Decidedly Married. Carole Page Gift
she said, weighing her words. “You’ve just met him.”
“What if I am?”
“You hardly even know him.”
“That’s not true, Mom.” Katie twisted a strand of her long, burnished hair. “I’ve known Jesse since eighth grade. And we’ve been hanging out together for weeks now. He’s so rad.”
“Then how come you never brought him home to meet your dad and me?”
Katie shrugged. “I figured you wouldn’t like him.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. Tell me.”
“He’s not exactly the college preppie-type of guy you want me to date.”
Julie inhaled deeply. If she wasn’t careful, this discussion would deteriorate into a bitter clash of wills. “Katie, college isn’t the issue here. Your friend Jesse told me he’s not even planning to graduate from high school. What kind of future—?”
“Mom, why can’t I just have fun today and let the future take care of itself?”
These were Julie’s own words from so many years ago, smacking her in the face. “Because life doesn’t work that way.”
Katie folded her slender arms defensively. “I’m a teenager, Mom. I’m not ready to get all serious and gloomy about life like you and Dad.”
“Is that how you see us?”
“Isn’t it? You’re always working. You never have any fun. I don’t even think you guys like each other anymore.”
Julie winced, she felt a sudden impulse to strike back. “That’s enough, young lady. I won’t have you bad-mouthing your dad and me.”
“I’m not,” protested Katie. “Just let me live my own life, Mom. Don’t be such a control freak, okay?”
“Sure, I can let you do whatever you please, but when you get into trouble, who are you going to come running to to bail you out?”
“Please, Mom, not another one of your lectures on sex. I’m not going to get into trouble What do you think I’m going to do—get pregnant like you did and make some guy marry me? No way, Mom!”
Julie felt the blood drain from her face She reached out and pressed her palm against the wall to steady herself.
Katie looked stricken. “I’m sorry, Mom. You must know I’ve known for ages you and Dad had to get married. I’m not stupid. All I had to do was the math. You were married five months before I was born. Come on, it’s no big deal.”
“Go to bed, Katie. Please, it’s late.” Try as she might, Julie couldn’t keep the hysteria out of her voice. The last thing in the world she wanted was for Katie to see how shaken she was by her thoughtless, throwaway remarks. Leave it to the young to dismiss in a few brutally candid words the deeply buried truth that had undermined Julie’s marriage from the start Julie had learned to live with her secret doubts and misgivings about Michael and their marriage. But she wasn’t prepared to cope with a headstrong daughter brashly pointing out her shame in a casual conversation.
Katie reached out and touched her mother’s arm—an awkward, tentative gesture. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that about you and Dad. I didn’t know it would freak you out like this. I just—I don’t want you being paranoid about me just because it happened to you.”
“What you mean is, what right do I have to tell you to stay out of trouble when I got into trouble myself. Isn’t that it?”
“No, Mom. That’s not it. It’s just—I know what I’m doing. I won’t get hurt. I promise.”
Julie stepped back and tightened the sash of her robe. The pressure in her head was ballooning, giving her a monumental headache. “I can’t deal with this tonight, Katie, but we’re not through talking. Do you hear me? You think you have all the answers, but you don’t even know all the questions yet.”
“I know more than you think, Mom. Stop worrying about me and worry about Dad for a change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just—you treat him like you’re mad at him all the time, like he can’t do anything right”
The rawness in Julie’s throat took on a new burning sensation. “If I do it’s—it’s because he never has time for us anymore He’s so busy with everything else under the sun.”
Katie’s intractable expression softened and for a moment Julie saw a glimpse of the vulnerable child behind the eyes “He has time for me,” she said, her angular features settling into a truculent pout. With her blue eyes flashing and her chin jutting out stubbornly, she was the picture of Michael.
Julie had lost another round and felt too miserable and exhausted to protest. One thing about Katie—she would defend her dad to the death; Michael was always Mr. Wonderful in her eyes.
“I’m going to bed,” Julie said in a low, grudging monotone. “I suggest you do the same, Katie”
Julie wanted to say something more, yearned to mend this unintended breach between them. But already Katie had averted her gaze, swiveled jauntily and was sashaying off to her room.
I didn’t handle things right with Katie, Julie acknowledged with a heavy, sinking sensation as she slipped into bed and fluffed her pillow under her head. What’s wrong with me that I always blunder in and say the wrong things? I’ll do the same thing when Michael comes home, I know I will. I want to make things right between us, but I can’t help it. I’ll only make matters worse. What’s wrong with me that I can’t communicate with the people I love most?
Julie was drifting off to sleep when she heard the front door open and shut downstairs. The familiar sound brought her back to full, heart-pounding wakefulness. This time there was no question; it was Michael, home at last. After a long day of painful questions and doubts, Julie would face her husband and know the truth about this woman named Beth and she would know whether she still had a marriage worth saving.
Julie slipped out of bed, put on a soft-sounding jazz CD and lit several fragrant candles on the bureau In the muted, flickering light, the room looked romantic, inviting, as she hoped she, too, looked in her silk negligee She knew it would be a minute or two before Michael came upstairs. He would walk around the house and check the stove and the windows and doors; he might pour himself a glass of juice and glance at the mail or scan the newspaper headlines if he hadn’t already read the paper at work.
But soon—any minute now—she would hear his familiar footsteps on the stairs, and she would be here waiting. Sitting on the side of the bed looking the way he remembered her from their youth. He would come over and kiss her, and their closeness would spark old yearnings and desires. She would search his eyes and read the unspoken truths. In his arms she would feel reassured of his love for her, and they would be together again in a way they seldom were these days.
She soon heard his footfall on the stairs, and moments later he entered the room, his tall, rugged frame filling the doorway. Already he was loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He stopped a few feet from the bed and gazed quizzically at Julie. “What’s going on, hon?”
She forced her voice to sound casual. “What do you mean?”
He gestured toward the candles. “The moonlight and roses bit. What gives?”
“Nothing…everything. I felt lousy all day, so I’m pampering myself tonight.”
“Oh.” Michael pulled off his shirt