Page 11 of The Summer Save

My arm hooked around her waist, drawing her into my embrace. “Because the only thing more beautiful than the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight is the way your entire face lights up when you’re laughing.”

Her arms looped over my shoulders before her lips pressed against mine. I lifted her onto the counter so we were face to face, making it much easier to spend the next half hour kissing her. It took all of my self-control not to press forward against her when she wrapped her legs around my waist, hooking her ankles at the small of my back. This morning, I was the one who slowed us, but tonight, I’d let her decide when to stop. Eventually, her legs slid down my hips, and her feet dangled over the floor. She broke our lip-locked contact with a satisfied sigh. “Wow. That was fun.”

I chuckled against her neck as I gave her one last kiss before returning to the cutting board to finish making our salad. “It sure was.”

She realized what I was making and hopped off the counter to help. “I’ll make the garlic toast while you sauté the shrimp. What about dressing? Did you buy one, or were you hoping I’d make it?”

The sizzle of the shrimp hitting the pan was music to my ears. The way the aroma of chopped garlic and fresh dill from the planters mixed together with the melted butter was always a favorite. I folded forward and inhaled. “Both. I’ve always preferred your homemade version, but I didn’t want to assume you’d be up for making it. I picked up the ingredients, so we have them, but I also got the premade version we both like.”

She leaned into the fridge and gathered the needed items. “It won’t take long at all. I don’t mind.”

We worked side by side on our portions of the meal, singing along with the songs streaming through the speakers. The narrow, galley-style kitchen was less than a quarter the size of the kitchen at home, but it was enough for what we needed. We moved in synchronicity throughout the space, never once getting in the way of the other, silently communicating our next movement. Why couldn’t everything between us come as easily as time in the kitchen?

While Annie set the patio table, I poured us each a glass of white wine. We sat across from each other instead of side-by-side as we had at breakfast this morning because it was easier to talk when we could see each other’s eyes. Breakfast and everything today was a date. Dinner was the start of us working through the workbook I’d practically ignored when we started therapy. Last night, I’d spent time reading through the responses to the first six prompts, and I wanted to smack myself. Instead of being honest with myself and her, I’d practically given scripted answers I thought she’d want to hear. I stayed up until almost two fixing them. The only way we could save our marriage was to be honest. Annie opened the small deck of cards that looked like a half-size playing card deck but were actually conversation starter cards. We always started our therapy session with one and then dove into the workbook. We were supposed to use them each night at dinner, too, but we rarely at the same time, so I was certain most of the cards in the deck hadn’t been used before. Even so, Annie shuffled them. She smiled at me across the table, “Fresh start and all that. I figured it’s only fair. Starting tonight, we start over. We’ll go back to the first prompt in the workbook, too. I know I can add to my responses.”

My hand covered hers. “You don’t have to word it that way. We both know you poured your heart into your responses. I gave a single-sentence response of what I thought would satisfy you and get me out of that office. I stayed up last night and reworked all of them.” I leaned forward and lowered my forehead to hers. “I mean it, sweetheart. I’m all in. There is nothing more important to me than this time with you and regaining your trust. I will do anything to prove to you that you are my priority. Not our family. I love our children, but they’re adults, living their lives. There was a time when the three of you needed to be equally prioritized, but not anymore. You. No one but you.”

She shifted her eyes from our hands to meet mine. “I hear the words, Jonas. It’s just going to take some time to know it’s not just words. You know what I mean? I’ve heard it all before.” Her gaze fell to her salad bowl. Her words quieted and were almost lost between the rustling trees and the clanging of the windchimes overheard. “Countless broken promises.”

My hand covering hers gently squeezed while my other thumb grazed across her cheek. “I know I keep saying this, and it will take time before you believe it. I’m sorry. Sweetheart, you are the last person I ever expected to hurt. I can’t go back in time and show up the way I should have. But I’m so thankful you gave me the ultimatum to show up this summer. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” she mumbled before picking up her fork.

I settled into my seat and eyed the cards. “Pick one.”

She flipped over the top card. “Where do you see yourself in five years? Not just physically, but as a person. Focus on how you will change and grow as a person, not on career ambitions. After you each answer, discuss how the other person’s response does or doesn’t align with your vision.”

I swallowed the bite of salad and immediately stabbed a larger forkful because I needed time to think about my response. Annie also forked a bite, but before she ate it, she slid a notebook across the table. “I brought us each a small notebook and pen. I had a feeling some of these questions would be thought-provoking. It might be nice to answer them honestly and then read them. This way, we don’t amend our response after hearing the other. Both of us find writing the hard things easier.”

