Better Than This

by Cathy Zane

  The maître d’ nodded. “We had the pleasure of having your parents in last night,” he said to Robert.

  Robert smiled and nodded knowingly. “For their standing Thursday night date.”

  “Yes, sir,” the maître d’ said, bowing slightly. As he and the waiter turned to leave, his eyes met Sarah’s, and she caught a slight smirk on his face. She smiled slightly. They had their own little inside joke—their shared opinion that you could say a lot of things about Robert’s parents, but “a pleasure” wasn’t one of them. Entitled, snobbish, arrogant? Yes. But a pleasure, definitely not.

  Sarah watched Robert quietly read his menu, wondering what was going through his mind and chastising herself for what was running through hers. You’re being a bitch again. What is wrong with you tonight? Do you want to blow it yet again? This is your night. You’re in an exclusive restaurant with your handsome, charming husband. Get a grip. You need a major attitude adjustment. Now!

  She tried to focus and read the menu, but her stomach was churning. Nothing looked appetizing to her. The waiter returned with the wine and poured a small amount in Robert’s glass. Robert swirled, smelled, and tasted the wine before nodding to the waiter, who returned the nod and poured them each a glass.

  Sarah didn’t really like red wine; she would have preferred a beer. But she would never say that to Robert. She remembered back to their first dinner out together. He had actually said that no woman of his would ever drink beer. So she had learned to tolerate wine. And she saved her beer drinking for Maggie at the Rusty Hub on Fridays after school. It was one of those secrets married couples have. It seemed innocuous enough to her.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes to go over our specials for this evening,” the waiter said when he’d finished pouring the wine.

  As he left the table, Robert raised his wine glass. “Happy birthday to my beautiful wife,” he said with a warm, relaxed smile on his face. He tapped the rim of Sarah’s glass and returned to perusing his menu as he sipped the wine.

  Sarah studied him, trying to see him as others might in his obviously tailored and expensive suit, exuding power and having dinner with his much younger wife. He was definitely charismatic. She’d give him that. And handsome and sexy. She knew she was the envy of many women. She was sure there were women in the restaurant tonight, and probably men as well, who had noticed them. She lifted her wine glass and took a large chug, checking to be sure Robert wasn’t watching. She knew he wouldn’t approve. Wine was to be sipped and savored. But she still felt shaky from this afternoon and she was angry at Robert about Lizzy.

  She thought the alcohol would take the edge off her anger and help her keep her mouth shut, but instead it seemed to weaken her resolve. The words rose up in her throat like a dormant volcano finally being released. She couldn’t hold them back.

  “Lizzy really wanted to talk to you tonight.”

  “I’m sorry. I was beat,” Robert said without looking up from his menu.

  “It’s hard for her having you gone so much.” Sarah knew she was pressing it.

  “Sarah, please,” he said, still focused on his menu. “Not tonight.”

  He’s warning you, Sarah. Loud and clear. Stop now. Don’t do this. You know you will just piss him off. And that always gets ugly. Just keep your mouth shut. But she couldn’t stop the flood of emotion coursing through her. She pushed the voice in her head aside. “But she really misses you.”

  Robert looked up from his menu, scowling, his voice low and stern. “How many times do we have to have this conversation? You knew my priorities when you decided to keep the pregnancy. I didn’t want kids. I agreed because you wanted it so badly.”

  “It? That’s our daughter you’re talking about!” Sarah was aware that her voice had risen slightly.

  Robert shot her a harsh look and then glanced around to see if anyone was looking their way. “Stop it.” He leaned in toward her, his voice low and terse. “You will not embarrass me here. You know I adore Lizzy, but I could never be a regular dad. I keep you both very comfortable and I don’t feel like you appreciate that very much. I’m tired of you being so selfish and childish.”

  Sarah’s stomach roiled and her chest tightened; she felt nauseous and it was hard to breathe. Her mind raced desperately as she struggled to think clearly. She felt spacey and scared. Something was wrong. Maybe it was the wine. Why did you chug that on an empty stomach? You’re messing this up. You’re making Robert mad. Focus. Concentrate. Say something. You need to fix this.

