by Hilary Dartt
***
Is it true?
At home, eating dinner at the kitchen counter, Josie asked herself over and over whether Summer and Delaney—and Paul—were right as she ate dinner and prepared for bed that night. This wasn’t the first time in recent history the girls had pointed out her bad moods.
While mixing her meatloaf with her mashed potatoes, Josie thought about the last couple of interactions she and Paul shared.
Be subjective, she told herself. Pretend you’re a fly on the wall. Or a spider. A black freakin’ widow.
Just a couple of weeks ago, Paul texted her at five one evening to say he was coming home early. Because Josie was still at school, working on lesson plans for the following week, she didn’t even think to check her phone. Needless to say, she didn’t get his text until she left school at nine p.m. By the time she got home, Paul was in bed. What if he had planned a nice dinner for the two of them, just as she had with the steaks? It never even crossed her mind.
A week or so before that, Paul came into the bathroom while she was in the shower. He worked late the night before, and he must have gotten up early just to spend time with her. He slid the shower curtain back, peeked his head in, and ran a hand from her shoulder to her ass, where he stopped for a little squeeze.
“Can I join you?”
And what did she do? Instead of welcoming a connection, she pushed him away. “I’m in a hurry. I’ve got to get to work.”
Without another word, he pulled his arm back, closed the shower curtain, and went back to bed.
Being subjective, she thought, she was cold.
“Ugh,” she said to herself as she put her dishes in the dishwasher. “You’ve got a lot of work to do, woman.”
***
Friday morning, Josie awoke with a renewed sense of purpose. She’d seen the light and she knew she had to change.
She could do it.
All along, she told herself she was just reacting to Paul’s bad behavior, but now she realized she played as much of a role as he did in the recent decline of their marriage.
Today’s outfit: skinny black pants with a bright pink sweater set. Cute, for sure, but still sexy, showing off the curves Summer so loved. She was thinking so hard about Paul and how she could fix things that she didn’t even see Scott standing in the doorway of his office, waiting for her to enter the building.
“Good morning,” he said.
She jumped.
“Good morning.”
Despite her intentions to continue walking straight up the stairs to her classroom, Scott walked toward her, stopping on the bottom step.
Impatient, Josie scowled at him. “I have things I need to do before school starts.”
“I just wanted to tell you something,” he said. His tone was so overtly gentle that she expected him to ask her to sit down.
“Well, tell me.” She placed a foot on the step next to him, making it clear she didn’t mean to spend much time here.
“I’m moving. To Phoenix.”
Good riddance.
“I thought you were taking that curriculum position at the district here, in Juniper.”
He sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand.
“I was. But the truth is, it’s just too hard for me to be here. In Juniper, with you. I’d still see you at all the districtwide administrative meetings. And even now, I see you everywhere I go. I drive past the square and remember that first time we met. I walk past the pub and remember how you convinced me to try their fried crickets that night. I see a kid on a red bike and think about young Josie, pedaling up the hill on her first bike, losing momentum and tipping over just before the crest.”
So you did listen. You do care about me.
Ugh. What is up with my crying urges lately?
Josie tried for a smile, but she could feel her lips twisting into something more like a grimace.
Although she wanted to say, “I think about those things, too,” she made the conscious decision to hurt him just as he hurt her earlier this week when he said every conversation they had was strictly professional.
“I never think about those things,” she said, and then she walked up the stairs, leaving him standing there, frozen with surprise. The man was exhausting, and she was happy to be rid of him. When she passed the second landing, though, her mind flashed to the time they had stood in that same spot, just after breaking up, the tension between them like the buzz of a neon sign. She wanted so badly to reach out to him, to run a finger along the line of his chin. She wanted so badly for him to put a hand on her shoulder. Just one little touch. But before they wound up intertwined on that second-floor landing, they walked away from one another. He went down, and she went up.
CHAPTER NINE
Surprising Statistic #8. Marriage counseling may lead to divorce.
Yes, she had done a quick Internet search, “Does marriage counseling work,” just before leaving her classroom, and she wasn’t all that pleased with what she found.
The surprising statistics the article’s headline promised were actually wishy washy, super-obvious discussion points disguised as answers. Basically, they all said, “It depends.” On whether both people show up, how much you want to repair the marriage, how your marriage is faring, whether you go to a licensed counselor or a psychologist. “Of course it depends,” she said to her computer before shutting it down and heading out to her car.
Nevertheless, Josie figured she could improve their chances if she made a point of arriving on time to the second appointment with Dr. Strasser. She felt smug as she walked into the reception area five minutes early, but deflated immediately when she saw Paul was already there.
Why does he always have to one-up me?
A year ago, Josie would have sat down in the chair next to Paul’s and leaned over for a kiss. Now, for some reason, with the spotlight on their relationship, she wasn’t sure what to do.
“Hey,” she said from the doorway.
“Hey,” he said. He put down the magazine he was holding and stood up. At first she thought it was just his old-fashioned manners making an appearance, but then he walked toward her and put his arms around her waist.
