For dessert, I served a peach pie. No one wanted the caffeine rush of coffee, so we continued to sip wine.
I excused myself to use the bathroom. When I returned, the others had moved to the living room. Skye was in the kitchen making a pot of tea. Brad was holding his wineglass, staring at the contents and ignoring Joe, who was studying his phone.
Joe stood and went into the kitchen. A few minutes later he and Skye returned with a tray, a pot of tea, and four cups.
Standing a few feet behind Skye, Joe was looking at his phone. “Well, shit,” he muttered softly.
“What’s wrong?” I put my glass on the coffee table.
Joe shook his head. He continued studying his phone.
Skye poured tea, avoiding making eye contact with me.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Not exactly, but it’s kind of embarrassing.” Skye looked at Joe and gave him a sad, tired smile.
I waited a moment, then asked again. “What is it?”
Skye moved away from the coffee table and leaned against Joe. “Nothing that can’t be fixed.”
“For a premium price.” Joe laughed. “But no problem, I already have it handled.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“It’s so fucked up,” Skye said. She laughed. “Sorry. I’ve heard about things like this, but I thought…”
Why wouldn’t she say? It annoyed me when people played little games like that, trying to make you guess what was bothering them, trying to force you into prying.
She flopped down on the couch and sighed. “We reserved a house. Right on the lake. It was so beautiful. Almost as nice as this.” She tilted her head back and gazed up at the open beam ceiling that soared past the second floor. She sighed again, then looked at me. “We paid the deposit ages ago.”
“We made the final payment right before we left Florida,” Joe said. “After we left the restaurant this afternoon, I sent a message to the owner and said we’d be late picking up the keys.”
I nodded.
“The text never went through. I didn’t notice until just a few minutes ago,” he said. “The number is no good. I checked the website and the listing is gone. It was a bullshit house. They probably don’t even own it.”
“Can’t the reservation company help you?”
Skye shrugged. “Probably. But not tonight. I’m sure we’ll get a refund, but for now, we need to find a hotel.”
Joe tapped his phone, then looked at Skye. “Harrah’s said they have something. I just looked at it. A suite, which will be awesome, obviously not the same experience, but very nice. What are ya gonna do, right?” She stood and went to his side, taking the phone and studying the image on the screen.
Brad picked up his wineglass. He didn’t seem to notice it was empty. He touched it to his lips, then moved it away and peered inside.
It was awkward, learning they had no place to stay. We hardly knew them. In fact, we didn’t know them at all. I was comfortable around them, we’d laughed quite a lot and the conversation never lagged, but still…we’d just met. Was it foolish to invite them to stay with us? We had so much space, it was ridiculous.
The moment that thought passed through my mind, my thoughts changed course. That was exactly what I should do. Brad and I needed a change of pace. We needed some distance, not the hyper-intense togetherness he was envisioning.
With another couple in the house we could relax. We could focus on getting out of our heads, avoid the trap of analyzing ourselves to death. Hiking and boating, light conversation and a bit of drinking. What was missing between us couldn’t be solved by analysis and overwrought discussions of our relationship. We needed fun.
And I needed space. Physical and mental. I needed to be outside, I needed time to think while my body was active. Brad would be annoyed at first, but he had to agree with me. I was certain he’d even blogged about it at some point—the importance of playing together, the importance of breathing air into your relationship by spending time with other couples. We hadn’t hung out with friends for over two months. The demands of our jobs and our friends’ jobs layered over each other until it was impossible to find an open time slot. We’d laughed that we were going to have to start planning dinners out and trips to the beach six months in advance.
I stood and crossed my arms. “You should stay here.”
“No, that’s fine,” Joe said. “We’re not going to—”
“Yes. You are,” I said. “Look at how well we clicked with each other. There’s plenty of room. Too much room.” I gave Skye a warm smile. “It would be awesome. We have the boat…what fun is a boat with only two people, right, Brad?”
Brad smiled. He didn’t look thrilled, but being polite was in his blood. After a slight hesitation, he smiled. “Absolutely.”
“Then it’s final,” I said.
Joe nodded. “Very generous of you. You’re sure we’re not putting you out?”
“Not at all,” I said.
Skye slipped her arm around Joe’s waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thank you so much. You are so, so sweet.”
I had to turn away from the others, hiding my expression that surely screamed relief. This meant I also didn’t have to see the look Brad was giving me—frustration and hurt. Quite a lot of hurt. I didn’t like hurting him, but I just couldn’t be what he wanted right then. I needed a vacation, not couples therapy and contrived activities meant to help us reconnect.
What I had done wasn’t all that sweet, but I was happy Skye chose to see it that way.
4
Brad
It had been six hours since we met this couple in an accident over drinks and now they were moving into our vacation home, invited to eat and sleep with us, enjoy our boat, and—if Maggie had her way—become our best friends.
It felt as if someone had blindfolded me, spun me in circles, and dropped me into a house that no longer felt familiar.
The week was supposed to have been a chance for Maggie and me to reconnect. We’d been drifting apart for several months, maybe longer, and I wasn’t sure why. Nothing would change between us if we didn’t spend time alone. We needed uninterrupted hours to talk long into the night like we used to. To do this, we needed space without work, outside of our normal environment, which had become a backdrop for habit and routine. Time without the never-ending list of projects around the house. I’d taken a break from my blog for the week and we’d talked about but decided not to invite any of our friends to come up for the last weekend.
It was hard not to think Maggie had issued her impulsive invitation to sabotage the very thing we needed.
On top of feeling alienated, unsure about what was going on between us, and honestly, a bit lonely, I was starting to worry I was in danger of becoming a hypocrite. Every day I sat in the comfortable living room of our guest cottage at the back of the property and issued advice and offered guidance on building healthy, lasting relationships. Twice a week, I posted to my blog and responded to thirty or forty comments about how to keep love growing and thriving throughout a lifelong marriage.
The staleness between us was what I advised against. The lack of depth to our conversations, the lack of spontaneity and variety. Every day, it felt as if the connection between Maggie and me died a little more—a leaf faded to brown, lost its life-giving moisture, curled up, and fell off the tree. Soon, there would be nothing but naked branches.