Late May 1990 . . .
It was the week before Memorial Day, last week, when she asked a question
I thought I’d never have to answer. After all, we had a bond; we were on
the same wavelength. So this question wasn’t expected, when she hit me
with it. Maybe she was stressed from work.
The week before Memorial Day was and is always busy for people in our line
of work. On that Monday tourists bombard the city, and the Agency is
buzzing a million miles a minute, trying to predict and stay ahead of
trouble. Arriving home exhausted would be typical for a little while.
Amanda mostly works on her project with the daycare, since it’s due to
open in about six months. This was her brainchild, “conceived,” as it
were, while she was pregnant with our son, Michael. During the heightened
security for the holiday, she had broken off with that to help me.
The evening she asked this question wasn’t different than the day before,
or any day before that since we’d been both married, and living, in the
same house. Since that day nearly two years ago, I’ve come to love it
more than I ever thought I would.
My two stepsons, Phillip and Jamie, are both in high school. Phillip’s
finishing his junior year; Jamie is ending his freshman year. Both young
men are outgoing, charming and brilliant in their own ways. They both
hate homework and chores, and love movies and girls.
The youngest man in our house, Michael, well, he is pretty busy doing baby
stuff. Eighteen months old, he already has a strong personality. He
really likes hanging out with his daddy, which pleases me to no amazing
end. His babysitter, Mrs. Anderson, lives just a few doors down, so the
older boys pick him up after school. The Andersons have a baby girl a few
months younger than our son. AnnaRose is a playmate for Michael, and I
like to tease Phillip and Jamie that at least ONE man in the house has a
girlfriend.
.
Thinking back on last week, to that question . . . that day had been a
quiet Sunday. Just recently, I turned forty . . . maybe that was what
brought on the question. We were in bed and I was about to fall asleep.
Amanda shifted, placing her palm on my chest, and then her chin on the
back of her hand. I could feel her looking at me, something I’ve always
chalked up to our bond with each other.
“Lee?”
“Hmm.” I tried to sound equally neutral.
“Do you ever think it would be better to be out in the world, single
again, traveling, and taking the risky assignments?”
My first thought was, what the Hell? That wasn’t a fair question was it?
Did she want to leave me? No, no way. Not after three years of marriage,
there’d have to be a clue about it. Wouldn’t there? Oh damn. So I said,
“What do you mean, exactly?”
She leaned up on her elbow, her head on her fist. “Well, before we met,
you were able to travel to Europe and vacation in the Bahamas…you were
footloose and fancy free. Not a care in the world. Do you ever wish
those days would come back?”
If she hadn’t been so serious, I would’ve laughed. The answer, to me, was
obvious. Of course I’d traveled here and there in my younger days. I’ve
seen the most beautiful, picturesque places in the world. At one point in
my life, four walls would have boxed me in. Not now, though. Since our
marriage, the view I prefer is from the outside looking in. It’s funny in
its own right that I did so much of that looking from the kitchen window,
or the window of the back door. Truthfully, I’m not in search of
adventures and girls. I’ve got what I need.
I realized I hadn’t answered her, so I took a deep breath and tried to
explain. “Amanda, it’s not like that for me anymore. Look at our kids.
I wouldn’t trade any of them for that life. And I wouldn’t leave them
behind to get it back again. I look forward to coming home to you and our
children. I mean, sure, I used to live for clubs and girls. Now I have a
whole new list of reasons to be glad I don’t roam. Every member of this
family is on that list. So . . . What’s brought on this sudden
curiosity?”
“Nothing, really.”
“Amanda, that’s not an answer. Something has to be bothering you. Did I
forget to empty the diaper pail again?” I didn’t think I’d forgotten, but
something was definitely bugging her.
“You’ve just seemed kind of, I don’t know, restless lately. And we
haven’t had much time together, before tonight. I can’t believe we got
Michael to bed half an hour early.” She finally spoke up without giving me
a hint as to why she was upset.
“Must have been that extra playground time.” I didn’t push for more of an
answer from her immediately. She was right about Michael going to bed
early. Our youngest son really does love to play in the sandbox. He
wouldn’t have come home from the park if I hadn’t plucked him out of the
miniature desert-world. It was only about eight feet square, but with our
child for comparison, it was gigantic.
“Maybe it was the playground,” she mumbled agreement.
I maneuvered myself to give her a quick kiss and run my hand through her
dark brown tresses. “Amanda, stop worrying. Next week is going to be
hectic, so if I have seemed anxious, or restless, or whatever it is, I’ll
apologize now. I bet that by the time Wednesday hits, we’ll be right in
the swing of things and the week’ll be over before we know it.”
I could see her smile, in the little moonlight that was coming through the
curtains. Encouraged by this I added, “Don’t worry, I’m not going
anywhere. You’ve caught this fish for life.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows at me and gave me a wanton look.
“Uh huh,” I leaned in to kiss her before I realized she’d tricked me by
sneaking her fingers under my ribs. Like an ensnared trout, I flopped on
the bed, gasping for breath and purely out of self preservation (at least
that’s what I told her later) I grabbed both her arms, pinning them firmly
to her sides, and kissed her as passionately as my exhausted, half
sleepy body could muster that time of night. This was just the thing
needed to subdue her. Her torture attempts subsided and we settled down
in bed again.
“So you know how I see, it, right?” I asked her, just to be sure.
“How’s that?” she asked.
I ran my hand through her hair again and rubbed the arm that she had
wrapped across my chest, “My life’s better from the outside looking in. I
could wander the world and never be happy with what I see outside our
kitchen window, but when I get home, and stand just at the edge of the
living room and see Jamie and Phillip watching TV together and Michael on
your hip while you finish up dinner . . . and Dotty, when she comes over,
well . . . looking in, watching all of you . . . I know that’s exactly
what I want. It’s what I want forever.”
“Me, too,” she sighed and settled down to sleep.
“You’re simply amazing,” I said and stared down at her sleeping form and
decided I’d better get my winks in before the sun came up, closed my eyes,
and waited for morning.
The End
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: None of the SMK characters belong to me, and I have in no way harmed them during this writing.