Fortunately, we make it out of church between rainstorms arrive at my in-laws before the next line rolls in.
Unfortunately, today we’re stuck sitting at the end of the table near her parents.They actually have several folding tables that get brought out and shoved together for these family dinners because there’s literally thirty or so people here, if you count all the kids running around.
We almost make it through lunch when the youngest Smith sibling, Carl, who’s fifteen months younger than Olivia, opens his smart mouth.“Me and Louise are having baby number two,” he tells me.“In case you hadn’t heard.”
“Oh, I heard.Congratulations.”
It’s hardnotto hear about that shit because they have family text chains I get looped into and constantly have to mute, and they kept adding me to the family Facebook group.I finally locked down my Facebook profile and deleted all my friends, just so I could keep my business page, and told everyone I had a stalker.
If only.
Part of me wishes that Liam would show up out of the blue one day, sweep me off my feet, and carry me away.
I read and reread the e-mails he sends me, although those are few and far between now.I’ve never responded, though.
I can’t.
I’m not strong enough to resist him, and I don’t want to ruin his life or, worse, put it at risk.
“You ever need some advice”—Carl punches me in the arm—“just ask.”
Olivia cringes, because she knows I’ll put up with nearly anything.
But in the cause of helping her hide her deliberately childless status from her family, I’ve naturally assumed the role of protective husband on many an occasion, putting intrusively nosy family on their heels and calling them out for being insensitive to our “plight.”It’s the only way I have to mask my rage when I’m basically accused of being impotent.
Which, of course, isn’t true, even if Olivia thinks it is.But she’s not stupid enough to tell her family that, either.Because she knows damned well her family would start shoving her toward a fertility doctor.
I stand up.“Thank you for your hospitality, Mom and Dad,” as they’ve asked me to call them, “but we really need to head home because of the weather.And this is as good a time as any to break some news of our own.”The table falls silent.
Excellent.
I’m going to love disappointing them all.“With my job, and all the stress, and all the driving, we’ve decided that we’re going to start attending the Methodist church near our house.”
I smile and rest my hand on Olivia’s shoulder, squeezing.She doesn’tdarecontradict me on something like this, because she knows her own parents won’t support her for “defying” her husband.“We’ve been praying on it a lot, and it feels like the Lord’s moving us to make this change.Everything has pointed us to that church, so we feel it’s a sign from God.”
Yes, I can shamelessly speak the lingo of this particular culture.
Unfortunately.
And I’m not finished.I need to sauce it up a little.“We’re hoping that the extra time together, and the reduced stress of this weekly drive, will…help things out.”I offer another smile and when some of the sisters start nodding, I know I’ve won this already.
I sense Olivia fuming next to me but she bites her tongue.
“When we talked to the minister again last week and prayed on it with him,” I say, “we felt that it was our duty to make this change to hopefully help fill the empty space in our lives.”
Her father nods, meaning it’s a done deal.“I respect you for taking this step, Ward.I know how tiring this journey’s been for you.”
“Thank you, Dad.I mean, it’s not like you won’t ever see us again.We’ll still come to some of the family dinners.”I smile down at Olivia and she forces herself to smile back up at me.“She was scared this might upset all y’all, so I told her I’d be the one to take charge and let everyone know.It is my duty, after all.”
And like that, that’s how I managed to piss off my wife and simplify my life, all at the same time.
Bonus.
Ten minutes later, when we’re in the car and heading home, she wastes no time blasting me.“How could you fuckingdothat, Ward?”
“Do what?Get you out of something you yourself have bitched about?Congratulations.I let you wear shorts and tank tops, have a job outside the home, and I just got us out of getting up damned early followed by a minimum of forty-five minutes of driving one-way every flipping Sunday.You’re welcome.You don’t want to go to church with me?That’s fine.I am going to start attending the Methodist church.It’s five minutes away.Just make sure you stay off Facebook and Twitter when we’re supposed to be in church together, or your sisters will be crawling up your ass about it.”
She fumes most of the drive back home, angry-scrolling on her phone, when she finally speaks again.“What if I tell them I’ve changed my mind?”She tips her chin in defiance.“I can tell them I don’t like one of his sermons.”
