Take 2 on Love

by Torrie Robles

  I’ve been writing for the past few years. At first, it was just something to do to fill the void of the kids growing up and not needing me as much. When they were younger, and Heath and I spent our weekends running them here and there for one function to the next, I’d craved the days when they wouldn’t be so involved, or they’d be able to drive themselves everywhere. But when all that came to fruition, I struggled with my newly found free time. Always wanting to write, I sat down one day when the house was silent and started on my first novel. I haven’t been able to stop since.

  She rolls her eyes. “I just don’t understand how he doesn’t see how much writing means to you?” She takes another drink of her margarita before picking at the stuffing for the wraps. “Writing is no small feat, babe, and you do it in spades. If you were my wife, I’d be shouting it from the rooftops that you’re a bad ass author. Gah! Men are selfish by nature, and he’s more selfish than most.”

  I pick at my food. “I think it’s because it’s something that he doesn’t relate to and I get that. I don’t relate to most of his hobbies. I mean, I’ve never even been rock climbing, but I ask how each of his trips went. He doesn’t ask anything about my writing. I’d like for him to maybe, I don’t know, show more enthusiasm. I typically get, ‘that’s great, babe,’ and that’s it. But it’s more than him not showing interest in my writing or any other hobbies I might stumble upon. Lately… I don’t know. There’s something off. Missing maybe.” Heath has always had his hobbies, things that he’s been into outside of us, and I’ve always supported that.

  “Like what?”

  “I wish I knew. Life takes a lot out of me, out of our marriage, and the kids are another hurdle altogether. I know I sound like I’m making excuses, and that I should be grateful for everything I have, but sometimes I can’t help but think back.”

  “Back when? Before the kids? When your lives were simpler?”

  “How can you tell if a person has fallen out of love–”

  “Don’t even go there, babe. Heath loves you. He loves his life and those kids, but all this could be settled if you took the time and talked to him. Ask him what’s been going on. It may be something simple.” She shrugs, taking another sip of her drink.

  “But maybe it’s not. Maybe it is something big, and he doesn’t want to tell me about it.” I push the plate of food away, not wanting to eat another bite. “Twenty years ago I never imagined I’d be here wondering about the state of my marriage.” I take a long pull of my cider, my throat suddenly feeling a little too dry.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. Those have never worked out in your favor in the past.” She tips her glass to me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Let me say one phrase…”

  My eyes roll, and I outwardly groan because I know what’s coming next.

  “Ten. Year. Anniversary.” Ruby puckers her lips and cocks an eyebrow.

  Heath had asked me to run to the office with him on a Thursday night—the day before our anniversary. I was already irritated because there had been no mention of any plans and it was our ten year. I was hurt that he possibly forgot and I was aggravated that he dragged me all the way to the office, in the cold. Little did I know that he had planned a huge party.

  At. His. Office.

  Here he put forth all this effort, and I was grumbling under my breath the entire car ride over there. I’d felt like a total ass.

  “What was I supposed to think? He hadn’t mentioned anything that year, and he always made a point to either take me to dinner or plan a weekend away. He did none of those things. Our anniversary was our night. The one time a year when we didn’t care if we spent too much at dinner, hell, earlier on in our marriage we would save for months just so we could enjoy a meal that didn’t come from a paper bag.”

  “Yes, that’s right, he always managed to do those things. And the one year he didn’t, you jumped to conclusions and thought he didn’t remember. The man was planning a surprise anniversary party for you. Because you jumped to conclusions, the surprise was ruined, and you felt like a dumb ass. I’ve never seen a man so embarrassed in front of a room of people in my life.”

  I hold my hands up in defeat. “But how many people plan a surprise anniversary party?”

  “Regardless, those are the things you have to remember,” she tells me.

  I hear Ruby’s voice as she continues to go on about her feelings on my marriage, but I start to tune her out as my gaze drifts to a couple in a small intimate booth across the room. The man’s body is leaning into his date as she tells him something. Maybe she’s discussing her day with him, maybe she’s ranting about a nasty coworker, but whatever she may be saying, he seems to be hanging on her every word. He reaches out and takes her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. The action has her blushing, dropping her head as a smile spreads across her face.

  “Hello, earth to Whitney.” Ruby snaps her fingers in front of my face.

  Blinking my eyes, I look at her. “Sorry.”

  “Dang girl, are you drunk or something?”

  “What? No, I’m not drunk.” My gaze flicks back to the couple. My chest tightens because I miss what those people have. I miss getting a reaction out of Heath. I miss so much from my marriage. “I was watching that couple over there.” I slyly signal with my head. “That right there is what I’m talking about. Look at him—he’s totally captivated by what she’s telling him. He can’t seem to get enough. If I’m being totally honest with you, Heath’s lack of enthusiasm hurts.”

  Ruby flicks her hand towards the couple. “Who? Those two over there? The young couple? Please, I’m sure they haven’t thought past how good their sex is going to be once they get out of this joint. I’m sure he’s only looking that interested because he knows if he does, he’ll get laid. You and Heath are so past those days.”

