Marriage Matters

Two

Chloe eased her eyes open and yawned. They were on the way back home from the wedding, the cab zipping along the Kennedy Expressway. June was fast asleep against Chloe’s arm, snoring softly, while Kristine sat by the window on the opposite side of her, reading.

Lowering the cab window, Chloe let the warm breeze whip through her hair as she squinted up at the skyline of Chicago. Sun glinted off the skyscrapers in reflections of blue and gold. She was happy to be back home.

Chloe loved Chicago. The bustle of the River Walk in the summer, the “we’ll survive this arctic freeze” camaraderie of the winter and the fact that she could hear live music, find an art fair or even seek out an academic lecture, all on a whim. It was good she’d fallen in love with the city, because June and Kristine would lie down in front of the U-Haul if she ever tried to leave.

At the thought, Chloe glanced at her mother. She was flipping through a travel guide, still trying to learn random facts about Michigan. As she turned a page, her wedding ring flashed in the sunlight.

“Mom,” Chloe whispered in an effort to not wake up June. “Hey! Happy anniversary.”

Kristine placed a finger in the book to hold her spot. “Twenty-five years. Can you believe it?”

“Of course I believe it.” Chloe’s parents were opposites, but something about them had always worked. “Is Dad taking you out tonight?”

Kristine smoothed down her white polo shirt. It still appeared crisp and fresh, even after the indignity of air travel. “He flew out today. It would be too hard, getting up at four tomorrow to catch a flight.”

Chloe’s father started working as a regional manager for a solar plant company after the company he’d been with forever laid him off. Chloe thought traveling four days a week would be brutal. Her father just joked it was a great opportunity to eat fried onion rings and drink beer at the airport without a lecture from Kristine.

“Any big plans for you tonight?” her mother asked.

Chloe laughed. “Yes. Working.”

“Working” was an understatement. She’d probably be up all night, finishing the two papers due first thing in the morning. With a full course load, internship hours and a part-time job at a kid’s gym, pulling all-nighters had become as normal as brushing her teeth. A small sacrifice, considering Chloe was so close to finishing up her art therapy degree. Once she’d accomplished that, her real life could begin.

As the cab screamed to a stop at a traffic light, June stirred. “Ugh,” she groaned.

Chloe laughed, patting her knee. “You gonna make it?”

June sat up straight and looked around. She beckoned at a man standing at the side of the road, selling bottles of water. Fumbling in her purse, she gave him a twenty.

“Three waters.” Her voice was scratchy. “The rest is for you.”

The man’s face lit up and he passed three icy bottles of water into the cab. “Ah,” June said, taking a grateful sip. “I was wilting.”

“That’s what you get for being a party animal,” Chloe said.

After the wedding, the guests migrated to a bar in downtown Traverse City. Chloe had a vague recollection of June standing on a table, waving that bouquet like a magic wand and screaming, “Who wants to marry my granddaughter?”

The text alert chimed on Chloe’s phone. “Ooh, is it a boy?” June peered over her shoulder.

“No, it’s not a boy,” Chloe said, checking the message. “It’s Ben.” Turning her phone toward her grandmother, she watched June’s lips move as she read: When are you home? I need you. Those same lips pursed.

“I need you.” June tsked, turning the phone to Kristine. “Can you believe this?”

“Does it . . . mean anything?” Kristine’s voice was annoyingly hopeful.

Kristine was always acting like Chloe should fall in love with her best friend from elementary school, but seriously. It was never going to happen. With the exception of a drunken feel-up after their first beer, she and Ben had never crossed that line. Their physical contact was limited to arm punches, high fives and the occasional friendship hug and they were both perfectly happy to keep it that way.

“I don’t understand.” Kristine pulled a bag of peanuts out of her purse and slit them open. “Why don’t you like him?”

June gave a little sniff. “He draws pictures for a living. What type of man does that?”

“He’s a graphic artist, Grandma. Those pictures are actually designs.”

“And good ones,” Kristine said, nodding. “Ben made the sign for the store. And it’s beautiful.”

When Chloe went to college, Kristine surprised everyone by buying a travel bookstore. She wanted to do something with her time, since Chloe was gone and June had a life of her own. Chloe was proud of her mother, as what had started as a whim had become a passion.

“The sign is beautiful,” Chloe said, texting him back. “But Grandma’s just determined to hate him.”

“That’s not true.” June shook her head. “I simply said I question a man who draws pictures for a living. That’s not the type of man you want to marry.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t want to marry Ben. In fact, I don’t have time to date until I’m your age, which is pretty ancient, so I think we can all just relax until then.”