“I miss you, baby,” he said. “I know I said I wasn’t aware we were having problems, or whatever, but the truth is that I just couldn’t put my finger on what’s wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Her body went from rigid to supple, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she let him hold her. They stood there for a full minute before she spoke.
“We can fix it,” she said. “Remember the first time we cooked for your parents? We decided we would make that fancy roast thing, only, I’d never made a roast before. I was in charge of browning it while you made the salad. I still don’t know why you put me in charge of browning it. But anyway, I burned the crap out of it. Remember?”
“How could I forget?” he said. Although he didn’t laugh out loud, she could feel his amusement as they stood in Dr. Strasser’s reception area, holding each other.
“Remember what you said to me then?” she asked. “You said, ‘We can fix this. We can still get this dinner back on track.’ You cut off all the burned bits and browned it yourself. Your parents loved it. Afterwards, you said, ‘If we can fix that roast, we can fix anything. That’s how we know our marriage is solid.’”
This time, he did laugh out loud.
“You know, you’re right,” he said. “And I still believe it, too. Trust me, fixing that roast was hard work. But we did it, right? I think that ended up being the best roast I’ve ever had. Even to this day.”
The door to Dr. Strasser’s office opened, and he smiled when Josie and Paul turned to look at him.
“Making progress already, I see,” he said. He gestured to the open door, and followed them in.
***
“So, did each of you do your homework?” Dr. Strasser wanted to know.
Josie and Paul nodded. Josie felt very center stage in this office.
And not in a good way.
“Good,” Dr. Strasser said. “Now, I’m not going to make you read it aloud or anything, but I do want to talk about the feelings portion. I want to know how each of you felt during those best times and worst times. Let’s start with the best times. Josie?”
Okay, I can do this. This isn’t so bad.
“Okay,” she said. She remembered from her speech and debate days that she wasn’t supposed to start any speech with “Okay,” so she cleared her throat and began again. “I felt happy, connected, loved and cared for.”
“Paul?”
“I felt connected, too,” he said. “And important. You know, important to Josie. I felt like part of a family.”
Dr. Strasser nodded. He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. Josie squashed the urge to mimic him.
“Now let’s talk about those times when you experienced negative emotions. Paul, you go first.”
“All right.” He cleared his throat. Josie realized he was nervous, too. She gave him an encouraging smile, but he was staring at his lap.
“I felt alone,” he said. “Like, lonely. And I felt angry. Sad. Disappointed.”
Wow, he is really on a roll.
He went on, “I felt exhausted. Like things were out of my control. Like I was trying so hard, but I was failing.”
“You sure have a lot of negatives compared to your measly list of positives.” The words escaped from Josie like a bull coming out of a chute. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but she could tell from Paul’s expression (and even from Dr. Strasser’s carefully blank one) that the damage was already done. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I’m really sorry.”
“Josie, why don’t you go ahead and tell us about your emotions during the tougher times.”
She nodded, eager to put that outburst behind her. Paul’s ears turned red, which meant he was either angry or embarrassed. Probably both.
“I felt lonely, too,” she said. “I felt angry and sad.”
The three of them sat in silence for a few beats.
“Take a minute and sit with those feelings,” Dr. Strasser said. “Just sit with them.”
Josie didn’t know why, but she felt surprised that Paul had experienced feelings similar to hers. Lonely? Paul felt lonely? It always seemed like his work fulfilled him so much he didn’t even need her. She suspected that’s where a lot of her resentment came from.
This was very unexpected.
“Good,” said Dr. Strasser, as if he could hear her thoughts. “Now, I want each of you to talk about your reaction to your partner’s feelings.” Paul shifted in his chair. Dr. Strasser must have taken that as willingness to go first. “What are you thinking, now that you know how Josie feels, Paul?”
Paul nodded.
When she was teaching, Josie always thought it was cute when a student nodded after she asked him a question, as if he was verifying he understood it.
“I guess I feel kind of guilty, knowing Josie’s been feeling lonely. She seems so self-sufficient all the time. And when I do try to help her or just keep her company or whatever, she blows me off.”
Josie felt her spine stiffen, but she didn’t speak.
“Josie, I want you to think about Paul’s comment—that he feels like you blow off his efforts to help you or keep you company. Before you respond to that, I’d like you to talk about your reaction to the homework assignment.”
“Well.” Okay, so a little indignation crept in. “Firstly, I’d like to say I am kind of surprised and hurt to hear how many negative emotions Paul is experiencing with regard to our marriage. Especially since he said he didn’t realize there was a problem. Secondly, I, too, had no idea Paul felt lonely. He is so wrapped up in his job. Even when he’s home with me, he’s on his phone, texting some informant, texting his partner, whatever. How could he possibly be lonely? He’s never actually alone.”
