Page 53 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

“You used to, but it’s been a hell of a long time since you’ve said it,” I countered. “Instead, you bought me some anti-aging, face-firming moisturizer for mature skin and left it next to my sink. It was a less-than-subtle hint, Ryan. So were the new scales that appeared in the bathroom. I especially appreciated the feature that calculates your weight to the ounce and flashes your current weight in bright red lights if you’ve gained since the last weigh-in. That was a nice touch.”

“Wait, just a minute,” he interjected, shooting straight up in his seat. “I bought that moisturizer stuff because that skincare influencer Mitch was dating for a few weeks last summer told him it was the best stuff on the market, so I figured you’d like it, too. And I got the scale for myself,” he defended.

“And you spent ten minutes showing me how it worked and telling me how much it would help me prevent middle-aged spread. Does that ring any bells? ‘You have to be careful, Mel, especially having a sedentary desk job like you do.’ My job is more active than yours, by the way, but you’ve probably forgotten that fact since you haven’t asked my about my work in months, including the presentation we’ve been working our asses off for. We got the contract, by the way.”

He slumped back onto his end of the couch and scrubbed his hand over his face as he exhaled noisily.

“And what about these little gems, Ryan? Do you remember these, because I sure as hell do. ‘You’ve got a few extra gray hairs coming in, Mel. Mitch’s new girlfriend is a hair stylist, maybe she can hook you up.’ How about this one? ‘Are you wearing that dress again? You should ask Mitch’s date where she bought hers. You could go shopping together.’ Mitch’s date was twenty-two years old, Ryan. She still shopped in the Juniors section!”

He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest in defeat, so it was obvious he remembered those incidents.

“What about when I accidentally washed my new jeans on the hot cycle and they shrank two sizes? You walked in while I was struggling to zip them and had the balls to tell me that I should start going to the gym! ‘They’ve got some great personal trainers, Mel, you just have to put in the work.’ I cried while I was throwing those damned jeans in the trash and spent the next three days starving myself until Jen reminded me that my weight wasn’t the fucking problem, you and the hot water cycle were.”

Ryan looked shell-shocked. “I didn’t know you shrank your jeans in the wash,” he protested. “I walked into the bedroom, and you looked upset that the jeans didn’t fit, so I assumed you’d gained a few pounds – not that I could tell it, you looked great, just like you always do,” he rushed to clarify. “So, yes, I suggested the gym…and yes, I realize now that I could have said it more tactfully, but I really was trying to help with what I assumed the issue was.”

I sat there seething as Kim cleared her throat and asked, “Ryan, can you share your thought processes when you commented on Melanie’s hair, or her clothes, or any of the other criticisms she mentioned?”

Chapter 18

Ryan

I opened my mouth to answer Kim, then snapped it shut as I realized I didn’t have a fucking clue what to say.

Melanie gave an irritated huff and shook her head, and aggravation was stamped on every inch of her beautiful face.

“I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I have a vague recollection of those things happening, but I didn’t mean any of it how it sounded. I was trying to be helpful and supportive, but it came out wrong, clearly.”

“That’s because I suspect most of it came out of Mitch’s mouth first.”

I whipped my head around to stare at Melanie warily. “What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s not exactly subtle when he criticizes me, which he does all the damned time. He’s usually smart enough to do it when you aren’t around to hear him, but believe me, he makes snide little comments every chance he gets. Then within a day or two, imagine that…you spout off a slightly more polite version of his bullshit.”

“Garrett said something similar to me yesterday. He said he told Mitch off for making a smartass comment about you at the cookout last summer. He also said they can tell when I’ve been hanging around Mitch too much, because I start to treat you like he does,” I revealed reluctantly.

When she just shrugged and didn’t deny it, I asked, “Do you truly believe that?

Melanie sighed, then said “I got home from going to the farmer’s market with Jen one Saturday, and you two were getting ready to leave to play golf. I was wearing a loose, flowy sundress – the yellow one – and when you ran back upstairs to grab your wallet, he told me that my figure wasn’t bad enough that I had to try to hide it by dressing like a frumpy old lady. Then the next evening you told me to go shopping with his barely legal girlfriend so I could dress more like her.”

My eyebrows flew up to meet my hairline, and my mouth fell open in shock as I thought back to that day. Mitch and his girlfriend had stopped by early one Sunday evening on their way to dinner and had invited us to go with them. I could tell Mel wasn’t thrilled about going, but she didn’t object outright. She just grumbled about finding something to wear and went upstairs to change. Mitch had joked that if it was that hard to find something, maybe it was time Mel went shopping for some new clothes and suggested that his girlfriend could go with her.

“She loves to shop, and she’s got an eye for what looks good. I’m sure Mel would appreciate the help.”

“That son of a bitch,” I ground out. “He totally played me.”

Kim asked what I meant, so I recounted what had happened. “Your figure is fantastic and I loved that yellow sundress on you, by the way. Is that why you stopped wearing it?”

She nodded and I shook my head, as disgusted with Mitch and I was with myself for not seeing the pattern until now.

“That moisturizer I bought you? He suggested it. It was over two hundred dollars for that tiny little jar, so I told him he was crazy. He insisted that it was top of the line stuff, and that you deserved to pamper yourself a little, so I bought it.”

I didn’t tell them that Mitch’s exact words had been, “Women love to pamper themselves with this kind of shit. If you surprise her with this, she’ll be so happy she’ll drop to her knees and blow you right then and there. It’s practically guaranteed to get you laid, man.” Not that I bought it for that reason – I’m not quite that much of a pig. I did figure that a little pampering would earn me some brownie points though, which I had needed because Mel had still been angry that I’d traded my truck in on the ‘Vette a few weeks earlier.

“He said the hairstylist he was going out with was having trouble growing her clientele when she changed salons. He asked me to refer her to you for a dye job,” I hesitated before admitting the rest of it, “unless you were letting your hair go gray on purpose.”

“Oof,” Kim muttered under her breath. Mel was so livid she apparently lost the power of coherent speech.

“He…You…What…Ughhhh!” Melanie threw her arms up in disgust as she sputtered, and I reached for one of her flailing hands. She yanked it from my grasp and gave me a look that warned me I’d better not try that again.