By five o’clock I get the best worst idea ever. It’s the best idea because it means I get to go along with Emily on this interview. It’s the worst idea because it means I might get a front-row seat to Emily’s reaction to the Burbridges. What if they’re a cranky old couple who can’t stand each other? That would only solidify Emily’s feeling that people shouldn’t try to commit to each other for life.

Still, I find myself in Aria’s office pitching my spin on the story.

“So, you want to write a news article on the couple so that Emily’s opinion piece can work as a companion story to it.” She nods. “I love it. I think it’s brilliant. You two really are a great team, David. You’re giving the paper all these new angles to pursue to increase readership. Terry is going to love this. I have no doubt, so my answer is yes. Go to the interview with Emily tonight. I’m excited to see what you both come up with.” She stands up and walks me out of the office. When we reach her door, I open it to see Emily looking up at us with a confused expression on her face. Aria gives her a thumbs-up, which only makes Emily’s face contort more.

The second I walk over to my desk and sit down, Emily spins her chair to face me. “What was that about?”

“Oh, I’m going to be accompanying you on the interview this evening. I’m writing a news piece on the couple. Aria thought it would run well alongside your opinion piece.”

“Aria thought that?” Her voice is more accusation than question. “You mean, you pitched the idea to her without consulting me first.”

“I didn’t think it would be a problem. We’ve teamed up on stories before. We’re doing it every week for the column.” I play it off as nothing out of the ordinary, but I suspect she knows my true motivation. I want to see her reaction to the Burbridges for myself.

She shakes her head. “The couple lives with their daughter, and they invited me to dinner. I don’t even know if the daughter will be okay with me coming by. I’m not sure I can get it approved for you to join me.”

“Well, Aria’s ecstatic about the idea. If you’d like, I can call the couple.”

Emily shakes her head and picks up her phone. “I’ll do it.” She dials the number and puts the phone to her ear, obviously not wanting me to hear. Not that it’s quiet enough in the newsroom to put the call on speaker. Although we could have called from the conference room and used speaker.

“Hello, Mrs. Burbridge. This is Emily Richards again from For the Record.” She pauses. “Yes, that’s correct. One of my colleagues would like to join me for the interview. He’s interested in doing a news article on you and your husband in addition to the story I’ll be writing.” She barely gets the words out before she’s cut off. I can’t hear what Mrs. Burbridge is saying, but Emily looks concerned. “You do understand that means they’ll be one more for dinner. Will your daughter be okay with that?” Another pause. “Oh, you already... She does. I see. Okay, well, I guess David and I will both see you at seven.” She says goodbye and hangs up before looking at me.

“I guess the daughter’s okay with it,” I say, trying to conceal my smile.

“Apparently, Victoria thinks it’s a great idea. Ethel doesn’t believe Victoria will care about one more person to feed at all, especially since it means two stories in the paper instead of one.” She puts her phone down and sighs.

“Is something bothering you?” I ask.

“I have a lot to get done in the next hour and a half.”

“I’ll let you work then,” I say, turning back to my laptop.

We don’t speak again until a quarter to seven, when Emily says, “You ready to go? I’ll drive.”

“Sure.” I close my laptop and stand up, motioning for her to go first.

She’s quiet on the ride there, which only takes ten minutes. The Burbridges live in a cute little development near the river. Their house is a large, white colonial with gray shutters. The backyard butts up against the river and has a dock for a boat. I wonder if Mr. Burbridge is a fisherman. Emily parks in the driveway, and we walk up to the front door. I spy Mrs. Burbridge in the window downstairs, peering through the curtains. She must be excited to be in the paper.

A woman in her late fifties greets us at the door, and Emily says, “You must be Victoria. I’m Emily Richards, and this is David Burke.”

“Hello. Please come in.” She steps back so we can come inside. The foyer is small with an area to hang up coats, not that we have any, given it’s August. There’s also a small table with a vase of fresh assorted flowers. “I have to tell you my parents are very excited to be interviewed. My father is hard of hearing, so you’ll have to speak up when you question him specifically. Mom is a firecracker, though. Nothing slips by her.” Victoria motions to the room on the left. “Mom and Dad are in the living room. Dinner isn’t quite ready yet, but can I get you something to drink in the meantime?”

“No, I’m fine,” Emily says.

“Nothing for me right now either, thanks,” I say.

Victoria walks us into the living room. “Mom, Dad, this is Emily and David. They’re the reporters who are going to interview you.” She speaks loudly for her father’s benefit.

Ethel pats the couch next to her. “Come sit.”

Frank is seated in an armchair beside her.

“Dad is sitting there so you’re on his good side. He has no hearing in his left ear,” Victoria says. “Mom, I’m going to finish getting dinner ready. Give a yell if you need anything.”

Ethel waves her away. “Go. Go. We’ll be fine.”

Emily sits down next to Ethel, and I take the spot next to Emily.

“Thank you for having us,” Emily says. “Your home is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Ethel says. “Frank, they like our home. Say ‘thank you,’” she says much louder.

“Thank you,” Frank says.

I take out my phone and open the voice recorder. “Mr. and Mrs. Burbridge, would it be okay if I recorded the interview?” I ask.

“Oh, yes,” Ethel says. “Frank, they’re going to record us.”

