Marriage Matters

Eight

“Chloe,” Ben called, followed by some insistent knocking. “Chloe, answer the door!”

“Go away.” Chloe pushed her face down deeper into the starch of the bed pillows.

Chloe had been in bed for two days, with only the warm purr of Whiskers keeping her company. The scene with Dr. Gable repeated itself in her head, over and over. She felt like a total idiot for telling him off. Yes, maybe he’d deserved it with his smug little smirk and ridiculous ascot. Still, that didn’t make it right. How could she ever be a good therapist if she couldn’t control her own behavior?

“Chloe, I’m going to use my key,” Ben threatened.

Chloe let out a grunt and sat up. She walked to the door wearing only a T-shirt and underwear. Flipping the lock, she stumbled straight back to bed.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” Ben followed her.

Chloe drew the comforter up to her chin and stared at the ceiling, not speaking. “Hey.” Ben reached under the blanket and pinched her leg. “What’s wrong? You haven’t answered your phone in two days.”

“I’ve been busy.” She pressed her fists into her eyes. “Ruining my life.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” His voice was unnaturally gentle. “Tell me what happened.”

Chloe groaned. Whenever she was in particularly bad shape, Ben used this weird, overly caring tone. She had dubbed it the Voice of Compassion and vowed she would never, ever use it in art therapy sessions. It reminded her of the moments in her life where she was completely and utterly pathetic.

The first time Ben whipped out the Voice of Compassion was in junior high. This was right after he returned from three months of summer camp, totally transformed. Gone was the geeky guy who wore glasses and collected bugs. In his place was a tall, tanned god with a quick smile for the ladies and a smart-ass remark for the guys. The kids who had ignored Ben for years swarmed around him like bees.

Chloe was stung. For the first time in her life, she had to share her best friend. She suffered in silence for a few weeks, until Ben skipped their usual lunch to hang out with the head cheerleader. At that point, Chloe had no choice but to break up with him as a friend. He showed up at her house with Clue and Sorry!, the games they’d played as kids.

As they sat on her bed, sipping soda and snacking on chips, Ben used the Voice of Compassion to explain that Chloe was his best friend and always would be. “Breaking up with me won’t do you any good,” he said, calmly moving his Sorry! pawn forward. “I want to hang out with you. Not those stupid girls. With them, I’m just having a little fun.”

Chloe blushed furiously. Part of the reason she was mad at him, she realized, was that she, too, had a crush on this new version of Ben. He was so tall, so tan, so kind. But it was pretty obvious that she could keep her preferred status as best friend or become just another girl for him to have fun with.

“Fine,” she’d said, rolling the dice and sending one of his pieces back home. “Just as long as you understand that to me, you’re the same dork you’ve always been.”

“Good.” He dropped the Voice of Compassion. “That’s exactly how I want it to be.”

At the memory, Chloe smiled.

“Okay, you’re smiling.” Ben nodded. “That’s a good sign. So, what happened?”

Grabbing Whiskers, Chloe pulled the cat to her chest and ran Ben through the story. He laughed at the part where she caught Dr. Gable singing, glowered at her mention of his six-pack and jumped up in anger at the “promising little flame.”

“He said what?” Ben roared. “Where’s the office? I’m going to go have a talk with this guy.”

“Don’t.” Chloe buried her face in Whiskers’ fur. “A fight with Dr. Gable and his stupid little ascot would not be fair. He’d be no match for you and your metrosexual protein shakes.” Although, based on the sight of Dr. Gable with his shirt off, a battle between him and Ben might actually be a good one. “Look, I took care of it in a very mature fashion.” Chloe stroked Whiskers’ paw. “I called him an a*shole and slammed his office door. Which is why I have been hiding in my bedroom for two days.”

Ben shook his head. “You did the right thing. You have no reason to hide.”

“Yes, I do.” She puffed out her cheeks, then slowly exhaled. “I just got a message from the department head. He wants to meet with me on Friday. I bet they’re kicking me out of school.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ben said. “The good doctor doesn’t even work there. Good thing, or I’d get his ass fired. A promising little flame? What a dick.”

“He knows the professors,” she said. “I’m sure he told them.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Then this meeting is probably to applaud you.”

Ben paced around the room for a minute, tossing her dirty clothes into the hamper, opening the shade on her window and arranging the collection of picture frames on her dresser. There were photographs of Chloe’s parents; Kristine and June; Chloe, Kristine and June; and even one with June and Whiskers.

“Where’s the picture of me?” Ben’s hand hesitated over the photographs. For her birthday, he had given Chloe a framed photo of the two of them riding bikes down by the water.

“In the living room. I didn’t like the way you were looking at me every time I got dressed.”

Ben laughed, taking a seat again on the bed. “Look, I think this is a good thing.”

“How, exactly? This is going to ruin my career.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted. “It’s a good thing because you finally took a break.”

That was true. This was the first time in a long time that Chloe had laid in bed in . . . Well, who knew how long? Even though she’d spent most of the time moping, she finally felt rested.

“Now, since you appear to still be in bed, we are going to make it an official bed-in.” Ben’s eyes sparkled. “We’re going to order some Thai food, drink some wine and watch reality television. You can mope as much as you want. Then tomorrow, you’ll forget about it and go back to your real life.”

“I don’t know . . . Maybe I should get back to work. Catch up on what I missed.”

Ben shook his head so hard his golden curls bounced. “You’re staying right here. And if you’re good, I’ll draw pictures of my deepest, darkest feelings. You can look at them and analyze me.”

“Really?” She’d been trying to get him to do that for years.

“Really.” Ben gave her a smile that could make a lesser girl melt. “You in?”

Chloe thought for a moment. Really, what would she accomplish if she got up now? It was four o’clock and she’d already missed all of her classes. There weren’t any papers due until the end of the week. Looking at him, she shrugged. “I’m in.”

Before she could change her mind, Ben crawled across the bed, picked up her cell and placed an order for chicken pad Thai and drunken noodles. He turned on the television, leaned against the headboard and crossed his muscular arms behind his head. After a minute, he let out a hearty sigh. “Man,” he said. “I thought I was going to have to call your mother.”

Sitting up on one elbow, Chloe snuggled against her best friend. “To be honest, you wouldn’t have had to call anybody. You had me at reality TV.”