “Interesting. Principal Gardner asked me to co-chair an after-school program for at-risk students. It’d only be an extra three hours a week, and I’d get a couple hundred more a month until the end of the school year.” The money wasn’t likely to sway Gary’s opinion, especially when they didn’t need it, but it was worth a shot.

  Gary frowned, wiping at his mouth with a
napkin. “Is that a good idea? We barely see each other as it is. I don’t like the idea of your job taking time away from us.”

  Christina’s mouth dropped open. She had known he wouldn’t like the idea, but how hypocritical could he be? She was taking the job because he was always at his. “I already told Principal Gardner I’d do it.”

  Gary paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Without consulting me?”

  She shrugged. “He needed an answer quickly.” A half lie.

  Gary set his fork down, clenching his jaw. “Are you doing this because you’re mad about the infertility thing?”

  “What? No.” It was Christina’s turn to set down her fork. “I thought you’d be happy I’d have something to fill my free time. It’s not like you’re home in the afternoons. It won’t interfere with our time together, I promise.”

  “Ever since you brought up infertility, you’ve been shutting me out. You’re still mad because I don’t want to see a doctor.”

  Christina gritted her teeth. “This has nothing to do with that. If anything, it might distract me.” Another lie, but she’d dangle the bait just the same.

  “It wouldn’t.”

  “It’s a good opportunity to help students. We can visit my parents in France this summer with the extra money.” Maybe he would come with her this year, if only for a few days.

  “If you want to go to France, we’ll work something out. Money isn’t stopping us.”

  Christina took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “This isn’t only about France. I get lonely sitting at home while you’re off saving the world one court case at a time.”

  “You know I have to work harder than anyone else in the firm to prove myself.”

  “You choose to work harder than anyone else.”

  His voice was controlled, but angry. “I refuse to let people think I’m only there because I’m a partner’s son. I have to prove myself. And now, when I’m working sixty-hour weeks, you go and do this. Are you trying to sabotage our relationship?”

  “I can’t believe you asked that.” Christina picked up her fork and stabbed at her halibut. “I didn’t do this to hurt you. It sounded like an interesting career opportunity.” An opportunity to feel needed. To feel important.

  “I’m sorry I’m not ready to do the infertility stuff. I’m trying to be okay with it. But right now I’m not.”

  He was relentless. Christina regretted bringing this up. He never would have found out about the program if she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “This has nothing to do with wanting a baby,” Christina said.

  “I’d rather you don’t do the program. Tell Principal Gardner you changed your mind. It’ll end up taking time away from our relationship.”

  Christina pushed back her chair, standing. “What relationship? You’re never home, and even when you are, your head is still at the office. I’m lonely. I thought this would fill some of the empty hours. Stop making this about you.” Christina stomped out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

  A few seconds later the door flew open. Gary stood in the doorway, his chest heaving. Christina stared in shock. Usually he left her alone when she stormed off.

  “We are not going to be this couple,” Gary said. “I am sick and tired of getting in fights and never solving our problems.”

  “You want to solve a problem? Fine. Let’s talk about why you really don’t want me to do the program. You’re worried what your parents will think. What the people at the country club will think. This is all about you.”

  Gary’s jaw clenched. “I support my family, Christina.”

  “Support is more than bringing home a paycheck. I don’t need your money.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m trying to build a career. To prove myself. And you’re angry about that? I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”

  Christina stared at him, then hung her head and cried. Gary lurched forward, probably in surprise. “Who are we?” she asked. “What happened to us?”

  Strong arms wrapped around her, tight and comforting. She stood stiff, surprised, then sank against him. For a moment the man she fell in love with was there, holding her. “I don’t know,” Gary said.

  “I really didn’t think you’d be this upset. If you’re that concerned, I won’t do the program. But you have to come home more. I need you, Gar.” Christina knew she was losing the fight, and when it came right down to it, the program wasn’t worth their marriage. If he was willing to be home more, to work on them, she wouldn’t even care.

  “I don’t want people to think we’re having financial troubles. If you take on extra hours at work, it’ll look like I can’t provide for you.”

  “But I know that’s not true, and you know that’s not true.”

  “I know. But it still bothers me. You know how my parents are. Please, let’s go back to dinner. You worked really hard, and it doesn’t seem fair to let it go to waste.”

  Christina nodded, letting him take her hand and lead her to the dining room. All was silent for a few minutes as they ate.

