But …
Lately, it seemed that their differences were more pronounced than the things they shared. Michael had always hated her commitment to the military. She’d left active duty for him and gone into the Guard instead, but that hadn’t been good enough for Michael. He didn’t want to hear about her flying or her drill weekends or her friends who served. He’d always been antimilitary, but since the war in Iraq had started, his opinions had grown stronger, more negative. Their once-companionable silences had become awkward. It was pretty lonely when you couldn’t talk to your husband about the things that mattered to you. Normally, she looked away from these truths, but tonight they were all that occupied the chair beside her.
She got up and went back inside.
8:50.
She opened the heavy yellow pot lid and stared into the meal she’d made. The rich sauce had reduced too far; it looked a little black around the edges. Behind her, the phone rang. She lunged for it. “Hello?”
“Hey, Jo. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Late was an hour ago, Michael. What happened?”
“I’m sorry. What can I say? I got into work and forgot.”
“You forgot,” she said, wishing it didn’t hurt.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
She almost said how? but what was the point? Why make it worse? He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. “Okay.”
“I’ll try to get home quickly, but…”
Jolene was glad they were on the phone; at least she didn’t have to smile. The thought came to her that he hadn’t been trying hard enough lately, that his family—and his wife—seemed not to matter to him. And yet she still loved him as deeply as the day he’d first kissed her, all those years ago.
Time, she thought. It will be okay next week or next month. He was still grieving over the loss of his father. She just needed to be understanding.
“Happy birthday,” he said.
“Thanks.” She hung up the phone and sat down at the kitchen table. In the shadowy room, decorated with her family photos and mementos and the furniture she had salvaged and restored herself, she felt alone suddenly. All dressed up, sitting in this darkened room. Lonely.
Then there was a knock at the door. Before Jolene even stood up, the kitchen door opened. Tami walked into the house, holding a bottle of champagne. “You’re alone,” she said quietly.
“He got caught up at work,” Jolene said.
“I was afraid of that.” Sadness passed through Tami’s eyes, and Jolene hated how it made her feel. Then Tami smiled. “Well. It’s no good to turn forty-one without an audience,” she said, kicking the door shut behind her. “Besides, I’m dying to know if you’ll start wrinkling up right in front of me, like Gary Oldman in Dracula.”
“I am not going to start wrinkling up.”
“You never know.”
“Champagne?” Jolene said, arching one eyebrow.
“That’s for me. I don’t have alcoholic parents. You can guzzle soda water, as usual.”
Tami popped the champagne bottle effortlessly, poured herself a glass and headed into the family room, where she plopped down on the overstuffed sofa and raised a glass. “To you, my rapidly aging best friend.”
Jolene followed Tami into the family room. “You’re only a few months younger than I am.”
“We Native Americans don’t age. It’s a scientific fact. Look at my mom. She still gets carded.”
Jolene sat down in an overstuffed chair and curled her bare feet up underneath her.
They looked at each other. What swirled between them then, floating like champagne bubbles, were memories of other nights like this, meals Michael had missed, events he’d been too busy to attend. Jolene often told people, especially Tami, how proud she was of her brilliant, successful husband, and it was all true, but lately he seemed unhappy. His father’s death had capsized him. She knew how unhappy he was, she just didn’t know how to help.
“It must hurt your feelings,” Tami said.
“It hurts,” Jolene said quietly.
“You should talk to him about it, tell him how you feel.”
“What’s the point? Why make him feel worse than he already does? Shit happens, Tami. You know Michael’s work ethic. It’s one of the things I love about him. He never walks away from responsibility.”
“Unless it’s a family obligation,” Tami said softly.
“He’s just really busy right now. Since his father’s death…”