“Not really,” I replied. “Although, I wish you’d said something about all this earlier. Then maybe I wouldn’t have wasted so much energy trying to keep you from finding out.”
“Why didn’t you want me to know anyway?”
“It wasn’t something you needed to worry about,” I answered. “You have enough to do without taking on my problems.”
“Row,” she admonished, “we’ve had this talk before.”
“Yeah,” I admitted, “but you get a little overprotective at times.”
“Aye, and just what is it you’d call what you’re doing then?” A slight hint of her normally veiled Irish brogue seeped into the question, audibly announcing her growing fatigue.
“Yes… I’m being overprotective too,” I returned. “But that’s nothing new.”
“And it’s something new from me then?”
“I didn’t say that.”
We were only a few blocks from home when she gave a quick downshift and turned the Jeep into a parking lot of what appeared to have once been a multi-tenant strip mall but was now occupied by only a single business. Hooking past a light standard, she serpentined through the lot then pulled into a space before the entrance of Arch Color Labs. She shifted into neutral then set the parking brake before switching off the engine.
“What are you saying then?” she asked as she peered at me, her green eyes searching for a hidden answer. “Are you saying it’s okay for you but not for me?”
“Like you said,” I sighed. “We’ve had this talk before, and obviously we’ve never resolved it, or we wouldn’t be having it again now. We’re both just too stubborn, I suppose.”
“Aye,” she agreed softly, “I suppose we are.”
We regarded each other quietly for a moment, neither of us certain where to take the conversation next. I finally motioned at the storefront and broke the lull.
“This doesn’t look much like our house.”
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you.” She gave her head a quick shake. “I need to drop off a batch job for a client.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” I shook my head as the realization overtook me. I hadn’t really thought about how my escapades might have affected her, and this detour drove the point home. “You’d probably already have this done if it weren’t for me throwing you off schedule.”
“It’s no problem,” she returned.
“Maybe not,” I echoed, “but I still feel bad about it.”
“You do? Good, then my mission is accomplished,” she told me with a sly grin.
“I just walked right into a waiting guilt trip, didn’t I?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded as she rummaged behind my seat and withdrew a heavy-gauge envelope. “You can wait here if you want. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“You sure?” I asked. “I know how long your ‘few minutes’ can be sometimes.”
“I’m sure. I just need to drop this off.”
“Okay.”
True to her word, Felicity was in and out in less than five minutes but then spent another ten beneath the awning in front of the lobby chatting with a wiry young man. I couldn’t blame her for the delay though because he had followed her out the door, talking nonstop except for quick lulls to light a cigarette. He’d been through two already and was heading quickly toward finishing off a third.
It was almost amusing to watch my wife as she maintained a constant distance between herself and the rambling chain smoker. What wasn’t amusing was the fact that every time he took a puff, I had to stop myself from getting out of the vehicle and bumming one from him. It did, however, serve as a reminder as to just how much she despised smoking, and that helped steel my resolve to fight the craving.
She finally managed to get away and flashed him a smile and a quick wave as she climbed into the Jeep.
“Friend of yours?” I asked as she buckled herself in.
“Oh, that’s just Harold. Nice enough guy but Gods! He smokes like a fiend.”
“I noticed.” I nodded, trying not to let on that I was within inches of joining him in the act, then cryptically changed the subject by asking, “So how about you?”
“How about me, what?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she shook her head in confusion. “I don’t smoke.”
“What? Oh, no, not that,” I replied. “Sorry, I meant what we were talking about earlier. Are you mad at me?”
“Oh, that.” She nodded as she cast a glance back over her shoulder then backed the Jeep out of the parking space. “I was,” she answered, chewing at her lower lip, “but I’m getting over it.”
“How long before you think you’ll be completely over it?” I asked.
“Aye, that’s going to depend on you.”
My truck was parked nose first beyond the gated fence that hemmed in our back yard. Felicity pulled her vehicle up to the chain-link barrier and popped the stick into neutral.
We sat in silence for a long moment, simply listening to the world continuing about its business around us. The Doppler-affected sound of tires against wet pavement grew in the distance, achieved its peak as they made their way past us, and then faded into oblivion on the opposite side. The Jeep’s engine idled softly in the background. The on-again, off-again mechanical whirr of the windshield wipers kept time in a widely spaced rhythm, setting a languid tempo that kept you waiting expectantly for the next beat. In a half bare tree next to us, a raven punctuated all of it with a trio of forlorn caws, leaving the moment to hang in the moist air before falling silent once again.
Even with the heater running, the damp chill was working its way into my bones. On top of that, I was still dying for a cigarette and didn’t have any of the nicotine gum with me that had thus far been my only barrier between abstinence and re-kindling the habit.
“So you think maybe we should go inside?” I asked.
“I’d love to, but I have a shoot to do and I’ve already rescheduled it once,” my wife told me. “I’d rather not lose the account.”
“Supermodels?” I asked jokingly.
“Sure,” she replied, her own tenor lightened somewhat. “Super new models of anodized cookware for a catalog. Want to come along?”
“I think I’ll pass.” I gave her a weak grin.
“I thought you might.”
“Actually, I could really use some sleep.”
“That makes the two of us,” she returned. “But I’ll have to wait for mine.”
“Sorry,” I apologized for something I could do nothing about.
“Maybe yours should too, then…” she added, voice trailing off at the end.
“Why? Jealous?”
“No.” She shook her head to punctuate the reply. “I just don’t want you wandering again. And since I won’t be here…”
“I see.” I nodded. “I’ll try to stay in one place until you get back. Deal?”
“Aye.”
“Okay. Since I don’t have my keys, any chance you could unlock the house for me before you go?”
“Oh,” she replied, “Ben said he’d have them put your keys in the mailbox.”
“Good enough.” I leaned over and gave her a kiss then unlatched my door.
“Row,” Felicity called after me as I climbed out. “Speaking of deals…”
I turned back to see there was still a hint of concern in her eyes. Her hand was extended toward me, and in it was the business card Ben had given her.
“Promise me you’ll call for an appointment.” She made the statement more as a gentle command than a request.
I’d almost escaped, for another few hours at least. I should have known better though, as this was something she perceived as far too important to wait. I sighed heavily and nodded as I reached back in and took the card from her. She was correct, I’d made a deal with both of them, and my own principles wouldn’t allow me to back out.
“Promise,” she softly demanded again.
“I promise,” I told her.
I stood in the driveway and watched her back out then followed with my eyes as she headed off down the street in the direction of Highway 40. When she was no longer in sight, I made my way along the flagstone walkway and then climbed the stairs to our front porch.