“Rubbish.” June took another swig of water. “Love is going to find you sooner than you think, Chloe. Some lucky man is going to woo you, whether you like it or not.”

“Woo-ooo?” Chloe drew out the word with as much disdain as possible. “I don’t even know what that is, but I can guarantee you I don’t have time for it.”

As though to prove it, Chloe yanked her drugstore-bought planner out of her bag. It was as dog-eared as a textbook. Every moment of her life was booked solid.

Kristine shook her head, eyeing the crazy schedule. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Caffeine.” Chloe dropped the calendar back into her bag. “Lots and lots of caffeine.”

“That’s not good for you,” Kristine recited as though compelled to mother. Instructions to take vitamins, eat vegetables and say no to drugs seemed to show up at the most random times.

“Mom, caffeine’s not going to kill me.” And according to WebMD, the slight eye twitch Chloe had developed would go away when and if she backed off the diet soda.

“Well, solitude might kill you,” June said. “A girl your age should be out there dating. It’s a fact of life. One of these days you’ll find somebody.”

Kristine laughed. “And June will be right there to tell him he’s not good enough for you.”

Chloe stayed quiet for the rest of the ride. When the cab finally screamed to a halt in front of her apartment, she pasted on a big smile. “It was fun,” she said brightly. “I’ll see you soon.”

After repeated hugs, kisses and promises to call the next day, Chloe stepped out of the cab and stared up at her apartment building. “Thank goodness,” she sighed. Even though she loved hanging out with her family, the way they thought they knew everything about everything got pretty annoying.

Hoisting her bag over her shoulder, Chloe took the steps two at a time. She owed this particular apartment to Ben, as he’d called her the second his neighbor decided to move. Sure, the lobby smelled like onions and the “working elevator” had been on vacation since she’d moved in, but one of the apartment’s many bonuses was the fact that she got to live next door to her best friend.

Chloe’s keys had barely made a jingle in the lock when his door flew open.

Ben was dressed in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a ratty blue T-shirt. “Hey, neighbor.” He had a panicked look on his face. Freshly tanned from the weekend, he’d gotten a little too much sun on his nose. “I’ve been texting you. Happy birthday!” Desperately, he waved a bottle of champagne and two glasses at her.

“Uh . . .” Birthday? It was not her birthday and hadn’t been for at least three months.

A skinny arm snaked around Ben from behind, followed by the wispy body of a girl. She was wearing one of his button-up shirts and had a tumbleweed of blonde hair. Gauging by her carefully placed ringlet curls, the girl had an unnatural obsession with Taylor Swift.

“Hello,” the girl said, her voice icy.

Ben’s eyes widened. “Chloe, this is Sher . . . Shannon. She’s being super cool about the fact that I promised to celebrate your birthday with you. Right now.” The girl pinched Ben. “Unless . . .” His bright blue eyes looked tortured. “You want to reschedule? I’d really like to spend some more time with her.”

As a reward, the girl gripped Ben by the back of the head and pulled him in for a kiss. Ben’s hands flailed and the whole production reminded Chloe of a show she’d seen on the Discovery Channel, about the mating habits of the praying mantis. Chloe hoped Ben would make it out alive. He opened one eye and gave Chloe a desperate look.

Alright, alright. She’d help him. Just like always.

Dropping her bag with a dramatic thud, Chloe said, “You can’t reschedule a birthday. As a . . .” She racked her brain, trying to think of the appropriate astrological sign. “. . . Leo, my lion-like personality is not responding well to that.”

The girl ended the kiss and glared at Chloe. “I thought that when you get old, you’re supposed to ignore your birthday.”

Old? Who was old?

“How old do you think I am?” Chloe demanded.

“I don’t know.” The girl gave her a disdainful once-over. “Forty?”

Ben burst out laughing but tried to cover it with a hearty cough. “Birthday celebration coming up. Give me one minute.”

“It was so nice to meet you,” Chloe told the girl. “I’m sure I’ll see you a lot.” Leaning forward, she whispered, “Ben’s shy, so if he doesn’t call you, be sure to call him. Until he picks up.”

Giving him a triumphant smile, Chloe swept into her apartment. The door clicked shut behind her.

“Forty,” she said out loud. “Holy crap.” She was only twenty-five! Digging into her purse, she yanked out her mirror. Upon inspection, she saw a tiny line between her eyebrows and, okay, maybe she could afford to wear a little makeup or something, but come on. She certainly didn’t look forty.

