I don't know if it was the unrelenting heat or the penetrating humidity. It could have been the oppressive pressure of high debt and low hope. Regardless, it all contributed to the slow downward spiral of marital misery.
I didn't know if this is just the way married people act after seven years or if they just happen to drift out of touch with each other. I started to wonder if anyone out there was happy, I mean, really happy. The happiness you felt on your honeymoon. The happiness you wore proudly on your face even though you may try to hide it.
I certainly didn't show that smile anymore. I had a hard time even remembering what it looked like. Here I am, driving my wife to visit an old workmate of hers. Driving our older car that was held together with spit and glue. Of course, the air conditioning no longer worked. It did until the hottest August in memory set in and stayed like an unwelcome relative.
My wife Rene was sitting as far away from me as you could get. I'm not sure if the sneer on her face was intended for me, or just the way that our life has turned out. I tried to make conversation, but she answered with quick short answers. She didn't end her statements with "you worthless bastard" but she might as well have.
I studied her look, her posture. She was and still is a very pretty woman. Long jet-black hair (from her Irish heritage) that could gracefully fall over her perky breasts, but was tied in a ponytail. She kept her figure in shape.
I can remember us being nude on the beaches in France, making love for days at a time when I came back from long overseas assignments. I remember how much fun it was to go lingerie shopping with her and driving home at 90 mph to see her wear it.
But now, she worked in a sterile hospital supply inventory room. She wore white lab coats for work and quit wearing make-up. Lingerie was replaced with sweatshirts and running shorts.
I silently wished that I could return to our happiness and our honeymoon behavior, but I knew that part of our life was history. Internally, I knew that I was worsening the possibility of success as I was even mentally starting to divvy up the furniture and debt in my mind. I hope that she hadn't reached the same point.
We pulled into the long driveway of the rural home of Max and his wife Stephanie. Rene used to work with Max. They were good coffee break pals. They even used to go out have cocktails and cheer each other up. Their boss was unbearable and demeaning. I'm sure that the only reason they stayed as long as they did was because of their mutual support.
They tried several times to have the four of us be friends, but it was clear that Steph and I weren't on the same page. I didn't dislike her; she just seemed to be distant. And believe me, I didn't really need anymore distant people in my life. The winding and hilly driveway was longer than the block we lived on. We finally got to a clearing and saw their large farm style two-story house. It was situated on several hundred acres of meadows and small bits of forest. It was serene and quiet. Max and a large barking dog greeted us.
Max still had unruly black curly hair. He is an attractive six-foot tall man. He still sported the unmistakable swagger of confidence and achievement. He started his own company and was doing very well. He tried many times to hire Rene, but she didn't want to ruin their friendship, so she chose to stay in her unhappy, unfriendly job.
Max, as usual, had a large smile and hug for Rene; He offered a weak handshake and courteous "Hello Joe" for me. The dog sniffed us both and left for more interesting pursuits. Stephanie was leaning on the doorframe. She surprisingly looked very nice to me. Her long blonde hair was blowing with the hot air. The wind billowed up her ankle length cotton dress. For the first time ever, I became modestly interested in what she might be wearing underneath her dress.
Max was insufferable in touching Rene's arm and back while directing her around the house. I liked their setup. It was similar to one of the romantic bed and breakfasts you see in magazines while waiting for an appointment. I could also see the slow change in attitude in Rene. She no longer was the door-hugging ice-queen; she now was cheerful and happy. I felt jealous at first. I wanted to be the one to make her feel like this, but gave way to just being happy that she was happy.
Steph handed us both tall lemonade. A quick taste told me that it was laced pretty heavy with vodka. Rene, with a sultry smile, said, "I think you're trying to get me drunk".
Max said "yup" very quickly. "We want you too drunk to drive, so you can spend the night with us. We get very lonely out here in the middle of nowhere".
"But we didn't bring a change of clothes," I said even quicker than Max's' invitation.
"No problem", said Steph.
"We'll see," sprang out of Rene's mouth like a wavering mom addressing an insistent child.
Our hosts gave us an in-depth tour of their home. It was fun and inspiring to see how good that they've done. Everything was high quality. Whether it was furniture or computers and stereo equipment, it was the best available.
We ventured to the barn after the house. Max had his toys stored out there. He said that I would enjoy this, but it was really Rene that we wanted to impress. He had several classic cars in the process of restoration and a mud covered dune buggy as his prize.
Steph explained that he spends most of his free time driving the dune buggy around their property. "He does his best to get it stuck in the mud, then we have to work like crazy to get it free. Of course, then he does it all over again".
We went back to the house and sat on their deck, of course, being continually re-freshened with our spiked lemonade. The extra large cedar deck overlooked an above ground swimming pool. It was about 15 feet across and 4 or 5 feet deep. It glistened in the overbearing sun. An octagon screen porch was attached to the house.
I liked the feeling of seclusion. You couldn't see any other houses or people, just Max's dune buggy tracks, fields of grass and trees. I remarked how wonderful it was to be so secluded. Max said with a slight grin. "Well we paid a lot for this, but we make it up in swimsuit savings", Steph gave him a punch to the arm, "That was supposed to be our secret" she joked.
I was feeling the effects. My discomfort was dissipating. I started to have fun and keep up with the conversation and humor. Rene was a completely changed woman. I guess we all seemed to be a little different. I was no longer feeling pouty. Rene was no longer pissy, and Steph seemed friendlier than I had ever remembered.
I quickly fantasized about swimming nude with these people, but was abruptly grounded when Rene said, "Not me, I won't skinny dip". She didn't add any reason; she just folded her arms across her chest and looked pissy again. It put an official "Lull" to the conversation.
Max ended the panic and started to pick her up and said, "ok, you can swim in your clothes". She laughed and giggled and ran away from him. They ran around until Max got winded. He came back and poured new drinks for everyone.
"Hey Joe", he said to me, "Do you mind if I take Rene on a dune buggy ride?'
Before I could answer, Rene said, "Ya, it seems like fun", and ran with him towards the barn.
I looked at Steph and she returned the same quizzed looked.
"Have fun", she yelled to their backsides as they headed arm in arm to the barn, "Don't get stuck, we aren't going to come and get you".
The engine roared to life and the two helmeted people took off over the first hill.
"Well, here we are", Steph said.
"Ya", was all I say.
I didn't want the fun conversation to end, but it seemed to slow down. Steph came and sat down beside me in the shaded porch swing. She took a gulp and said quite boldly, "So, exactly how miserable are you?"
I squirmed in my chair; I didn't know what to say.
She added, "No, not here. I mean, how miserable are you in your marriage?"
"Does it show that much?"
"I can recognize it easily, because I also live it".
"I'm sorry", I said.
"No, don't, it's just the way it is. We're not happily married, but we're happy people. Does that make sense to you?"
"Ya, I guess".
"Well, I think that we were just as unhappy as you two appeared when you first got here. But we've adjusted. We have great lives live now, a bit separate, but happy all the same".
"That's cool", I said.
"So", she inquired, "do you mind if I ask what went wrong? Was it an affair?"
"No, just kind of seemed to die on it's own. You know, debt, this heat, arguing".
"I know. We had a lot of the same. I mean we're financially good, but emotionally broke".
She took a long breath, "do you feel like listening? I feel like spilling my guts".
