The Marriage Intervention

by Hilary Dartt

  From the identical looks of disgust on their faces, though, she knew they weren’t amused. Not even slightly.

  ***

  “Ohmygosh I just have to say,” Summer said, clapping her hands together in front of her chest and laughing a bit wildly, “I feel like I should be drumming my fingers together and saying, in a witchy voice, ‘Well, well, well, what do we have here?’”

  “It’s the thrill of the hunt, is it?” Josie said. She could feel the heat of humiliation making its way up the back of her neck.

  Delaney giggled and Summer answered, still in a witchy voice, “No, no, no, my dear girl! It’s the thrill of the capture!”

  Josie closed her eyes, wishing she could disappear.

  “What are you guys doing here?”

  “Spying on you, of course,” Delaney said. “You didn’t think you’d get away with doing The Marriage Intervention without us infringing on your privacy at least once, did you?”

  “You don’t trust me,” Josie said.

  “Should we?” Summer and Delaney said.

  “This would never stand up in police work.”

  “Good thing we’re not police,” Summer said.

  Delaney interrupted her: “But we are very good investigators. We got that photo evidence you wanted. You can thank us later.”

  Josie opened her mouth to ask how they’d gotten the evidence, and what the photos were of, but Summer held up a hand. “We’re your best friends, Josie,” she said. “Which also means we can tell you to go out there, right now, and tell Scott Smith to go home.”

  “What will I tell him?”

  “Oh, I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Delaney said. “He saw us come in. He’ll know.”

  Josie felt her whole body droop.

  “And if you must tell him something, stick with your old standby,” Summer said.

  “Just tell him you have a yeast infection,” both girls said, their voices rising in hilarity.

  I can’t believe I told Delaney to use that as an emergency escape plan on awful dates. I hate myself. I should have known it would come back to bite me.

  Josie knew better than to stall or argue. If the girls had any communication with Scott, she risked exposing the whole personal training issue.

  “You guys are having way too much fun with this,” Josie said. She pushed open the bathroom door and went to tell Scott the date was over.

  ***

  Unlike Paul, Scott did not insist on paying for dinner. Josie couldn’t tell whether he was hurt or angry or both, but when she walked back into the dining room and told him she had to cut the evening short, he put his napkin on the bench seat next to him and left without saying another word … and without throwing down a couple of bills.

  While Summer and Delaney waited in the car, Josie paid for the meal. They’d come out of the bathroom as soon as Scott left, and Josie figured they probably followed him to the parking lot to make sure he was actually leaving. They had the audacity to follow her home and right into the house, she assumed because they wanted to run interference if she’d made a secret plan to meet Scott there. Her dinner date with Scott had shown poor judgment, but she wasn’t that foolish.

  “We think you need to get a puppy,” Delaney said the moment Josie shut the door behind them. Josie had planned to bring up the photographic evidence of Blair and Scott, but Delaney’s announcement brought her up short.

  “What?”

  “We think you need to get a puppy,” Summer said.

  “I heard. I just don’t know what that has to do with anything,” Josie said. She put her keys in the bowl on the entry table, and walked into the kitchen with the girls trailing behind her.

  She poured herself a glass of wine, not that she needed another beverage after the Margarita binge during dinner. Automatically, she gestured to the bottle to ask if Summer or Delaney wanted a glass, then laughed, not kindly, when she remembered they were both pregnant.

  “You guys are going to have new babies soon. What do I need a puppy for? I can just increase my auntie responsibilities. I’ll have to babysit while you and Jake honeymoon, Delaney.”

  Summer shook her head. “You need supervision. And a puppy is the best answer. Thursday, instead of going to Rowdy’s for Happy Hour, we’re going to the shelter. It’s final. Now, shall we watch a movie?”

  Josie shook her head. “Fine,” she said. “But first tell me about the photo evidence you collected.”

  Delaney practically squealed. She clapped her hands together. “You would be so impressed with our spying skills,” she said.

  “You would,” Summer said. “Definitely.”

  “Well, don’t hold out on me!”

  “So,” Summer said. “We went into the school just before the kids’ lunch time. You know how the office ladies are never in there just before lunch?”

  Josie nodded and made a “hurry up” motion with her hand.

  Delaney picked up where Summer left off. “So we went in, really quietly, and we saw them! That snotty woman was in Scott’s office, and they were totally making out.”

  “This happened on your first try?” Josie said. This was the kind of luck that made her suspicious.

  “Oh, no,” Delaney said. “That was, like, our third or fourth trip in there.”

  “Anyway,” Summer said, “I pretended to be waiting for the office ladies while Delaney stood behind me and pretended to text people. But really, she was taking photos through the window.”

  “Well, text them to me!” Josie said, although she didn’t really want to see them.

  “Not to worry,” Delaney said. “It’s already been taken care of. I don’t think Blair Upton will bother you again. Now, as Summer said, shall we watch a movie?”

  “Wait. What did you do?” Josie asked.

  “So, it was kind of infantile,” Summer said. “But it was Delaney’s idea.”

  Delaney shrugged. “It was. So remember in junior high, people would write those chain letters and they’d cut words out of magazines and paste them on the paper so no one would recognize their handwriting?”

