Page 38 of The Light Year

Jo looks surprised; she’s clearly expected something else. “But, Bill—“ she protests.

Bill cuts her off. “A cruise,” he says quickly. “We’ll get on a boat together and float on the water. No work, no kids, no typewriter,” he says with a lopsided grin, tapping her on the knee.

“But, Bill,” Jo says again. “I have a deadline I need to meet.”

“How far away are you from hitting it?”

Jo thinks about this. “I can finish my first draft by mid-January. I promised it by January thirty-first, at the latest.”

A rush of pleasure fills Bill’s body. This is it. This will work. A trip away to clear their heads, and to keep Jeanie out of his line of sight. A chance to reconnect and forget about everything.

“Great. Then I’ll find a trip for us and book it while you finish that draft. What do you say?” He looks at her hopefully, his heart leaping from his chest as he waits for her to praise him for coming up with such a wonderful idea.

But Jo looks dubious. “I’m not sure, Bill… what about the kids? Who will watch them and get them up and out the door for school?”

“Your mom,” Bill says simply. “We’ll buy her a plane ticket to come and stay with them for a week.”

Jo nearly sputters with laughter. “But, Bill. She has a life, too, you know. You can’t just expect someone to drop everything and come running. We haven’t even asked her yet.”

Dr. Sheinbaum interrupts here. “So,” she says, holding a pencil in one hand. Her elbows are on the desk and she’s been jotting notes as they speak. “I hear Bill saying that he thinks getting away without distraction would be a great way to rebuild some connections that may be lacking at the moment, and I hear Jo saying that this is more challenging than just speaking it into reality. So let’s bridge those two things. Jo, do you want to go on a cruise with Bill?”

Jo takes a deep breath, and by the look on her face, it’s clear that she’s considering piña coladas and sunsets over the waterinstead of dinners and homework with the kids, and that the idea is taking root with her.

“Well,” Jo says, sounding just mildly reluctant at this point. “Of course. Yes. I would love to take a vacation. It just feels decadent.”

“Why?” Dr. Sheinbaum drops her pencil. “Doing something for yourself and your marriage isn’t decadent, it’s necessary. Please tell us more about that thought.”

“Asking someone else to take over my responsibilities at home so that I can leave a vacation paradise,” she says, gesturing broadly around her to indicate the fact that they live in a state full of sunshine, beaches, and palm trees, “togoon vacation… I don’t know. It just feels unnecessary.”

Bill’s excitement wanes, and he moves around on the leather couch, trying not to look like he’s feeling petulant about Jo’s hesitation.

“I think it would be good for us,” Bill protests. “And I think it’s important.”

Jo nods. She looks at her hands in her lap. It’s December twenty-third, and Bill knows that she still has a lot of things she needs to do before the kids go to bed tomorrow and wake up on Christmas morning to a tree with presents beneath it. For a moment, he feels a deep, intense regret for anything he’s ever done to wrong her. Jo is such a good, strong woman, and the things she does fill him with pride. That the thingshedoes could destroy her is almost more than Bill’s heart can bear.

“Please, Jojo,” he says softly, taking her hand again. Reluctantly, she unfurls her fingers and lets them curl around his. “I really want to be alone with you.”

Jo turns her head a quarter of the way in his direction and lets her eyes meet his for just a flicker of a moment. She nods, and he knows her well enough to see that she’s holding back tears.

“Okay,” Jo whispers. “Yes. Let’s go away. I’ll call my mother, and I’ll put in all the time I need to in order to get a draft of the book done, and we’ll go away. On a cruise. We’ll do it.”

The Christmas lights that the owners of the building have wound around the trunks of the palm trees outside the window catch Bill’s eye and he focuses on them as he nods.

Dr. Sheinbaum picks her pencil up off the desk and jots something on her notepad.

Jo swipes furtively at a tear that’s rolling down her cheek.

Bill squeezes her hand in his. This has to work. They have to get away, they have to become a team again, and he has to do right by her.

There are no other options.

barbie

. . .

Jasper Wilkins callsBarbie right after the holidays, catching her breathless as she carefully packs up the glass ornaments from her tree.

“Mrs. Roman?” the attorney asks.

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