Authors: Cynthia Ellingsen
The words pained Kristine. Ever since Kevin told her about the promotion, she had been filled with so much guilt, confusion and anger that she’d barely been able to speak to Kevin on the phone. Then, when he’d come home for his midweek break, he tried to touch her but she pushed him away. Kevin had looked at her, his eyes a mix of hurt and anger, then he’d gone back to his refuge in the basement.
“Besides,” Chloe said, snapping Kristine out of her reverie, “eating is the least of my worries.”
Pointedly, she eyed a couple across the way. They wandered through the china section, consulting with each other on practically every piece. The guy had his hand on the girl’s lower back and she giggled at everything he said.
“I mean, where do these people come from?” Chloe demanded. “I bet they’re not even a real couple. I bet the store hires them to coo over each other all day and make the rest of us feel like shit.”
Kristine looked at her in surprise. This attitude wasn’t like Chloe, not at all. She was normally very even-keeled. Hoping to get to the bottom of whatever was going on, Kristine said, “Tell me again why Geoff couldn’t come.”
“He had to go into the office.” Chloe shrugged. “He’s got a client in crisis.”
“But doesn’t he know he has a fiancée in crisis?” Kristine said, hoping for a smile.
It didn’t come. Instead, Chloe picked up a white plate and ran her finger over the silver-plated pattern on the edge. “Look, his job isn’t easy. Someone could have tried to commit suicide or something. Who knows? I don’t blame him for going.”
“Right . . .” Kristine said slowly. “But why isn’t he here now? Does a crisis last all day?”
Chloe set down the plate. “It’s an excuse. Obviously.” She sighed. “He’s already been married. He’s done the whole ‘pick out a china pattern’ thing. I totally get it.”
Kristine had always admired her daughter’s empathy. She had such great insight into what made people tick. On the other hand, there was such a thing as being too empathetic. If Geoff didn’t want to invest time in the wedding, he probably wouldn’t invest time in the marriage, either. “Chloe, I—”
“Do you like this?” Chloe picked up a teacup and regarded her with those gray eyes. “Cool, right?” The cup was white bone china, with a pink design cut through it. It dangled precariously from her fingers.
“It’s a little trendy,” she said, careful to keep her voice gentle. “You might want to look for something—”
“Am I making a mistake?” Chloe blurted out. Her face crumpled and immediately, tears began streaming down her face.
“Oh, honey.” Surprised, she pulled her daughter into her arms. “Honey, calm down. It’s going to be okay.”
A salesclerk made a move to approach them but Kristine gave a sharp shake of her head. The woman winked.
Ah, yes. The registration meltdown
,
her face seemed to say
.
Subtly, she pointed to an area just around the corner. There was a tiny nook with a couch, some magazines and no shoppers.
“Here.” Kristine guided her daughter to the couch. “Have a seat.”
Chloe flopped down, putting her head in her hands. Kristine’s heart ached. Chloe looked awful. Exhausted, stressed out. Maybe registration meltdowns were common, but this was obviously about more than just picking out pots and pans.
Silently, Kristine rubbed her back, wondering what to say. It had been so much easier to council Chloe when she was younger. The problems were so much simpler. A bad grade, a losing shot in the basketball game, a junior high crush . . . These pains were easy to fix with a walk around the block or a bowl of ice cream. But relationships were so much more complex.
“You okay?” she finally asked.
“No,” Chloe mumbled, sniffling. “I’m embarrassed. The only time someone should cry at Macy’s is when there’s a good sale.”
Kristine bit her lip. There it was, the Kevin humor shining through. He’d much rather crack a joke than deal with real emotions. Chloe had picked up the same defense.
“It’s okay to cry,” she said. “You know, you and June always make fun of me for it but it’s a heck of a lot better than trying to keep all of your emotions bottled up inside.”
Chloe nodded, letting out a huge sigh. “I know.”
“You have so much going on, honey.” Kristine touched her knee. “I don’t know how you handle it all.” She glanced at her daughter’s engagement ring. The diamond was cloudy and needed to be cleaned. “Does Geoff do things like this a lot?” she asked. “Make plans with you and break them?”
Chloe dabbed at her eyes with her sweatshirt. “No.”
Kristine reached into her purse and found a packet of tissues. “Here. Blow your nose.”
Chloe gave her a look. “Mother, I’m not five.” But she still blew her nose.
