“You deserve to do it if you love it, Whit. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you.” Ruby, my best friend since day one of college, brings her margarita to her mouth and takes a sip. That’s her usual: margarita on the rocks.
I stay away from the cocktails. The days of me indulging in mixed drinks are over. Once I hit my thirties, my body became unable to metabolize alcohol without me having a huge, I want to die, hangover with puking and the sweats. Because of this, I stick to ciders. My body agrees with ciders, and I learned a long time ago to listen to my body.
It’s our weekly girl’s night out at Chester’s, the local pub. This is the time when we can get away from the men in our lives and vent. Think back to our younger years before husbands, and kids. Well, kids for me. Instead of kids, Ruby and her hubby breed champion blood-line type dogs.
“I know, but I’m the only one in my family who thinks the same as you do. Everyone else thinks it’s a waste of time—a waste of their time.” I take a sip of my cider. “If I want to write when they want to do something, I get eye rolling and mumbling under their breath. Hello, teacher here. I can hear them.”
The waitress comes over and places our lettuce wraps, our chicken lettuce wraps, since Ruby doesn’t do seafood, on our table. “I still, after all these years, don’t see how you can’t like shrimp,” I say.
“Coming from the woman who eats buffalo cauliflower.”
“What? It’s healthy.”
“It’s fried and smothered in hot sauce. It’s not healthy.”
“Whatever. No need to rain on my parade.”
She scoops the chicken filling with her spoon and plops it down on the piece of lettuce before bringing it to her mouth. “What does Heath think about it?”
“Heath is Heath.” I shrug. “Nothing’s changed on his end. He likes it when it’s convenient. Not so much when his work clothes haven’t been washed. I know he supports me, but I always feel there’s a catch. Like my writing is a roadblock in what he needs to get done. And he complains it takes up too much of ‘our’ time together, and by our time, I mean sitting in front of the television watching shows I either don’t care about or have seen a hundred times before. Sure, if he wants to go out to eat, I’ll stop writing, but if he wants to sit and watch a show we’ve seen, why can’t I sit next to him and write?”
I’ve been writing for the past few years. At first, it was just something to do to fill the void of the kids growing up and not needing me as much. When they were younger, and Heath and I spent our weekends running them here and there for one function to the next, I’d craved the days when they wouldn’t be so involved, or they’d be able to drive themselves everywhere. But when all that came to fruition, I struggled with my newly found free time. Always wanting to write, I sat down one day when the house was silent and started on my first novel. I haven’t been able to stop since.
She rolls her eyes. “I just don’t understand how he doesn’t see how much writing means to you?” She takes another drink of her margarita before picking at the stuffing for the wraps. “Writing is no small feat, babe, and you do it in spades. If you were my wife, I’d be shouting it from the rooftops that you’re a bad ass author. Gah! Men are selfish by nature, and he’s more selfish than most.”
I pick at my food. “I think it’s because it’s something that he doesn’t relate to and I get that. I don’t relate to most of his hobbies. I mean, I’ve never even been rock climbing, but I ask how each of his trips went. He doesn’t ask anything about my writing. I’d like for him to maybe, I don’t know, show more enthusiasm. I typically get, ‘that’s great, babe,’ and that’s it. But it’s more than him not showing interest in my writing or any other hobbies I might stumble upon. Lately… I don’t know. There’s something off. Missing maybe.” Heath has always had his hobbies, things that he’s been into outside of us, and I’ve always supported that.
“Like what?”
“I wish I knew. Life takes a lot out of me, out of our marriage, and the kids are another hurdle altogether. I know I sound like I’m making excuses, and that I should be grateful for everything I have, but sometimes I can’t help but think back.”
“Back when? Before the kids? When your lives were simpler?”
“How can you tell if a person has fallen out of love–”
“Don’t even go there, babe. Heath loves you. He loves his life and those kids, but all this could be settled if you took the time and talked to him. Ask him what’s been going on. It may be something simple.” She shrugs, taking another sip of her drink.
“But maybe it’s not. Maybe it is something big, and he doesn’t want to tell me about it.” I push the plate of food away, not wanting to eat another bite. “Twenty years ago I never imagined I’d be here wondering about the state of my marriage.” I take a long pull of my cider, my throat suddenly feeling a little too dry.
“Don’t jump to conclusions. Those have never worked out in your favor in the past.” She tips her glass to me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Let me say one phrase…”
My eyes roll, and I outwardly groan because I know what’s coming next.
“Ten. Year. Anniversary.” Ruby puckers her lips and cocks an eyebrow.
