Ten Million Reasons

by Heather Gray

  She shook her head, “No, really. Your home is fine. I can’t imagine living in a finer place.”

  “Okay. If you change your mind, you need to tell me.”

  “I know,” she answered. After a moment, she said, “Take me to my place, and I’ll pack some basics to bring to your house. If I put this off because it feels strange, I’ll never get it done.”

  “It’s your wedding day. Are you sure you want to spend it packing? We can do anything you want. Isn’t there anything special you’d like to do to mark the day?”

  “Don’t you mean our wedding day?”

  Richard chuckled and said, “I was led to believe that the wedding day is all about the bride. That it’s her day and hers alone.”

  Genevieve smiled at his words, but tension clutched her stomach. “My mom always said the wedding is just one day. It’s the marriage that really matters. I guess that’s kind of how I feel. Today is the first day of our marriage, and we ought to spend it doing something that will help move us toward that togetherness that comes with marriage.”

  Richard didn’t say anything, but he did take the interstate exit leading toward her house rather than his. When they got to her place, Genevieve asked him to go up into the attic and grab her luggage, which he did without complaint. Once he handed the last piece down to her, he descended from the attic and asked what else he could do. She set him to work ridding her fridge of anything that might spoil in the next week and then emptying the garbage cans in the house. Meanwhile, she packed as though she were going on an extended vacation. She’d never had a green thumb, so there were no plants to water, and she’d never taken to having pets, so there were no arrangements to be made. If all those animal magazine editors only knew!

  By day’s end, Genevieve was comfortably ensconced in a luxurious suite of rooms in Richard’s house. She had a bedroom, sitting room, bathroom, and dressing room all to herself. This suite has more square footage than my entire house!

  Richard was as solicitous as could be, but he seemed as much at a loss as she did. “I don’t want to rush things with you,” he said as he stood in the threshold of her suite to wish her a good night. “Take a couple days to settle in, and then we’ll figure out a good routine that works for both of us.” She nodded, not quite understanding what he meant, and then closed the door as he walked away.

  Genevieve moved across the floor until she stood in the middle of her bedroom. She ogled the giant bed, thick soft carpet, and beautifully appointed furniture. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to feel so alone on my wedding night,” she said. Then, sighing, she grabbed a pillow and blanket and went to sleep on the couch in the sitting room. That bedroom is way too big and empty. It’ll take a while to get used to it.

  Chapter Eight

  While Genevieve heard not a single word of the sermon, she did catch the numerous glances people cast her way. Or, rather, Richard’s way. Well, what did I expect? Some people gaped with obvious envy. With the exception of Max, everyone in her family did a double-take upon seeing them together. She’d never brought a man to church before. Jake was fit to be tied as he drilled her with his don’t-you-dare-try-to-get-out-of-this look.

  Genevieve grabbed Richard’s arm and practically dragged him out of church while the closing hymn was still being sung. She knew her family had questions, but she’d rather answer them in private.

  “I regularly face boardrooms full of corporate giants. I’ve been in congressional meetings and even sat in with the joint-chiefs-of-staff a couple of times. Yet here I am, going to meet a loving family, and I feel like I’d rather face a firing squad.” When Genevieve said nothing, he added, “This is where you’re supposed to tell me how wonderful they are and reassure me that I have no need to worry.”

  With a mirthless laugh, she said, “I’m too busy wishing for my own firing squad to comfort you. Sorry.”

  Richard took the scenic route, and Genevieve appreciated the delay. Lost in thought, she glanced down at the ring on her finger. He’d told her it was temporary, that they would go ring shopping when they had a chance. As she studied the delicate pattern of the band, she hoped he forgot about it. The ring had belonged to his grandmother, and the patina of age showed it to advantage. The band was gold with a filigree overlay in silver, diamonds nestled into each curve and turn of the intricate design. Like her husband, the ring was neither showy nor garish. Rather, its elegance was so obvious it need not be stated.

