The Marriage Intervention (16 page)

No such luck.
 

“I hate to hammer you about The Marriage Intervention, Josie,” Summer said, “but—”
 

“I can see the light shining in your eyes, Summer,” Josie said. “You love this.”
 

“She does love it,” Delaney said. “Her greatest calling in life is to be a mother, and now she can mother you, too.”
 

They all laughed, but the hilarity came to a screeching halt when Summer said, “We’re going to the gym this weekend. Yoga. Nine a.m. Saturday. No buts about it.”
 

Josie put her head down on the table.
 

“I hate yoga.”
 

“We know,” Summer said. “Just be glad we’re not making you go to hot yoga. You sweat a lot in hot yoga.”
 

Delaney rolled her eyes. “Which is why Summer loves it. I’m going to hate yoga as much as you do, Josie, but it’s going to be good for both of us. I have to look good in a wedding dress. And you have to look good naked in bed with your husband.”
 

“And you also have to look so good Scott Smith can’t keep his jaw off the floor,” Summer said. “Rat bastard.”
 

***

The question really isn’t, “Should I or shouldn’t I?” It’s, “will I or won’t I?”

Josie stood in the staff bathroom at work, brushing her hair. She knew Summer and Delaney were right. She should tell Paul and Dr. Strasser she had a fling with Scott. Yes, it was old news. But it was also affecting her now. Maybe talking it out would help.
 

Or maybe it would just make things worse.
 

“I don’t know what to do,” Josie said to her reflection.
 

She took her loose powder out of her bag, and began brushing it onto her face. One of the toilets flushed, and Josie jumped. Susie Lockhart, the teacher who introduced Josie to Paul, emerged.
 

“Heard you talking to yourself,” she said, grinning at Josie in the mirror. “What’s the dilemma?”
 

The two of them weren’t best friends or even confidants. But Josie genuinely liked Susie. They often sat together at potluck lunches, sipping water to choke down dry scones and making jokes about sneaking in vodka in a flask. According to Susie, she’d prefer white wine, but if Josie brought the hard stuff, she wouldn’t turn it down.

Susie had broken eye contact. She was washing her hands. Josie knew she could brush off Susie’s question with a quick joke. But for some reason, she wanted to confide in her.
 

Probably because you want a third opinion and you’re hoping it’s different from Summer’s and Delaney’s. But whatever.
 

“The thing is,” Josie began. “I had a relationship a while back. Before you introduced me to Paul. It’s in the past. Way in the past. Ancient history. But for some reason I’ve been thinking of it more lately. Paul and I have started going to marriage counseling, you know, just to work on things. My two best friends think that since I keep thinking about Mr. History, I should bring it up in counseling. They think Paul deserves to know, especially since I sometimes run into Mr. History in town.”
 

Susie didn’t have to know Mr. History was just downstairs in this very building at this very moment.
 

Scrubbing her hands vigorously, Susie pursed her full lips. When she nodded, her shiny blond curls bobbed.
 

“You know, I have to say, I agree with your friends.”
 

Ugh.

As Josie applied her lip gloss, she watched Susie turn off the water and pull way too many paper towels out of the dispenser.
 

“I can tell that’s not what you wanted to hear,” Susie said. “But I’ve actually been through this before. Maybe you’re thinking about Mr. History because you’re missing a certain aspect of your relationship with him. If you can figure out what it is, you can work on finding closure or bringing more of that aspect into your relationship with Paul.”
 

She tossed her used paper towels into the garbage can. Josie zipped her makeup back into its little bag.
 

“You know, you surprise me, Susie,” she said. “I expected you to say something about bringing vodka to our next counseling appointment. But you’ve gone and gotten all deep on me this afternoon.”
 

Susie shrugged at Josie in the mirror. “For once I’m thinking like an adult instead of a second grader. Please forgive me. We’ll talk wine on Monday.”
 

They both giggled.
 

As they passed through the bathroom door and into the hallway of the third floor, Susie paused and put a hand on Josie’s arm. “Seriously, though. If it really is ancient history, talking about it can only help.”
 

Is it really ancient history?
 

Josie sighed. “I guess so. Thanks, Susie.”
 

Will I, or won’t I?
 

Josie had asked herself the question countless times since Happy Hour on Thursday. She asked it when she walked past Scott Smith’s office Friday. She asked it during yoga class Saturday morning as she groaned her way into downward dog. She asked it Sunday afternoon when Paul watched the Suns game and she graded papers on the couch.

Somehow the two of them managed to avoid any real conversations during the days that passed between her late arrival for their romantic evening and Monday morning when she left for work.
 

Which meant the next time they’d talk would be at their appointment with Dr. Strasser that afternoon.
 

When the bell rang to signal the end of the school day, Josie packed up her bag and left immediately, jogging down the stairs and breezing out, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw Scott on the phone in his office.
 

She arrived in Dr. Strasser’s parking lot thirty minutes before their appointment, and worked on the rest of the week’s lesson plans until five minutes ’til four. Of course, Paul was already in the reception area, playing some game on his phone.
 

“Hey,” she said.
 

He didn’t look up. “Hey.”
 

Josie sat down in the chair next to his. Still, he didn’t look up. Which was good and bad, she thought, because it gave her more time to consider whether she should talk about Scott during today’s session. She got out her own phone, opened FriendZoo, and feigned an interest in the lives of her acquaintances.

If she did talk about Scott, the big elephant in the corner would finally stroll out of the room, leaving her marriage in peace. But Paul would be upset. She wouldn’t live it down for the rest of the school year and Paul would undoubtedly point out, daily, that she saw Scott daily and it made him uncomfortable.
 

