Page 35 of Elevating Eve

“Lay it on me.”

“Communication and honesty.”

Jonathan waited for him to say more, but the silence stretched on for several seconds. “That’s it?”

“Son, if you have those two things down pat, the rest is easy.” When he continued, he’d adopted a warning tone. “But you can’t go partway on these. You have to be all in. I know that’s never come easily to you.”

Jonathan frowned at that. “I’m an excellent communicator.” He’d run two successful businesses, for fuck’s sake. How could he have accomplished that if he had poor communication skills?

“You’re excellent at communicating exactly what you want other people to know.” Orson said it kindly, but it was clear he wouldn’t accept any arguments about this. “You need to learn how to communicate the rest of it—the parts you keep all to yourself.”

It took three tries for Jonathan to swallow down the lump in his throat. “Got it.”

“The honesty part is probably pretty self-explanatory,” Orson said, and Jonathan was grateful for the subject change. “Without trust, love is impossible to sustain. Figure out some way to make sure you can completely trust each other. Knowing you can believe what your partner says no matter what makes all the difference in the world, believe me.”

“What do you mean, figure out a way? Figureit out how?”

Orson clicked his tongue a few times—something he often did when thinking hard. “When we first got together, your mom and I had a word we’d say when one of us thought the other one was lying. It basically meant, this is really important, so tell me the truth no matter what. We both swore we’d never lie if the other person said that word, and neither of us ever did.” He made a disappointed sound. “I can’t remember what the word was. It’s been over forty years since we’ve had to use it. Maybe she’ll remember.”

So there it was. The key to a forty-three-year marriage—communication and honesty.

It felt so simple.Toosimple. Like those two things couldn’t possibly solve every problem that came their way.

But it would sure be a great place to start.

“Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure. Now I’d better get back in there before your mother starts dancing on the bar. Love you.”

Jonathan smiled at the image of his sixty-eight-year-old mother dancing on a bar. It wasn’t at all difficult to imagine. “Love you, too.”

CHAPTER 12

Eve

Huddling deep within her orange Denver sweatshirt, Eve tucked her legs up under her on the oversize deck chair. It took a few tries to get everything situated just right, but she finally made the perfect blanket burrito around her legs, her exposed skin protected from the cool night air.

“No wonder you love it here so much,” she said, leaning back against the plush cushion and closing her eyes. The chirps of crickets and other night insects mingled with the croaks of frogs. An owl call drifted in from somewhere out in the darkness—three short hoots followed by a longer one. Far off to their left, a second owl answered in the same pattern.

She was no stranger to the sounds of nature. Not in northern Vermont. But she could easily imagine how peaceful and beautiful a young Jonathan would’ve found this place when he spent most of his time in the chaotic bustle of southern California.

Jonathan stood on the edge of the large deck, leaning against the railing. For the first time since she’d met him, he had on a T-shirt instead of a button-down and tie. His dark gray sweats were doing wonderful things for his ass, especially with him bent over like that.

Keep it in your pants, Eve,she scolded, not wanting to ruin this beautiful moment.

“My dad and I used to sit out here after everyone else went to bed,” he said, his voice taking on that misty, faraway quality again. “Just the two of us. We’ve both always been night owls. I’m sure everyone knew we were out here, but it always felt like our secret. Like our own special club or something.” His sigh held so many emotions, from gratitude to longing to regret. “We haven’t done anything like that for years.”

Eve was glad he faced away from her and couldn’t see her brush tears from her eyes. She remembered nights like that with her dad when she was growing up. Unlike Jonathan, she never had to wait for the rest of the family to go to bed. It had been just the two of them as long as she could remember.

Staying up way too late, raiding the pantry and the freezer at two AM, talking about anything and everything. She couldn’t even remember what they’d talked about anymore—most of it was nonsense anyway.

But she’d never forget how those nights made her feel.

Like she mattered. Like she wasn’t and never would be alone.

In those moments, she knew, without a doubt, that she was the most important person in his world. Just as he was the most important person in hers.

Sixteen years had gone by since she lost him. In all that time, the depth of her longing for one more night with him hadn’t diminished one bit.

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