After a long moment, she wadded up the tissue. “Geoff doesn’t break plans at the last minute. It’s just . . .” She played with the tissue for a moment, then twisted it around her finger. “He’s always pushing Mary Beth on me. I understand. I mean, I’m going to be her
mother
.” Her lower lip trembled. “But it’s too much. When I’ve got school and planning this wedding and . . .”
“Have you talked with him about it?”
“Yes, kind of.” Chloe shook her head, glum. “But now that Mary Beth’s mother is back, he’s all worried that Mary Beth will get confused and he really wants to solidify my place in her life. Which is
great
,
you know? But it’s just too much to handle right now. I wish I could just take it at my own pace.”
The salesclerk poked her head around the corner. “How’s it going back here? Did you have any questions about china?”
“No.” Chloe chewed on her top lip. “Just a few questions about marriage.”
The salesclerk smiled. “I understand. We get that a lot around here.”
“And what’s the verdict?” Chloe gave a little laugh. When the salesclerk made a move to answer, Chloe shook her head. “I’m just kidding.”
The salesclerk didn’t laugh. She had to be in her late fifties, with light brown hair and a carefully made-up face. “You know, there were many years where I wondered why I ever got married. And then, why I bothered to stay the course.” She shrugged and her tailored pink blazer moved up and down with the motion. “But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that you don’t have to figure it all out right now. Life is long and love has a way of working itself out.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Chloe stared straight ahead, her hands gripping her knees.
“Well.” The salesclerk thought for a moment. “Then I guess you’ll leave the marriage with half a set of really nice china.”
Chloe looked at her in surprise.
“That is,” the salesclerk said with a smile, “if I do my job correctly.”
That made Chloe laugh. She threw back her head and laughed and laughed, until Kristine and the salesclerk finally joined in, too. “That’s more like it,” the woman said, handing her a registry gun. “This is the fun part. Save the serious stuff for the chapel.”
Sixty
K
ristine was sitting in bed, reading an article on Japan, when Kevin walked in. He was dressed in his sweats and carrying a glass of water. He set it down on his nightstand and switched on the lamp.
He gave her a cautious look. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
Kevin stood there, chewing his lip. His eyes were troubled.
“What are you doing in here this early?” she asked, pulling the sheets up around her.
“I don’t know.” Kevin’s meaty face looked slightly bewildered, as though he didn’t quite know what he was doing in their bedroom either. “I thought I’d come in here with you. Read for a while.”
Kristine looked over at his side of the bed. On his nightstand, there was only the water, a box of tissues and an alarm clock. “Do you have a book?”
“Nope.” He gave a small laugh. “I was hoping you could point me in the right direction.”
“Oh.” Even though there were so many things wrong between them, they couldn’t ignore each other forever. In some ways, she was still desperately hoping that he would come through. That he would turn down the promotion or if he accepted it, somehow find a way to prove to her that it was the best choice, that he had a plan to make it all work.
“A book you’d like . . .” She thought for a minute. He wasn’t much of a reader but he seemed to prefer biographies on sports figures or world leaders. “A biography?”
“I don’t know.” Kevin made a move to crack his knuckles. She tensed in preparation, then he dropped his hands to his side. “Action?”
Throwing back the heavy comforter, Kristine padded into the living room. She ran her fingers over the spines until she found what she was looking for. Walking back into the room, she handed him a mystery thriller she’d been stupid enough to read on a night when he wasn’t home. “Courtesy of June. It scared the crap out of me. Maybe that will do it for you.”
“Great.” He stood there, holding the book, as Kristine slid back under the covers. She read a few pages, then noticed he was still standing there, looking at her.
Letting out a sigh, she took off her reading glasses. “What is it?”
Kevin opened his mouth, then closed it. “Nothing.” He walked over and sat on his edge of the bed. The mattress shifted slightly under his weight. “You look beautiful tonight. I just wanted to tell you that.”
“Oh.” Kristine’s voice was dull. After worrying about their marriage, juggling the events for the wedding and staying on top of the holiday rush at the store, she did not feel beautiful. She felt tired, old and more defeated than she’d ever thought she’d be.
Kevin gave her an awkward smile and climbed into bed. They both sat there for a moment. Her book was half opened, the pages fanning out in front of her. His book was still closed, resting on his lap.
“Do you . . . care if I read?” she finally asked.
“No, no. Let’s read.” Kevin cracked open his book. He read a page and turned it. Then he shook his head and gave a little laugh.