  Genevieve lifted her eyes from the ring on her hand as Richard pulled up to her parents’ house. The crowded driveway told her the rest of her family was already there. He opened her door and gave her a hand out of the car. They both stood by his car, not quite ready to go in. Eventually, he said, “We’re in this together, right? You’re not going to throw me to the wolves, are you?”

  Genevieve graced him with a smile and said, “We’re in this together. I won’t throw you to the wolves as long as you don’t throw me under the bus.”

  “Not a chance,” he said. Then, “Is there a bus nearby? I want to plot my escape route in case things get hairy in there.” As the two mounted the front steps, Genevieve reached out and took Richard’s hand in hers.

  We have to present a united front. That’s all. It’s not because I want to hold his hand. Honest. A nervous giggle escaped her as Richard reached for the doorbell button.

  ****

  “You’re what!” Jake’s bellow was loud enough to make the windows rattle and the baby cry. Genevieve stood there next to Richard, and regarded the family before her. Her mother had not even bothered to start putting food out on the table. The entire family had all been lying in wait, marking time until she and Richard arrived so they could demand an explanation. They’d known something was up.

  I’ve always been transparent.

  “We’re married,” she repeated.

  Pandemonium broke out as everyone began yelling at once. Maureen was telling her what a fool she was to jump into marriage. Jake was yelling the loudest, but nothing he said made any sense. He only talks nonsense when he’s good and angry.

  After a moment, Genevieve’s father got up from his seat, strode purposefully over to where they stood, and reached out. Richard shook his hand, and the yelling in the room instantly stopped. Deathly quiet surrounded them as everyone stared, waiting for her father’s reaction. Turning to his wife, he said, “I think Genevieve wants to help you put lunch out, dear.”

  What she was about to say flew in the face of all the respectful obedience drilled into her since she’d been a child. “Only if Richard can come,” she said to her father. He looked at her sharply, his surprise evident. She expected him to correct her as he would have when she’d been a child. The moment stretched into eternity for Genevieve as she stood there waiting. Finally nodding his consent, her father gave her a look that only she could see. I think he’s proud of me for not backing down. Before anyone could stop them, Genevieve rushed toward the kitchen, dragging Richard along behind her.

  As they stepped through the door, she said, “I told you I wouldn’t abandon you.”

  Looking rattled, Richard said, “You’re going to have to go to the bathroom eventually.” Genevieve laughed and felt the tension inside her abate. She lifted her eyes to see her mother watching them both closely.

  “Alright, then,” Mom said, “I think it’s time we get started. Gen, show Richard where the dishes are, and he can set the table.”

  A few moments later, Richard peeked out into the living room and reported back to Gen, “They’re grilling Max.”

  “You know Max?” Mom asked.

  “Richard had lunch with Max and me after his cross-country tryout a few weeks back,” Genevieve said.

  “Oh?” was all her mother said.

  Before much longer they were all seated at the dinner table and passing food around. Jake held a baby in one arm and was using his other hand to feed a toddler who was sitting at his side. Genevieve would have to thank her sister-in-law later. She’d once tol
d Gen that whenever she wanted to make Jake be quiet, she simply put a baby in his arms. He never raised his voice when he was holding a baby. Maybe that's why they've given me so many nieces and nephews.

  Unfortunately, by the time the meal concluded, said baby had fallen asleep, and Jake went to go lay her down for a nap in one of the bedrooms. When he returned to the dining table, he asked Jenny and Max to take the other kids out into the back yard to play. Then, rolling his sleeves up like some brash detective in a b-rated cop movie, he said, “So when did you two meet?”

  “A while ago,” Genevieve answered.

  “Gen…” Jake’s voice was threatening, but it was hard to take him seriously when she’d just seen him cradling one child while gently tending to the needs of the other. “This is the guy, right? The one you had ice cream with?”

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Richard’s eyebrows lift in surprise. Jake stood up and leaned forward, resting his palms on the dining table, and reiterated, “I want answers.”

