Under the Table(19)
She stared at the white swirls in the black granite countertop until he slowly pushed her wineglass into her line of vision.
“It’s going to be all right, Zoey,” he said quietly. “I apologize for my initial overreaction. Thank you for being honest with me.”
She looked back up into his eyes. All the kindness was back in them, and she was relieved. He had no interest in berating or casting judgment on her. “I’m never quite sure how to work it into conversation. ‘Hi, my name is Zoey and I’m counting down the days till I can get a divorce’ seems like overkill.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Tristan repeated the same question she had posed to him the night before. It was an open-ended invitation, not an interrogation.
She felt the lump in her throat starting to form. “There are so many ways my marriage went wrong, I don’t know where to start.”
He had gone back to puttering about the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans, going to the fridge to remove chicken, mushrooms, and eggs. He balanced all the items in his hands and plopped them down on the counter. Then he held up a stick of butter. He said very matter-of-factly, “I hope you’re not one of those zealots who hates butter. Olive oil has its place too, but I prefer to use butter when I can.”
“Do I look like I hate butter? Sometimes I use both. Everything’s better with butter and batter.”
Tristan picked up his wineglass and leaned against the counter. He extended it in a toast. “To new beginnings. All kinds.”
Zoey picked up her glass as well, and from across the center island, they tapped them lightly together with a ping. “I think Derek was cheating on me. Plus he didn’t fulfill one promise he made me before we married.”
He quirked an eyebrow and chuckled. “I’m used to saying ‘cheers,’ but I guess that works too.” Then he took a more serious tone. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I don’t think a lot of people realize going in just how hard being married is.”
“My parents made it look easy,” she replied.
“My grandparents did too. They only talked about how hard it was.”
Tristan was starting to assemble all the things he would need to make what Zoey guessed was Chicken Marsala. She felt so comfortable with him. The more they got to know each other, the more they seemed to have in common. He set up his work area the same way she did. And for the first time she was content to sit back and watch, instead of trying to jump in and actively participate. She wasn’t sure how long being a spectator would last. He was still wearing the same clothes as when she picked him up that morning, despite now having a king’s ransom’s worth of new duds. She got the distinct impression that material things didn’t really matter to him; people did. It likely made his self-imposed solitude all the more frustrating, even if he didn’t show it. He was a fascinating specimen.
“Derek kept saying he wants to start a family.” Zoey said the words for the first time out loud. Ruth was the only one who knew about Derek’s pressure of trying to get her to conceive.
Tristan turned around from the counter. “And you don’t?”
She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “Even when I believed our marriage was on solid ground, every time someone asked me when I’m going to have a baby, I wanted to scream. Does that make me a horrible person?”
“Certainly not. It’s your body, you call the shots.”
In one sentence, the man who knew her just over twenty-four hours was able to break it down to its most basic principle. He got it.
“I have nothing against kids, but I had four younger siblings,” she continued to explain, because she wanted to, not because she felt she had to justify. “Not that my parents were lying down on the job, but Ruth and I were expected to help out. Ruth was . . . is . . . the fun one. I’m the conscientious one, the worrier, the perfectionist. Ruth fought for her right to party, which gave me one more person to worry about and have to take care of. I put in my time changing diapers and warming bottles and chasing after toddlers.”
He was studying her, listening to her, periodically nodding in agreement but saying nothing.
“And I know that no matter what he says, deep down inside he only wants to start a family to keep me under his thumb. So he can be free to go and do what he likes while I’m stuck at home being responsible for the life we created. He never talked about wanting children while we were dating.”
Tristan finally spoke. “He wants to take advantage of all your best qualities. That’s not right.”
“To be fair, I’m not much better than he is. We’d been together on and off since eighth grade. He played sports, was popular, didn’t go to college because he thought he already knew everything there was to know. I bought into all of that. Derek had a real take-on-the-world attitude. But it was all puffing. He’s lazy and always looking for the easiest way to do things instead of the right way. I never in my wildest dreams thought I was settling for someone who peaked in high school. I wanted to move away and try new things, but he was content to stay right where he was. By the time I figured it out, it was too late.”
“That’s what I like about you, Zoey. You’re not only a thinker, you’re also willing to take some responsibility for your situation. And take it from one who knows, it’s never too late to make a change.”