Anyway, rather than casting another countless critical jab at Erica, he took my hand and looked at my red nails. I’d been getting my nails done for years, and he’d never once taken myhand and appreciated my nails. What had gotten into this guy? If he wasn’t careful, I was going to give him a ride later that he wouldn’t be able to handle.
“They’re stunning,” he said. “You’re stunning.” His compliments actually sounded sincere. He backed up and looked at my feet. I wore delicious red, pointy-toe stiletto mules, and I modeled my legs and feet for him like he was window shopping. He gave me another compliment, and I swear, I remember thinking I couldn’t handle many more. He’d buttered me up so well, he could have asked me for anything in the world at that moment, and I would have said, “Yes!”
How about a threesome?
Why not four? Let’s go to Vegas right now.
Do you mind if I take a week off and go with the guys to Canada to watch hockey?
Do I mind? Of course not! Take two weeks!
Do you mind doing the dishes?
Not at all! I don’t want you doing the dishes, Rory. You’ve worked too hard already today.
Hey, maybe we should talk about chickens. And ducks, even.
No, dear. That was just a silly dream. I don’t need birds. Forget the B&B too. All I need is you.
You get the picture.
As if he couldn’t have laid it on any thicker, he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
I nearly dropped my glass. That was a question I hadn’t heard since Jasper was in diapers. “Why, yes, I’m sure,” I said, trying to think of something. Anything. “Why don't you make your delicious garlic bread?”
“I’d be happy to.”
Was this happening? Is this how all marriages come back together? A year of hard work and then one day it’s back? Just like it hadn’t been lost? Here we are. Right where we started. I was insuch a happy fog, I didn’t dare consider any other alternative than the truth: I’d shown him how to love again.
So often those days we’d eaten at the island or in front of the television in the living room. Not tonight. We sat at the dining-room table facing each other. Rory dimmed the lights on the chandelier and lit two tall white candles that flickered warm light between us. We didn’t once talk about his work or his projected career path. He asked me questions, and I happily answered.
Then I asked him questions, just like you do when you’re in the earlier stages of a relationship. No questions about work, but about hockey and where he wanted to travel next. What he and Jasper might do over the holidays for some father-son time. So many times lately, our conversations had been difficult. Not tonight. We were reconnecting like lovers who’d been torn apart by war.
After dinner,he suggested a Skype session with Jasper before we get back to business, as in bedroom business. Delighted at the idea, I texted our son and gave him a heads up, and when he rang us, Rory and I scooted our chairs together. We squeezed our heads into the screen and offered a collective, “Hi, kiddo!”
“Um, hi? What’s going on?” Jasper must have thought we were drunk. It had been a while since he’d seen us glimmering so.
“What’s going on?” I said. “We miss you.”
“You just seem different.”
“We’re having a stay-at-home date. Pasta by candlelight, Van Morrison?—”
“Yeah, okay, I get the picture. Let’s stop right there.”
The three of us shared a laugh that had been needed for a long time.
To have Jasper join this wonderful night was a dream cometrue. We talked about his music camp for a while, and then he said something about considering a Texas school for college so he could be near a teacher he was studying with. I shut down for a moment. I wasnotready for thoughts of an empty nest. In fact, I’m not sure I’d ever be. I would be perfectly fine if Jasper wanted to spend the rest of his life living with us. What? Do you think that’s weird?
Collecting myself, I asked him exactly what he’d learned, and Jasper told us about his latest discoveries with harmonic minor and then turned my brain to mush with some deep time-signature talk. Though I was a music major, he’d already far surpassed my understanding.
Rory was simply beyond clueless about all of it, as he didn’t have a musical bone in his body. Though he enjoyed listening, he couldn’t carry a tune or hold a beat if his life depended on it. In fact, I’m surprised Rory’s lack of musicality hadn’t canceled out the musical genes I’d passed on to Jasper.
Somehow, our son had been born a musical genius. I could hardly wait to see where his talent would lead him and where his career path would go. I believed, as all his teachers had assured us, that he would be remembered for his musical contributions long after he was gone. He had that caliber of ability, talent, and drive.
We eventually said goodbye to our son and closed the laptop, and Rory and I did the dishes. I suppose our libidos had cooled off enough to make us behave like old people again, needing to tend to the dishes, clean the counter, and feed the dog.
There was still beauty in the night though.
