And buried one.
When did this unhappiness, this discontent, start? she wondered. Sharon tried to trace the path of her dissatisfaction, but no clear answer came to her.
After Pamela’s death, she guessed. Sharon’s entire world had been tossed upside-down with the loss of their only daughter. Then the twins had come to live with her and Jerry. Having the babies with them had helped ease the shock and pain. With two toddlers underfoot, Sharon hadn’t had time to grieve or dwell on her loss. Her day had been absorbed with the care and feeding of her grandchildren. The twins had helped Jerry deal with Pamela’s death as well.
When they’d first heard the horrible news, they’d wept in each other’s arms. Clinging to one another had helped them through the terrible dark weeks that followed. Soon afterward, however, Jerry had grown introspective and sullen; but then the children had come to live with them and that had all changed. With Judd and Jason around he was soon his old self again. Both patient and indulgent with the kids, Jerry had been wonderful. And not only with the twins, but with her as well. Then, as time progressed, all that had subtly changed.
Just recently her husband had retired. They’d talked about traveling, playing golf, developing other interests. It had all sounded so good. Sleeping in every morning, staying up late. Chasing each other around the house like newlyweds.
Only none of those things had come to pass. Jerry had retired, and once again their well-organized life had taken a sharp turn for the unexpected.
Sharon had believed that once the twins returned to their father everything would right itself again, but that hadn’t been the case. Whatever was wrong between her and her husband had intensified in the months since Judd and Jason had gone back to live with Seth.
“It’s about time you were awake.” Her husband paused in the doorway leading to their bedroom. Looking at him, Sharon reflected that even now, in his early sixties, Jerry was a fine figure of a man. Although his hair had receded from his forehead, it was a thick mixture of white and gray. He remained fit and routinely played eighteen holes of golf with his friends. Several of Sharon’s friends envied her outright and told her she was fortunate to have such an attractive, active husband.
“I thought you might be tempted to stay in bed all morning.” He didn’t need to tell her he disapproved of her sleeping in: the message came across loud and clear. His gaze rested briefly on the clock next to the bed. “It’s eight-thirty already. I made my own breakfast.”
This too was a not-so-subtle accusation. For more years than she wanted to count, she’d cooked Jerry’s breakfast. Even when she’d held down a forty-hour-a-week job of her own, she’d taken the time to see that he left the house with a warm meal in his stomach.
“You sick or something?” he pressed.
“No.”
“How late did you stay up, anyway?”
“Around eleven or so. Not late.” They rarely went to bed at the same time these days. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love. Months ago, she realized sadly. But then they were both over sixty, and a decrease in sexual activity was to be expected. At least that was what she told herself.
“Did you look over those travel brochures?”
“Yes.” She stood and walked toward her closet. Jerry had suggested a cruise sometime after the first of the year. It had sounded good, in theory. She envisioned visiting exotic locations, shopping in the Far East. The Orient had always intrigued her. But Jerry wanted none of that. He’d decided early on that if they were going to cruise, it would be through the Panama Canal.
“Well,” he said with a bite of impatience, “which cruise line did you decide on?”
She turned around and glared at her husband. This was the big compromise. He decided where they would tour and she was given the opportunity to choose which cruise line. “I don’t care. They all look the same to me. You decide.”
Jerry scowled at her.
Sharon could see that her answer didn’t please him, but that didn’t concern her, either. It didn’t matter to her which cruise ship they booked. Not when she had no desire to spend thousands of dollars to visit a destination that had never appealed to her.
“You want me to decide?”
“Feel free.” He did everything else, why not this?
“I’d appreciate it if you showed a little more enthusiasm. We’ve been planning this trip for years.”
“We?” That was almost enough to make her laugh. “You were the one who wanted to see the Panama Canal, not me.”