Learning to Love

by Emma Woods

  “Hello?” I said into the phone.

  “Hey, babe. You will not believe what happened to me on my flight home from Puerto Rico.”

  I felt a headache coming on.

  10

  I felt all mixed up over the next week. A call from my stepmother pressing me to commit to Thanksgiving plans didn’t help. Marco was back in Seattle, but still too busy to talk for more than a few minutes at a time. At least I didn’t get any calls in the middle of the night, though I wasn’t sleeping particularly well. I kept wrestling with weird thoughts about me and Marco, and a few of me and Tom.

  I couldn’t stop watching Tom on Wednesday and Thursday during the after-school program. He was such a kind, gentle person in a big, burly, bearded body. Sophie adored him. When she didn’t listen on Thursday, he had to take her aside and give her a talking-to. She burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. From around the corner, I peeked at them and saw Tom rubbing her back and talking softly to her. Before long, she was her old self again, but ready to listen to his instructions.

  It left me in a contemplative mood, and I drove home playing the scene through my mind again and again. How could Tom wonder if he was a good father? It was so obvious that he was doing a great job to anyone who saw him in action. In fact, he was pretty much an all-around great guy. The men in our Sunday School class liked him. The women flirted with him, which he took in stride. Kelly commented regularly on how nicely he handled the kids, who all loved him, too. And he treated me like a dear friend.

  I pulled into my spot on the side of Bumblebee House and noted absently that there was a strange car parked there. It wasn’t Matt’s SUV, so Rosemarie wasn’t entertaining her brother. Who could this be? We all knew, though she never admitted it, that Mae had an enormous crush on her boss. Had something happened with him?

  I gave the car one final glance, trying not to drop my purse, lunch bag, tote bag of clothes, and tote bag of papers to grade. I came around the corner and noticed Rosa sitting on the porch, talking to a man whose back was to me. Rosa had a big extended family. This was probably a nephew or cousin.

  However, when I began to climb the steps, Rosa looked up and said, “Here she is now.”

  The man stood up and turned, and I froze.

  “Marco?”

  He threw his arms open and beamed at me. “Surprise!”

  I was completely flustered. For a long minute, I stood blinking at him, until he laughed a bit uncomfortably.

  “What are you doing here?” I stammered.

  He came forward and drew me into an awkward hug, struggling to find a way to maneuver around all my baggage. “I took off a couple of days so I could see you. It’s been way too long.”

  “Wow! That’s amazing.” I was breathless and not sure why.

  When my brain started working again, I ushered him inside. “How long have you been here?”

  “About a half-hour. Rosa was here, and she suggested we wait for you on the porch.” Marco waited for me to drop my bags. Then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. “I really missed you, Jill,” he said huskily.

  My heart squeezed. “I missed you, too.” I was suddenly afraid that I was going to cry. I stepped back and pulled myself together. “Have you had a tour?”

  He shook his head, so I took his hand and we walked through all the rooms downstairs. I loved showing off the beautiful home that Rosa had put together. She had such a flair for style. It was apparent in all the little details of her home and her clothing. Living here had been such a blessing, and I was thrilled to finally show it to Marco.

  I couldn’t show him the other girls’ rooms, so I just pointed them out from the hallway. I pointed to the stairs up to Mae’s third-floor room and the now-empty room that had been Emily’s for a few short months. It was just about then that I started wondering about his plans.

  “Where are you staying?” I asked as we returned to my bedroom.

  Marco sat in one of my armchairs while I put my school things away. I was glad that my laundry pile wasn’t overflowing the basket and spilling out of my closet.

  “Rosa is going to let me stay in the gatehouse cottage. She said it’s recently renovated.”

  “Oh, that’s great. It’ll be nice having you close by.” Rosa was too classy to allow a man to sleep in the house. She was old-fashioned in a lot of ways, and I really appreciated that about her. Especially now. I knew that I would need to have some space between me and Marco in order to process his sudden appearance. “How long can you stay?”