  “I have no answers to give you,” she said. “We met. We spent time together. We decided to get married. We got married. Here we are. That’s all there is to it.”

  Jake jumped up from his seat and yelled, “That is not all there is to it. I want to know what’s going on! You met this guy, what, two weeks ago?”

  Richard calmly stood, pushed his chair into its spot at the table, and faced Jake. The two men stood there, one looking like a bull sharpening its horns, the other looking more like a matador. A chasm, the table stood between them as they faced off. Without blinking, Richard said in a deceptively soft voice, “You will not speak to my wife like that.”

  Jake, who did not know how to back down, looked ready to charge right over the table. Richard stalled that action when he said, “If you have a problem with me, you take it up with me. If you’re angry, you take it out on me. If you have a bone to pick, I’m your man. I will not, however, allow you to speak to my wife with anger or disrespect. She deserves better.” His voice dropping even further, he added, “You know I’m right.”

  When the silence in the room grew taut with unsaid words, Genevieve stood up and pushed her chair in. Standing next to Richard, she said, “I’m sorry to have disappointed you.” Addressing everyone, she added, “I gave this a lot of thought, and I sought God’s counsel just as I’ve always been taught. I know I’ve done the right thing.” Voice firm, she said, “I stand by my decision. And by my husband.” She again reached out and took his hand in her own. Richard gently tugged on her hand until she stood close beside him, arm touching arm.

  “Mark my words,” Maureen said, “you’re going to regret this.”

  “We simply want to understand,” said Mom, her voice scratchy with the unshed tears Genevieve could see in her eyes.

  “I know, Mom, and I’m sorry. You need to allow us some privacy. There is an explanation, but we need some time to settle in together as a family before we go opening our private life up for others to dig through.”

  When her mother started to protest, Genevieve said, “I’m sorry, Mom, I really am. This is the way we need it to be.” Turning to her husband of one day, she said, “It’s time for us to take our leave.”

  ****

  “You stepped in it good, Aunt Gen,” Max said as they ate lunch at the mall later in the week.

  “I did, didn’t I?” she commented.

  “Has he stayed as nice as that one day?”

  “Yeah,” Genevieve replied.

  “Is he good for you?”

  “I think he will be,” she answered.

  “Do you love him?”

  Genevieve watched Max. She knew this question was important. “Max, let me tell you something about love. Some people think it’s an emotion. Other people say it’s a choice. I say it’s a little of both. Richard has treated me with nothing but kindness and respect. He makes me laugh, and I look forward to seeing him. Whether or not I feel like I love him, I need to treat him with love. If I do, the emotions follow.” And sometimes the emotions race ahead of the actions.

  “I don’t get it,” was all the teen said.

  “It’s okay. I think you’ll understand when you’re older.”

  Max handed her an egg roll, which she quickly dunked in hot mustard. Before taking a bite, Genevieve asked him, “So how are things going with your folks?”

  He shrugged and reached for his drink. “Turns out the only reason I was able to make the cross-country team is because five people from the varsity team graduated last year.”

  She let him change the subject and asked, “Are you glad you joined?”

  Nodding, Max took a drink. When he put the cup down he pulled out the straw and began fiddling with it. “I’ve made some friends on the team. They usually keep up with training even in the off-season, running together at least once a week.”

  “That sounds like it might be fun,” she said, polishing off her eggroll. “Do you think you’ll try out for the team again next year?"

  "Yeah. I like the running, and I feel stronger since I started. Jenny says I’m in a better mood since joining the team, too.”

  “From what I’ve seen, you’re already a better runner than you were when you first tried out. You seem more confident in what you’re doing.” She’d been able to make it to a couple of his events and was impressed with the camaraderie among the team. It was a good fit for him. He seemed to be thriving in the environment.

  Putting the now mutilated straw down, Max said, “I was tired of being alone, and I blamed Mom and Dad whenever I got stuck at home by myself. Joining the team has taught me I can do something about it so I’m not bored all the time.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” It sounded like Max had more to say, but Genevieve didn’t want to push him.

