by Emma Woods
“It’s likely that my company is going to promote me soon. I’ll be moving to the San Francisco office,” he finally said.
“What happened to the other position in Asia?” I asked quietly.
“I told them that I was getting married and needed to stay in the U.S. more consistently for awhile.”
I chanced a contrite glance at him. That had been really considerate. Particularly since I knew he’d been excited about the other job.
He traced the steering wheel and added, “I thought we could get married next summer and move to San Francisco together.”
My heart gave a feeble leap. He was thinking of getting married in a few months. That was really good news. However, moving to San Francisco was not.
“It would be really hard for me to get another teaching job there. I’d hate to give up the one I already have.”
“This is something I don’t understand, Jill,” Marco said, suddenly on the offensive. “You act as though being a teacher is more important to you than being with me. All the time, you pick your job over me, and then you’re angry when I have to prioritize my career.”
Did I do that? I sat back, stunned.
He went on angrily, “I make enough money for both of us. Once we are married and live in the same apartment, our expenses will be lower. You don’t need a job. If you want one, fine, but it doesn’t have to be a big, full-time career or anything.”
Marco turned to me, and I found I couldn’t meet his eyes. There were just too many thoughts and emotions running through me at that moment.
He took my hand. “Do you still want to marry me, Jill?”
I blinked and swallowed back tears. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t think straight. Did I? Almost automatically, I nodded.
“Okay. Well, we’ll go from there.” Marco’s voice was full of relief and hope.
And, for the rest of the night, Marco was extremely attentive. He held my door for me, asked me questions, and held my hand. It was like the old version of him had finally caught up.
We went to church with my grandfather the next day, and Marco was charming and wonderful. I was sorry to see him drive away.
But then I went inside to my room and cried until I didn’t have any tears left.
* * *
Monday was not much better. I left school feeling down in the dumps. Since life had been so busy, I hadn’t been to the gym in weeks. Surely a good workout would help lift me out of my doldrums.
Birch Springs didn’t have a big, fancy gym. It’s a very small town, and a gym like that would just be too much to hope for. However, someone had turned an abandoned building on a nearby farm into a gym. It always cracked me up a bit to turn into the driveway for what looked exactly like all the other farms in the area. The parking area was close to a holding pen for cows and never smelled particularly well.
Yet, when I opened the door and entered Mike’s Farm Fitness Center, it felt like other not-very-fancy places I’d worked out before.
Fortunately, I was in time for a spin class on this particular day, and I took great pleasure in pushing myself to pedal until I didn’t have the ability to obsess about my looming wedding. Once I realized that I had to focus on breathing and not falling off my stationary bike, I smiled grimly. Mission accomplished.
Once Katie, the eternally perky instructor, called an end to our ride, I dismounted on rubbery legs, eager for a shower. I grabbed my bag and water bottle.
“Great job today, Jill!” Katie called, looking fresh and skinny.
I panted at her and managed a thumbs-up. Even my smile was too tired to do much good. I turned and started to trudge toward the door.
“Jill!”
I looked around. On occasion, I ran into my students’ parents here, which was usually a tad on the awkward side. Few of them called me by my first name, though.
Tom heaved himself off a weightlifting bench and lumbered toward me. He was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt that showed off his bulging biceps a little too effectively. None of his workout wear was fashionable, but he certainly made those old duds look good.
“Oh, hi,” I said. I hoped I looked even a quarter as good as Katie did after a workout. “I didn’t know you came here.”
He crossed his arms and shrugged. “I got a membership, but I can only come when Sophie’s otherwise occupied. Today she’s over at her friend Tabitha’s house. Since I have a few minutes, can I buy you a drink at the juice bar?”
I agreed and we made our way to the makeshift snack bar. Soon we had smoothies with protein powder and climbed up onto stools at a tall table near a window that overlooked the pig yard.
“Wow, that is a view,” I said dryly.
Tom grinned. “How was the visit with your fiancé?”
Thanks for bringing that up, I groused inwardly. “It was nice of him to surprise me,” I dodged.
“Have you set a date for the wedding?”
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. I reminded myself that Tom was my friend, and I could talk to him about this stuff.
“We’re talking about next summer. But a lot depends on Marco’s job. He has a couple of different promotions available and that will determine where he lives, which will decide what jobs I can do.” I waved my hand, as though to brush away pesky flies. “Nothing’s set in stone.”
Tom played with his straw for a minute. “I think we’re friends, right?”
“Right,” I said with a sinking stomach.
His warm eyes confronted mine kindly. “Based on what I saw Saturday, it seemed like things weren’t going very well. I wanted to encourage you to be very honest with yourself where he’s concerned. There comes a point in an engagement where it’s extremely complicated to put an end to things. If there’s any part of you that says you shouldn’t marry him, you need to give it careful consideration before you get past the point of no return.”
“You hardly know him,” I said dismissively.
Tom put a hand on mine. “I know what I’m talking about. My ex-wife, Kara, and I had a rocky engagement. I think I knew that it was a bad idea when I proposed. There are times when I wonder what would have happened if I had called a stop to things.”