A white streak of fur flew across the room, accompanied by the tiny jingle of a bell. Whiskers, her cat, pressed up against her legs, rubbing that fluffy fur against her like a warm blanket. Scooping her up, Chloe stared absently out the living room window.

The view of the rusty train tracks of the El was so incredibly bad that Chloe had framed it like a painting with dramatic white curtains. They added some romance to the distressed, country-white bookshelves packed with art books, magazines and plants Most Likely Not to Die If Not Watered. In the center of the room sat a turquoise couch and a coffee table that had seen its fair share of paint jobs.

“I might look forty,” Chloe told Whiskers, “but at least I’ve got a cool place to live.”

The door banged as Ben raced into her apartment. He slammed it shut, bolting it behind him. For good measure, he pulled the chain lock, too. “She’s gone.” He slid down to the floor. “Thank God she’s gone.” Dramatically, he buried his face in his hands.

“She’ll be back,” Chloe promised. “I told her to call until you pick up.”

“That’s a whole new level of cruel.” Ben’s eyes widened. “I’m going to have to change my number.” Hopping to his feet, he loped across the room and scooped Whiskers out of Chloe’s arms, dropping his face in her white fur. “Hey, Whisk. It’s good to see you alive. Somewhat shocking, considering I forgot to feed you.”

By the time Chloe moved to slug him, Ben was already in position to block. His long face was scrunched up in a grin. It seemed that, no matter what the situation, Ben was always smiling. Of course, if Chloe got laid as much as he did, she might smile that much, too.

“What did I miss?” She grabbed a Diet Dr Pepper from the fridge. The silver tab on the top wouldn’t budge. Ben took the can and popped it open. After taking a hearty sip, he handed it over.

“Not much,” he mused. “I hung out with Sally and that whole crew. They miss you terribly and are threatening to file a missing persons report.”

Chloe felt a stab of guilt. Sally was her best friend from undergrad. They hadn’t seen each other in ages. “I’ll call her.”

Whiskers scampered over to the treats cupboard and started to meow. Ben opened the cupboard and fed her a handful of bacon bits. “How was the wedding?” He sniffed the can of cat treats. Giving her a skeptical look, he said, “Do you really think these taste like bacon?”

“No.” Chloe sucked soda from the lip of the can. “And please don’t eat one just to see.” Ben set the container back in the cupboard. “The wedding was fine. Your typical waste of time.”

“A waste of time?” Ben feigned shock. “You mean, you didn’t do the Macarena? Make out with the bartender? Line up for the bouquet toss?”

“Actually . . .” Chloe hummed “Here Comes the Bride” and dug into her overnight bag. After some grunts and groans, she found the rose and ribbon she’d swiped from the wedding bouquet and held it up. “Ta-dum!”

Ben raised his eyebrow. “You stole a boutonniere?”

“I caught the bouquet! Well, my mom, June and I did. June kept most of it, of course, but I managed to snag a flower.”

“Awesome.” Ben studied the rose for a moment, then grabbed that silver clip magnet from the fridge. He tied the white ribbon around the stem and, using the clip, hung it upside down to dry. “There.” He leaned against the counter. “It might stay in one piece until your post-apocalyptic wedding.”

“Thanks.” Ben was always creating art in places Chloe never would have even thought to look. “Hey, do you think . . .” She hesitated, taking another sip of soda. “Do you think I really look forty?”

Ben grinned. “No way. We’re the same age.”

Chloe and Ben had been friends since the first grade, after she stood up for him on the playground. The school bully cornered Ben against the back fence. Lifting his fist, Gerry Sutherland proclaimed Ben a toad-face and a dead man. Ben just removed his glasses and closed his eyes. Unable to witness such an incredible injustice—attacking a boy who wouldn’t fight back!—Chloe swooped in and whacked her backpack against Gerry’s head.

Later, when they were in the principal’s office, Ben admitted there was a reason he didn’t fight back. “One playground fight and my father sells the Super Nintendo.” As Chloe’s mother rushed into the office, a look of thunder on her face, Chloe thought fast. “Then you owe me. I’m coming over this weekend to play Mario Bros.” The two had been best friends ever since.

“Besides,” Ben added, “getting older is a good thing. It makes us seasoned. Mature. Eligible for the early bird special.”

“I don’t know.” Chloe bit her lip. “Age is different for girls. I don’t want to be like a carton of eggs that someone put in the back of the refrigerator and forgot about.”

