Marriage Matters

Twenty-two

Kristine was sitting on the sofa, reading her Roman history book and sipping sparkling water, when Kevin slammed the front door. “Kris! Where are you?” Bursting into the living room, he glared at her. “You sent your mother to talk to me? How old are you?”

What on earth?

Kristine set her book next to her on the couch. “Considering we haven’t seen each other in days,” she said, “I think a hello would be nice. After that you can yell at me about whatever June did now.”

“You really don’t know?” Pacing back and forth in his sweaty T-shirt and gym shorts, Kevin told her about June’s visit to the juice bar. “Then she made me drive her home! As if I didn’t have anything better to do with the few minutes I have each weekend.”

Kristine was surprised to see Kevin so worked up. His cheeks were flushed and he paced the room, moving back and forth past the glass coffee table and white brick fireplace. She wanted to tell him to take off his shoes but thought better of it.

“I can’t go to Italy right now, Kris.” His blue eyes were stormy. “I already told you that. No way.”

“I know.” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “You made it perfectly clear that you’re not interested.”

Kevin came to a dead stop. “Honey, I am interested,” he said. “I just can’t do it right now. Okay?”

They’d already had this conversation over the phone. Kristine didn’t want to get into it again.

“Yup,” she said, running her hand over the Roman history book.

Kevin slipped out of his T-shirt and draped it over his neck. He stood in the middle of the living room, lost in thought. She took the opportunity to study her husband’s upper body. It was as cut as it had been in college, but she didn’t feel even a flicker of attraction, which surprised her, considering they hadn’t had sex in ages.

On the other hand, why should she feel attracted to him? The only thing she felt was hurt. Hurt that he wasn’t coming with her to Rome, hurt that he’d yelled at her and hurt that he couldn’t just say he was sorry.

“Are you hungry?” Kevin tugged at his T-shirt.

Looking down at her hands, in particular her wedding ring, she shook her head. “No.”

“I’m starving.” Some of the familiar humor came back into his face. “After talking to June, I went back to the gym and worked out so hard that I’m practically digesting myself.”

Clomping across the hardwood floors and into the kitchen in his gym shoes, Kristine heard him grab a glass out of the cupboard. Clink clink clink, went the ice, then whoosh. Water rushed into his glass. Tonight, the familiar sounds didn’t make Kristine happy. It just gave her a headache.

Kevin poked his head around the corner. “I’m gonna get a pizza. Unless you’re going to kill me for ordering Italian.”

Kristine refused to smile. “Go for it.”

Drumming his hand against the wall, he said, “What do you want to do tonight? Anything?”

Kristine bit her lip. She wanted to plan a trip to Rome with her husband. To watch documentaries, plot out what they were going to see, talk to friends who had already been. But obviously, that wasn’t going to happen.

“I don’t know,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

Kevin yawned. “I’m pretty beat. The flight was so early this morning.”

“That’s okay.” She twisted the strings on a throw pillow. “Let’s just rent a movie or something.”

Kevin’s face brightened. “Maybe we can find a video on how to divorce a mother-in-law.”

“That’s enough!” Kristine leapt to her feet, tossing aside the pillow. “I have listened to you complain about my mother nonstop for the past half hour. June does what she thinks is best, because she loves us. Maybe if you were coming with me, she wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

Kevin stared at her in surprise. “Kris, I was just kidding.”

“No, you weren’t.” Kristine gripped her hands together until her knuckles turned white. “My mother is a remarkable woman.” Pictures of June lined the mantel above the fireplace and she pointed at them, as though to remind him they were talking about a real person. “Please show some respect.”

“I do respect your mother.” Kevin shook his head. “Kris, you should have seen her today, gathering the troops at the juice bar. It was pretty funny.” When she didn’t respond, he groaned. “Firecracker, come on. I love June.” He walked over to her, setting the glass of water on the end table and opening up his arms. “And I love you.”

Kristine hesitated. Then, taking a small step forward, she leaned in. His skin was warm against her cheek, his muscles taut. He smelled like clean sweat and faded lemongrass.

“I’m sorry I’m not going to Italy with you.” Kevin’s voice was gruff. “We’ll do it one of these days. I promise you that.”

Kristine closed her eyes. She wanted to believe it, but at this point, she had to accept that he wasn’t going to change. That in some things, she was just going to have to be on her own.

Kevin’s T-shirt still dangled over his shoulders and it brushed against her cheeks. Reaching up, Kristine gripped the bottom of his shirt like an anchor. She held on tight, as though the slightest movement could wash them away.