“It’s not as easy as that.”
“I never said it was easy.”
I pressed my lips together, temper rising. “Okay, well, we’ve got some problems, but we’re working on them. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in a relationship? You stick with it and work things out.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Romantic relationships aren’t like family relationships or friendships. They will always take work, but if all you’re ever doing is working to fix problems, you’ve got a bad relationship.”
He was poking awfully close to the swollen, painful, infected heart of the issue, and I didn’t want him getting any closer.
“Thanks for your advice. I’ll give it some thought.” I jumped off my stool and my leg muscles complained loudly. I winced and tried to sound off-hand. “I’ve got to go.”
Tom grabbed my arm gently. “Jill, you deserve someone who treats you better.”
“What?” I demanded.
He looked regretful. “Marco is supposed to be in love with you. He wasn’t acting like it. Your wants and needs should matter to him, and they didn’t on Saturday.”
I shook his hand off. “And what are you, Tom? The romance guru? What relationship have you had that was so perfect that you can look down on the rest of us?”
He actually looked like my words had wounded him. I instantly felt a lump of guilt slide down my throat and plunk into my stomach.
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I grabbed my bag and sprinted shakily to my car. What was wrong with me?
12
Lest you think I am a total jerk, I was quick to apologize to Tom when I saw him on Wednesday at the ranch. He accepted my apology and was still friendly, but it wasn’t the same. We both knew he was right. I had no business being angry with Tom for his gentle confrontation.
Af
ter supper, Rosemarie came home from spending time with her brother Luke and his family. I slunk into her room and flopped onto the love seat under the double windows that overlooked Bumblebee House’s sprawling front yard.
“I’m a mess,” I moaned.
She regarded me with worried eyes as she took off her jacket and hung it neatly in her closet. Then she glided over and curled up on the other end of the love seat. I threw my legs over the back so we both fit.
“This is about Marco, isn’t it?”
I sighed with all the confusion and sadness I had in me. “Yes. He wants us to get married next summer and move to San Francisco.”
Rosemarie waited, eyebrows raised. “How dare he?” she tried when I didn’t continue.
My mouth twitched. “I don’t want to move to San Francisco. I want to stay here and keep teaching.”
“What did he say when you told him that?”
I played with the edge of my t-shirt. “I didn’t exactly tell him.” I caught my friend’s reproving look and threw up my hands. “I told you I’m a mess!” Then the whole story about his visit and Tom’s intervention spilled out. I ended with a whiny, “I don’t know what to do!”
My beautiful friend listened carefully, nodding along as I talked. Then in her gentle way, she asked, “Why do you want to marry Marco?”
“Right now, I don’t think I do. Is that normal? Do normal people have doubts about getting married?”
“I think so. The trouble is that you are very emotional right now. We both know that our emotions are not sound guides for our lives. Let’s think logically about the situation. What are the reasons why marrying Marco is a good idea?”
I sat up, crossing my legs. Rosemarie was right. I considered her question.
“Every reason I can think of has to do with who we were back in college, before we moved to Seattle. We used to love talking together. We used to enjoy doing the same things. We used to have the same goals and dreams. Now, none of those things are true.” I felt tears threatening.
“But that happens sometimes in a relationship. People grow and change. The way you work in a relationship has to differ over the years. It’s not all bad. But, it’s foolish to marry someone hoping he’ll change. You have no guarantee that he’ll become who you want him to be.”
“How’d you get so smart?” I asked.
She gave me a tiny smile. “Stay focused. Where do you see yourself ten years from now, if you and Marco marry?”
“I can see us in an apartment in San Francisco with a couple of kids. Marco probably would be traveling a lot, so I would have to care for the kids mostly on my own.” I felt my forehead wrinkling. I was growing angry with Marco for something he hadn’t actually done.
“Whoa, now,” Rosemarie jumped in. “Don’t assign emotions to this. You don’t have to be mad or blame anyone. Is that a future you could manage? Is it one you could be happy in?”
I dialed the resentment back and gave the scenario another look. I would like to have kids. However, I would prefer living in a small town like Birch Springs. Instantly, my two nonexistent dream children and I swirled away from that future and into another one. In my imagination, I saw them sharing a horse with Sophie while I sat on the porch of a little white house, with Tom sitting next to me. We shared a cup of coffee and laughed over our children’s antics.
It was warm and happy, just the way I always felt around Tom. Try as I might, I couldn’t force the man in my vision to be Marco. He simply didn’t fit.
My phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket. It was Ashley calling. I rolled my eyes at Rosemarie as I answered.
“Hi, Ashley,” I said.
“Hi, Jill. Listen, your dad wanted me to call again and try to get a firm answer about Thanksgiving. We need to book the condo now. Have you and Marco decided if you’re coming?”
I wanted to scream and throw the phone. Another decision concerning Marco was the last thing I needed. I took a steadying breath and said, “We haven’t been able to decide for sure. He might be promoted, and that would change his vacation time.” I wasn’t certain that was true, but it sounded like a good excuse.
