Authors: Kathy Reinhart
Filled with uncertainties, I sat beside her and shared the view from her first story window. I hadn't known what to expect when I returned to her room, but when she looked up at me and smiled, I knew I was exactly where I should be.
Three
...I had the urge to kick, scream and throw things at him until it brought a smile to my face, but instead, I chose to lie quietly on the couch and re-think my life...
I cringed as his shoes ricocheted off the floor, hitting the wall with a thud.
“That was the most inconsiderate thing you’ve ever done, Meg. Was that a preview of what our marriage will be like?”
“Brian, I said I was sorry. It’s not like I did it deliberately, I just lost track of time.”
He felt as though my missing the Cosgrove’s dinner party had earned him the right to inflict verbal punishment. And being a lawyer, he found it necessary to argue until he convinced me of his point.
“You’re sorry? Christ Meg, is that the best you could come up with?”
I knew how thoughtless my actions had been, but somehow, I didn’t feel guilty. The smile I witnessed earlier was worth more than any dinner party, especially one where I would serve as no more than eye-candy.
Normally, I would share such a significant experience with Brian, but tonight I felt selfish. He hadn’t earned the right to know what only I knew. He wasn’t worthy of my secret.
He threw his pants to the floor as he flung his hands in the air and yelled, “Tell me Meg, what was worth making me look like a fool in front of the partners? Do you have any idea how ridiculous I felt when they asked me where you were and all I could say was, ‘I don’t know’.”
The day hadn’t started the best and it looked like it wasn’t going to end any better. I was beginning to realize that Brian stood in the middle of each bad period of my day.
“You know Brian, it isn’t all about you. Your plans, your golfing, your dinner party, your feelings… I have feelings too. What I was doing was important to me!” I paused. Lowering my voice, I began to offer an explanation, “Once we were finished picking out my gown…”
He cut me off abruptly. “We? It’s those friends of yours. When are you going to see that they hold you back, Meg? You’re a different person when you’re with them and that’s not a compliment.” Waving a finger at me, he added, “Consider it free advice.”
I felt a surge of heat cross my face. If I had toyed with the idea of buckling for the sake of avoiding an argument, his last remark had ensured that wouldn’t happen.
“Free advice?” I shook my head, unable to believe what I had heard. “What am I, Brian, a goddam client? And as far as my friends, they had nothing to do with my being late, but you didn’t give me a chance to tell you what I was doing, did you?”
“So you weren’t with your friends but that doesn’t change the fact you weren’t where you were supposed to be.”
Before he could shift the argument in his favor, I used his remark to my advantage.
“Supposed to be? I never said I would be there—you
told
me I would be there!” I took several steps away from him and ran my hands through my hair, giving thought to my next statement. “Listen Brian, I’m not going to spend the next few hours arguing about something that can’t be changed.”
For the first time since he arrived home, he spoke calmly. “Can you at least tell me what you were doing all day?”
I shook my head sadly. “Brian, we’ve been together for almost three years. What have I done almost every Saturday since the day we met?”
He scratched his head, aggravation flashed through his eyes. “For crissakes Meg, are we making a game of this? I’m not in the mood to play twenty questions tonight.”
I calmly said, “And I’m not in the mood to play anything else tonight,” as I grabbed a pillow and blanket, slamming the bedroom door on my way out. I had the urge to kick, scream and throw things at him until it brought a smile to my face, but instead, I chose to lie quietly on the couch and re-think my life.
~ ~ ~
It had been five days since the missed dinner party and it was fair to say that a scuffle hadn’t bruised our version of normality. Brian went about his daily business uninterrupted and I continued to run myself ragged with last minute wedding arrangements. As the wedding grew close, I began to feel like a one-man band, only less polished and much more fatigued by the challenge.
In between details and fittings, I worked and dealt with Mr. Anderson at the bank, leaving little time to get lost in my thoughts or even share them with anyone. I had been anxious to tell Gram my news about Aunt Karen, but felt I should do it in person.
Since Thursday nights were racquetball nights and Brian never missed anything he wanted to do, I decided to make a trip to Willoughby while he was away. Cory and Charlotte had agreed to accompany me. I always enjoyed their company, but when Gram didn’t believe what I had to tell her, I would appreciate the emotional support they would offer.
The girls and I met at Sal Latino’s for a quick meal before catching a cab to my grandparents. Through dinner I told them about my frazzled nerves, my aunt and even the fight with Brian, which seemed to please Charlotte.
“You’ll see it for yourself one day. I’m just hoping it’s before you marry him.”
I jumped to Brian’s defense, purely out of habit.
“You know, I may be stuck making all the plans but it must be hard for him, too. I mean, it has to be a weight on his shoulders, taking on the burden of a family and all.”
“You’re not exactly a whole family, Meg.” When she was finished picking the last onion from her salad, she continued, “Besides, I think the weight of his paycheck balances out the weight of his burden.” She looked up, giving me a discriminating eye.
I knew I had been defeated. “I’m not disagreeing, I’m just….”
“Making poor excuses for him?”
Letting out a stifled laugh, I answered, “Kind of looks that way, huh? Is making poor excuses supposed to be part of the new wife’s job?”
Cory offered an answer. “Only if he’s a poor excuse for a husband.”
After a round of laughter, we each settled into our own thoughts while we finished our meals. I glanced up, secretly hoping to see the handsome waiter from our last visit standing over our table.
As if reading my mind, Charlotte tapped Cory on the arm, and said, “Looks like Olive’s bored with Bluto. She’s got eyes for Popeye.”
They would have seen through any protest I could offer.
