The Marriage Intervention

by Hilary Dartt

  “You guys. Your faces are so comical. I’m fine.” She sniffed. “No, really. I am. I’m just so overwhelmed.”

  With that declaration came a fresh round of tears. Josie and Delaney exchanged panicked glances.

  “Oh, stop worrying,” Summer said.

  Delaney looked around. “I think I see a milkshake place at the next exit. Should we stop?”

  They pulled back onto the highway, exited and then drove through a fast food restaurant. Back on the road, Delaney said, “So fill us in. What’s going on?”

  “It’s the band,” Summer said.

  Josie looked at Delaney, but Delaney’s eyes were glued to the road. Would anything band-related cause Summer to act the way she’d been acting lately? There had to be more to this story. Is she lying?

  “The band, like The Sweets?” Josie said.

  Summer nodded. “It’s just that ever since we played at The Blue and the rodeo dance, the girls want to play even more gigs. But I just can’t. I really want to, but I just can’t. It’s all too much.”

  She broke down into a full-out wail. Josie wished she had Summer’s knack for always knowing what to say.

  “Could you just play some of the gigs?” Delaney asked.

  “That’s a good idea,” Josie said. “I mean, you don’t have to go to every single one of them. The band is supposed to be something fun for you, right?”

  “It is,” Summer said. “And no, I can’t do just some of the gigs. I mean, they need a full-time lead singer. Kind of important, you know?”

  “Maybe you could take a break?” Josie said, hoping her voice sounded gentle. With her luck she’d send Summer over the edge, straight to a full-out breakdown.

  Summer nodded and her expression remained serious. “I know, you’re right.”

  “But of course you’re sad,” Josie said. “I would be too.”

  No one spoke for a little while, but Josie’s mind was going a million miles an hour. Summer rarely broke down. And if she did, it wasn’t about something as trivial as the band. It’s her secret to keep, Josie reminded herself. Her thoughts wandered to Paul, then, and to the kiss with Scott, and by the time the girls made their second pit stop in just four hours, Josie had had plenty of time to think.

  “I’ve really messed up with Paul,” she said as they pulled away from the seedy gas station where they’d each used about a gallon of hand sanitizer after going to the bathroom.

  Neither Summer nor Delaney answered, and Josie took their silence as affirmation.

  “I need to fix things,” she went on, “but I have no idea how. I already apologized. I’ve given him his space. But I want him back and I don’t know what to do.”

  Out the car window, golden hills rolled by, dotted with black and brown cows and lined with apple orchards.

  “You guys don’t know what to say either?” Josie said.

  “You did mess up,” Delaney said quietly.

  Normally, Josie would respond with a sarcasm-infused, “Thanks, Delaney,” but this time she waited. Summer was nodding, but still, she didn’t speak.

  “I could use some help, here,” she said after another several miles. Amber waves of grain and all that, she thought.

  Finally, Summer spoke. “You messed up,” she said. “You really did. Delaney and I can’t tell you how to fix it. We don’t have to tell you that you never should have kept the Scott Smith secret from Paul, and that you really, really never should have kissed him in your house. The house you share with Paul. Your husband.”

  Oh, God. She’s doing the mom thing again.

  Just like a teenager caught coming in drunk after curfew, Josie felt ashamed. If they’d been standing in a room, she would have made her eyes downcast, staring at her toes, shrugging her shoulders. But for now, they were in the car, so she focused on the road and kept her hands in her lap.

  Summer continued. “But because you have messed up, and so royally, too, you’ve got to fix this, Not us. So go with your bad self, woman. Fix that shit up. Just know we can’t save you on this one.”

  It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. But Summer’s advice was spot-on.

  “You’re right,” Josie said. “I made the mistakes and now I have to set things right.”

  The next several hours gave her plenty of time to think, and by the time they pulled up at her house, she had formed a pretty decent plan.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Scott Smith lived in a Craftsman-Style bungalow on Cottonwood Avenue, set back away from the street. A huge Sycamore tree stood in the center of the velvety lawn, and a flower bed lined the path from the driveway to the house. Of course, Scott Smith despised gardening and hired a gardener, all the while professing his love for “putting my hands in the dirt.” Another secret, Josie thought as she walked toward his front door the day after returning from her trip with Summer and Delaney.

  When they first met, Josie daydreamed about living in this adorable house, quaint and sophisticated. She imagined turning the tidy flower bed into a wild English garden. She imagined hanging Halloween decorations from the branches of the Sycamore. She planned out the light-up Christmas scene she would design on the lawn.

  Scott came out the door before Josie had the chance to knock. It was spring break, and he wore gray sweatpants and a maroon t-shirt instead of the slacks and button-up shirt his Mondays typically called for. His socks, as always, were pristine. Thick and white as if he’d just taken them out of the package. Josie’s mind flashed to an image of Paul’s socks: holey and off-white from wear.

  For about the millionth time, her entire body flooded with a deep affection for Paul, for all the little quirks that set him apart. The socks, yes, and the obsession with garlic ice cream. The need to have his shoulders covered and his feet bare when he slept.

  His smile wary, Scott motioned for Josie to follow him inside.