  “You’re right,” she managed to say over the lump in her throat. “It is selfish of me, but I just miss you and I get really lonely sometimes.” Tears welled up in her eyes and one spilled down her cheek.

  “I know.” Robert reached across the table and took her hand. “All the more reason not to waste the time we do have together fighting.”

  Sarah nodded and dried her eyes with her napkin.

  Robert pulled his hand back and returned to his menu. “So, let’s find you something wonderful to eat. I know you like the salmon here.”

  Sarah tried to take a breath, but her chest still wasn’t cooperating. She just nodded again, unable to speak and knowing that she wouldn’t tell Robert that she didn’t really want the salmon tonight anyway.

  Sarah was diligent the rest of the meal about keeping the focus on Robert. She asked about work, and got him to talk about his family. She’d learned that when Robert closed a conversation, she needed to let it go unless she wanted things to go south. His temper had gotten worse with each year of their marriage. Much of the time she was fairly successful at managing his moods; she’d learned how to act and what to say to keep him happy. She looked at him across the table as he studied the bill and remembered once hearing a woman call it her “wifely duty” to please and appease her husband. Sarah wasn’t sure she was cut out for the wife thing. She certainly didn’t feel very good at it.

  Robert paid the bill with cash and looked up at her, smiling. “Ready?”

  Sarah nodded, folded her napkin, and laid it on the table as Robert slid out of the booth and came around to help her up. She still felt a little woozy from the wine so she stood up slowly, trying to steady herself. Robert didn’t seem to notice; he was busy smiling and waving to an acquaintance across the room. He motioned to Sarah to walk ahead of him and she gingerly made her way through the crowded tables, trying to avoid bumping into one of the other customers. As she passed a table of two casually but nicely dressed young men, one of them met her eyes.

  “Sarah?”

  Sarah hesitated briefly before recognizing him. Her face lit up. “Matt! I can’t believe it. How are you?”

  “I’m well,” he said, smiling broadly. “How amazing to run into you!”

  “I know. It’s been so long . . .”

  “It has. You look wonderful . . .”

  Robert stepped up and authoritatively reached out his hand to Matt. “I’m Sarah’s husband, Robert.”

  “Oh! I’m so sorry, how rude of me.” Sarah felt her face flush. “Robert, this is Matt. Matt Herringer.”

  Matt shook Robert’s hand. “Good to meet you, Robert.”

  “My pleasure,” Robert said, his voice curt.

  Matt motioned to his dinner partner who was still seated. “This is my friend, Nate Stevenson.”

  Nate stood up and nodded. “Nice to meet you both.”

  Sarah and Robert both replied simultaneously, “You too.”

  Sarah turned back to Matt, smiling. “Are you back in Seattle?”

  Matt shook his head. “No, I’m just in for a couple of days from Boston. I did my residency there and never left. How about you? Are you busy writing?”

  “Not really . . .” Sarah hesitated, wondering how to explain having given up something that was so important to her when she and Matt were together. He had been her biggest champion, encouraging her to write even when she doubted herself and her abilities.

  “No?” Matt said. “I thought you would have finishe
d a couple of books by now! Those short stories you published in college were wonderful.”

  Robert pressed closer to Sarah and she felt her body tense. You know he’s not happy about this. You’re pressing your luck. You better cut this off now.

  Nate’s eyes opened wide. “Published? You’re a writer?”

  “She’s a great writer,” Matt said before Sarah could respond. “She won the top award in the English department at U-Dub.”

  Sarah blushed and glanced nervously at Robert. “It was no big deal—”

  “Sure it was,” Matt said. “I remember how excited you were.”

  “It was a long time ago,” Sarah said.

  Robert stepped closer and put his arm around her. “She teaches now.”

  “Really?” Matt asked. “High school?”

  Sarah nodded “Yes. Literature and composition.”