She looked over at him in surprise. “What are you laughing at? I thought it was a thriller.”
“Us.” He gestured at them. They were both tucked in under the covers, the lights on the nightstands fired up and their books neatly lying in their laps. “When the hell did we get so old?”
Kristine shook her head. “I have no idea. But I ask myself the same question every day.”
After a moment of pretending to read the book jacket, he set it aside altogether. “Kris, are we going to make it?” His eyes were worried, his voice low and earnest.
She stared down at the pages, watching the words blur in front of her. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “To be honest with you, I really don’t know.”
Sixty-one
T
he doorbell chimed and June wiped her hands on her apron. Kristine was working at the store and Charley was at the country club for his poker game. June wondered if it was a deliveryman, with yet another present. Even though she and Charley had not registered, it seemed that everyone in town had decided to send over a token or a trinket anyway.
At first, June had considered sending the gifts back. This was the second marriage for each and they certainly didn’t need anything. She hated for people to waste their money. But as the silver picture frames, monogrammed hand towels and wine goblets arrived, she found something very special about each item. They symbolized the life that she and Charley were building together.
Sliding open the peephole, June was surprised to see her son-in-law standing on her doorstep. He was wearing a heavy brown coat, jeans and a pair of tan worker boots. The navy stocking cap pulled low over his forehead made him look like a criminal, not a successful plant manager. June shook her head. No matter how he tried to play it, Kevin was a worker. That’s who he’d always been.
June eased open the door and kissed him hard on each fleshy cheek. “Kristine’s not here. She’s working at the store.”
Kevin’s face was ruddy not just from the cold, she saw, but from emotion. “Actually, June,” he said. “I’m here to see you.” He bowed his head, the muscle in his cheek working. “I . . .”
June pulled her sweater around her, surprised. Kevin rarely came to visit her. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time. A cab drove by on the street, honking angrily at another car blocking his way. Stepping aside, she gestured at Kevin.
“Come in, come in.” She stepped back into the hallway, watching as he closed the door behind him. The move was hesitant, as though he wanted to leave it open for a clean getaway. Finally, he pulled it shut and locked it. “Would you like a drink?” she asked. “I could make coffee?”
Kevin shook his head. Peeling off his cap, he stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket. Then, he made his way to the parlor, where he collapsed in a Taurean chair much too small for his frame.
June bustled over to the couch and took a seat. Her son-in-law sat in silence, clearing his throat. His mouth worked to say something again and again, but the words wouldn’t come.
“The longer we sit here, the older I get,” June chirped. “Let’s move it along.”
He let out a hearty sigh. “June,” he said, running the heel of his hand over his eyes. “When I first met you, I didn’t like you very much. In fact, I didn’t like you one bit.”
“Oh?” She shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “Because as the years went on, not only did I grow to like you, I grew to respect you.”
She let out a tiny breath.
Good.
He’d frightened her for a moment.
“I appreciated the way you always told it how it was. I’m here today”—Kevin adjusted his form and the chair creaked—“because I need you to tell me exactly how it is.”
June was stunned into silence. This proud, hulking man had come to her for advice? This, after years of insisting that she butt out and let him run his family his own way?
“Hmmph,” she said. “I rather don’t know what to say.” She took a tissue out of the pocket of her wool vest, folded it neatly, then put it right back into her pocket.
“Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the cake.” Kevin ran his hands over his face. “For the first time in the history of man, when I actually come to you for advice, you have nothing to say.”
June raised her eyebrows. “What’s on your mind?”
Pulling his hat out of his pocket, he rolled it over and over in his hands. “I need you to tell me what to do. Because . . . Because I love your daughter more than anything in this world and I don’t want to lose her. And I’m about to lose her, June. I know I am.”
As much as June wanted to debate this point, it was more than obvious that something was wrong with Kristine. She’d been pale and agitated ever since Kevin had gotten this new promotion. She wouldn’t go so far as to say that Kevin was about to
lose
Kristine but . . . maybe he knew something June did not.
“Kristine told me about your job,” she said carefully. “Congratulations.”
Kevin didn’t say anything. He just looked at her.
“I understand that you want to provide for your family, Kevin. I understand that you have some enormous responsibilities, with Chloe in school and Kristine running that store. But why do you insist on making your work more important than your family?”
Kevin opened his mouth to speak, but June was not quite finished. He had asked her a direct question and she was going to answer it.