Now, Josie could sense Paul’s spine stiffening, just as hers had when he was speaking. It was actually comical. Relief-related humor. Maybe they shared more similarities than she realized. Instead of laughing (because she knew he would think she was laughing at something he said) she reached across the space between their chairs and squeezed his arm. When he glanced at her, looking a bit panicked, she smiled at him.
Relief washed over her when she saw his answering smile.
“Yes,” Dr Strasser said. “I think we’re making some progress here.”
***
Today’s session with Dr. Strasser had gone pretty well, Josie thought. Paul had to go to work to finish some reports, so she decided to treat herself to a cocktail at Juniper’s swankiest restaurant, Juniper Station. Sitting on a tall stool at the modern stainless steel bar, she savored her vodka cranberry.
After Paul’s heart-stopping smile, Dr. Strasser asked her to really think about why she reacted the way she did when Paul offered help or company. She asked Paul for examples, and he actually had a couple to offer.
Once, he was running just a few minutes late after work, he came home to find her in the middle of decluttering the linen closet. He offered to help, but she basically told him to go away.
She remembered the day clearly. She expected him home at seven. When he didn’t walk through the door by seven minutes after, she ditched the dinner idea she had planned and got elbow-deep in the decluttering project she’d been considering for quite some time.
Still steaming when he did get home at seven-fifteen, she gave him the cold shoulder. She didn’t even offer him a chance to explain the reason he was late: he stopped on the highway to help a woman his grandmother’s age put the spare tire on her car after she had a blowout.
When she finally heard him out, it was such a classic story she chose not to believe him, instead concocting some wild tale in her imagination about how Paul had probably gotten stuck talking to that one tweaker all the guys joked about, the girl who was smokin’ hot except for her horrible teeth. “She’s fine—I mean, fiii-iiiine—as long as she keeps her mouth shut,” they all said. But what reason did he have to lie?
He wasn’t the secret-keeper, after all.
This wasn’t about placing blame, Dr. Strasser pointed out. It was about identifying the reasons for their own behaviors and then resolving the issues there. Treating the cause rather than the symptoms.
Speaking of secret-keepers, was that Scott Smith right here in Juniper Station, sliding his lanky body onto a stool a few seats down? Carefully, trying not to let him see that she noticed him, Josie looked at him through her lowered eyelashes.
It is him. Why does he keep popping up?
The teeny tiny part of Josie that had always thought Scott might be her soul mate raised her arms in victory. He keeps popping up because you’re meant to talk to him. Maybe even have drinks with him.
The rest of her, the sensible part of her, smacked the other part of her on the forehead. Shut up, dummy. He’s probably here meeting someone for drinks. You’re the one in a completely different place than you’d usually be.
Josie angled her body away from Scott, placing her elbow on the bar so her back was to him. She heard him order. Scotch on the rocks with an extra ice cube, as always.
See? People don’t change, Josie.
Within a minute, she heard his voice close to her ear.
“So, I guess we’re going to have drinks together after all.”
She sighed in response, and didn’t turn around.
“What’s the matter? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“I was just here for some alone time,” she said. “Some thinking time. I didn’t expect to run into anyone.”
He didn’t get the message, despite the sparkling clarity. He slid into the stool right next to hers.
“Can we talk for a few minutes? For old times’ sake?”
Finally, Josie turned to face him. “The old times are over.”
“But don’t you like to remember them fondly?”
“I remember them fondly, when I do thin
k about them, but to tell you the truth, I don’t think about them very often.”
“You know, you broke my heart when you married Paul.”
You broke my heart when you told Blair Upton I meant nothing to you, that our making out that day outside the auditorium was a fluke.
Wow, she hadn’t recalled that part of the memory until just now. After whichever assembly they had been headed to that day Blair caught them kissing, she overheard Scott and Blair talking in the office during recess. Yelling, actually. It was quite heated, if she remembered correctly.
Blair said something about how unprofessional it was of Josie and Scott to be romantically involved, and that she should report his behavior to the school board. Scott responded that they weren’t romantically involved. He said the kiss was a fluke, that they were talking and it just happened. He went so far as to say Josie rubbed him the wrong way. She was brash and harsh and not even that good-looking.
For a moment, standing outside the office, Josie felt steam coming out of her ears. How dare he say something like that, when they were so in love? Yes, they had agreed they couldn’t continue a relationship once school started, but it had all been so distressing, so unfortunate. Because they cared about each other. Josie wanted more than anything to knock on the office door and give both Blair, the interfering bitch, and Scott, the spineless bastard, a big piece of her mind.
But something stopped her.
It was probably that stupid voice in her head, the one that thought they were soul mates.
It said, He’s just saying these things to protect both of you. He knows you want to be a principal someday, and he wants to move into district administration. Of course he is saying these things. You’d be offended if he wasn’t. He doesn’t mean them.
But a pattern was emerging, and Josie was starting to see it clearly. Scott Smith said whatever he needed to, whenever he needed to. He was a chameleon. As an audience to his carefully-crafted monologues, you never knew when he was telling the truth and when he wasn’t.