The Marriage Intervention (35 page)

“I managed to find a location for the wedding in just a few weeks,” Josie said. “So she won’t be, you know, like,
big
or anything.”
 

Debra raised her eyebrows.
 

“I didn’t mean it that way. But these,” she said, motioning to the dresses, “will fit her better than the ones she tried on last time.
Way
better.”
 

This time, Debra laughed. “You’re a straight shooter, you know that?”
 

“Not as much as you’d think.”

“What do you mean?”
 

Josie surprised herself by going full disclosure on Debra. She explained everything that transpired recently with Paul and Scott.
 

“I still remember your wedding,” Debra said. “I remember how you and Paul looked at each other. It was so obvious you were deeply in love. Forget that cliché about him not taking his eyes off you. He’d gaze at you, and then he’d look at everyone else, like he was asking them, ‘Can you believe my luck?’ It was heartwarming. I always tell people about that.”
 

For some reason, the description surprised Josie. “You noticed that?”
 

“Of course,” Debra said. “Everyone did. You’d be a fool to miss it.”
 

Josie remembered looking at Paul that day. She remembered feeling as if she was seeing him for the first time, viewing him through that soft lens soap operas use, with those strong beams of heavenly light that shoot down from between thick clouds.
 

Every time they made eye contact, they beamed at each other, like, “Can you believe our luck?”
 

“I knew from the moment I saw you, that was a match made to last,” Debra said. “So you’d better do whatever you can to fix it.”
 

***

No matter how long they’d been married, Josie sometimes felt surprised when she saw Paul out of context. He was so good-looking, like a model for athletic clothes. The cheekbones, the profile, the muscles. He sat at a table inside Umbrella Coffee, and Josie noted with satisfaction that he’d ordered her an iced latte and had set it in what would be her spot when she arrived. She stood just inside the door, admiring him, praying it wouldn’t be the last time she had this opportunity.

When an older couple opened the door with a little too much gusto, Josie made an involuntary sound and Paul looked up. She walked to the table quickly, pretending she’d just arrived.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” she said.
 

“Sure,” Paul said. “Any time.”
 

Really? How about every day?

Josie sat down, feeling uncomfortable. “Thanks for the coffee.”
 

“Of course.”
 

“How are you?” she asked, then immediately felt stupid. Of course he was fine. He looked fine. He looked great. He looked edible.
 

“I’m okay,” he said. “Work’s going well.”
 

She waited for him to ask how she was doing, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked at her expectantly. Seconds ticked by.
 

“So. I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said.
 

He inclined his head, inviting her to elaborate.

“I got a visit the other day from some deputies.”
 

Paul nodded. Of course, he already knew. Josie took a deep breath.
 

“I don’t want a divorce, Paul. I want to fix things.” He stared at her, and she went on. “I think I figured out why I felt so, um. So attached, I guess? To Scott.”
 

Paul raised his eyebrows. It was an expression he made whenever they got into a debate, whenever she made a comment he found questionable. She had to suppress the urge to giggle, only because she felt self-conscious and uneasy. After taking a long sip of her latte, she told him about the revelation she’d had about her mom. About romance versus practicality. About Scott representing the former, and Paul representing the latter.
 

“I’m afraid I’ve been terribly unfair to you,” she said. “I boxed you in. I put you firmly in the practicality column, neglecting the romantic aspects of your personality. And I’m so sorry for that. I did the same to Scott. But it was all for the sake of having that conversation with Mom.”
 

Still, he didn’t speak. So she continued. “So I’m sorry. Okay? I’ve made my peace with Mom’s death, finally. I didn’t even realize that was missing. But I’ve done it. I’ve moved on. I’ve told Scott—with no kissing—that we aren’t anything more than professional acquaintances. And I feel so much better. So. I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to give things another try. To throw those (here she struggled to actually use the D-word) papers out and try again.”
 

Paul nodded, a slow, thoughtful nod.
 

