The Marriage Intervention (9 page)

She opened her mouth to speak, but Paul interrupted her, again. “Don’t answer. Third, why do they think it’s okay to just make an appointment for us with some quack we don’t even know? Don’t answer. They think it’s okay because aside from being women, the three of you are perfectly comfortable interfering in each other’s lives. Like when Delaney and a pregnant Summer climbed up the ancient fire escape at your school to make sure you went to your interview. I can’t believe Derek let that fly.”
 

“See? We have lots to talk about with Dr. Strasser,” she said, purposely omitting Derek’s reaction which had been to say he wanted to forbid Summer from spending time with Josie and Delaney (only, he hadn’t, because he knew she’d get into even more dangerous shenanigans sneaking out to see them).
 

 
Josie had put on her shoes and jewelry by this time, and she bent down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
 

“I’ll see you at four.”
 

As she walked out the front door, she could have sworn she heard him muttering, “Your mother would think we’re crazy.”
 

She pretended not to notice, because she knew he was right.

***

Josie was habitually late to everything except work, so she didn’t understand why Dr. Strasser took such offense to her being late to the first counseling appointment. It was only ten minutes.
 

Of course, Paul showed up five minutes early.
 

“I’m a cop,” he often reminded her. “On time is late. Early is on time.”
 

When she finally rushed into the office, Paul looked bored and the illustrious Dr. Strasser looked irritated.
 

I thought psychologists weren’t supposed to look irritated.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I got caught up in something at work.”
 

“Ms. Garcia,” Dr. Strasser said. “I value my own time. I value your time. And I value your marriage as I hope you do. Please arrive at the scheduled appointment time in the future.”
 

Josie looked at Paul, hoping for some kind of silent moral support, some there-won’t-be-a-next-time shrug or eyebrow raise, but he continued to stare straight ahead as if she hadn’t entered the room.
 

“I apologize,” she said in a voice that sounded stiff and huffy even to her own ears.

She sat down in the chair next to her husband and put her purse on her lap. Dr. Strasser’s eyes flicked to her purse and then back to her face.
 

“As you know, I’m Dr. Strasser,” he said. “You may call me Dr. Strasser, Dr. S., or John. Let’s jump right in. Why are you here?”
 

Josie realized she was clutching her purse like a life preserver and forced her hands to relax. Her eyes snapped over to Paul, but he continued staring straight ahead.
 

“Um, okay,” Josie said. “We’re here because I feel like we’ve drifted apart. We rarely see each other anymore, and when we do, Paul is distracted with work. His work is way more important to him than our marriage is.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Paul flinch.
 

Oops. Didn’t really mean to say that. But I guess that’s how I feel, so…
 

Dr. John Strasser nodded.
 

“Paul, why don’t you give me your reason for being here.”
 

Her husband smirked at her, and for that split second, she recognized the old Paul. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and take his hand. But the expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
 

“Josie made me come,” he said.
 

Dr. Strasser smiled, but it was a thin, almost condescending smile and instead of answering, he continued looking at Paul, forcing him to provide a better answer.
 

“Geez, this is worse than being on the stand in a courtroom,” Paul said. He shifted in his chair. “The truth is, I thought things were fine until Josie said she wanted to work on our marriage. I admit she’s been a little, um, critical lately, and I’m often relieved when I get called into work on my days off. But I just thought it was, you know, that time of the month or something. She seems happy at work, she’ll be the principal next year. I mean, I didn’t really think anything was wrong. All relationships have their ups and downs, right?”
 

“Yes, they do,” Dr. Strasser said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t decrease the frequency and severity of those down cycles. Now. I don’t want to make any assumptions here, so let me ask each of you a question. At this point do you want to remain together, to stay married?”
 

Josie laughed, an ugly, barking sound, and looked at Paul.
 

“Of course,” she said. “We both do.”
 

A tiny flame of fear flickered somewhere between her chest and her throat. Did Paul want to stay together? He hadn’t said anything to indicate otherwise. He thought their marriage was fine. Fine! But who wanted fine? Who wanted mediocre? Shouldn’t their marriage be good, or even great?
 

Not even a second had passed, but Dr. Strasser was looking expectantly at Paul. Josie’s stomach fluttered wildly.
 

To her immense relief, Paul nodded. “Of course,” he said.
 

“Good. Okay. Let’s begin with what
is
working. What’s good about your marriage?”
 

“He’s my best friend,” Josie said.
 

“Oh, really?” Paul answered. “I am pretty sure—positive, actually—that Summer and Delaney are your best friends.”

Yikes.
 

“We tell each other everything,” Josie said.
 

“No offense, Josie, but I think you might be delusional. You didn’t even tell me we were having problems.”
 

“I’d think you would have noticed on your own.”

“Let’s not turn this into an argument,” Dr. Strasser cut in. “I just want each of you to share a few things that are working for you. Josie’s given us one. It’s your turn, Paul. What is working right now?”

Paul shrugged.
 

“Well, I feel kind of stupid saying this now, but I always thought Josie was supportive of my career. We both have big aspirations and I thought it was something we had in common.”
 

“I
am
supportive of your career!”
 

Both Paul and Dr. Strasser looked surprised at Josie’s outburst, which exited her mouth in a shriek. “I am supportive,” she said in a calmer voice. “But not when it completely ruins any time we have together.”
 