  Moving on to the napkin, he folded it accordion style and then pinched one end and fanned out the rest. Concentrating on what he was doing with his hands, he said, “Yeah, it’s good. Maybe it’s a little bit like you said. Even if I don’t always feel it, I need to treat Mom and Dad with love.” He put the napkin down and picked up the fortune cookies, handing one to Genevieve.

  She smiled at him as she took the proffered dessert. “You’re one smart cookie, Max Wilson.”

  He rolled his eyes at her pun. “That was bad, Aunt Gen, even for you.” Then he polished off his cookie and asked, “Are you sure marrying him was the right choice?”

  Genevieve took a second to catch up with the swift change in topic. Once she did, she nodded and answered. “Yes. Absolutely certain.”

  “It’s not going to be easy. Not with our family, and not with the rest of the world either.” His wisdom far outpaced his years.

  “I know. Still, as long as I’ve got you on my side, I’ll be able to weather it fine.”

  Chapter Nine

  More than a month passed. Genevieve and Richard attended the next family luncheon. It was tense but not as explosive as their first had been. The life of the ultra-wealthy turned out to be more hectic than she had imagined. That shared meal with her family had been one of the few things they’d done together as husband and wife in the weeks since they'd wed.

  Most mornings Richard was gone to work before Genevieve got up. She was often immersed in her work when he got home. He fixed dinner, and she would join him for the meal. Then she tended to bury herself back in her work. Richard always stopped to say goodnight to her before he went to bed. Other than living in a bigger home and having someone there to cook meals for her, very little in her day-to-day life had changed. It was almost as though she’d never married at all.

  Genevieve knew they were heading in two different directions. Everything in her told her marriage wasn’t supposed to be this way. She didn’t, however, feel secure enough to go to him and tell him something needed to change. How do I tell him I feel so out of place that I’m sleeping on a couch in my sitting room rather than in my own bed? The bed still felt too big and empty to her. She hadn’t even brought any of her own
furnishings in so that she could make the space feel like her own. The very idea made her feel uncomfortable, like an intruder in Richard’s life.

  After a couple nights of restless tossing and turning, she woke up late one day, made herself a cup of coffee, and then went to sit on the back veranda of the house. It was time to have a heart-to-heart talk with her best friend. She’d been avoiding Him these past weeks, and her whole life felt out of synch because of it. In a comfortable chair, her mug in-hand, she said, "Alright, God. I’m here, and I’m listening now. I’m making a mess of the marriage You’ve given me, and I need Your help."

  A couple hours later, she rose from the chair on the veranda. Her coffee cup had long since been drained, and she was stiff from having sat there so long, but she felt better than she had in weeks.

  Following a quick shower, she made her way to the kitchen. It was time to make some changes in her marriage, and she knew just where to start. She rummaged through the cabinets and drawers until she found the ingredients to fix a simple spaghetti dinner. Richard was almost always home by six, so she planned her day in order to have a hot meal ready for him when he arrived.

  Six o’clock came and went with no sign of her husband. Genevieve didn’t give it too much thought. Traffic was unpredictable at best. The clock next ticked past seven o’clock, and she began to worry. When eight o’clock rolled around, she tried not to panic.

  Picking up her phone, she found him in her phonebook and pressed “dial.” Richard’s voice filled the silence. Genevieve began to speak to him only to realize it was a voice recording. Once she heard the beep, she said, “Richard, it’s Genevieve. It’s after eight, and you’re not home yet. I… I wondered where you were.”

  Tidying up the kitchen, she cleaned the dishes and put away the uneaten meal. She had always been a night owl and was often up until one or two in the morning, which was part of the reason she and Richard were always crossing paths rather than walking on the same one. When midnight came with still no sign of Richard and no return call, she didn’t know what to do. If he’s been in an accident, will anyone know to contact me? Do people even know he’s married?