  When Josie nodded, Delaney said, “Well I did that!”

  She looked so proud of herself Josie chuckled.

  “What?” Delaney said. “It was genius. I cut out a bunch of words and letters and glued them onto a piece of paper. ‘You’ve been spotted, and you’ve been warned. Hypocrisy doesn’t look good on you. Neither does jealousy. Neither does the shade of pink you’re wearing in these photos. Bring up Scott’s relationship with Josie and these pictures go viral.’”

  “That should do it,” Josie said.

  Delaney nodded. All three of them dissolved into laughter. They doubled over, giggling like teenagers.

  When they finally gained control of themselves, Josie said, “You guys are better than a strawberry shake.”

  The analogy had been born after Delaney suffered through massive humiliation in junior high when her crush told their entire class she’d asked him out—and then pronounced that there was no way he’d ever go out with her. Summer had insisted on going out for shakes, and Delaney wondered aloud what was wrong with her. “You’re better than a strawberry shake,” Summer told her.

  Now, Delaney opened the fridge and said, “Summer, we should have included stocking the fridge in Josie’s intervention. There’s nothing to eat in here.”

  Josie, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, pulled out a bag of popcorn and handed it to Delaney. “Make me some popcorn and I’ll dig out some green olives, you weirdos.”

  ***

  Just as “Legally Blonde” ended, Paul texted Josie: Try again for dinner? Tomorrow at The Blue Fish?

  She texted back: Sure.

  Of course, before they left for the evening, Summer and Delaney had to look at her phone to verify that she was really communicating with Paul, and not Scott.

  “I can’t show up to babysit you tomorrow,” Summer said to Josie as they stood in the doorway. “So please behave yourself.”


  “I will,” Josie said. “Promise.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “So how do you feel about expanding our family?”

  Paul nearly choked on the guacamole-covered chip he’d just put in his mouth and Josie wished for a margarita despite having sworn them off after this morning’s hangover. She was far too old for hangovers.

  She was slightly offended he choked on a chip over the thought of having children, but she decided not to latch onto that particular angle. She let him off the hook for now.

  “Geez, Paul.” She hoped her tone sounded light and humorous. “I was talking about a puppy. How do you feel about getting a puppy?”

  “A puppy?”

  “You know, four legs, puppy breath, soft fur. A puppy,” she said.

  “Dog hair, accidents, fleas,” he said. “Sounds like pure heaven.”

  “Paul! Puppies are so cute!”

  “Where did you get this idea all of a sudden?” Paul wanted to know. “Wait. Don’t answer. I’ll bet Summer and Delaney concocted this spectacular idea.”

  Josie grinned. As always, he had an unerring knack for reading her.

  “They did,” she said slowly. “But it’s a good idea, right? I’m lonely.”

  “Remember when you and Summer took over Delaney’s love life? And remember how you guys came up with all these good ideas for making her life better? Is that what this is? It reeks of some kind of … intervention.”

  This time, she laughed. Maniacally.

  “It is, isn’t it?” he said. “They think this will be, like, I don’t know, a toddler step toward having a real, actual baby. Or something.”

  Josie was relieved he didn’t know the intervention wasn’t baby-related. That was almost normal. If he knew how personal it was, he’d probably be angry. Instead of answering, Josie shrugged.

  “Fine. Get a freakin’ puppy.”

  She smiled at him.

  “Stop grinning like that,” he said. “You’re freaking me out.”

  ***

  “Let’s talk about names!” Josie said. “How about Harry?”

  Paul shook his head. “I don’t care what you name it. Name it Penelope for all I care.”

  “I’m glad you’re so invested in our first fur child,” Josie said.

  “I’ll have to meet him or her before I become invested.”

  The conversation lulled. Josie looked at the tabletop. “Paul, when are you coming home?”

  She hated the desperation in her voice.

  He looked down, ran a finger around the edge of his water glass. The server came and took their plates.

  “I don’t know, Josie. I mean, I want to come home, spend every evening with you. I miss you. I miss the hell out of you. But has anything really changed? Not only am I tired of feeling like I’m under the microscope all the time, but you’re also still working with that Scott Smith asshole. And you’ve never even admitted you’ve done anything wrong.”

  Josie nodded. That was true. She started to speak. She told herself it was to apologize, but she wasn’t exactly sure where she was going. Paul cut her off.

  “Do you know what last night was about? Last night, we waited on the highway for a drug dealer who has brought hundreds of pounds of meth into our county over the past couple of years. Hundreds of pounds, Josie. You know how much it takes to get high? Like two tenths of a gram. You know what hundreds of pounds can do? You know those kids in your class who never have their homework done or their papers signed? The ones who come to school filthy every day, their fingernails longer than yours because their parents haven’t even looked at them in the past week? The ones who fall asleep at their desks and always look just this side of awake?”

  She nodded again. The waiter dropped the bill on the table.