“Perhaps I should have done this at the beginning, but I wanted to jump right in since you were a bit late,” Dr. Strasser said. Josie closed her eyes to keep from rolling them and Dr. Strasser went on, “Let’s lay a few ground rules. During every appointment, I will ask questions that I want each of you to answer without interference from the other. I promise you, you’ll get a chance to respond. In fact—” he paused and opened a desk drawer, producing two pads of lined paper and two pens, which he handed to Josie and Paul— “Here. Take notes. This way you won’t forget what you want to say.”
 

The rest of their appointment was fairly amicable, if a little uncomfortable. And very revealing.
 

Apparently, Paul felt like their sex life had gone downhill to the point of being completely nonexistent. He felt like Josie was a hypocrite for talking about how his work had taken over his life. He even said she had evolved into a cold, closed-off stranger with a propensity for angry outbursts.

“So you said you thought everything was fine, but it didn’t take much prodding from Dr. Strasser here to bring all of this to light,” Josie said after he poured his heart out, and all his other organs, too.

He just shrugged.
 

“I want to give you some homework,” Dr. Strasser said. “In your notebooks, I want you to describe the best time in your marriage, and the time when you’ve felt like it was at its weakest. For each entry, write down how you felt during those times.”

“And don’t worry,” he added when they both remained silent. “The end of the first appointment always feels a bit … well, a bit depressing. I have a feeling with you two that things will get better from here. Chins up.”
 

***

The Best Times

Josie underlined the three words, then sighed and set down her pencil.
 

“Nothing, huh?” Paul looked at her from the opposite end of the couch.
 

He was so handsome, she thought, with his dark hair and five o’clock shadow. His eyes twinkled at her.
 

Maybe sharing a nemesis will be good for us. Stop it. Dr. Strasser isn’t a nemesis. We’re paying him to help us.
 

She felt like crying and laughing. Summer’s kids had a name for that. Craughing. It wasn’t that she didn’t have anything to write down on her “The Best Times” homework assignment. It was just that she missed those times.
 

Because she felt herself bordering on hysteria, Josie stood up.
 

“I have lots of things, actually,” she said. “But I think it’s better if I do this alone.”
 

Rather than responding, Paul looked back down at his own notepad.
 

Josie could see his writing already scrawled over half a page. She sighed and wondered whether he had written about the New Year’s Eve when they were both so sick with a stomach virus they fell asleep on the couch watching TV, waiting for the ball to drop in New York City. They woke up drenched in sweat at two a.m., their fevers broken, and hobbled to bed where they fell asleep in each other’s arms. It wasn’t the most celebratory New Year’s Eve, but for some strange reason it was one of their mutual favorites. Maybe he wrote about the time they went horseback riding and she fell off within a few feet of the trailhead. She refused to get back on, and they both ended up walking the horses back to the stable. They went for a beer at a new pub, joking that trying out a new brew was just as adventurous as going for a trail ride.

Locked in their bedroom, Josie was able to concentrate. She found that once she began writing, the words flowed effortlessly.

I guess what initially attracted me to Paul was that what you see is what you get. No secrets, no pre-planned stories, no contrived situations.
 

His marriage proposal is a perfect example.
 

He dragged me out for a hike on Granite Mountain (I hate hiking and really, exercise of any kind aside from exercise in the bedroom. But isn’t the beginning of any relationship the best time for forcing your significant other to try new things?). The lookout at the peak is nothing short of incredible. How could it not be romantic?
 

So we’re standing there, and Paul is taking in the views, I mean just soaking them up like he’s never seen anything so beautiful. And I’m behind him, huffing and puffing with my hands on my knees like I’ve never hiked up such a high mountain. At that time, I hadn’t.
 

After the next few minutes, which I spent getting my breathing and heart rate almost back to normal, I finally brought myself to a standing position and took a few wobbly steps toward Paul. He turned to face me, and we were both grinning like idiots.
 

It seemed natural to put our arms around each other, and we stood there looking out over Juniper for a few minutes in silence.
 

I remember these moments so clearly. “It’s pretty awesome, right?” he asked me. “It’s awesome, but I’m not sure it’s worth the hike,” I said.
 

He said, “I wasn’t talking about the view, Josie. Being together is awesome. Whether we’re hiking or… shopping.”
 

We both laughed, but then he turned me toward him, his hands on my shoulders. He looked so intense all of a sudden.
 

“I want to marry you,” he said, still looking straight into my eyes. “I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?”
 

“Yes” came right out of my mouth. I didn’t even have to think about it. I wasn’t even surprised or shocked. I think I somehow knew our relationship would come to this. I knew we were meant to be together. I knew I wanted to marry him. Even if he’d tried to kill me by dragging me on that ridiculous hike.
 

We were giddy all the way down that mountainside.
 

He later told me he hadn’t planned to propose that day. He had thought about asking me, but wanted to do something more romantic. Something with candles and flowers and a fancy dinner. But the moment was so perfect, he asked me right then.
 

And you know what? I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
 

How did I feel at that moment? I felt happy. Over-the-top happy. I felt surprised. I felt out of breath. Not only because I’d hiked up that damned mountain, but also because I was so in love with this man and I couldn’t wait to begin our life together.
 

Josie couldn’t believe she’d almost slipped and told Scott Smith she once believed they were soul mates. The Romeo and Juliet of Juniper. Each of them should want to die rather than be apart (yes, Mama would be turning over in her proverbial grave).
 

Surely Scott would have latched onto that, begged her to reexamine the possibility over drinks, to consider being with him now.
 

How could she be so stupid?
 

Of course they weren’t star-crossed lovers. Scott Smith was a secretive man (a charming man, too, she’d give him that), and she never knew what he was really thinking. For all she knew, his whispered proclamations of never-ending love were simply pre-planned steps to make his contrived story of heartbreak more realistic.