  “That’s great. So, you must enjoy it,” he said, more a statement than a question.

  “I do. It’s really rewarding—”

  “We should get going,” Robert said.

  “Oh, I hate to rush off. I’d love to catch up more,” Sarah said impulsively—and immediately regretted it. Why did you say that? He’s going to be pissed. You really need to learn to keep your mouth shut.

  Nate motioned to the table. “Why don’t you join us for a drink or some coffee?”

  Sarah smiled and glanced apprehensively at Robert, who shook his head. “No, we have to go. We really shouldn’t keep the babysitter waiting.”

  “Wow!” Matt said. “You have a—”

  “It was a pleasure meeting you both,” Robert said as he nodded to Matt and Nate and firmly steered Sarah away from the table.

  “Likewise,” Matt said.

  “Good meeting you!” Nate called after them.

  Sarah looked back over her shoulder and waved slightly. “It was great to see you, Matt!”

  Matt smiled and waved back. “You, too!”

  “What was that all about?” Robert said when they stepped outside. He was furious. He didn’t need her carrying on like that with an old boyfriend. And he hadn’t liked the way the conversation was going. The last thing he needed was someone encouraging Sarah’s fantasies about writing again. He thought he’d finally put that one to rest. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the sidewalk toward the valet.

  “Ouch!” Sarah winced. “That hurts.”

  “Don’t start with me. You know everyone in that restaurant knows me and my parents. How do you think it looks for me to stand around while you flirt with an old boyfriend?”

  Sarah tried to pull away, but Robert held firm. “Oh, for God’s sake! I wasn’t flirting.”

  “Keep your voice down,” he said as they neared the valet stand. He handed over the ticket.

  Sarah was quiet until the valet was out of earshot. “I was just catching up. It was good to see him. I haven’t talked to him in six, almost seven years.”

  “And you won’t start now. You were embarrassing in there.” She was so immature sometimes. And she definitely lacked certain social graces. His mother was right about that.

  The valet pulled to the curb in his new BMW sedan. He squeezed Sarah’s wrist again and said under his breath, “Just get in the car and shut up.” Then he let go of Sarah’s arm and moved around to the other side of the car. He smiled pleasantly as he tipped the valet.

  The valet nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  Robert returned the nod and stepped into the car. He was as frustrated with himself as he was with Sarah. Why was it so hard to control his anger with her? He knew it wasn’t right but he couldn’t help himself. She was so aggravating. He’d need to do something to smooth things over. And then just get the hell out of Dodge again.

  Sarah felt her stomach lurch as her anger dissolved into fear. She knew that tone of voice and where it could lead. Idiot! You’ve done it again. Why can’t you control your mouth? You’d better do something to try to calm him down. Her hand shook as she pulled her door closed. Robert silently put on his seatbelt and accelerated quickly into the street. Neither of them spoke for several miles.

  Sarah quietly and tentatively broke the silence, “Babe, I really wasn’t trying to flirt—”

  “Sarah, stop. I don’t want to hear your voice right now.”

  She wanted to kick herself. Her timing was off. She’d approached him too quickly. She coached herself to breathe, calm down, be quiet and patient. She stared out the passenger window, barely aware of the passing scenery. She sensed the tension in Robert’s body beginning to ease and her body relaxed ever so slightly.

  As they approached home, Robert broke the silence. “Sorry,” he said, his voice quiet.

  “It’s okay.” She was ambivalent as to whether to reach out to him or hold back for now. She was aware of the part of her that was angry and wanted to fight back but quickly pushed that away, thinking instead about all she’d done to trigger the fight. You shouldn’t have had so much wine. You know it makes it harder to keep your comments in check. And you shouldn’t have been so friendly with Matt. You should have cut him off when he started talking about the writing. You know Robert hates that. You should have talked more about Robert. That would have helped. Why didn’t you think of that? Why do you always fuck things like this up? She sat very still and continued to stare out the window.

  Robert spoke again as they pulled into the driveway. “Do I need to drive Amy home?”