If she didn’t talk about Scott, she’d probably continue to think about him, to daydream about him and put him on some kind of sick pedestal where her romantic, er, impractical side believed his manipulation was a sign of his undying love for her. Forever. But Paul would never know, and would therefore never be able to hold it against her.
 

Dr. Strasser opened the door to his office. He stood there for a moment, and Josie pretended not to notice him. She assumed he was assessing the way she and Paul sat there, without touching, speaking or acknowledging each other’s presence. She wondered what he’d make of that.
 

She didn’t have to wonder long. Dr. Strasser cleared his throat, and Paul jumped. Dr. Strasser motioned for them to come into his office, and they both stood up. Paul stepped back to let her walk in front of him, and she took that as a positive sign.

When they were settled, Dr. Strasser spoke.
 

“I noticed the two of you weren’t speaking out there. Your body language suggests some tension.”
 

Josie sighed, loudly, before she realized she was doing it. She glanced at Paul, and found him staring at her. Yep, he’d noticed.
 

“It’s my fault,” she said.
 

Might as well plunge in.

“The other night, we were supposed to have a romantic evening in, and I was late getting home. Hypocritical, I know. Paul was pissed, went back to work and we haven’t spoken since. I mean, we’ve exchanged pleasantries, but that’s about it.”
 

In the moment that followed her plunge, Josie could hear Dr. Strasser’s air conditioner running. She could hear the clock ticking. She could hear Paul breathing next to her.

Dr. Strasser put his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them. He looked at Josie for a span of time that felt longer than the final five minutes of the last school day of the year. His gaze flicked to her husband.

“Paul? Give me your version of events.”
 

“Same as she said. She was late. And hypocrisy really gets to me. I came home early, left my team out on a search warrant one man short. And she’s off having drinks with her boss. Talking about extracurriculars.”
 

A spoon would have stood up in the word “extracurriculars.” Possibly even a shovel. Why did everyone make such a big deal of that?

Again, Dr. Strasser let the silence breathe between them, the tension like oxygen to a flame. A dangerous one.
 

You’re about to burn this shit up, Dr. Strasser.
 

This would be a good time to mention her relationship with Scott. Talk about how she obliged him for drinks that evening because he said she broke his heart when she married Paul.

Wait. That’s way too much information. Don’t say all that.
 

She obliged him for drinks as a last hurrah. She obliged him for drinks because she didn’t know how to say no to his charms? Because he’d always been able to manipulate her?
 

Hmmm… None of those options will come out quite right.
 

“Why did you go for drinks with this … uh …”
 

“Scott Smith,” Paul supplied.
 

“Right. Scott Smith. Josie, why did you go for drinks with Scott Smith when you knew Paul was waiting for you?”
 

Josie sighed again, then realized she sounded like a petulant teenager.
 

“He asked me to join him so we could discuss some of my duties for next year, when I take over as principal. I didn’t expect it to take as long as it did.”
 

“Why couldn’t you meet at the office? At school?” Paul wanted to know.
 

They waited for her answer.
 

“I— I don’t know,” she said, shrugging.
 

Because Scott has always had a hold over me and I couldn’t say no.
 

“Was this truly a mistake, Josie, or did you want to be late for your evening with Paul? Can you think of a reason you would have wanted to be late? Perhaps to get back at him for being late so many times in the past? Give him a taste of his own medicine?”

He’s needling me! Is this what marriage counselors do? How the hell can Summer love this guy so much?
 

“No, not at all,” she said. “Geez, I feel like one of my students when I’ve caught him with his hand in the treat jar behind my back.”
 

“Did you have your hand in the treat jar, Josie?” Paul asked.
 

Shit.

“No!”
Too insistent. Tone it down.
“No. Bad analogy. I just meant that I feel kind of, you know, on the spot. It was just drinks with a colleague, that’s all. More time passed than I realized. Truly an oversight.”

Then Paul said something that surprised her.
 

“That Scott Smith has always held a flame for you, Josie. You know it as well as I do. A smart woman like you? If you didn’t notice, you’re playing dumb.”
 

Josie didn’t answer.
 

“Paul, you believing this Scott Smith fellow has feelings for Josie explains your anger over her being late after having drinks with him. Have you seen evidence of his feelings for her?”
 

“I’m a cop. Observer of human behavior.”
 

“Give us some concrete examples,” Dr. Strasser said.
 

“You should see the way that man looks at her during staff parties. Like he wants to lick her like an ice cream cone.”
 

Dr. Strasser raised his eyebrows.

“I didn’t mean it to sound sexual,” Paul hurried to say. “I just meant he wants to eat her up.”
 

He does. This would be a good time to
’
fess up.
 

“Josie? What’s your take on this?”
 

She could practically feel Summer and Delaney, twin angels sitting on one shoulder, whispering, “Tell him, tell him!”
 

“I—uh, I’m not sure.”
 

“See?” Paul pointed at her and raised his eyebrows at Dr. Strasser. “She knows. She probably likes it.”
 

“If I do, it’s only because he actually pays attention to me. He actually asks me for drinks. He actually talks to me, Paul. He—”

“He
what
, Josie?”
 

“Nothing.”
 

“Josie, I’m sensing you feel like you’re not getting the attention you want to from Paul.”
 

Wow. Did you use your Mega Doctor Senses to make that observation?
 

“That’s true,” she said.

She glanced up at the clock. Only five minutes until the session ended. She could still slip in a confession. What was she confessing, exactly? That she’d had a relationship before she met Paul? Big deal.
 

Only … it was a big deal. Because she saw Scott every single day and she’d never revealed it to her husband. And of course, the secret had just grown.