“Your dad really hopes you can come.” And she took off telling me all about Kyle and Tyler, my fabulous stepbrothers.
I rolled my eyes at Rosemarie as I “oh, really?”-ed and “uh-huh”-ed.
After five minutes of monologuing, Ashley said, “Well, we need a final decision by Friday, okay, hon?”
“Sure. Talk to you later.”
I hung up and buried my face in my arm on the back of the love seat. “I can’t take it!”
Rosemarie’s hand reached out, and she rubbed my leg.
“Dad wants me to come to Vail skiing with them this Thanksgiving, did I tell you that? I don’t want to go at all, but Marco thinks it would be fun, and Dad wants me there.” I felt really and truly stuck. “I’ve been saving money like crazy since school started so I can afford it.”
“Can I point something out?” my friend asked delicately.
“Go for it.”
Rosemarie gave me an apologetic look and plunged in. “I think you let your dad walk all over you. Your entire relationship with him is on his terms. He wants you to go skiing, so you go to great lengths to make it happen, even though you don’t want to go. He doesn’t even call you. He has his wife do that.”
It was true. I rarely spoke to my father on the phone. I didn’t like thinking about our relationship much, because it was mostly empty. It was all about me doing what he wanted.
I gulped. I’d just described my relationship with Marco, too. Empty. One-sided. No wonder I was having such a hard time letting go of it.
I jumped to my feet and started pacing Rosemarie’s room. Luckily, it was much tidier than mine was, or else I wouldn’t have had far to pace.
“I think you’re onto something, Rosie,” I said, hardly aware of her presence as I processed this. “When I was little, Dad and I were close, but he married Ashley and they had kids, and he stopped having time for me. We settled into these weird patterns of not talking. The same thing happened with Marco. Things got difficult, and I stopped fighting for his attention.
“I can’t really even blame Marco for that, even though I have been. I haven’t spoken up. I haven’t fought to have good communication. He doesn’t know what to ask me about my life, and I don’t bother telling him, so he doesn’t know what to ask for the future.”
Maybe there was hope for us yet. If we could repair our communication and figure out how to work together, there was a chance we could have a good marriage. It would take some work, though. I thought back to all the times I’d been upset with Marco and didn’t say anything. I’d pretended that things were fine while nurturing my grievances in secret. What a dummy I’d been!
I pulled out my phone and sent Marco a text asking him to call me as soon as he could.
“Thanks for listening,” I said to Rosemarie when I finally noticed she was still sitting there.
“Any time,” she said with a kind smile. “And, Jill, I hope you figure out what it is that God wants for this relationship. Whether He wants you to marry Marco or not is the thing that matters most.”
My phone rang, and I didn’t have time to ponder her words. I hurried back to my room as I answered Marco’s call.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“I need to talk to you about something important. Do you have some time right now?” I didn’t want him to be interrupted in the middle of what I had to say.
“Yeah. I just got home from work. I was planning to go out with some guys from work, but I can talk instead.”
I tried to organize my thoughts. “I’ve been really dissatisfied with our relationship lately, and I’ve been blaming you for it, which is unfair,” I rushed to say. “I had, like, an epiphany today. I realized that over the years, I’ve fallen into a pattern with my dad where I let him run our relationship. We only talk if he calls me, and mostly he tells Ashley to call and give me a message.
He says he wants to see me, and I do everything I can think of to get to him.”
Marco was silent, and I hoped that meant he was listening. I continued, “I think I let the same thing happen to us. I stopped telling you what I wanted and what was happening in my life. It’s only natural that we fell into a similar pattern to me and my dad.
“Anyway, I needed to tell you this because I’m going to do a better job of communicating what I need. I’m going to tell you what my opinion is when I have one and let us work together to come up with plans. And, Marco, I don’t want to move to San Francisco. I want to talk through some other options and make sure it’s the best thing for us, if we’re going to do that.” I sank into my favorite armchair with a smile. It felt so good to get all that off my chest. Now we could start really fixing what was wrong.
Marco was quiet for another few heartbeats. Then he said, “I hear you, Jill. But I don’t want you to turn into one of those women who is always demanding her way. I like the way things have been going. My career is really important to our lives, and it needs to be a priority. I already passed on the salesman job in East Asia, and I’m not going to give up the promotion to San Francisco. If you can’t move there, we might as well not be together.”
It was as though his words had punched a hole right through me. I was left gasping for air. “You won’t even discuss any other options?” I wheezed.
“I already told you that I’m taking the job in San Francisco. What else is there to discuss? I can’t do my job from a rinky-dink town in the middle of nowhere.”
“There are other jobs,” I squeezed out.
“I don’t want another job. I like the one I have. End of discussion.”
That pushed me from shock to anger. “Wait a second, Marco. You keep telling me that my job doesn’t matter and I should give it up, yet you’re completely unwilling to do the same for me. That’s completely unfair.”