  “Har-har. You need your own station on Comedy Central.” I take a breath, trying to make sure I don’t sound too put out by the thoughts that have been plaguing me. “Does Steve pay attention while you’re talking to him?”

  “Bitch, please. That man knows he’s to give me one hundred percent of his attention when my mouth is moving, or his ass is on the couch with the dogs, and my babies do not like to share the furniture.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen any interest on Heath’s face when I’m talking to him. He doesn’t usually give me any verbalization that he’s even heard what I’ve been talking about, and his face goes blank. It’s like he zones out. It kind of reminds me of when Charlie was younger, and I’d yell at him.”

  “You mean the ‘my body is here, but I’m not really listening to you’ face? That used to bug that crap out of me when he was little.”

  “That’s exactly it.”

  “Like father like son?” My face is void of amusement, and she knows it. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re going through a shit ton of crap right now and I don’t always need to make fun of it. But here’s the bottom line, babe, you need to figure it out. You need to dig deep and ask yourself some very personal questions that only you have the answers for. Is Heath the problem? You mentioned falling out of love, but do you think you’ve fallen out of love with your husband or do you think he’s done the falling out of love? Either way, Whitney, you need to figure it out.” She reaches over and gives my hand a quick squeeze.

  “You know I love you, but it’s not that simple.” I pull my hand back. “I have the kids to think about.”

  “The kids? You don’t think those kids of yours want you to be happy? How about you ask your kids that question. I bet they’ll shock the shit out of you by their answers.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Honey, it means that those kids have been talking to me for years. Don’t act so surprised. They want their parents to be happy, and that’s the bottom line. You and Heath have raised three smart kids– one of which is off doing his thing protecting our country, but you need to realize that th
ey are getting older. They might be able to shed some light on things you’re denying. This has been a long time coming, sweetie. You and I both know it.”

  Ruby has never been one to sugar coat anything. That’s one of the reasons why I love her. She’s always been the one to remove the rose-colored glasses that I so often wear to allow me to see things more clearly, and this is one of those times. She has always been my voice of reason. My own little Jiminy Cricket.

  “I know what you’re saying. I agree with you.” Now I need to figure out how to approach the subject.

  The coffee cannot brew fast enough.

  I knew as soon as my alarm went off this morning that I was out way too late last night. This isn’t an alcohol hangover. No, this is the lack of sleep hangover. This is what happens when you try to stay out and act like you’re twenty when you’re almost forty…one.

  “You seem to be lagging this morning,” Heath says as he comes breezing through the kitchen, stopping next to me and dropping a kiss on my cheek. I am not a morning person, and he always has been. On the rare occasion when we’ve gone out for drinks with our friends knowing full well the night is going to end with each of us needing an Uber to get home, Heath can be on the riding lawn mower the next day while I’m barely able to rotate from my back to my stomach on the couch.

  “Yeah, Ruby and I had a lot of catching up to do.”

  “How can you ladies talk for hours when you practically speak every day?” He reaches over my shoulder, grabbing a mug from the shelf.

  “We like to talk, Heath. There isn’t anything wrong with that.” I bring the mug up to my mouth and blow, trying to cool it down.

  He drops a spoon full of sugar into his mug then pours the black coffee in. This is how he ‘mixes’ it up. He thinks the spoon gives the coffee a metallic taste, so he doesn’t like to stir. Plus he always says the last sip is like coffee candy. “I get that Whit. I talk to my friends just about every day, but not for hours on end.”

  I watch as he strides across the kitchen, taking his normal seat at the table. He starts up his tablet, going through his emails and reaching out to contractors, I’m sure. This is our routine every morning, but this morning it grates on my nerves a little bit, and I know it’s because the conversation I had with Ruby last night is still fresh on my mind.

  Pulling out the lunch meat, cheese and condiments I start making Heath’s lunch. This is something that I’ve done for years. When we were first married, it was because it was cheaper for me to send him on his way with a homemade lunch rather than him buy out every day. Now I do it because I’m up and I’ve got nothing better to do. Or maybe because I’ve been doing it for so long it’s expected of me?

  “Why do you still make my lunch?” He drops his tablet on the table and turns in his chair.

  “Pardon?”

  “My lunch Whit, why do you keep doing it? You know that I can always buy my lunch. You don’t need to waste your mornings making me something I can grab on my own.”

  “I do it because I like to.”

  “Are you sure about that?” he deadpans.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He shakes his head. “Because I can hear you mumbling about still having to make it after all these years.”

  “I said that?”

  “Yeah, babe, you did. So I’m telling you now, you don’t have to do that anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m tired. I guess I’m crabby.”

  He turns back to his tablet while I continue to make his lunch. The clicking of Harper’s nails tells me that she’s up. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her waiting at the back door. “Can you let Harper out?”

  “Busy, babe,” he says before he takes a sip of his coffee.