Heath had asked me to run to the office with him on a Thursday night—the day before our anniversary. I was already irritated because there had been no mention of any plans and it was our ten year. I was hurt that he possibly forgot and I was aggravated that he dragged me all the way to the office, in the cold. Little did I know that he had planned a huge party.
At. His. Office.
Here he put forth all this effort, and I was grumbling under my breath the entire car ride over there. I’d felt like a total ass.
“What was I supposed to think? He hadn’t mentioned anything that year, and he always made a point to either take me to dinner or plan a weekend away. He did none of those things. Our anniversary was our night. The one time a year when we didn’t care if we spent too much at dinner, hell, earlier on in our marriage we would save for months just so we could enjoy a meal that didn’t come from a paper bag.”
“Yes, that’s right, he always managed to do those things. And the one year he didn’t, you jumped to conclusions and thought he didn’t remember. The man was planning a surprise anniversary party for you. Because you jumped to conclusions, the surprise was ruined, and you felt like a dumb ass. I’ve never seen a man so embarrassed in front of a room of people in my life.”
I hold my hands up in defeat. “But how many people plan a surprise anniversary party?”
“Regardless, those are the things you have to remember,” she tells me.
I hear Ruby’s voice as she continues to go on about her feelings on my marriage, but I start to tune her out as my gaze drifts to a couple in a small intimate booth across the room. The man’s body is leaning into his date as she tells him something. Maybe she’s discussing her day with him, maybe she’s ranting about a nasty coworker, but whatever she may be saying, he seems to be hanging on her every word. He reaches out and takes her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. The action has her blushing, dropping her head as a smile spreads across her face.
“Hello, earth to Whitney.” Ruby snaps her fingers in front of my face.
Blinking my eyes, I look at her. “Sorry.”
“Dang girl, are you drunk or something?”
“What? No, I’m not drunk.” My gaze flicks back to the couple. My chest tightens because I miss what those people have. I miss getting a reaction out of Heath. I miss so much from my marriage. “I was watching that couple over there.” I slyly signal with my head. “That right there is what I’m talking about. Look at him—he’s totally captivated by what she’s telling him. He can’t seem to get enough. If I’m being totally honest with you, Heath’s lack of enthusiasm hurts.”
Ruby flicks her hand towards the couple. “Who? Those two over there? The young couple? Please, I’m sure they haven’t thought past how good their sex is going to be once they get out of this joint. I’m sure he’s only looking that interested because he knows if he does, he’ll get laid. You and Heath are so past those days.”
“Har-har. You need your own station on Comedy Central.” I take a breath, trying to make sure I don’t sound too put out by the thoughts that have been plaguing me. “Does Steve pay attention while you’re talking to him?”
“Bitch, please. That man knows he’s to give me one hundred percent of his attention when my mouth is moving, or his ass is on the couch with the dogs, and my babies do not like to share the furniture.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen any interest on Heath’s face when I’m talking to him. He doesn’t usually give me any verbalization that he’s even heard what I’ve been talking about, and his face goes blank. It’s like he zones out. It kind of reminds me of when Charlie was younger, and I’d yell at him.”
“You mean the ‘my body is here, but I’m not really listening to you’ face? That used to bug that crap out of me when he was little.”
“That’s exactly it.”
“Like father like son?” My face is void of amusement, and she knows it. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re going through a shit ton of crap right now and I don’t always need to make fun of it. But here’s the bottom line, babe, you need to figure it out. You need to dig deep and ask yourself some very personal questions that only you have the answers for. Is Heath the problem? You mentioned falling out of love, but do you think you’ve fallen out of love with your husband or do you think he’s done the falling out of love? Either way, Whitney, you need to figure it out.” She reaches over and gives my hand a quick squeeze.
“You know I love you, but it’s not that simple.” I pull my hand back. “I have the kids to think about.”
“The kids? You don’t think those kids of yours want you to be happy? How about you ask your kids that question. I bet they’ll shock the shit out of you by their answers.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Honey, it means that those kids have been talking to me for years. Don’t act so surprised. They want their parents to be happy, and that’s the bottom line. You and Heath have raised three smart kids– one of which is off doing his thing protecting our country, but you need to realize that they are getting older. They might be able to shed some light on things you’re denying. This has been a long time coming, sweetie. You and I both know it.”
Ruby has never been one to sugar coat anything. That’s one of the reasons why I love her. She’s always been the one to remove the rose-colored glasses that I so often wear to allow me to see things more clearly, and this is one of those times. She has always been my voice of reason. My own little Jiminy Cricket.
“I know what you’re saying. I agree with you.” Now I need to figure out how to approach the subject.