  “My flight leaves on Sunday afternoon.”

  “Can you come to church with me and Granddad?” I asked. “He would love to meet you.”

  “I need to be leaving around eleven, so if it’s before that I can.”

  “Church is at 8:30.”

  “Great.”

  I had run out of things to talk about, so I sat across from him and tried to think of what to say next. “You can come to school with me tomorrow. My students would love to meet you.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t know if I could stand a whole day in second grade, Jill. Besides, I brought my laptop. I have a lot of work that still needs to be done. You said there’s a coffee shop in town, right?”

  “Maybe you could swing by after the kids leave.” I forced myself to sound optimistic.

  “I’ll see how much progress I make.” Marco gave me a condescending smile.

  I swallowed my swelling disappointment and nodded brightly. He really didn’t want to visit my classroom? This was a big part of my life and something I was very proud of. It hurt that he wasn’t even a little curious about it. If I was honest, part of why I wanted him to come to school was so that I could show him off to the other teachers. I wanted to walk around and introduce him as my fiancé. I imagined the look on people’s faces when they saw that this good-looking guy was with me.

  “It’s my turn to help make supper. Would you like to come down with me, or would you rather stay up here?” I asked.

  “I’ll come and help,” he offered.

  And for half an hour, things felt almost normal between us. Marco was a good cook and he put his own touch on the pork chops. He gave me careful instructions for preparing the side dishes, and we chatted amiably as we worked. Marco was eager to tell me about all the amazing adventures he’d had on his travels.

  It was less fun introducing Marco to the Bumblebee girls than I’d imagined. They were very kind and welcoming, but they kept shooting me questioning looks. Emily and Nate arrived, and the two men hit it off, much to my relief. Nate was of the same good-looking, nicely dressed stock, and he and Marco talked football for a long time.

  Mae’s face was pointedly closed off. She regarded my fiancé with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on more than one occasion. I’d hoped that Marco and Rosemarie would find some common ground, but my best friend was too timid to press into his manly conversation, and Marco didn’t pick up any of the breadcrumbs I laid down. Emily cocked her head and evaluated him with thoughtful eyes. I noticed Marco noticing her and felt immediately self-conscious.

  I had to go to bed early, since the following day was a work day for me. Marco headed off to the gatehouse with Nate and Emily as guides, and I went to bed before anyone could talk to me. I was exhausted and fell asleep before I had time to process what Marco’s arrival meant to me.

  I was scattered on Friday. Even the students noticed. I asked Julie to watch my car line kids so I could get home a few minutes earlier. As I drove off, I wondered if I just might be avoiding having to see Tom’s easy warmth as he picked up Sophie. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I was afraid that seeing him treat her gently would make me burst into tears.

  Marco wasn’t at the gatehouse, and I had time to take a shower and then get dressed. I’d been covered in trail dust the day before and wanted to look my best today. I put on makeup and a flattering outfit with a navy top that set off my blonde hair and blue eyes well.

  When Marco did arrive, I suggested that we dr
ive to Melbourne for supper. He agreed, and then spent the entire time explaining, in great detail, what he’d worked on all day. His explanation continued through our being seated and putting in our orders.

  Finally, he ground to a stop. “I have some really fun ideas about what we can do tomorrow,” he said, taking a sip of his water—without lemon, which damaged tooth enamel—and smiled brightly at me.

  “Oh, I totally forgot! Tomorrow I’m supposed to help with a service project through church. We’re going to spend the day helping an elderly woman get some housework done.” I cringed. What bad timing! I couldn’t blow it off, but I hadn’t known my fiancé would be coming into town. I felt stuck between two obligations, neither of which I particularly wanted.

  “What are you going to do? Vacuum for her?” Marco laughed dismissively. “Do they really need your help?”

  I prickled at that and chose my words carefully. I did not want to have a fight with Marco this weekend. “Some of the guys are going to work on bigger projects. I think some will be working on the roof, and some are rebuilding her front porch steps. I’m supposed to help with painting the back porch.”

