My dad did it for years until a heart attack crept up on him however long ago. Mom, too, numbing her worries by pouring herself into the diner like it’s a second child of her own.
“Why are you asking?” Bobby turns to me suddenly. “Are you and Tanner—?”
“Oh, no,” I cut him off at once, shaking my head. “We’re as happy as can be. The happiest. Totally great, nothing’s up.”
Perhaps I said it too many times in a row.
He’s staring.
“R-Really,” I insist.Great.Now I’m stuttering. “We’re perfect. I love my husband. He’s a total party, too. Nonstop. A … nonstop party. Please don’t tell Jimmy.”
“Don’t tell Jimmy what?” asks Bobby, eyebrows pinched.
Why did I just say that?“Nothing. I mean …” My fingers drum on the fence. I stop that nervous habit at once. “I mean sure, like any married couple, we have our … our disagreements. And yeah, I wish sometimes he’d take me more seriously. And take initiative with the kids. Like, yes, thank God we were blessed with two boys who are empathetic, smart, and independent. It’s not easy gettin’ them to open up about their childhoods and what the two had to endure before they met us, but it doesn’t mean my husband gets a free pass on bein’ thehardparent now and then, leaving that task up to me so I always look like the uptighthelicopter chef. What evenisa helicopter chef? Like, okay, I’dloveto just wind down and be a free spirit all the time, but … Y’know what? Fine. Life’s a big party if you’re a Strong boy. I get it. I should enjoy that party more, too. I appreciate the stupid metaphor. But someone has toset uptheparty, too. The punch bowl doesn’t fill itself. The guest list and the decorations and the food don’t justhappen. Life takeseffort. Parties can bework. Alotof work. And I …” Suddenly I find myself slumped against the fence. “I guess sometimes I … I just … I feel so fuckin’ alone with my stresses, Bobby. So fuckin’ alone.”
I don’t know half the words I said after I say them.
I’m just numb and squeezing a can of beer too tightly.
Is the secret to life just holding everything in until you dump it all on your brother-in-law’s totally sweet and attentive husband?
Bobby puts a hand on my arm, stirring me. “Y’know,” he says, his voice lowered, “if it’s getting to be too much, maybe you ought to hire Malcolm.”
I frown at Bobby, not following at all. “Uh … Malcolm?”
“Yeah, you know. Mario Tucci’s son. Nadine’s Malcolm. Ever since she’s brought him into her team, he’s proven to be quite the event coordinator. I bet he could take a lot of your stress away.”
I am still twenty steps behind Bobby, standing on a rock in the sea of his words. “Why would I, uh … need an … aneventcoordinator…?”
“Your vow renewal ceremony.” Bobby spreads his hands, lips twisted into a frown. “That’s what you’re venting about, isn’t it? That Tanner isn’t helping you out with your ‘party’ enough?”
I stare at Bobby, blank-eyed.
Of course. That’s what it sounded like.
I guess.
The metaphor has become literal. I’m complaining about Tanner not helping with the plans for our impending vow renewal event, scheduled for the very end of the year—exactly on our eight-year anniversary: New Year’s.
That’s what I’m all stressed out about.
Nothing more.
I’m almost thankful for the misunderstanding. What in the hell was I even thinking, letting all of that out?
“Yeah,” I finally say, coming out of it. “Malcolm. I’ll … I’ll get in touch with Malcolm.”
Bobby pats me on the shoulder. “We’re all so happy for you two. Jimmy’s just about as excited for the ceremony as Nadine herself, and that’s sayin’ some—What the hell’s he doing now?” He squints across the field at Jimmy, who appears to be attempting a headstand on the table. Instead of getting annoyed, he laughs like it’s the most adorable thing in the world. “Those damnedStrongs, am I right? Party never ends. Oh, hey, have you written your vows yet? Or is it too soon?”
I stare at Bobby blankly for an answer.
The wind plays at the grass with a sudden breeze. I twist my eyes up to the sky, watching the clouds roll in. The windier and windier it gets, I wonder if the weather is trying to compete with the restlessness in my heart, twisting and pushing and roiling.
No, I haven’t written my vows.
Haven’t given them much thought at all, in fact.
Maybe the problem is that I’ve been resisting the party. Bobby looks so calm facing the chaos of Tanner’s younger brother, who is ten times more energetic and spontaneous.