  “I think you should do the program,” Gary said. “You love your students, and you’ll be great at it.”

  Christina looked down at her plate. He had heard her offer, and had chosen to risk his image over spending time with her. He’d rather be at work.

  “And you’re right,” Gary continued. Her head jerked up. “I do spend too much time at the office. I’ll try to cut back, be home at six like I’m supposed to be.”

  Christina’s heart lifted. Did she dare hope? “And not bring work home with you?”

  He flinched. “You know I can’t promise that. But I’ll try and minimize it.” His eyes caught hers across the candlelight. “I want to work on us. I don’t want our marriage to fall apart, and lately I feel like it is.”

  “I don’t want that, either. I’ll tell Principal Gardner I can’t do the program if it bothers you that much. Or you can tell people I’m doing it as charity work.”

  Almost immediately, Gary shook his head. “No, you should do it. You’re right. You’ll still be home before me, and it’s something you’ll enjoy. It doesn’t matter what other people think.”

  And there he was—the man she’d married. Tears pricked her eyes. They would be okay. “I love you, Gar. I don’t want us to float by on ‘okay’ anymore.”

  “Me either.”

  The rest of dinner was quiet and a little uncomfortable, but she knew they were both trying. All their problems weren’t solved, but it was a start. They were finally heading in the right direction.

  In the three years Kyra and David had lived in Riverton, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d had visitors, especially from church. So why did they have to come pick up the books now, after Sophie spilled the beans? Kyra wasn’t in the mood for chitchat and sympathetic smiles. She sighed. She should’ve accepted Christina’s offer to wait and had David drop the books off sometime this weekend. Too late now.

  “Why are they coming over?” Sophie asked, scrunching up her face as she helped Kyra straighten the living room.

  “To pick up the books people have been bringing over. Mrs. Vincent is a teacher, and she’s going to take them to her school.”

  “That sounds boring.”

  The doorbell rang. Kyra tossed a throw pillow on the couch. “You can play upstairs. It won’t take long.”

  Sophie followed Kyra to the front door. “I want you to play with me.”

  “I can’t right now. We’ll play when they leave.” Kyra opened the door, forcing a smile. “Hi.” She recognized Christina Vincent, with her knee-length pencil skirt and curly red-orange hair pulled back in a French twist. The other woman could only be Megan Burke. She had a round face and full figure without seeming overweight. Blonde curls hung loosely halfway down her back. She wore a bohemian style skirt in a brilliant turquoise that flowed to the ground, and bracelets jangled on her wrist.

  She held out a hand. “Hi, Kyra. I’m Megan. I
t’s nice to meet you.”

  Kyra shook her hand, then motioned the two women inside. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

  “We’re so sorry about the miscarriage,” Megan said.

  Kyra wished they hadn’t brought it up. As if either of these women had any idea what Kyra was going through.

  “Thank you. Please, come in.” Kyra motioned to the living room. “The books are right in there. We managed to collect eight boxes worth.”

  “That’s fantastic,” Christina said. “Thank you so much. It would’ve been hard for me to collect everything without being home during the day. I don’t think we would’ve had as many donations if people had to drop it at the school.”

  Sophie scampered over to Megan. “Are those cookies?” She pointed to the plate Megan held, wrapped in plastic.

  “They’re the best kind of cookies in the whole world—double chocolate chip.” Megan glanced at Kyra. “I know it doesn’t fix things, but chocolate always helps.”

  “Can I have one?” Sophie asked.

  “Well, I brought them for your mom, so only if she says so.”

  Sophie looked at Kyra with big, pleading eyes, and Kyra nodded. Megan smiled, pulled one from the plate, and handed it to Sophie.

  “Thank you,” Sophie said. She took a bite. “Mmmm.”

  “Can you take the plate into the kitchen for me, Soph? Then go play in your playroom,” Kyra said.

  “Okay.” Sophie shoved the whole cookie in her mouth, then took the plate from Megan and scampered off.

  “Thank you, Megan. You didn’t need to do that,” Kyra said.

  “It’s the least I could do.” Megan’s eyes were soft and full of compassion. “How are you doing?”

  A stab to the chest. Kyra chose to answer the question in regards to her physical health. “It was an early miscarriage. The recovery hasn’t been too bad, and I’m feeling better.”

  “I’m glad,” Christina said.

  But Megan shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. How are you doing emotionally? I don’t think it hurts any less because it was early.”