My eyes met Ash’s across the table just for a second, and then we both looked away, waiting to see if this would escalate. Both of us let out a breath when Jimmy changed the subject, knowing that our breakfast—for that day at least—would be argument free.
The Odessa trip was a point of contention—Jimmy thought it was too far to go for such a small event (a round-table discussion with oil field workers), but Matt insisted it was important and argued with him until he gave in. The plan was to leave Tuesday morning and drive eight hours to Odessa, where they would spend the night and have the round table first thing in the morning, then drive to San Antonio for a fund-raising dinner and return home late Wednesday. All of the campaign trips involved a lot of driving, but this was pretty extreme with the quick turnaround.
I’d woken up at 4:00 that morning and found Matt sitting on the couch outside our bedroom, his laptop balanced on his knees. “What are you doing?” I’d asked, half asleep.
“I’m trying to get the points for the water conservation plan down. We need to get it on the website, make sure Jimmy starts working it into his talks.”
“It’s four in the morning.”
“I know.”
“You should get some sleep,” I said, “if you’re going to drive tomorrow.”
“I will. I just need to get this done.” Matt looked up at me then and I could see how tired he was. Part of me wanted to hug him, to make him come to bed. I knew that his recent irritability and bad moods were made worse by the fact that he wasn’t getting nearly enough sleep. But there was another part of me that didn’t want to bother because I knew how it would play out—I’d try to convince him to come to bed and he’d tell me he had too much work to do and would eventually get annoyed and huffy with me. It seemed like no matter what I did or said lately, it wasn’t the right thing.
“Okay, then,” I finally said. “Good night.”
—
Matt and Jimmy were out the door by 10:00, and Ash and I just looked at each after they drove away. “It’s so calm in here,” I said.
“I know,” she said. “Thank God.”
It was a relief to have Matt out of the house, to know that he wouldn’t be back that night. Which only made me worry that it wasn’t normal to feel that way, wasn’t right to only be able to relax when your husband wasn’t around.
Ash and I wandered back to the kitchen and sat at the round table. It was sunny and cheerful in there—like everywhere else in the house, there was thought put into every detail. But this room was by far my favorite, with its ruffly curtains and distressed table. I had a feeling that I’d never be able to create a similar space in a home of my own. Decorating skill, it seemed, was one more thing that I was lacking.
We discussed our plans for the day—Ash didn’t have to work and so we were free to do whatever we wanted. We were debating taking a walk to the park and having lunch there when I felt Ash hesitate and then she said, “I’m sure this is all normal campaign stuff, and maybe I’m just being sensitive, but I hate the way they’re acting with each other. It’s nasty.”
She’d clearly been thinking about mentioning something for a while—I could tell by the way it just spilled out, like she wanted to say it before she changed her mind. It was strange that we’d never discussed what was happening between Matt and Jimmy. We’d exchanged glances and a couple of comments, but never really acknowledged how bad it had gotten. Their arguments colored everyone else’s moods, cast a shadow over the house. If they were on good terms, everyone could be happy. If not, we all had to be on guard.
“I know,” I said to her. “It’s almost like they can’t help it. Like they can’t stop the fighting now that it’s started.” I was aware of how we both kept saying “they,” like neither of us wanted to assign blame to the other’s husband.
Ash was about to say something else, had her mouth open and ready, and then we heard Viv cry from upstairs and she sighed. “Duty calls,” she said, getting to her feet.
—