Marriage Matters

Twenty

Although June was certain that, on some level, Kristine did have the situation with Kevin under control, June still took a cab out to the suburbs later that afternoon. She wanted to have a little chat with her son-in-law.

Kevin certainly would not be open to this, unless he was a captive audience. Considering he did not have any dental appointments on the book, she decided to corner him at the juice bar next door to his gym. Kristine always said he finished off his workout with a protein smoothie, so June was hedging her bets.

She was perched on a red stool at the juice bar, sipping her second apple and carrot juice concoction, when he finally walked in. He was dressed in a sweaty T-shirt, a pair of navy blue jogging shorts and ridiculously large white tennis shoes. As she swiveled on her stool to face him, Kevin’s face fell.

“This is my son-in-law,” June told the barista. Before he arrived, the tattooed girl behind the juice bar made the mistake of asking June how her day was going. Boy, had she gotten an earful.

Kevin gave the barista a cheerful wave. “How ya doing, Myra. Can I get a protein smoothie? With banana and some of that world-famous chocolate?”

Myra shrugged. It was obvious that she, too, didn’t understand why he would send his wife off to Italy with another man. “I’ll have to go into the back to get bananas.”

Kevin clapped his hands together. “Perfect. Can’t wait.”

The barista sauntered into the back room.

Kevin chuckled, leaning against the bar. “June, you really are something else. Only you could think it’s acceptable to stalk me at a juice bar. So. Let’s get this over with. What did I do now? And if it’s horrific enough to warrant a trek to the suburbs, why hasn’t Kristine talked to me about it herself?”

June hesitated, thinking back to the first time she’d met Kevin. It had happened over the summer break, during Kristine’s third year at college. Eugene had been delighted to meet him.

June had not.

One of June’s fears in allowing her daughter to attend an out-of-state college was the risk that she would meet someone and fall in love without giving June a say in the matter. And like it or not, June’s say did matter.

That first time Kevin walked through her front door, June was shocked to see that he was a big brute of a boy. He smelled like the outdoors and wore ill-fitting khakis and a faded sweater. It was obvious that he lacked the means to support her daughter, if the situation came to that.

Since Kristine poked a finger into her back like a pistol, June extended her hand and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The words came out stiff, probably because they were a blatant lie.

A huge smile split across Kevin’s face. To June’s horror, he tackled her and lifted her up off the ground. “It’s awesome to meet you,” he said. “Kris talks about you all the time.”

“Put me down this instant.” The words came out as a hiss. “And don’t you ever put your hands on me again.”

Kevin froze. Face flushed, he dropped her back to the floor. Then he squared his shoulders and looped an arm around Kristine.

Fine, his face seemed to say. Then I’ll put my hands on your daughter instead.

Eventually, June and Kevin came to an understanding. This happened around the time she realized that, even if he wasn’t the man she would have chosen for her daughter, Kevin loved Kristine and would do anything for her. It troubled June that somewhere along the way, his attitude seemed to have changed.

Draining her apple and carrot juice, June set it on the counter. “I simply want to know why you are sending my daughter to Italy. Alone.”

Kevin grabbed a straw from the container on the counter and began to fiddle with it. The man was always doing something with those hands. If they weren’t pawing at her daughter, they were rumpling Chloe’s hair, flipping through the sports section or playing with a nearby item. June wished that for the purpose of conversation, the man would just hold still.

“Things are complicated right now.” Kevin wadded up the wrapper and shot it at the trash can, as though it were a basketball. “I can’t go. I have too many responsibilities.”

June sighed. “Kevin, you have a responsibility to your family.”

“I’m well aware of that.” His face flushed. “Chloe’s in grad school. I’m responsible for that. Kristine has her store. I’m responsible for that. We have a mortgage, I’m responsible—”

“Okay, okay,” she said, irritated with his theatrics. “Have you seen the man she’s planning to travel with? He has a hungry look about him, Kevin. I don’t like it. I don’t think it’s appropriate for my daughter to travel with someone like him, alone.”

“Kristine’s a big girl.” He reached for another straw wrapper. “She can take care of herself.”

“Kevin.” June gripped his muscular arm. “She might not need your protection, but she needs your attention. She needs you. You’re her husband. Step up.”

After a tense moment, he said, “Let me look at some things and I’ll . . . I’ll see what I can do.”

“You will?” June’s heart leapt. If Kevin decided to go to Italy, it would make her daughter so happy. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”

“I’m not making any promises, June.” His eyes seemed tired. “I just said I’d see what I could do.”

“As long as you make an effort,” she told him. “That’s what counts.”

The barista must have been listening at the door because she chose that moment to walk back in, carrying a creamy smoothie in a to-go cup. Handing it to Kevin, she said, “Fourteen seventy-four.” Off his confusion, she nodded at June’s juice. “She said you were buying.”

Kevin shook his head, pulling his wallet out of his mesh shorts. “Of course she did.”

“Thank you, Kevin.” June hopped down from the tiny stool. “I mean that.”

Kevin’s face broke into that goofy grin. He reached for a napkin from the counter. After spitting on it with a loud, horrible sound, he leaned forward and wiped the wet, warm thing across June’s upper lip.

“Aack!” Furious, she wiped at her mouth. “What are you doing?”

“You had a carrot juice mustache,” he said. “And I hate to tell you this, June, but orange just isn’t your color.”