  When he walked away, Paul continued. “Those are the kids affected by this stuff. The guy we hooked last night had four kids. Cute as fucking buttons. They were all in the car. Wide awake at midnight. Sitting on top of packaged meth. These big eyes, just staring at me. It was a school night! The meth this guy was bringing in, it was going to people who live in Juniper. People with kids. The parents of your students. We arrested him. We stopped him. We removed that scumbag from the streets. We prevented thousands of people from getting high, driving around high. You can’t sit there and tell me that’s not important, Josie. These are people in our own town. Students in your class.”

  Not for the first time in recent weeks, Josie felt like bursting into tears.

  “It’s not that I don’t think it’s important,” she said, casting around for the right words. “It’s just that I want to be more important.”

  She saw him inhale, as if he were preparing a serious response. This time, she cut him off. “I know I’m important to you. And I know you expect me to understand that. But I guess, just once in a while, I’d like to come first.”

  “You mean, like, so we could have a movie night?”

  “Let’s keep this civil, Paul. You know that’s not what I mean. It’s not that a movie night is particularly important. All your late nights and call-outs have a cumulative effect. One, on its own, is not that big of a deal. But when it’s the fifth time you’ve bailed on me in a month, a movie night becomes a big deal. It feels huge.”

  “Have you talked to Dr. Strasser about this?” Paul said.

  Josie shook her head. All at once, she felt exhausted. Time for a change of topic. “I haven’t talked to him about getting a puppy, either.”

  “You want a puppy, get a puppy,” Paul said.

  “But I want you to bond with it. When are you coming home?”

  “I’ll come home in a couple of weeks. I just need a little more time. And I need a commitment from you that you’re ready to make a change.”

  “I am committed, Paul. That’s why I’m doing this whole Marriage Intervention thing. Because I’m committed to making things work.”

  “Ha!” he said, pointing at her with the butter knife he hadn’t used. “I knew it!”

  Josie put her head down on the table.

  “So, they’re making over our marriage, huh?” he said.

  When she didn’t answer, he laughed. “Does this makeover include more frequent hot sex?”

  “You’ll be happy to know that it does,” she said.

  He laughed out loud, a short sound that punctuated the conversation. Josie felt herself smiling.

  “Well, let’s get to it,” Paul said.

  ***

  It felt so good to have Paul back in the house.

  They moved around the kitchen together, their bodies in sync as she dropped ice cubes into glasses and poured them drinks and he put away the leftovers and cut up limes for garnish.

  Of course he loved her. Of course she was important to him. If not, then why did being together feel so natural, so right, so much like clockwork? Josie cringed when they walked into the bedroom, wondering if Paul would notice the dirty laundry she’d left on the floor. Yesterday’s blouse lay crumpled next to the bed, and the past few days’ underwear was piled next to the hamper.

  “When the cat’s away,” he said.

  He then proceeded to peel her clothes off, one article at a time, in slow, deliberate movements that left her shivering with anticipation. He made a big show of dropping each item into the laundry hamper, and by the time she was undressed, she was giggling and simultaneously aching for him to touch her.

  She began to undress him, flinging his clothes across the bedroom so they landed like so many decorations. His shirt draped over a chair, his pants over the headboard, and his underwear over the lampshade.

  They stood facing each other. Paul framed Josie’s face with his hands and kissed her so gently she thought she’d faint. She put her hands on Paul’s waist and he trailed his up and down her sides, calming her and revving her up so that by the time he led her to the bed her body was warm honey and her insides were humming.

  They made love slowly. Despite the fact that Josie felt like she was starving
for this moment, desperate for the nourishment of her husband’s body, she took her time, feasting on his mouth, tasting his skin, savoring it.

  He did the same, and when they finished, she felt completely undone. They lay facing each other, and Paul gently tucked Josie’s hair behind her ear.

  Then, without any warning at all, she felt tears pool in her eyes.

  “Was it that bad?” Paul asked.

  He was joking, but she could see he was concerned.

  “No,” Josie said. “It was that good.”

  “You know, I think that’s the first time my mad lovemaking skills have ever moved a woman to tears.”

  Josie laughed. “Congratulations. I’m glad I could be here for it.”

  “Seriously,” he said. “What’s the matter?”

  She took a shaky breath. “I just keep thinking about how I screwed up and I wish I could take so much of it back.”

  Her voice had become almost a wail.

  Paul said, “We can move forward from here. I’ll come back home. I promise. When the time is right.”

  Suddenly, Josie felt a surge of panic. How would she know when the time was right? What if the time was never right? What if the time was right, now, and he was missing it?

  “Don’t look so panicked,” he said. “I’ve got to help you raise Penelope, don’t I?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Thursday afternoon, the sun shone hot in the sky and Josie squinted as she got out of her car to stand with Delaney in the animal shelter’s parking lot. Summer was the last to arrive, and when her kids tumbled out of the car in a jumble of swords and untied shoelaces, Josie clucked her tongue just like her mother would have done.

  “You know I love you, Summer,” she said, “but I’m not sure bringing the kids was a smart move. You know you’re going home with a puppy, right? You cannot have brought all four kids with you and seriously expect to drive away without an extra body in the car. A wiggly, hairy one.”

  “I had to bring them,” Summer said. “No choice. Derek had a job interview. Last minute.”