  “We can talk out here,” she said.

  They sat down on the wicker chairs on the small front porch.

  “Josie—” he said at the same time as she said, “Scott—” and they both stopped and laughed awkwardly.

  “I’m really sorry about—” he said at the same time as she said, “I need to talk—” and they both laughed again.

  That was another thing about Scott: he had difficulty just letting her speak. “Let me go first,” Josie said.

  When he nodded, she said, “I need to talk to you.”

  “About the other day?”

  “Kind of. About … everything. Between us. About how you’re always there, complimenting my wardrobe or laughing at my jokes. About how I’m always walking past your office, checking to see if you’re noticing me. We had a good run, but it’s time to end things. For good. No more talking, no more flirting, no more secretive smiles.”

  “Josie, I—”

  “Let me finish.” She held up a hand, like she’d do if one of her students interrupted her. “They say everyone comes into your life for a reason, and I believe you were there to help me cope with my mom’s death. At the same time, I never really found closure with it. So I think our relationship became kind of a stand-in. If I still had you, I still had her. But I’ve dealt with it now. And I’m ready to say good-bye to both of you.”

  Scott nodded, finally leaving some open space in the air. In the span of time that followed, Josie was surprised she didn’t feel sad or nostalgic. She didn’t secretly wish for him to reach out and touch her face or ask her in for a night cap which really meant come in and have sex.

  Finally, he said, “I understand. It hurts. You’ve been such a big part of my life for so long.”

  Another lie. This time, to himself.

  “I haven’t, really,” she said. “I mean, we’ve known each other. But we’re essentially co-workers, and have been since I got married.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you’ve occupied a big part of my mental space.”

  Normally, she would make some quip, like, “It’s only natural,” but today, she said, “It’s
time to move on, Scott. I need to focus on my marriage and you need to find a woman who can love you back. I think you and I both know who that might be.”

  He looked surprised for a moment, his jaw dropping and his eyebrows raising, but she plowed ahead. “I can’t love you back. It may have seemed like I could, to both of us, but I can’t.”

  She saw him watching her as she drove away, and felt an almost giddy sense of relief. Just before she turned off his street, he lifted a hand in a half-wave. She couldn’t help but notice he looked a bit defeated.

  ***

  Josie’s next mission: to find a bridal gown for Delaney.

  She returned to Froth, where Debra Mills greeted her with a cup of tea instead of a glass of champagne.

  “I’m not the one who’s knocked up,” Josie said, and when Debra only smiled, Josie took a demure sip of her tea and followed her to the back room.

  “So we need something for a pregnant bride, huh?” Debra said. She pulled several books off shelves and put them on the table, expertly flipping them open to reveal a dozen dresses with empire waists.

  “I managed to find a location for the wedding in just a few weeks,” Josie said. “So she won’t be, you know, like, big or anything.”

  Debra raised her eyebrows.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. But these,” she said, motioning to the dresses, “will fit her better than the ones she tried on last time. Way better.”

  This time, Debra laughed. “You’re a straight shooter, you know that?”

  “Not as much as you’d think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Josie surprised herself by going full disclosure on Debra. She explained everything that transpired recently with Paul and Scott.

  “I still remember your wedding,” Debra said. “I remember how you and Paul looked at each other. It was so obvious you were deeply in love. Forget that cliché about him not taking his eyes off you. He’d gaze at you, and then he’d look at everyone else, like he was asking them, ‘Can you believe my luck?’ It was heartwarming. I always tell people about that.”

  For some reason, the description surprised Josie. “You noticed that?”

  “Of course,” Debra said. “Everyone did. You’d be a fool to miss it.”

  Josie remembered looking at Paul that day. She remembered feeling as if she was seeing him for the first time, viewing him through that soft lens soap operas use, with those strong beams of heavenly light that shoot down from between thick clouds.

  Every time they made eye contact, they beamed at each other, like, “Can you believe our luck?”

  “I knew from the moment I saw you, that was a match made to last,” Debra said. “So you’d better do whatever you can to fix it.”

  ***

  No matter how long they’d been married, Josie sometimes felt surprised when she saw Paul out of context. He was so good-looking, like a model for athletic clothes. The cheekbones, the profile, the muscles. He sat at a table inside Umbrella Coffee, and Josie noted with satisfaction that he’d ordered her an iced latte and had set it in what would be her spot when she arrived. She stood just inside the door, admiring him, praying it wouldn’t be the last time she had this opportunity.

  When an older couple opened the door with a little too much gusto, Josie made an involuntary sound and Paul looked up. She walked to the table quickly, pretending she’d just arrived.

  “Thank you for meeting with me,” she said.

  “Sure,” Paul said. “Any time.”

  Really? How about every day?

  Josie sat down, feeling uncomfortable. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Of course.”

  “How are you?” she asked, then immediately felt stupid. Of course he was fine. He looked fine. He looked great. He looked edible.

  “I’m okay,” he said. “Work’s going well.”

  She waited for him to ask how she was doing, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked at her expectantly. Seconds ticked by.

  “So. I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said.

  He inclined his head, inviting her to elaborate.

  “I got a visit the other day from some deputies.”

