Marriage Matters

Nineteen

When Chloe woke up the next morning, snuggled deep in her comforter, her hand was on her breast. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. She’d actually been in the middle of a dream, kissing the man of her dreams. She sighed, trying to figure out who it was. He seemed familiar. In fact, he seemed a lot like . . .

Aaaack!

Bolting awake, Chloe sat straight up and the comforter fell off her shoulders. The kiss she was dreaming about was the one that started at the door of her apartment. With Ben.

“No, no, no, no, no.” She hit her hand against the down comforter. It made a tiny puffing sound, like a deflated wedding dress. Whiskers, who was curled up in a warm little mound at Chloe’s feet, shifted in her sleep.

“Whiskers, wake up,” Chloe whispered. The whispering was necessary, on the off chance that Ben could hear her through the wall. “This is a serious crisis. Wake up.”

Whiskers lifted her head. Those pretty yellow cat eyes stared as though to say, You’re waking me up? I thought we had an understanding about that.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said, “but how stupid can I be?” Scooping up her cat, she pulled the furry little body close to her chest. “Whiskers, I kissed Ben. Ben.”

Whiskers let out a strangled meow, squirming.

“Don’t meow at me.” Chloe closed her eyes tight, remembering the way his arms had felt around her. “I kissed Ben. And Ben kisses everybody.”

This was not good. Their friendship had relied on the fact that Chloe wasn’t everybody. She wouldn’t bang on his door at three in the morning, begging him to open up. She wouldn’t sit by the phone, praying he’d call. And she certainly wouldn’t fall in love with him, expecting to be the one who would finally make him change.

“I’m blaming it on the alcohol,” Chloe told her cat. “I had too much wine, we both did and . . .” She flushed, thinking of the way Ben pushed her up against that door. The way he’d smelled, like rosemary and garlic and the seventh grade. Her heart pounded at the memory.

Just then, there was a thump on the other side of the wall. Chloe froze, realizing that the only thing separating her from the man who had turned her body to water was a thin piece of plaster. She drew the comforter back up to her chin and pulled Whiskers in tight.

“How could I have been so stupid?” Chloe buried her face in Whiskers’ fur. The cat squirmed wildly, then escaped. She stood at the end of the bed, looking highly offended, her fluffy white hair askew.

“Great,” Chloe said, tossing up her hands. “Thanks a lot. But at least you’ve prepared me. Because that is exactly how Ben’s going to react.”

* * *

As the sun shined down through the trees, June sat on her haunches, tugging at an especially hard-to-extract weed. The oxidation crew had toned down the glare on the gazebo and she was overjoyed to spend the day in her garden once again.

“Oh, you think you’re so strong,” June told the weed. “Just you wait. I am going to tear you out of this ground faster than you can say—”

“Giving it a talking to, June?” a voice asked.

June was so startled that she let go of the weed and fell back on her bottom. “Oooph.” The grass was slightly damp and the moisture seeped through the thin fabric of her gardening shorts. Drat. She would have to go back inside and change. Assuming she could get back up. Her body had landed in a very precarious position indeed.

Charley eyed her with concern. “Are you alright?”

“I am perfectly fine.” The truth was, June had landed on a tree root in a way that could require a trip to the emergency room, but she was not about to admit that in front of this man.

“Are you sure?” Charley put up a hand, shielding his eyes from the sun. “You look like you’re stuck. Do you need a hand?”

June let out an enormous sigh. She was not stuck, but getting out of this position was going to require some grunting and groaning that she would prefer he not witness. “I am perfectly fine,” she said. “The gazebo looks good. Thank you so much. What can I help you with now?”

Charley leaned against the fence, as though settling in for a long chat. “That friend of yours, she’s quite a character. She didn’t believe me when I said I enjoyed her strudel, so she’s insisted on bringing me another one.”

June peeled off her gardening gloves. Flexing her fingers, she said, “Oh?”

“Yes.” Charley looked puzzled for a moment, as though remembering the details of that night. Then he smiled. “Since Rose is your friend, I thought you could tell me what she prefers to drink? I didn’t think to offer her anything, last time.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” June said. Of course, everyone who was anyone knew that Rose Weston drank Manhattans, with two maraschino cherries. “I believe she’s a teetotaler.”

“A teetotaler?” Charley looked genuinely alarmed. “Oh, boy. I probably would have served her a drink and she would have slapped my face. She seems like a feisty one.” As he said this, his blue eyes danced in a way that she did not appreciate. “Thank you, June.” He turned away from the fence, his form slightly stooped in the summer sun. Whistling, he headed back toward the house.

Gingerly, June placed her hands on the grass and gave a slight shove. Her legs splayed open like a crab just as he turned to say, “You sure you’re okay?”

June lowered herself back to the ground. “Just wonderful.”

When the man finally decided to go inside, June slid her cell phone out of her pocket and flipped it open. It was strictly for emergencies—she did not want to cook her brain with radio waves on a regular basis, thank you very much—and she was relieved to see that it was in fact charged. Her daughter answered on the third ring.

“Hey, Mom. What’s going on?”

June stretched out her legs. The sharp, shooting pain in her bottom was gone, so that was a good sign. Nonetheless, she whispered into the phone, “Don’t worry, but I might have to go to the emergency room.”

Instantly, Kristine’s voice was worried. “Oh, no. What happened?”

June could hear people chatting in the background, as though the store was busy. Even so, it dawned on her that when Kristine picked up, she’d sounded upset.

“Is everything alright?” June asked.

“Mother. You just called me to tell me you might have to go to the hospital. What do you mean, is everything alright?”

A cardinal dropped down into June’s birdbath. It splashed around, flashing its bright wings and chirping happily. “Oh, I’ll be fine. Stop dillydallying and tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Just . . .” Kristine sighed. “Kevin’s not going to Rome. He would rather save his vacation time for a hunting trip. So, I’m going alone.”

The bird rose up in the water, waving its wings. Droplets of water shimmered in the sunlight.

“What?” June barked. “That is absolute foolishness. Didn’t you get my note?”

Charley came back outside. Since she was still sprawled out on the ground, June leaned her head back as though trying to catch some rays. He went back to fertilizing his shrubs but she could tell he was still keeping an eye on her, which was very annoying.

“I mean it, Kristine,” June whispered. “Did you tell your husband about what I said? About the young man in your store?”

After Chloe’s remarks about how good-looking this man was, June decided to perform a little reconnaissance. She dialed up The Places You’ll Go, asking for Ethan. An oily voice on the other end of the line had said, “This is he.” June dropped the receiver in its cradle as though it were a snake and took a cab to Lincoln Park.

With the meter running, she darted up to the window and peered inside. She received a couple of funny looks from the patrons, considering she was decked out in an enormous hat and sunglasses, but the disguise was important. Kristine would kill her if anyone mentioned the fact that her mother was skulking around.

The moment June spotted Ethan, she felt a twinge of fear. The man was much too attractive for his own good. Plus, he moved around the place like a panther. If Kevin wanted to hunt, he might want to set his sights on a new target.

“I don’t like this, Kristine.” June shook her head. “Not in the least.”

“Mother,” she groaned. “I am not going to talk about this with you at work. Now, do you want me to call you an ambulance or not? I have to go.”

Giving a tiny grunt, June used every ounce of strength she had to push herself up to her knees. The movement startled the bird in the birdbath. With a flash of scarlet feathers, it darted up to the tree and chattered angrily.

“Oh, I’m fine.” June got to her feet. She patted her hair, just to let Charley know that she was having no trouble at all. “It’s you who I’m worried about.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Kristine said, her voice wry. “I’ve got everything under control.”