“So?” she said.
 

“It sounds like you’ve done some thinking,” he said. “And now I’ve got to do some, too.”
 

It was better than a straight “No,” but worse than a “Yes,” which she had really hoped for.
 

Better not to rush him.
 

Although she did her best to play it cool, Josie felt her heart rate increasing. Her hands shook slightly as she reached for her coffee again.
 

“All right,” she said. “That makes sense.”
 

It was Delaney’s wedding day, and Josie felt as jittery as a bride because she felt like Paul’s choice about whether to attend would signify whether their marriage would continue or not. Clouds like wisps of cotton streaked a sky so brilliantly blue it made Josie’s eyes hurt to look at it. Flowering apricot trees surrounded the gazebo, their shiny green leaves and fragile white blossoms showing off the best of spring.
 

“Stunning,” Summer said to Delaney. “You look radiant.”
 

She did. Pregnancy suited her, made her skin clear and luminescent, her eyes bright. And the gown Josie had selected showed off her tiny baby bump and her otherwise athletic figure.
 

“You look like Mother Nature, herself,” Josie said.
 

“Thanks, you guys,” Delaney said, hugging them both. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”
 

Hannah, too small to carry flowers, sat with Derek in the audience. Sarah stood with Luke and Nate, a protective arm around Luke, just in front of Delaney, ready to precede the bride down the aisle.
 

“She’s been so sweet with him since she found out about his heart problem,” Summer said, “but I can’t help but wonder if that protective arm around him is also her way of keeping him still and quiet.” Now that Summer mentioned it, Josie thought, Luke did look a little like he had an itch in the middle of his back he couldn’t scratch. Sarah looked so stern and grown-up Josie chuckled.
 

Guests began arriving and Josie nudged Delaney further behind the little screen they’d set up to keep anyone from seeing her.
 

“You’re like the bridal police,” Delaney said, laughing. “I’m going to have to make you my nanny, you know. Structure, discipline, and just the right amount of love.”
 

All three of them giggled.
 

“Speaking of police,” Delaney said, but stopped cold when Summer elbowed her. “What?” she said.
 

“Hey, look at that!” Summer said to Delaney. “It’s Jake’s sister, Jenny. Remember when you thought he was cheating on you with her?”
 

They all looked at the tall, sleek blonde who walked down the aisle to find her seat, already dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
 

“Nice distraction, Summer,” Josie said. “But it’s okay. Dee, I’m not sure if Paul’s coming today. I’m sorry. I mean, when we first planned the wedding, I obviously put him down as my guest. He loves you almost as much as I do. But with everything that’s going on, I just don’t know whether he’ll come. But let’s not talk about that. This is your day, and I don’t want my own personal storm clouds rolling in to rain on this fantastic parade.”

Just then, the harpist began playing her final song. When she finished, the kids would walk down the aisle, then the guys, then Summer and Josie. Finally, the DJ would play the bridal march. Delaney grabbed her best friends’ hands, and they all squeezed.
 

The song ended and the guests quieted, shifting in their seats with anticipation. A few moments later, Jake stood at the altar, and there was a collective intake of breath.

“This is it,” Josie whispered. She kissed Delaney on the cheek and walked down the aisle to wait. Summer followed her. Delaney really was stunning, and Josie looked quickly at Jake, whose face looked just as radiant as Delaney’s. Once the minister began to speak, Josie scanned the audience.
 

Paul wasn’t there.
 

***

Under a shower of birdseed and opalescent bubbles, to a symphony of cheers and cowbells, Mr. and Mrs. Jake and Delaney Rhoades left for their honeymoon, a week at a small but modern cabin in the White Mountains of northern Arizona.

Josie was officially through with her bridesmaid duties, except for taking Delaney’s dress to be cleaned and packaged the following week. Summer rushed home, her four kids in tow and up way past their bedtimes, and when Josie climbed into her car, she let her primary bridesmaid duty, the most difficult one—cheerfulness—go.
 

