Between Octobers

January 4th

January 4th

It was a new normal. No Lily, no Maria, and hardly any Marcus. It had been just us and the kids. That was the way we preferred it, but I still wished Lily would start taking my calls. I went by her apartment last week to call a truce, but we just got into a bigger fight.

She felt slighted because I married a stranger. She thought Evan was crowding her out. She was my life-long friend, my family. Evan was my husband, a part of me. Wife and Sister; they were two completely different roles that worked within close proximity. She thought of Evan as an intrusion. It was absurd, but whether it made sense to me or not wasn't important. It was how she felt and I couldn't discount her because we disagreed. But we both needed some space right now.  

The hours had turned to days, the days melted to weeks and now, much too soon, Evan had to leave again. The first trip was only a few days, but it was miserable. He'd been back about a week and neither of us were looking forward to his leaving again.

On the couch beside him, I scuttled a little closer, unable to keep myself away. I'd noticed the way I unconsciously held onto him, whether a subtle pat on the shoulder or tugging at his shirt while we walked. Some part of me had to touch part of him.

He smiled, stroking my cheek with his thumb as he continued telling me about his recent trip to New York. "It was rather irritating. I expected some to ask after you, but I didn't think every single one would."

"What did you do?" My tone went up an octave.

"I hope I appeared genuinely surprised when Sheri cut off the interviews."

"You did." She peeked up from her Blackberry and assured him from the sofa opposite us.  

"I wanted to punch most of them before they even asked the question." A smug smile drew up the corners of his mouth. "It's no small wonder I've never been able to quit smoking. The pressure is amazing." His manner was so at ease, I found it hard to imagine that he could've been as upset as he described. But he had been smoking more often since he returned.

I responded by leaning in closer. He lifted his arm and set it around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. 

"When does your plane take off?"

He looked intently at me. I stared back, concentrating, trying to burn the image of us into my mind.      

"Eleven a.m." Less than a day. It would be four months before we sat like this again.

Sheri was laughing at Caleb as he tried to blow bubbles the old-fashioned way. She'd convinced him that using his bubble gun was a cheater's method. Her phone rang, she answered in a professional tone and excused herself. She shoved Caleb out the back door to supervise the proper use and technique as he blew sputtering breaths into the bubble wand. 

Evan pressed his palm against my cheek. I pressed it to my lips, savoring the feel of his soft skin and wonderful scent. He leaned in, burying his nose in my hair and inhaling. My mind ran over all the miserable days I'd to be forced to muddle through without him.

"I want you all on the plane with me tomorrow."

Tears pricked at my eyes. We'd been over it so many times. It made no sense to pack up the kids, to uproot their lives, for six weeks. And they'd just started back at school. "Evan. I can't."

"Promise you'll come see me every weekend." 

"Every chance I get." I kissed his shoulder through his shirt.

"I miss you already." He cradled my head against his chest.

Sheri burst in through the back door. I sat forward—her stern look of concern alarmed me. Evan settled deeper into the couch, slouching back and closing his eyes.