“If you were
my
husband, I would be very confused,” she said. “On one hand, you tell me you love me. On the other, you put work before your family. Why would you do that, unless . . .” June put her hand to her mouth. It was like that moment when she’d solved one of her mysteries. Suddenly, she knew exactly what was going on. “Of course.”
June thought about the ease at which Kevin accepted her offer to pay for the wedding, the jokes he made about Chloe keeping her scholarship, the panic that crossed his face every time Kristine mentioned that store.
“It’s money.” She lowered her hand, staring at her son-in-law. “You’re in a terrible spot. Is that correct?”
Coughing to cover up his emotion, he nodded.
June’s heart sunk. This from the man who had always been too proud to ask for anything. The man who had gone above and beyond to make sure that he could provide for his wife on his own. She couldn’t believe it.
“Kevin, what happened?”
He shook his head. “I was just trying to catch up. And everything went to shit.” He tugged at the cap. “When I couldn’t get a job, we dug into our retirement account. Then, when I got a job—
finally
—I asked our guy to make some big moves. To get us caught back up.” Kevin wiped his hand across his face. “The market crashed and . . .” He blew out a deep breath. “That was the end of that. I was so stupid.”
“You certainly were not stupid,” she said. “
Everyone
lost a lot of money. You did nothing wrong.”
“I did, though,” Kevin insisted. “I should have been patient. Just done some honest work, for honest pay. But I got greedy. And . . .” He closed his eyes, as though in pain. “I never told her. I was so afraid she was going to lose that store. She’d just opened it and . . .”
June looked at him in astonishment. Kristine didn’t
know
?
This man had been going through all this and his wife didn’t even know? For heaven’s sake.
“When were you planning to tell her?” June demanded.
Kevin wrapped the hat around his hand like a tourniquet. “I was going to, but . . . You know how that is. You don’t say anything when it happens and then it’s too late. And I was fixing it. I
am
fixing it . . .” A flash of pride crossed his face. “I had built everything back up pretty good but then this promotion came along. Huge salary, huge 401(k). It’s exactly what we need.”
June raised her eyebrows. “Is it?” she asked, her voice quiet.
He looked at the floor.
June studied her son-in-law for a long moment. “I’m disappointed in you, Kevin. Not because you lost money, as everyone else did during that time, but because you didn’t trust Kristine enough to let her go through this with you. The whole richer or poorer thing? That’s in there for a reason.”
“I didn’t want her to think of me like that,” he growled. “So weak. Such a loser.”
“Kevin,” she snapped, “wake up. You want me to tell you like it is? It’s like this: I have watched you spend your entire marriage trying to prove to Kristine that you are better than the guy she married. But there was a
reason
she married you. She loved you.
You.
Not the person you wanted to become, but the man who you’ve always been.”
He looked surprised. “You really think that about me, June?”
“If you simply must fish for compliments,” she said, “then yes. Yes, I do.”
Kevin’s face worked with emotion. He cleared his throat.
“If you don’t want to lose your wife,” June said, “you need to be honest with her. Talk to her. Tell her everything that’s happened and find a way to meet in the middle. But you better do it quickly because I’ll tell you this much . . .” She swallowed hard. “I’ve never seen my daughter so unhappy. If you don’t work things out, I have no idea how much time the two of you will have left.”
“Are you going to tell her that I was here?” he asked. “What I said?”
In the past, yes. June would have called her daughter immediately and repeated his every word. But now, she planned to honor the promise she’d made to Charley. That she would let her family solve their problems on their own.
“No.” June reached out and patted his hand. “No, I am not.” Oddly, it felt good to say this and mean it. “You can fix this, Kevin. I know you can. You don’t need my help.”
They got to their feet and he hugged her. “Thanks, June,” he said. “I’ll do my best.”
“Now.” She straightened. “You’re staying in town? Until after our engagement party?”
Kevin shook his head. “Flying out tonight, coming back the afternoon of the party.”
June paused. “Oh. I thought . . .”
Kristine had specifically asked Kevin to not fly in that same day. With the weather, it was too risky that his flight would get delayed. She didn’t want him to miss the party.
“It’ll be okay,” Kevin said, as though reading her mind. “I’ll be there, Cupcake. You can count on that.”
After giving her a kiss on the cheek, Kevin left her house as quickly as he came. June picked up a coffee cup and placed it in the dishwasher. Walking around, she couldn’t help but notice that the house suddenly seemed very empty without him.