He nods, and I start the recording.

“So, how long have you been married?” Emily asks, even though I’m sure she already knows.

“Seventy-two years,” Ethel says.

“That’s a long time,” I say. “What’s your secret?”

“Well,” Ethel says, “we married young, so it was a little rough at first.”

Emily nods, as if she’s not surprised to hear that.

“But then Frank learned that I’m always right. Aren’t I always right, Frank?” she asks, raising her voice.

“Always.” Frank’s voice is raspy, and I get the feeling he’s the type who likes the quiet. I can picture him sitting in that chair reading or just enjoying the silence. He raises his finger at me. “When your woman says you forgot to do something, don’t argue. She’s right.” He lowers his voice and covers the side of his mouth closest to Ethel. “Even when she’s wrong.” He winks at me.

Ethel laughs. “Oh, I know I make mistakes sometimes. The important thing is to understand everyone does. You don’t have to point out your partner’s faults, because let’s face it—you don’t want him to turn around and point out yours.” She nudges Emily’s knee. “Am I right?”

Emily smiles. “No, you wouldn’t want that,” she says, keeping her answer focused on Ethel and Frank instead of herself.

“It’s about remembering why you fell in love in the first place. Every couple is going to disagree. The important thing is to not let that come between you. It’s fine to have different opinions. It doesn’t change how you feel about each other.” Ethel is wise beyond her years, which is saying something given her age. Emily is taking everything in, listening without commenting.

“What a lot of young people don’t get today is that marriage is a commitment.”

I cringe when Ethel says that. It’s Emily’s least favorite word.

“And commitments aren’t entered into lightly. You have to want to work at a relationship. If you can’t handle that, you shouldn’t be in one.”

Oh, no. This isn’t what I want Ethel to say to Emily. She went from trying to explain how marriage can work to basically rationalizing Emily’s stance on the issue.

“But what would life be without love?” Ethel asks. She reaches a shaky hand over, and Frank takes it in his. They smile at each other with so much love in their eyes.

“When we were young, and my buddies complained about their wives nagging them about chores that needed to be done around the house, I told them I’m just happy I’m the one she’s asking to do them. It could have been someone else, but she chose me.” He slowly raises Ethel’s hand to his mouth and kisses it.

Emily wipes her eye. “That’s a great way to look at it.”

“We made sure that no matter how busy our lives got, especially after our children were born, we always made time for each other,” Ethel says.

“Tell them about date night,” Frank says.

Ethel blushes, the color of her cheeks matching the very out-of-date lipstick she’s wearing. If I had to guess, the lipstick is probably as old as I am. “Every Friday night, Frank would take me on a date. When we first bought a house, we didn’t have much money, and we couldn’t afford to go out. So Frank would set up picnics in the backyard for us, and we’d watch the stars while eating bologna sandwiches.”

“It’s the only food I can make,” Frank says.

“It wasn’t about the food,” Ethel says. “It was the fact that he made the sandwiches for me.”

“It was the gesture and thought behind it,” I say.

“Did you ever hit any rough patches?” Emily asks. “What I mean is, where there any times when you thought you’d get...?” It’s like she doesn’t want to say the word in front of a couple as wonderful as the Burbridges.

“Divorced, dear?” Ethel asks.

Emily nods, but it’s a sad nod, like she’s hoping Ethel and Frank will tell her the idea never once popped into their heads.

“There was one time,” Ethel says. “I was pregnant with our second child. It was a boy, and he was stillborn.”

Frank pats Ethel’s hand, which he’s still holding. “Ethel couldn’t bear the thought of losing her child. She stopped talking to me for weeks.”

Ethel’s eyes water. “I did. I blamed myself for the baby’s death.”

Emily places her hand on Ethel’s free one. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

“I kept trying to get her to talk to me, and she got so angry. She yelled and pounded her fists against my chest,” Frank says.

“I took my anger out on Frank instead of going to him for comfort. He was hurting, too.” She sniffles. “I told him he should divorce me for the way I behaved.”

I look at Frank and raise my voice so he can hear me. “But you stayed with her.”

He nods. “She’s my Ethel. I knew I could help her through it if she’d let me.”

“And I did. We grieved together. And a few years later, we had Victoria. She’s our youngest.” Ethel sniffles again. “Our other daughter passed away two years ago. Cancer.” She chokes on a sob.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Emily says.

“Luckily, I had learned from my past mistakes. I talked to Frank and leaned on him to get through the grief.”

“So through the tough times, you turned to each other for support,” I say.

Ethel nods. “That’s what love is. It’s not easy. Life is never easy. But it’s so much harder when you don’t work for the things that are most important to you. If I didn’t have Frank, I wouldn’t have survived losing two children. I wouldn’t be here today to talk to you.”

Victoria walks back into the living room. “Dinner is ready, if everyone will follow me to the dining room.”

I stand up, and Emily helps Ethel to her feet. I offer Frank my arm and walk him to the dining room, which is already set up for us. Once Ethel is seated, Emily asks if she can use the restroom.

“I’d like to wash up first,” she says.

“Sure.” Victoria walks her out of the room, but not before I see the tears in Emily’s eyes. Talking to Ethel and Frank has definitely affected her. But is it enough to make her open her heart to me?