Ben cringed. “It creeps me out when you use words like eggs.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But it’s true.”

“Well, you’re only two in cat years. You’ve got plenty of time.” He studied her. “Why are you thinking about all this?”

Chloe’s eyes fell on the drying flower. It was so strange. She hadn’t thought about marriage, family or any of it since she’d set foot into grad school. But the wedding had actually gotten to her. The couple had seemed so happy, holding each other on the dance floor.

“I don’t know.” She set down her can of soda and twisted the tip of her ponytail around her finger. “June was being a pain in the ass about it in the cab, saying I had to start thinking about it all.”

Ben laughed. “You know, you don’t have to listen to everything she says.”

Chloe shrugged. “Everyone listens to what June says.”

Shaking his head, Ben popped open the bottle of champagne meant to celebrate her faux birthday. With a flourish that must have come from the days he waited tables on Michigan Avenue, he poured two glasses. “So. What movie are we watching tonight?”

Just the smell of alcohol made Chloe’s head ache. “I can’t. I have papers due tomorrow.”

“Why do you have to write so many papers? You’re going into art therapy. You should be drawing pictures instead.” Ben held the champagne up to the light and studied it intently. “Unless you’re trying to avoid me?”

“Women stalk you,” she said. “I would be foolish to pass up the opportunity to be in your presence. But, my future calls.” Stretching, she felt a crick in her neck, probably from the plane. Or the Macarena.

Ben selected the Star magazine from her stack of mail and started flipping through it.

“Ooh, don’t wrinkle my magazine.” Chloe had been excited about this issue of Star. Her latest celebrity crush was on the cover, which definitely meant a juicy story. “I’m going to read it in the tub before I write my paper.”

“Sometimes I think I should blackmail you,” Ben said. “Does anyone in your grad program know about your passion for trashy gossip?”

“No way,” Chloe said, sorting through her mail. “Are you crazy?”

“And unless I’m mistaken, you just said you were going to read this in the tub.” Brushing back an unruly strand of hair, he eyed her. “Since when do you take baths?”

“Since always.” She looked at him. “Why? Doesn’t everybody?”

“I don’t know.” Ben gave her an impish grin. “I really never pictured that from you.”

Setting the mail on the counter, Chloe gave him her full attention. “Why not?”

“You’re . . . I’ve always pictured you more as a shower type of girl.”

“I think it’s strange that you would picture me in the shower at all.”

Ben grinned. “I think of everyone in the shower.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. Of course he did. “Thank you for taking care of Whiskers.” She tucked her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and picked up the can of Diet Dr Pepper. “I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Ben said, going back to the magazine. “It’s called being a friend.”

Chloe stalked into the bathroom, plugged the drain and turned on the old-fashioned faucet. Since the bathroom got drafty even in the summer, she turned her portable space heater on to seventy and lit a few candles. Then she dumped a few capfuls of lavender bath gel into the water. “Okay,” she called, “I’m getting naked so get out. Make sure you lock the door so nobody sneaks in and kills me.”

“Don’t get naked yet.” Ben poked his head around the corner. He stuck out his lower lip and surveyed the setup with interest. “Fascinating. A bath.”

Chloe’s magazine was tucked neatly under his arm. “Star, please.” She held out her hand.

“But I’m reading it.”

Chloe wiggled her fingers. “Hand it over, Cowboy.”

Handing her the magazine, Ben headed for the door. For some reason, he stopped and rested his large hand on the frame. “Thanks, by the way.” Turning, he surveyed the scented candles and bubble bath. “You’ve given me a whole new picture of you.” He took a slow drink of champagne, holding her gaze over the rim of the glass. Ben’s eyes were bright blue and suddenly, the bathroom felt a little too hot and steamy.

Huh? Chloe suddenly felt self-conscious. What was he . . . ?

In the tight space, he took a deliberate step toward her. “I just want you to know I’ll be thinking of you.” Setting his glass on the sink, he reached for her hand and gently traced the skin of her palm. “Sitting in that water. Your skin all wrinkled and puckered up . . .” He grinned. “Just like the forty-year-old that you are.”

Chloe’s mouth dropped open. “You jerk!”

Ben erupted into laughter. Racing for the front door, he mimicked, “Call him. Until he picks up.”

“You deserve each other,” Chloe cried. “See you at your wedding.”

Peeling off her clothes, she sunk into the warm bathwater, practically grinning with relief. For a second there, she’d actually thought Ben was hitting on her. Thank goodness she was wrong.

That would have been just too weird.