She put her forehead on the steering wheel. An intense feeling of sadness, desolation actually, made her limbs go limp. Of course she was happy for Delaney and Jake. At the same time, Paul hadn’t come to the wedding. His absence was symbolic. Obviously so. The signal was clear: he didn’t want to be with her. Their marriage was over, officially. What could she do but go home?
 

She started the car, took a deep breath, and began driving. As she made her way through Juniper, she forced herself to think reasonably. Of course Paul didn’t want to be with her. After spending the past several months being infatuated with another man, she’d kissed that man in the doorway of the home she shared with Paul. It wasn’t the steering wheel’s fault, but she whacked her palm against it anyway.
 

I’ll just have to come to terms with this. My life as a single woman. With a dog. My personal ad can say something like, “Single woman with large puppy seeks new man after cheating on husband.”
 

“Shit!” This time she hit the center console with her first.
 

Delilah would be waiting at home for her, and would welcome her with all the squirming and licking Josie could stand. That was enough, wasn’t it?
 

The police cruiser parked directly in front of the entrance to Josie’s house. Her heart leapt into her throat, pounding as if it wanted to come out her mouth.
What now?
 

She slammed the car into Park, jumped out and ran to the front door. Her hands were shaking so much she couldn’t unlock it. The knob turned and the door swung inward. The first thing she saw was a blue uniform. The belt, the gun, the handcuff pouch. The buttons traveling neatly up the torso. The badge. Finally, she saw the name plate: COMSTOCK. And then the face.
 

“Paul!”

Her vision was black at the edges, and blurry.
 

“Are you okay?” he asked, gripping her upper arms.

“I think I’m going to pass out.” As Josie had just envisioned, Delilah danced around her feet, her tail going a million miles per hour. Paul led Josie to the couch, where he sat her down and put her head between her knees. “Why are you driving that patrol car? When I saw it, I had, like, déjà vu from that time you were in an accident. I thought they were coming to tell me you’d been shot or killed. It didn’t even register that they weren’t in the car. I thought you were dead. I feel like I’m seeing your ghost.”
 

“You’re pale,” he said, rubbing her back.
 

“You’re not, for a ghost.”
 

Delilah was apparently delighted to have Josie’s face at her level, and she licked her cheeks over and over, darting closer and farther away. Josie laughed and sat up, wiping her face.

She’d normally demand, “What are you doing here?” but she caught herself and said instead, “I wasn’t expecting you. Why are you in uniform?”
 

Now she took a moment to look at him, to really look at him. “You look horrible,” she said before he could answer.

He barked out a laugh.

“I’m really sorry I missed Delaney’s wedding,” he began.
 

Whether she didn’t want to hear his excuse or she felt irrationally compelled to tell him how his absence affected her, she interrupted him even though she could tell he had more to say. “I thought you not coming meant you didn’t want to be married anymore. I thought it was your final decision.”
 

Paul’s body deflated next to hers.
 

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “That’s not the case at all. You wouldn’t believe what happened today.”
 

“Try me.”
 

“My shift was nearly over—”

“Wait. Your shift? Why do you have a shift?” The realization dawned on her. “You went back on patrol?”
 

He nodded. “I knew it would be better for our marriage.”

Josie’s mouth dropped open.

“Anyway,” he said, impatient to finish his story, “I was heading home to change. To get ready for the wedding. Just as I turned off the highway, I get this call from dispatch, about a head-on collision on Willow Branch Road. I’m the closest, so I say I’ll take it.”
 

Josie nodded. That’s just what good cops did. Delilah turned in several circles, and flopped down onto the floor, half her body on one of Josie’s feet and the other half on one of Paul’s.

By the time he arrived, Paul explained, it was too late. A man coming off a double shift at the cement plant fell asleep at the wheel and crossed the center line. His truck hit a sedan head-on, immediately killing both occupants—a husband and wife, both in their eighties.