Page 13 of The Summer Save
I grabbed the jar from the porch railing and headed into the house. When I returned, I snuggled onto the swing and guided her legs over my lap. This had always been one of our two favorite ways to share the swing. The other was with her tucked into my side and her legs outstretched. I’d considered that option, but while my beautiful bookworm read, I had some updates to do with my workbook. Tonight, we were discussing communication. What we did that worked, what didn’t, how we communicated best with other people, if that varied with each other, and how our communication styles were similar. Most importantly, how they differed and what we could do to strengthen communication.
Annie unwrapped the book I’d removed from the shelf and squealed with delight. “I’ve been wanting to read this for ages, but I guess you know that because I say that about everything.”
I gently squeezed her calf. “Which one is it?”
“Choosing Forever by JLynn Autumn. It's a small town romance collection. Each book is one couple’s story. I added it because each couple has a different definition of what forever should look like.”
“Sounds like your type of book, sweetheart.”
She curled onto her side, leaving her legs to rest on my lap while she read. I opened the workbook and scanned my half-assed initial responses and, after mentally scolding myself for being such an ass, I began doing the work I should have done the first time. Two hours later, I was stumped. The thump of my pen against the workbook played in perfect harmony with the soft music Annie had chosen. She shifted slightly, folded forward, and pressed her lips against my upper arm. “Hey, it’s okay to take a break. It’s okay to leave something blank. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Sometimes not knowing is just as important.”
“But, Annie, I should know. We’ve been together for 35 years and married for 30. I should know how I communicate with you compared to others. Is it the same? Is it drastically different? Does it look similar to how you communicate with me? I don’t know. And I should.”
“This was a hard one. I had the benefit of being in therapy and getting suggestions. It took me two sessions. She told me to look at how I talk to and share information with my closest friend, the kids, our family, and you. And to compare it. Is my preference for face-to-face interactions, phone calls, text messages, emails, or a combination? Does it change depending on whether it’s good news or bad news or whether it's an easy versus tough topic? You’re trying to do what it took me days to do in two hours. I don’t expect it to be perfect. It just needs to be honest. Plus, we can talk about this together and figure it out. That’s part of being a team.”
I tucked my pen into the pages before closing the workbook and setting it on the side table. “I think I’ve done all I can. I really focused on work versus family versus the kids. And then tried to see how it was the same or different with you. My main takeaway was that when I don’t want to see the hurt in your eyes or the disappointment, I write it down and leave it for you to find on the kitchen counter. And that’s not fair to you.”
“No, it’s not. And it might have been snarky and rude for me to do the same to you when I requested or demanded your presence this summer, but I needed you to know what it felt like.”
“Absolute shit. Like I wasn’t worth talking to face-to-face or even worth a quick phone call. I was angry at first, but then I realized why you did it. And I understood why you turned off your phone so I couldn’t reach you. It forced my hand. Show up and work for it, or don’t and walk away.” I turned slightly and lowered my forehead to hers. “There was no way I was walking away.”
“Everything about these first few days together this summer has been perfect. Could it be this easy? Or are we under Seaside’s spell, where everything about this place is magical? That’s why we bought this house, right? Because we couldn’t imagine a better place to vacation than where we met and fell in love. We wanted to be here because this is the one place we’ve always been focused on us, with no career obligations. Nothing was distracting us from each other and later our little family of four.”
I’d never thought about it like that. Sure, each summer here was perfect, but that’s how everyone describes summers in their young adult lives. To me, buying the house gave us a place of our own here, instead of sharing with Annie’s family. Our kids had their own rooms, not bunks in a loft with cousins. We had privacy. Our Seaside home was our sanctuary from the chaos of our daily lives. “I can see where one might describe this place as magical and how it feels like slipping under a spell when you arrive and immediately adjust to a slower pace. It’s easy to relax here. Maybe things are easy for us to reconnect because we’re putting in the effort and making each other a priority. Something we should have been doing each day no matter where we were.”
She looped her arms over my neck, nuzzled her face into my neck, and sighed. “I want Seaside us all the time. I like who we are here. If this us was who we were all the time, life would be easy, and I wouldn’t be scared about losing our marriage. This is the us I want. Can we figure out a way to be these people all the time?”
