Side Trip(35)

She’d thought her last-minute plan to hide in Judy’s back seat was brilliant, but she’d only made a mess of things.

Joy dipped her chin, swirled her ankles in the water. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“I’m glad you did.” He bumped shoulders with her. “Want to hang out this summer?”

She shyly nodded. “If I’m not grounded.”

“Fingers crossed.”

Kevin’s foot brushed against hers under the water. An electric current swirled up Joy’s calf, but she didn’t shy away. She hooked her foot behind his heel and they gently swung their feet, forward and back, leisurely like a southern Sunday afternoon. An easy, closed-lip smile curved Kevin’s mouth. She smiled back; then he started to play, a slow rendition of Eric Clapton’s “Let It Rain.”

Joy listened, amazed at how good he was. He’d just finished the song when her name reached her, a shout of impatience.

“Joy!”

Judy.

She and Kevin twisted around. Judy stood on the shore, one hand on a hip, another blocking the glare of the single lamp on the dock.

“Joy, you out there?”

“Here,” she answered, waving. “She’s going to blow a fuse,” Joy told Kevin, rising. “Better see what she wants.”

“We’re leaving, now!”

Well, that answered that question.





CHAPTER 13





AFTER


Joy

Joy throws open the front door to the cabin she and Mark rented at the Hill Brook Lodge in the Catskills, sweaty and gasping from an uphill sprint. Her foot barely touches the threshold before hands grasp her waist from behind. Fingers dig into her obliques and she shrieks as she’s swooped to the side and deposited on the deck just outside the door. She spins back around. Mark stands on the other side of the threshold, just inside the room, hunched over, hands on thighs, chest heaving. Sweat drips off his hair. A self-righteous grin-grimace stretches across his face.

“You cheated!” Joy accuses.

“I improvised.” He grasps the top of the doorframe and stretches his arms. Crescents of sweat stain his shirt under his arms, and a long streak discolors the front. A ripe, I-hit-my-PR-pace odor hits her.

Joy invited Mark on a long, late-afternoon run on the trails behind the exclusive mountain lodge where they have been staying. Toward the end of the route, with the lodge looming ahead, uphill, Mark challenged her. Last one back to the room owed the other a back rub.

“You’re on!” Joy sprinted ahead. She has an eighty-minute deep tissue massage scheduled late morning tomorrow, but spending the evening with her husband’s hands on her, kneading tired muscles, is bonus material. So would be the bragging rights from winning.

She led the entire race. The sound of Mark’s rubber soles hitting packed dirt and his heavy, even exhales kept her moving. She’s always run for exercise, but two years ago, when they returned to New York after their honeymoon to Antigua and all too easily fell into the daily grind, she’d kicked her workouts up a notch and started training with a goal: 10Ks, halfs, marathons. Running keeps her focused when she’s not in the lab, free from dwelling on should haves and could haves. Memories best left forgotten. It calms that restless energy clawing at her. She can’t ever sit around. She needs to be doing something, going somewhere. Be somewhere else. Always unsettled.

It must be because of Judy’s lists. Joy feels as though she’s in a constant battle with herself: where she lives, the promotions she pursues, and who she truly is. But she’d committed to complete each of Judy’s lists and intended to see them through.

Joy plants her palm on Mark’s sweaty chest, gives him a nudge. He doesn’t budge.

“Kiss for passage.” He closes his eyes and makes kissy noises.

“A massage and a kiss?” She pants, trying to catch her breath.

“I know. I drive a hard bargain.” He doesn’t give her a chance to decide. He clasps a hand behind her head and lowers his mouth to hers. Their lips connect and she gives herself over to him, his hunger.

She can feel the humidity radiate off his body. She can smell the mountain air in his hair, the damp leaves and dirt clinging to his running shoes, and the pungent odor of his workout sweat, so different from nervous sweat, or the musky scent of him after sex. She can taste the mouthwash he gargled with before their run. Cool mint.

Everything is so Mark.

Familiar. The same. Comfortable.

Mark groans. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against her lips.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Long hours at work and social obligations have kept them busy, and at times together but apart. She and Mark have been the epitome of two ships passing in the night or sailing side by side at a distance. They’ll attend a niece’s birthday party and end up in different rooms, Joy talking with her sisters-in-law and Mark drinking with his brothers-in-law. A friend will host a baby shower that pulls her away for an entire Saturday. A business trip will send Mark out of town for a week. And when they’re finally home together, Netflix is their go-to rare date-night-in because they’re too exhausted to go out.

This weekend away? It couldn’t have come at a more perfect time. It’s exactly what their marriage needs. A reboot. It’s also the perfect weekend to tell Mark her news.