  Marco’s silence was palpable. It was blatantly obvious that he did not like this situation. Finally, though, he sighed and said, “Well, I guess that’s what we’ll do, then.”

  “Thanks,” I said slowly. He didn’t want to help with the project, so why had he agreed to do it? That wasn’t like him. Well, it was like the old version of Marco. He would have pitched in cheerfully. Version 2.0 wasn’t really “into” volunteering.

  The rest of the evening was strained. Maybe I was paranoid, but suddenly everything Marco said felt condescending. He looked around the restaurant with his lip slightly curled and complained about the food. I was left in no doubt that the place I’d chosen to eat was below his new, trendy standards. It irritated me, and our car ride home was almost made in silence. I escaped as soon as I could and hurried to my room before any of my housemates asked how our date had been.

  Things were looking brighter the next morning. We were up and at the project site by eight o’clock. Marco was in a better mood, for which I was very grateful. I was determined to have a good day.

  Tom, Chris, and Jared were already there. When I climbed out of Marco’s rented luxury car, they all stopped talking and watched us approach. Both Chris and Jared seemed to be sizing Marco up and finding themselves lacking. My heart went out to them and, again, introducing him around wasn’t nearly as fun as I’d expected.

  I could hardly bring myself to look at Tom as I introduced them. “Marco, this is Tom Jerrett. Tom, this is my fiancé, Marco.”

  They shook hands and, to my horror, I heard Marco say, “Jill said that the stairs need rebuilding. Why don’t you let me handle that?”

  As far as I knew, my fiancé had no experience with building anything other than an attractive wardrobe. What made him think that he could rebuild stairs? The shock of his words gave me the courage to look Tom full in the face to gauge his reaction.

  Unsurprisingly, he took that in stride. “Great. Chris and Jared, can the two of you make sure the roofers have what they need? It’s helpful to have a couple of people on the ground to hold ladders and stuff.”

  The two guys nodded and trotted off toward the piles of shingles and nails. Several other cars and pickup trucks were pulling up, and people were getting out.

  “I suppose you’d like to help your fiancé, Jill?” Tom asked, and I felt like he was asking me from across a vast distance. There was no warmth in his words; all the friendship that I’d come to cherish from him was missing.

  “Sure, though I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” I laughed awkwardly.

  “We’ll do great, babe,” Marco said and strode off toward the power tools.

  When I looked back, Tom was watching me inscrutably.

  “He flew in to surprise me,” I said feebly. “I hope it’s okay that he helps out today.”

  Tom looked as though he was analyzing me. “Of course.”

  I gave him my bravest smile and went off in search of my fiancé.

  Fortunately, there were so many volunteers that others had to be assigned to our project. A big, burly guy named Ben seemed to know what he was doing, much to my relief. He and Marco tore down the old steps and began measuring and cutting the new ones.

  I held the boards steady for them, handed them pencils or rulers or whatever, and cringed whenever Marco opened his mouth. For reasons I couldn’t begin to understand, he felt the need to boast constantly. He proudly explained his important job, full of exotic travels. He described the incredible food he’d eaten and assured Ben that everything in Birch Springs was low-class compared to what he was used to.

  I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. Where was the sweet, thoughtful guy I’d fallen in love with? It was becoming apparent that he was long gone. Had I really not noticed, or had I been ignoring the facts? Ben was a good sport, but even he noticed my distress, though Marco had no clue.

  By two o’clock, we’d finished everything that needed doing and I began to help clean up the site. Mrs. Clauson, the widow whose house we’d been working on, showered us with heartfelt thanks, which was about the only thing in that day that didn’t make me feel awful.

  “Babe, we should really get going,” Marco called across the yard to me as I was speaking to Mrs. Clauson.

  I forced a smile and said, “I’m so glad we could help,” before turning and stalking over to him. I was shaking with suppressed anger and frustration. Did he have to be so rude?

