Then she looked up at him. “Will the job make everything better, Jack?”
Her question sucked the air from his lungs. God, he was tired of this discussion. Her endless quest for the answer to what’s wrong with our lives was exhausting. Years ago, he’d tried to tell her that all her happiness shouldn’t depend on him. He’d watched as she’d given up more and more of herself. He couldn’t stop it, or didn’t stop it, but somehow it had become all his fault. He was sick to death of it. “Not today, Elizabeth.”
She gave him the sudden, hurt look that he’d come to expect. “Of course. I know it’s a big day for you.”
“For us,” he said, getting angry now.
Her smile was too bright to be real. “I picked a place for us to celebrate your new job.”
The sudden change in subject was their way of smoothing over the rough spots in their marriage. He could have stayed angry, forced a discussion, but what was the point? Birdie didn’t fight back and there was nothing new to say. “Where?”
“There’s a bear camp in Alaska. A place where you fly in and stay in tents and watch the grizzly bears in their natural environment. I saw an interview with the owner—Laurence John—on the Travel Channel.”
He unwrapped the towel from his waist and slung it haphazardly across the edge of the bathtub. Naked, he turned and headed into the walk-in closet, where he grabbed a pair of underwear, stepped into them, and turned to her. “I thought you were going to say dinner at the Heathman and dancing in the Crystal Ballroom.”
She moved hesitantly toward him. He noticed that she was twisting her wedding ring—a nervous habit from way back. “I thought maybe if we could get away … have an adventure …”
He knew what she was thinking, and it wouldn’t work. A new location was no more than a different stage upon which to act out the same old scenes, say the same old lines. Still, he touched her face gently, hoping his cynicism didn’t show. There was nothing he hated more than hurting her, although she’d grown so fragile in the past few years that protecting her emotions was an impossible task. “The bear camp sounds great. Do we get to share a sleeping bag?”
She smiled. “That can be arranged.”
He pulled her against him, holding her close. “Maybe we could celebrate right here in our own bed when I get home.”
“I could wear that Victoria’s Secret thing you got me.”
“I won’t be able to concentrate all day.” He kissed her. It was long and sweet, a kiss full of promise. The kind of kiss he’d almost forgotten. For a split second, he remembered how it used to be between them, back in the days when sex was unbelievably good. When spending the day in bed seemed like a perfect idea.
As he pulled back from her, he looked down into her beautiful, smiling face. Once, not all that long ago, they’d loved each other unconditionally. He missed those days, those emotions.
Maybe.
Maybe everything really could change for them today.
TWO
Traffic in Seattle was stop-and-go. Jack couldn’t believe the number of cars on the freeway. The city was a study in gray, shrouded in mist, buttressed by concrete. Even Lake Union was rainy-day dull today. Every few minutes came the honk of a horn and the screech of rubber on wet pavement.
He loved the hustle and bustle of it all. The energy. It was the first time he’d been in a city-on-the-go in a while. The tech industry had given Seattle a hipness, an edge that it never used to have.
He drove across the floating bridge. He hadn’t been here in years, probably not since his college days at the University of Washington. The changes were amazing.
In the seventies, Bellevue had begun life as a bedroom community for commuters who wanted a rural lifestyle. Families settled in clumps, buying matching tri-level homes in cul-de-sacs with names like RainShadow Glen and Marvista Estates. Thick black asphalt had been rolled in four-lane strips from east to west and north to south. Before the streets had even dried, the strip malls popped up. Flat-topped, white-sided shoebox buildings that huddled beneath the neon glare of their own signage. For years, the suburb grew unchecked; by the late eighties, it looked like southern California.
Then the Internet exploded. Microsoft and Immunex moved into this sprawl of tract homes and suddenly a city was needed. A place that the growing number of hip, young millionaires could call home. The changes came as fast as the money did. Strip malls gave way to beautiful, themed shopping centers. Trendy restaurants offered alfresco dining on concrete, under umbrellaed tables. Barnes and Noble built a flagship superstore in the old bowling alley.