I nodded as I chewed and flipped the spiral notebook open. The first thing I did was to consider how old I’d be in five years—sixty-two. And Annie would be about to turn sixty. That seemed like a good time to retire fully from both the Caribou and my family’s foundation, or at least step down from running the foundation to a small role on the board. While I knew the prompt specifically said not to solely focus on my career, I couldn’t ignore that completely since it was a huge part of my life. In five years, I could see us living in Seaside for at least half the year. I’d like to travel more and cross places off our lists. I was certain Amber would want to have a baby or two in that time frame, so I’d like to be an active part of their lives. Grandpa sounded like a great title. Annie and I used to talk about adopting a rescue dog, maybe an older one, not a puppy. Long walks with a dog and Annie at my side sounded like a great way to spend a day.

Annie finished writing in her notebook before me but didn’t expect me to rush to finish. Instead, she ate in silence and gave me the time I needed. When I finished writing, I took her hand in mine. “I’m ready. Can I go first?”

She nodded her response as she finished her sip of wine. When I finished reading her the list, she asked, “Just for clarification, you see yourself working for both the team and the foundation for the next five years, then stepping down from roles at both simultaneously, but keeping a smaller board position?”

“Yes. Technically, I’m temporarily not the GM role for the Caribou this season as we launch the foundation, but it’s still mine. And I’m still the owner. I doubt I will ever leave the family’s foundation completely. I won’t have a day-to-day operation role, but I’ll still be a voting member and attend the bi-annual meetings. What about you? What does life look like in five years?”

She picked up her notebook and read it word-for-word. “In five years, I will have called Seaside my home for five years. I’ll split my time between here and traveling. I’ll spend time in San Francisco, but it will no longer be home, and I’ll be a visitor to my children’s homes. After decades of volunteer work and fundraising for foundations, I’m looking forward to attending dinners, dances, and auctions that I didn’t do anything to plan. Mimi sounds like a nice title, and hopefully, one or both of my children will have decided to start a family. I want to spend my days traveling, reading books, walking on the beach, and enjoying everything I worked hard for over the years.”

“That sounds like a great life for you, Annie.” I meant the words. I truly did. But I couldn’t imagine walking away from my family’s foundation completely.

“And yours sounds exactly like your father’s path.” Her notebook fell from her hand with a thump against the table. “Except he never took the smaller role and still works full time. I adore your parents. Don’t let what I’m about to say make you think differently. But you are following the path he took and not the one you and I planned. And that’s what scares me because I know that man will never retire. Your mom is okay with that. I am not. We worked hard for a shared dream, and I’m not sure what happened along the way for the end goal to change. When did you decide not to retire with me? We planned for this house to be our retirement home, and we’d spend most of the year here, then spend the rest traveling and visiting family. When did that change?”

“I’m not sure there was a specific moment. It just happened. Any time I thought about it, it felt too soon. I’m too young. I still have so much to do.”

“With what? You’ve had a phenomenal career on the ice, as a coach, and a GM. You are the reason your family has a sports foundation that partners with the local community. Now you’re expanding that to the point it needs a full-time director. You accepted that role and still plan to hold the GM title. How? I’m unsure because they both need your full attention. I know we are young. Fifty-five, almost fifty-six, and fifty-seven are early for retirement, but we worked hard to plan for this. We postponed things to make this happen. And now it’s time, and you don’t want to. It feels like life with me isn’t enough. I feel like you need reasons to leave the house each day and not be with me. That life with me won’t fulfill you.”

With my elbows resting on the table, I cradled my face in my hands and sighed. That was the last thing I meant. “Oh, Annie. Sweetheart, it’s not like that. That’s not my intent at all. Of course, life with you is enough. I’m looking forward to the time when we have fewer responsibilities. But for me, it’s fewer responsibilities to the foundation, and for you, it’s none. Our definition of retirement is different. That’s something we can work on.”

She turned her notebook to face me and slid it across the table. “If life with just me was really part of your plan, you would have written something about it. I didn’t read the last paragraph I wrote, but you should know.”

My gaze fell to the paper. The thing I’m looking forward to the most about these next five years is living life side-by-side with Jonas each day. For the first time, our schedule will be ours; not dictated by the team schedule, my performances and rehearsals, fundraisers, and family obligations. That’s something we’ve never had. I’ve been looking forward to this time since before our wedding.

I read her words twice before looking across the table at her, unsure how to respond. What do you tell the woman who has waited for your undivided attention for more than thirty years? The first words I thought were, ‘I’m sorry,’ but at this point, I’d said them so many times even I was tired of them. I gathered her hands in mine and raised them to my lips. “There’s a compromise here; I know it. We can find it.”

The pool of tears she’d been holding back streamed down her cheeks. “For more than thirty years, compromise has been synonymous with me giving in. I can’t do that this time, Jonas. It has to be you giving in or us finding an actual middle ground with both agree with.”

I held our hands against my lips, certain if I released my grasp, she’d bolt into the house and lock herself in the bedroom. “Can we each spend some time thinking about a middle ground we would be happy with and then come back and discuss it? Table it for tonight. We both know the other person’s ideal. We can each come up with an option and go from there.”