My arm rested across her back, holding her tight against me. “We are these people, sweetheart. They’re always there.” She groaned against my neck. “But I understand what you mean. Yes, I think we can be these people anywhere.”
We sat in silence for almost a half hour, each of us likely thinking about how to make good on my promise that we could be Seaside us anywhere.
After almost a week of waking each morning to Jonas in the kitchen preparing breakfast or sitting in the living room enjoying coffee with a book on his lap, it was almost eerie to wake to a silent house. Yesterday, we ran into Michael while we were at the market. He invited Jonas to fill in with his golf group. Their regular fourth was on vacation. At first, Jonas declined, using the excuse he hadn’t packed his clubs. But I reminded him that he kept an old set in the garage. Sure, it wasn’t the fancy, custom set he had back in San Francisco, but they had been a favorite for years. The way he whispered, ‘Are you sure?’ against my ear told me he’d really declined because he wanted to keep his promise to me that his focus would be on us this summer.
A little time apart this morning would be good for us. Once I knew their tee time, I called Mer and arranged to head to her place for some much-needed girl chat. She said it was perfect timing because she wanted to dye her hair and needed help. Why she doesn’t go to a salon is beyond me, but I told her I would help the best I could. I didn’t have much experience with at-home color because I’d never used it. I’d considered it over the last few years as the gray was coming in heavier, but I wasn’t sure what to do. Getting older wasn’t for the faint of heart. Each time I looked in the mirror, I noticed a few more lines around my eyes or lips, or another hair under my chin. It’s still completely unfair that men look distinguished or handsome as they age. I just look old.
Once I threw a few things into my purse, I headed to the kitchen to make coffee and grab a quick breakfast before heading out. A note was waiting for me on the counter next to a travel mug.
Good morning, Sweetheart
Enjoy your time with Meredith. I’m sure I’ll beat you home. Don’t rush. Spend as much time as you want. I made breakfast before heading to the course. There’s a yogurt parfait waiting for you in the fridge and coffee in the French press. I’ll see you later this afternoon. I’m thinking homemade pizza while we do some of the conversation card exercises and then a movie as our date tonight. Or text me something else, and we can do that. I don’t care what we do as long as I get time with you.
Love,
Jonas
After pulling my breakfast from the fridge and pouring coffee into the travel mug, I sent Jonas a text.
Your plans for our evening sound perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing about it.
I took my breakfast to go, and by the time I pulled into Mer’s driveway, I had a response.
When I get home from the course, I’ll set up the living room for date night. BTW I really like referring to the summer house as home. I’m unsure how to make that possible year-round right away, but I mean it when I say it IS my long-term goal. Trust me, sweetheart. I’m going to figure out how to make this work.
See you this afternoon. Enjoy your time on the course.
I left everything I wanted to say about the promise to make Seaside our home unspoken because it wouldn’t do any good right now. If there was a way for us to finally start our retirement together here, the way we’d talked about it, and for Jonas to continue his roles with his family’s businesses, I would have thought of it. I’d been through countless scenarios during the therapy sessions he hadn’t shown up for. Plus endless more while I paced across the bedroom floor on sleepless nights. There wasn’t an option that didn’t require me to sacrifice the retirement life I’d worked hard for and planned so many years ago. Maybe I was selfish, but I didn’t want our life in San Francisco anymore. I wanted something I’d only ever had in Seaside—my husband’s undivided attention, and to be his priority. For thirty-five years, I’d shared him with the fans and his family’s obligations for ten or eleven months each year. It was my turn now. I had waited long enough.
Sometimes, I wondered if Jonas remembered that buying the house was his idea. He wanted us to have our own space for our little family each summer. He sold me on the idea when he added, ‘Then when we retire, we’ll move here and live in the house filled with memories of our kids each summer. When they visit, they won’t be coming to a place that’s never been theirs. Instead, it will be like coming to their second home.’ It was likely time for me to remind him of that, but not tonight. Things have been falling into place so nicely for us. I wanted another night of peace before rocking the boat. I knew avoiding tough conversations wasn’t healthy, but I wasn’t pushing them into a box in the back of the closet. I was simply waiting for one day. We could have that tough conversation tomorrow.