The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(90)
Sighing, she tucked the photograph in the box alongside the dozen others that chronicled her six-year marriage, folded the flaps down, taped them closed, and labeled the box, “Memories.” She stood and carried it out to her car. With each step, it felt heavier in her arms, like it didn’t want this to be the end of her life with Tucker. Squaring her shoulders, she lengthened her stride and tucked the box safely in her trunk before returning to the house. There was little left to do now but shampoo the carpets and vacuum one last time.
The house, a rental sitting atop the bluff and overlooking the Indianola dock, Bainbridge Island, Agate Pass, and Seattle, was small but cozy and had been her home since Tucker had proposed seven years ago. It had been his for longer, but they had decided they’d both give it up because there were just too many memories here. All the furniture had been moved out, and all the pictures had been taken down and boxed up, and even though the house looked like an empty shell, it still felt like home.
The walls were a pale blue-gray adorned with pristine white trim and accented by the dark-stained, rough-hewn ceiling beams. The color scheme should have made the place feel cold and uninviting but the beige carpets and golden oak floors added plenty of warmth, as had the laughter that had once danced through the rooms. Her cheeks warmed as she recalled other, hotter encounters with her husband that had been sparked by something as simple as a wink.
Folding her arms tightly across her chest, she wandered from the entryway through the living room and peeked into the office beyond. After visiting the dining room, she stepped into the kitchen and smiled sadly, recalling how they’d flirted and talked about their day while they cooked together. Finally, she went upstairs to their empty bedroom, the guest room, and the room that might have been their child’s if they hadn’t grown apart.
With nothing left to do until Tucker returned with the shampooer, she sat on the bottom step with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms folded around them, staring out the picture window. The weather system that had brought a week of nonstop rain had finally poured itself out. Tattered clouds, tinted with subtle gold by the early afternoon sun, scuttled eastward out of the Puget Sound area. The tide flowed out, leaving pools of reflected sky all across the broad sand spit below the decommissioned ferry dock. She missed her evening walks on the beach with Tucker. Rain or shine, they had taken a stroll after dinner along the rocky shore or the sandy spit if the tide was low or out to the end of the dock if it was high. But it had been a long time since they had maintained that ritual with any regularity.
Abruptly, the front door opened, startling Alicia out of her reveries. She hadn’t heard him pull up.
“Hi, babe,” he greeted as he set the shampooer beside the door. Though he smiled and kissed her cheek, his voice was sad.
“We agreed, remember? No more caresses and no more pet names,” she replied, wishing she could say how much it hurt that she might never hear him call her that again. “It’ll only make this harder than it is.”
“I guess it’s going to take some getting used to.” He glanced around the empty house. “Old habits die hard.”
Together, they walked through the house to make sure they’d left the place as spotless and empty as it had been before Tucker moved in.
“This is wrong,” he said.
Frowning, Alicia turned to him. “What’s wrong?”
He gestured around the vacant living room. “Everything about this.”
“I know it’s not easy,” she said, “but it’s over. Somewhere between you travelling so much for your job and me working so many hours at home for mine, we just… fell out of love.”
He shook his head. “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”
“Tucker, we’ve tried. We’ve searched and we’ve fought, but whatever used to be there to fight for is gone.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to argue the point, but instead, he nodded and murmured, “I guess you’re right.”
Disappointment seeped through her, chilled by the finality of his surrender. He turned away and headed back out to his car to grab the box fans, and she shrugged off the regret as she prepared the shampooer. They’d begun the process of filing for divorce, found new places to live, and almost completely moved out of the house they’d shared. What was the point now of holding on to something that was gone?
By the time they’d shampooed the carpets, the sun was setting, and the world outside was awash in crystalline pastels of lavender, peach, and rose. The undulating waves sparkled with the dying light of the sun, and Alicia nearly broke down in tears at the beauty of it.
“Take a walk with me,” Tucker said, joining her on the front steps. “One last stroll for old time’s sake.”
“Sure,” she replied.
The dock was three long blocks from their house, and they walked the distance in silence, not holding hands like they once did. Not touching at all. They paused at the top of the stairs, hesitant and unsure. Should they descend to the beach or race to the end of the dock? How many times had they sprinted down its length, feet pounding on the boards, and found themselves breathlessly caught up in each other’s arms at the end?
Alicia moved toward the stairs but Tucker took a step toward the dock, and they collided, no longer in sync. She turned to him, gazing at a face that had been more familiar than her own reflection for so long, and saw things she hadn’t taken the time to notice. The smile lines around his eyes were deeper than she remembered and there was a regret in his gaze she hadn’t ever seen before. Where was her Tucker who was always laughing, always smiling? When had he become so serious?