  Dropping the jar of mayo on the counter, I make my way over to the slider, which is directly behind Heath, and let the dog out. “You’re coming to the kids’ games today, right?” I ask while I wait for Harper to do her business and get her tail back inside.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  When I turn around, closing the door behind me, I notice the calendar has a bright red circle around this Saturday’s date. I can’t believe I forgot about it. “Well, crap. The Builder’s Awards are this weekend. I completely forgot about it. Why haven’t you said anything?” I ask as I walk past him.

  “Thought you’d remember.” He gets up from the table, pushing in his chair. “Hey, babe?” He stops and props his hip on the counter.

  I glance up at him, and then back to the bread in my hand. “Yeah?”

  “Can you make sure you add more mayo and mustard? They’re always a bit dry by the time I get around to eating them. Thanks, babe.”

  He wraps one arm around me, squeezing me to his body before leaving me in the kitchen.

  One of the things I love most about being a teacher is the ability to watch my kids play their sports. The elementary gets out thirty minutes earlier than the middle and high school, so I’m typically able to see most of their games. When the kids travel, I’m usually late, but both Trevor and Jenna are playing at home today, so I can watch a bit of Jenna’s soccer game then catch the end of Trevor’s cross-country meet.

  This morning before he left for work I asked Heath if he was going to make it to their games, and he assured me he’d be here, but when I get to the field, I don’t see him.

  ME: Hey, I’m here at the field watching Jenna’s game. Where are U?

  HEATH: Can’t make it.

  Dialing his number, he picks up on the first ring, but before he has the chance to answer, I snap, “What do you mean you can’t make it?”

  “Well, hello to you too. I’m sorry, Whit, but something’s come up, and I need to get this shit handled before next weekend. You know I’m leaving. I’ve told you this.”

  “Jesus…” My voice lowers as I walk away from the field so prying ears can’t hear. One of the benefits of being self-employed is you can make your own schedule, but my husband doesn’t understand that he can leave the site or the office whenever he likes because he owns the business.

  “You know I don’t ask a lot, and the kids never ask for you to be at their games, but the season is almost over, and you haven’t even been to one, Heath.”

  “Are you really guilting me right now?” he barks back.

  “I’m not guilting you. It’s not my fault if that’s what you’re feeling right now–”

  “You think I like missing my kids’ games? You forget that when Charlie was young, I was coaching him–”

  “You weren’t the only one, Heath.”

  “I know that, and I’m not saying you didn’t help, but things have changed, babe. I can’t just take off whenever I please, even if you think so.” The phone line goes silent before I hear him sigh. “I have responsibilities. I gotta go.”

  “Mom!” Jenna’s voice pulls me from the phone call, which doesn’t matter since he’s ended the call and is no longer on the line. “You okay?” she asks when she stops running towards me.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  She turns her head side to side, peeking around me. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He couldn’t make it. Work.”

  “Hmm…”

  “I saw you, though, and you were brutal out there. You never let one ball into that goal.” I wrap my arm around her and bring her to me. I need to give her a hug. I need her to know that I’m here for her. That I’ll always be here for her.

  “Okay, Mom,” she complains as she pushes off. “I’ll be back. I’m gonna grab my stuff, then we can head over to the high school.”

  As I watch her enter the locker room without another look back, I wonder if my kids know how much we love them? How much I love them, and how I would do anything for them? I’d risk my own life to make sure that my children are safe. These kids are growing up so fast, but are they old enough to understand how I’m feeling about their dad, or should I leave them in the dark until I’ve made my choice?

  Those are questions I can’t answer rig
ht now, and I’m not sure I ever will.

  “Man, I’m beat. This job is kicking my ass. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

  Heath comes into the bedroom, doing his nightly complaining session. One where I don’t say a word so that he can vent while I inwardly roll my eyes. Yes, he owns his own construction company. Yes, I know that dealing with other trades and property owners can be a pain, and yes, I know there’s a lot riding on his shoulders as a business owner. But what did he think would happen when he decided he wanted to go out on his own at the age of thirty?

  His lack of attendance earlier today still rubs me the wrong way. When Trevor realized Heath wasn’t there, I saw his shoulders slump in rejection. I know I can’t bring this information up because it’s only going to cause an argument, and I don’t want to fight a battle tonight. I’m tired of losing the war.

  “Well, it’s the end of the day, so time to put it behind you and relax. Let the day’s events slide off your back and get a good night sleep.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have the luxury of shutting my brain off as soon as I step off a job site. Not when I have employees counting on me to make sure I secure the next job so that their kids can eat,” he bites back.

  I watch as he pulls his T-shirt over his head. He’s still in great shape for just turning forty-one, and I’m well aware that time hasn’t been an enemy when it comes to my husband’s physique. He’s collected a few more lines around his eyes over the years, and the silver hairs are standing out against the dark brown of his hair more and more these days, but he’s aging well. I, on the other hand, have the body of a mother of three with stretch marks and saggy breasts. When I was younger, I had the firm boobs and the flat stomach. Hell, I’m sure I could have bounced a quarter off my ass if I’d tried. But that was then, and this is now. It doesn’t really matter how the item is packaged. It all depends on what’s actually inside the wrapping, and when it comes to my husband, it seems like the cover is better than the contents.