“Well, he was easy on the eyes.” Pushing my plate aside, I turned to Cory. “By the way, you never said, did you give him my name and number when he asked for it?”
She answered with one of her scheming smiles.
“Did you want me to?”
I knew I shouldn’t have asked her that question, but the words were on their way out before I could stop them. Not only was she not going to give me a straight answer, but now she and Charlotte each knew there was more interest than what was fitting for a woman who was about to give her hand in marriage.
Charlotte must have seen the concerned look on my face. She reached over and took hold of my hand, saying, “We’re only ruffling your feathers, Meg. There’s no harm in looking at the menu. As long as you don’t order anything, there’s no bill to pay and no mess to clean up.”
Cory sat silently. When the discussion turned serious, Cory usually let Charlotte do most of the talking. Although her good humor had a way of lifting the spirits of a fallen conversation, she was astute enough to know when Charlotte’s soothing sensibility was more appropriate.
“Meg, I know I give you a hard time about Brian… hell, as your best friend I consider it my moral obligation.” She paused briefly. “But the thing is, if he’s your choice, if you can be completely and utterly happy with him, then... Well, then I wish you all the happiness in the world.” As an afterthought, she said, “But I’m probably still going to give you a hard time. Old habits are hard to break.”
It was during moments like this, when I felt like laughing and crying at the same time, that their friendship meant the most to me.
I knew I could always turn to them.
I knew they would always be there.
And I knew their friendship kept me from losing my sanity in strong, emotional winds.
Trying to keep the mood from becoming too serious, I said, “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
When the cab stopped in front of the Victorian-style house I grew up in, we were greeted by my grandmother, two dogs, six chickens, one cat and a plateful of chocolate chip cookies.
Pointing at the chickens that threatened to peck at our shoes, I said, “Gram, where did these come from? I don’t remember seeing them last week.”
“Oh, just something your grandfather picked up at the auction the other day. I think he’s shooting for the farm animal version of Noah’s Arc. Damned animals… it costs more to feed them than it does to feed us.” Shoeing the chickens away, she added, “C’mon in, I’ve got the vodka on.”
Over girl talk and screwdrivers, Gram had established the facts that Cory was too thin, Charlotte had no business trying to raise a child by herself, Grandpa was going through some kind of male-menopausal syndrome and I looked too sullen for a woman ready to waltz down the isle.
“Tell me child, do you love him?” Gram asked in her familiar no-nonsense tone
It was going to take more than a simple statement to answer her simple question.
“Yes. Well, I did. I mean, I do… it’s complicated.” I felt myself becoming flustered.
“No, it’s very simple. You either love him—or you don’t.”
I stared at the lace tablecloth, tracing the outline of the flowers in front of me. She wasn’t going to let me off easily. I felt three pair of eyes burning into me, waiting for an answer.
“Things have just gotten… well, I’ve been so busy, with the wedding and all…” Tossing my head back in defeat, I sighed and asked loudly, “What the hell is love anyway? I mean, when I think of love, I think of handholding, smiling for no reason, can’t get enough kissing kind of happily-ever-after. If you don’t have those things, can you still be in love?”
Gram never looked up from the cookie she was picking apart. “It helps if the sex is good.”
Charlotte and I looked at each other, amazed and amused while Cory never skipped a beat. “I couldn’t agree more. I’ve been looking for not good, but great sex. Unfortunately, that eliminates, like… all the men I know. I guess I’ll never be happily married.”
Gram gave Cory a concerned look and then, in unison, three women looked at me, waiting for me to take my turn at kiss-and-tell.
I felt treasonous telling them about Brian’s lovemaking skills or lack of, depending on expectations.
Gram poured herself another drink, as she asked, “Tell me, during sex do you think about what needs tending tomorrow and before it’s over, do you lay there thinking, ‘Are you finished yet?’”
In that moment I realized, I wasn’t alone in my feelings. Other women had felt the same way.
“Not exactly, it’s more like, ‘Would you get off me already!’”
Looking at me with a disapproving glare, Gram said, “Until death do you part...” She hesitated. “...Child, that’s a hell of a long time to spend waiting for someone to get off you.”
My head was already feeling the sting of too many screwdrivers, when I said, “Gram, forget about Brian and my lousy sex life. I came here to tell you what happened when I stayed with Aunt Karen last Saturday.”
Concern filled her eyes. “What happened… is she alright?”
“Yes, of course, she’s alright.” Preparing myself for opposition, I said, “Gram, I know you won’t think it’s possible, but while I sat with her, she smiled at me.” Before she could tell me I was wrong, I began to defend my sanity. “I’m telling you Gram, it wasn’t an involuntary action. She knew exactly what she was doing… she looked me in the eyes and smiled at me.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence while Gram stared out in front of her, lost in thought.
“Gram, I wouldn’t tell you that if it weren’t true. I wouldn’t build up your hopes without good cause.”
She looked up at me, an unexpected sadness in her eyes.
“Oh child, I know you wouldn’t. I’ve always told you that you were wrong because I didn’t want you putting too much thought into it, but you’re right. My little girl talks in her own way, and if you pay real close attention, you may learn a thing or two.”
Seeing my grandmother’s depressed state, I found myself sorry for bringing up the subject of my aunt. I had been foolish to think my news would make her happy. Now, not only was Gram sad, but I was confused. What did she mean by learning a thing or two? I wondered.
Always a fresh breeze through air gone stale, Cory cheerfully asked, “Cybil, did I see your husband standing next to a cow when we pulled in earlier?”
Subtly wiping underneath each eye, Gram simply nodded.