Husband for a Weekend

“I thought Melissa was in here with you,” said a male voice from behind her.

Abby spun around and glared at Josh Wright, the source of Melissa’s problems—and subsequently Abby’s—as he peeked into the kitchen. He could be the solution, too, if only he’d act instead of sitting on his hands.

“She’s getting the anniversary gift from my office,” Abby said through gritted teeth, digging deep for the composure she’d inherited from her father.

Josh came all the way into the room. He looked as strained as Melissa. “Need some help?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets instead of going in search of Melissa.

“Coward.” Abby began dishing up six portions of tiramisu.

“Guilty,” Josh said, coming up beside her. “Give me a job. I can’t sit still.”

“You can pour the decaf into that carafe next to the coffeemaker.”

Full of nervous energy, his hands shaking as much as Melissa’s had earlier, he got right to the task, fumbling at every step, slopping coffee onto the counter.

“Relax, would you, Josh?” Abby said, exasperated. “You’re making everyone jumpy, but especially Melissa. My sister is her mother’s daughter, you know. They both have a flair for the dramatic, but this time Melissa is honestly thrown by your behavior. She’s on the edge, and it’s not of her own making.”

“But it’ll all come out okay in the end?”

The way he turned the sentence into a question had Abby staring at him. He and her kid sister were a study in contrasts, Melissa with her black hair and green eyes, Josh all blond and blue-eyed. They’d been dating for a year, were head over heels in love with each other, seeming to validate the theory that opposites attract. It was rare that they weren’t touching or staring into each other’s eyes, communicating silently.

Tonight was different, however, and Abby knew why. She just didn’t know if they would all survive the suspense.

“Whether or not it all turns out okay in the end depends on how long you take to pop the question,” Abby said, dropping her voice to a whisper.

“You know I’m planning the perfect proposal,” he whispered back. “Your husband gave me advice, but if you’d like to add yours, I’m listening.”

She couldn’t tell him that Melissa thought he was about to break up with her—that was hers to say. But Abby could offer some perspective.

“Here’s my advice, Josh, and it has nothing to do with how to set a romantic scene that she’ll remember the rest of her life. My advice is simple—do it sooner rather than later.” She spoke in a normal tone again, figuring even if someone came into the room, they wouldn’t suspect what she and Josh were talking about. “When Greg and I were in college, I misunderstood something he said. Instead of asking him to clarify it, I stewed. And stewed some more. I blew it all out of proportion.”

She dug deep into memories she’d long ago put aside. “Here’s what happens to a couple at times like that. He asks what’s wrong, and she says it’s nothing. He asks again. She insists it’s nothing. A gulf widens that can’t be crossed because there’s no longer a bridge between them, one you used to travel easily. It doesn’t even matter how much love you share. Once trust is gone, once the ability to talk to each other openly and freely goes away, the relationship begins to unravel. Sometimes it takes weeks, sometimes months, even years, but it happens and there’s no fixing it.”

“But you fixed it.”

They almost hadn’t, Abby remembered. They came so close to breaking up. “At times like that, it can go either way. Even strong partners struggle sometimes in a marriage.”

“How do you get through those times?”

“You put on a smile for everyone, then you try to work it out alone together so that no one else gets involved.”

“Don’t you talk to your mom? She’s had a long, successful marriage. She’d give good advice, wouldn’t she?”

Abby smiled as she pictured her sweet, sometimes overwrought mother. “Mom’s the last one I’d ask for advice,” she said.

* * *

“I’m going to see what’s taking so long,” Diana said to her husband, laying her napkin on the table.

“Diana.” Implied in his tone of voice were the words he didn’t speak aloud—Don’t borrow trouble.

“I’m sure they’ll be right out,” Greg said, standing, suddenly looking frantic. Her cool, calm son-in-law never panicked.

It upped her determination to see what was wrong. Because something definitely was.

“I’m going.” Diana headed toward the kitchen. She could hear Abby speaking quietly.

“I adore my mother, but she makes mountains out of molehills. Greg and I are a team. We keep our problems to ourselves. And you know she would take my side, as any parent would, and that isn’t fair to Greg. She might hold on to her partiality long after I’ve forgotten the argument. So you see, Josh, sometimes the best way to handle personal problems is to keep other people in the dark. Got it?”