  A hand reached out to me. I looked up and found Tom watching me, his eyes full.

  “We’re going,” I said shakily, not able to think of anything else to say.

  “Thanks for your help. We’ll see you tomorrow at church.” It was as though there was something else in his words that he wanted me to hear, but I had no idea what his hidden message might be.

  Still, I felt steadier at his touch, and I nodded and managed a small smile. “See you tomorrow.”

  Marco was waiting by the car, frowning at me as I came up. He’d seen my exchange with Tom and had read plenty into it. I climbed into the car and prayed that I wouldn’t break apart into a thousand pieces.

  11

  Marco turned on the radio as soon as we got in the car. “Let’s go back to Melbourne and get something to eat,” he said. “I’ve had to share you all day. I want you all to myself tonight.”

  It would have been almost sweet, if we hadn’t just finished an entire day of little annoyances piling up into a big, flammable pile of sticks. Why didn’t Marco ask me what I wanted? Why was his opinion the only one that mattered? Was this somehow my fault? Over the years, I had been the one to move to Seattle to be near him. I’d quietly gone along with whatever he wanted to do. I couldn’t blame Marco for getting into the habit of not asking my opinion, since I’d stopped giving it to him long ago.

  As I showered and dressed, I kept going back over our relationship. In the early days, I had spoken up more, hadn’t I? Or maybe Marco just paid more attention to me back then. Our first date had been romantic. He’d taken me to get sushi, and then we’d gone to see a touring Broadway show. It had been really nice. I mean, it wasn’t as special as Emily and Nate’s first date, but that didn’t matter. At least, I told myself it didn’t matter.

  Not long after, we were driving to Melbourne mostly in silence. I didn’t have anything to ask Marco, because he’d told me everything about his life. And he didn’t take the time to ask me anything about mine. As the miles went by, I grew more and more agitated. Why was this so hard for us?

  Marco pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant and said, “This looks like a good place, don’t you think?”

  “Do you really want my opinion, or are you just making small talk?” I snapped.

  He finished parking and turned the car off. “Where did that come from?”

  “I’m not happy with our relationship, Marco. I miss the couple we w
ere when we first started dating. We never talk anymore. We never see each other. I don’t know if I can keep doing this.” It was just the tip of the iceberg, but I didn’t have the courage to face all of our problems at the moment.

  “We talk as often as we can,” he protested.

  “No,” I cut him off. “You call me when you can, and then you tell me about your life. You’ve stopped showing any interest in my life at all. It really hurt that you didn’t want to come to my class yesterday. I’m very proud to be a teacher with my own class, and you don’t care at all. If you loved me, you’d be interested in my life.”

  “Whoa! That’s unfair! Just because I had work to do and couldn’t do it in your class, doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.”

  It felt like he was dodging the real issue, but I didn’t pause to analyze his words. “Okay, yesterday didn’t work out. But we’ve been alone together a lot over the past couple of days, and you never ask about me. This is something I wish I could share with you, but you don’t ever take the time to listen.”

  Marco stared out the front windshield, his jaw muscles working. “My job is really intense. I have a lot on my mind all the time. It’s not a great time for me to be in a relationship, but I’m doing my best to keep this going, because I don’t want to lose you.”

  My stomach clenched and my heart gave a little whimper. “Our relationship isn’t healthy. Right now I can’t imagine marrying you, because you’re like a stranger to me. One I’m not sure I even like.”

  “You don’t want to get married?” he scowled at me, incredulous.

  I pressed my lips together, unable to meet his eyes. “I want to marry the Marco I fell in love with back in college. I don’t want to marry the Marco who doesn’t have time for me and can’t ask me about my life.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. Tears pressed at my eyes. Were we going to break up? Did I want that? I toyed with my engagement ring. I’d been so proud when he’d given it to me. I had worn it for almost four years, thrilled with how beautiful it was and how impressed other women were when they saw it. Was I ready to give it back and give up everything that Marco and I had?