  “I can take her if you want,” Sarah said, reaching for the car door.

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll just wait here. You can send her out.”

  “Okay.” She got out of the car and walked quickly to the front door, not wanting to make Robert wait any longer than necessary.

  Amy was curled up on the sofa with her feet tucked under her, reading a book. She shoved her book into her backpack and stood up to greet Sarah. Sarah felt a bit numb as they exchanged the appropriate pleasantries. She wanted to appear the good, concerned mother, but also wanted to get Amy out of the house and into the car as quickly as possible. When Amy walked outside, she closed the door behind her and watched as Robert backed the car out of the drive before collapsing on the sofa, feeling drained and depleted. She hated the way these arguments left her feeling. Each time they happened she felt a little worse, a little more like a failure. Why couldn’t she figure out how to do things differently? How did she always manage to screw things up? She’d been with Robert over six years now, but it only seemed to be getting worse.

  She closed her eyes and felt the tears well up. No, you can’t cry. You know that just makes things worse. And he’ll be back in a few minutes. She took a deep breath and tried to muster the energy to pull herself up. She straightened the pillows on the sofa, scanned the room, and went to check the kitchen. She cleaned up the leftover dishes and was just finishing wiping down the counters when she heard the front door open. She walked out to greet Robert, who took her arm to guide her upstairs without speaking. She knew he might be quiet like this for a while—days, even—so she quietly ascended the stairs and went into the closet to change. She stripped down to her panties and grabbed her nightshirt.

  When she came out of the closet she began to pull the nightshirt over her head. Robert had taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his slacks and was sitting on a chair to untie his shoes.

  “Leave it off,” he said.

  Sarah looked up at him and saw the look on his face. She knew that look. So, this is how it’s going to go.

  He motioned her over. “Come here so I can see you.”

  Sarah walked around the bed to stand in front of him.

  “I want to look at you.” He slipped her panties down and kissed her belly. His eyes and hands moved up to her breasts and he fondled them.

  Sarah still felt unsettled from their fight. She thought they should at least try to talk about what had happened. “Robert, I . . .”

  He put his fingers to her lips. “No talking.” He stood up and roughly kissed her mouth as he
rubbed her back and buttocks. Sarah knew better than to resist so she returned his kiss and began sliding his pants off. They continued kissing as Robert kicked off his pants and pulled off his boxers. He moved behind Sarah, caressing one breast while he moved his other hand down between her thighs and started rubbing. He guided her onto the bed and entered her from behind. Sarah winced and bit her lip at the pain. She knew it wouldn’t be long and she moaned a little for effect. Robert responded by thrusting harder. He quickly reached orgasm, and as soon as he did he rolled over, pushing her aside in the process, and lay on his back with his eyes closed.

  “That felt great,” he said when he caught his breath. Sarah rolled toward him and reached a hand out over his torso. He leaned over and kissed her head. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” He turned away from her and onto his side.

  Sarah touched his back. “I love you.”

  “Hmm . . . love you too.”

  Sarah knew he would be asleep within seconds. She lay still for a minute and then turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She reviewed the events of the evening, and suddenly she felt sad and confused. She thought about how mad Robert had been about her conversation with Matt. She rubbed her wrist. It still hurt, and she suspected she’d have a nice bruise the next day.

  She continued to stare at the ceiling as she tried to dissect the argument. He’d said she’d embarrassed him by flirting. Had she really been flirting? She didn’t think so. But she had been excited and happy to see Matt. And mad and frustrated with Robert. Maybe this was her fault.

  You were probably trying to make him jealous. You did it to get back at him. To take back control. You always do this. You always do something to piss him off. And this time you ruined your own birthday. Serves you right. Maybe this time you’ll finally learn something.

  Chapter 4

  Sarah struggled to make sense of her dream. She’d almost made it to the top of a hill, tired and out of breath, when she felt something jabbing her repeatedly in the shoulder. It took her a few fitful turns before she opened her eyes and realized that it was morning and Lizzy was standing next to her bed.