  Paul nodded. Of course, he already knew. Josie took a deep breath.

  “I don’t want a divorce, Paul. I want to fix things.” He stared at her, and she went on. “I think I figured out why I felt so, um. So attached, I guess? To Scott.”

  Paul raised his eyebrows. It was an expression he made whenever they got into a debate, whenever she made a comment he found questionable. She had to suppress the urge to giggle, only because she felt self-conscious and uneasy. After taking a long sip of her latte, she told him about the revelation she’d had about her mom. About romance versus practicality. About Scott representing the former, and Paul representing the latter.

  “I’m afraid I’ve been terribly unfair to you,” she said. “I boxed you in. I put you firmly in the practicality column, neglecting the romantic aspects of your personality. And I’m so sorry for that. I did the same to Scott. But it was all for the sake of having that conversation with Mom.”

  Still, he didn’t speak. So she continued. “So I’m sorry. Okay? I’ve made my peace with Mom’s death, finally. I didn’t even realize that was missing. But I’ve done it. I’ve moved on. I’ve told Scott—with no kissing—that we aren’t anything more than professional acquaintances. And I feel so much better. So. I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to give things another try. To throw those (here she struggled to actually use the D-word) papers out and try again.”

  Paul nodded, a slow, thoughtful nod.

  “So?” she said.

  “It sounds like you’ve done some thinking,” he said. “And now I’ve got to do some, too.”

  It was better than a straight “No,” but worse than a “Yes,” which she had really hoped for.

  Better not to rush him.

  Although she did her best to play it cool, Josie felt her heart rate increasing. Her hands shook slightly as she reached for her coffee again.

  “All right,” she said. “That makes sense.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  It was Delaney’s wedding day, and Josie felt as jittery as a bride because she felt like Paul’s choice about whether to attend would signify whether their marriage would continue or not. Clouds like wisps of cotton streaked a sky so brilliantly blue it made Josie’s eyes hurt to look at it. Flowering apricot trees surrounded the gazebo, their shiny green leaves and fragile white blossoms showing off the best of spring.

  “Stunning,” Summer said to Delaney. “You look radiant.”

  She did. Pregnancy suited her, made her skin clear and luminescent, her eyes bright. And the gown Josie had selected showed off her tiny baby bump and her otherwise athletic figure.

  “You look like Mother Nature, herself,” Josie said.

  “Thanks, you guys,” Delaney said, hugging them both. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

  Hannah, too small to carry flowers, sat with Derek in the audience. Sarah stood with Luke and Nate, a protective arm around Luke, just in front of Delaney, ready to precede the bride down the aisle.

  “She’s been so sweet with him since she found out about his heart problem,” Summer said, “but I can’t help but wonder if that protective arm around him is also her way of keeping him still and quiet.” Now that Summer mentioned it, Josie thought, Luke did look a little like he had an itch in the middle of his back he couldn’t scratch. Sarah looked so stern and grown-up Josie chuckled.

  Guests began arriving and Josie nudged Delaney further behind the little screen they’d set up to keep anyone from seeing her.

  “You’re like the bridal police,” Delaney said, laughing. “I’m going to have to make you my nanny, you know. Structure, discipline, and just the right amount of love.”

  All three of them giggled.

  “Speaking of police,” Delaney said, but stopped cold when Summer elbowed her. “What?” she said.

 
“Hey, look at that!” Summer said to Delaney. “It’s Jake’s sister, Jenny. Remember when you thought he was cheating on you with her?”

  They all looked at the tall, sleek blonde who walked down the aisle to find her seat, already dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

  “Nice distraction, Summer,” Josie said. “But it’s okay. Dee, I’m not sure if Paul’s coming today. I’m sorry. I mean, when we first planned the wedding, I obviously put him down as my guest. He loves you almost as much as I do. But with everything that’s going on, I just don’t know whether he’ll come. But let’s not talk about that. This is your day, and I don’t want my own personal storm clouds rolling in to rain on this fantastic parade.”

  Just then, the harpist began playing her final song. When she finished, the kids would walk down the aisle, then the guys, then Summer and Josie. Finally, the DJ would play the bridal march. Delaney grabbed her best friends’ hands, and they all squeezed.

  The song ended and the guests quieted, shifting in their seats with anticipation. A few moments later, Jake stood at the altar, and there was a collective intake of breath.

  “This is it,” Josie whispered. She kissed Delaney on the cheek and walked down the aisle to wait. Summer followed her. Delaney really was stunning, and Josie looked quickly at Jake, whose face looked just as radiant as Delaney’s. Once the minister began to speak, Josie scanned the audience.

  Paul wasn’t there.

  ***

  Under a shower of birdseed and opalescent bubbles, to a symphony of cheers and cowbells, Mr. and Mrs. Jake and Delaney Rhoades left for their honeymoon, a week at a small but modern cabin in the White Mountains of northern Arizona.

  Josie was officially through with her bridesmaid duties, except for taking Delaney’s dress to be cleaned and packaged the following week. Summer rushed home, her four kids in tow and up way past their bedtimes, and when Josie climbed into her car, she let her primary bridesmaid duty, the most difficult one—cheerfulness—go.