A Million Way's To Love You™∽For All Time∽♥Book 5

~Chapter 75~

*Michael's Point Of View*

Compromise, a valuable word in a marriage. Compromising leads partners on a much safer road of happiness in their marriage. With compromise, there can be a sense of promised peace. Without compromise, the wreak of havoc will cause nothing but dismay.

I'm trying to compromise with Marilyn. I really am. I love her enough to try to ignore her seemingly unappreciative approach to this trip. Seemingly, my efforts aren't working.

Marilyn is understandably hormonal. She's also very worried about leaving the kids for a week. I understand these set backs completely, but I don't understand why she just won't at least try to enjoy this trip. But, opposed from all of the off sets that has started, I have still managed to devise a plan that will hopefullty revive both of our spirits.

My intial plan was to go sight seeiing, but everyone does when vactioning. Instead, I want to take Marilyn to a nice massaging class. I've heard of Europe's prestigest spa's that offer classes. I don't know how she will be able to deal with it, being that she is hormonal, but I think it's worth a try.

This morning, day two of our trip in Europe, I decided to wake up extra early. I want to surprise Marilyn with a nice breakfast. I guess it's safe to say, I want this trip to kind of recap our honeymoon. I just want to remind her, how special that week in Miami was for us, for me, for her. Yeah, I'm corny, I know.

With my objective in mind, I awoke at merely five this morning, dragging myself into the bathroom for a shower. By fiv-thirty, I am cleaned and neatly dressed in my infamous midnight slacks and white V-neck. Next chore, calling Bill and giving him his tasks for the children.

I know it was quite late for him there, but I knew he would still answer. I may be on vacation, but I am never off from my fatherly duties.

After clearing things with Bill, I rush downstairs to prepare Marilyn's and I breakfast. I smile to myself as I descend the stairs. I absolutely love this hotel suite. I was so agitated when we first arrived, that I didn't even take in the beauty of this suite.

It is elaborate, exsquisite, and homely. From it's simple European approach to pastel colors, to it's homely decorum of plush pillows and lovely straw lawn chairs. The suite is even more mesmorizing because of our view of the beach behind our kitchen.

How could anyone not enjoy this?

Resuming my mission, I slide into the kitchen. Taking a little stride towards the refridgorator, I search for any sign of feasable produce. I'm not the best cook, but I can pretty much make use of anything. Today, I'm given the use of banana's, whole grain-wheat bread, oatmeal, sweetened alomd milk, and a few other berries. Sighing heavily, I shake my head and prepare to work with this.

Slipping my phone from my pocket, I quickly research a recipe that included these few items. Fruit smoothie, honey on banana toasted wheat bread, and oatmeal (using the almond milk as a part of the peparation) it seemed promising.

Not even ten minutes into my cookig episode did my cellphone interupt me for other business. I ignore the first two rings as I continued shopping the fruit. I previously made sure that my business would not interrupt this vacation. I don't need stress and neither dfoes Marilyn. But, of course, people in my industry don't understand that what so ever.

Upon the fourth ring, I groan in agitation before answering.

*"Hello?"

"Hello, Mister Jackson?"

"Yes, this is him. May I ask who it is that I'm speaking to?"

"Mister Ford. Jeremy Ford, the adoption attorney"