Page 47 of The Marriage Game

The music cuts off and Dorothy cocks her head in thought. “Quite the high bar all of them are setting, don’t you think? Or perhaps,” she says, “it’s not a bar that can be reached at all, but rather an illusion that only serves to make us question things when our own marriages can’t maintain that level of bliss and passion. When we don’t feel as if we’re living out our ownhappily ever afters.” Her voice softens, and I realize with a start that I’m leaning in, her words having grabbed hold of a deep seated insecurity of mine. “When our husbands no longer adore every little thing about us or our wives don’t even say hello when we get home from a day apart, let alone greet us with a kiss.” Dorothy offers us a sad sort of smile. “That’s the point at which we start to wonder if we made the right choice when we married our partner or if perhaps we got love all wrong.” A sick feeling settles over me. Ihavethought those things. The anticipation of her telling me how I just need to try harder or have more sex with my husband or whatever chaffs at my very soul. I’m preemptively indignant on behalf of my inner self.

“News flash,” Dorothy cries with a snap of her fingers, “you absolutelydidget love all wrong.”

Wait, what? I rear back, stunned. I did get love all wrong? She’s agreeing with me?

That doesn’t seem very marriage counselory of her.

I’m not the only one taken aback. There’s a soft murmur of displeasure traveling around the room.

“Oh everybody hush now,” Dorothy drawls. “Don’t turn on me just yet. Let me explain. The second you start to think that you can’t make your marriage work because you don’t love your spouse anymore is the second I look you square in the eye and say: are you sure you’re not confusing love with romance? If you’ve lost the romance in your marriage, I can help you find ways to add some of that back in. But first we need to talk about how to adjust your mindset to reflect this truth.” She points to the screen behind her, then reads the words that appear on it, “Healthy marriages don’t rely wholly on passion and romance to sustain them. Healthy marriages are rooted in Christ and the truth that marriage isn’t just about the feelings. Sometimes it’s about the work and commitment that goes into any long-lasting relationship. If you’ve lost the romance in your marriage,perhaps you ought to look at what you’re doing to show your spouse that you’re committed to them. Strong marriages last because the people in them have a commitment to each other that goes beyond their emotional responses to each other. I’ll say that again so it can really sink in: Strong marriages last because the people in them have a commitment to each other that goes beyond their emotional responses to each other.”

She pauses. My skin prickles. She’s rankled me, and I don’t like it. Max and I used to have passion and bliss. Why is it so wrong to want to have that again? To chase that?

“Now please don’t hear any of this as me saying there shouldn’t be romance and passion in a marriage,” Dorothy goes on as if she can hear my very thoughts. “But if that’s what you’re chasing after the most, I’m guessing your spouse will always fall short. So stop chasing romance and chase each other instead. Better yet—chase God together.”

It’s starting to feel as if God is using Dorothy to speak to me. And if that’s the case that means she’s right and I’m wrong.

And I hate being wrong.

I turn my attention to the notebook in my hand. I really don’t want to listen to her anymore.

Dear—I write, then pause as I try to select the perfect pet name for Max. Truth be told we're not the biggest pet name users. I mostly call him Max. He mostly calls me Jill. Occasionally we might say babe or honey, but not often.

Maybe it’s time to change that, though. After all, I need to show Dorothy that we are super in love and full of all the passion and bliss. Yes,allof it.

So then. Back to pet names.Maxie? No, that makes him sound like a child. Or a skirt.Sexy? No, then he’ll start thinking about sex.Honey bear?What am I writing—a Winnie the Pooh story?Darling? Oh yes, and then he can call me Wendy and we’ll fly off to Neverland. Not.

Goodness. This is impossible.

Anyway, Dorothy isn’t even going to see the note, so it’s not as if the term of endearment really matters. What matters is her seeing me pass the note to begin with. Luckily I was too much of a goodie two-shoes in school to ever pass notes, so I have no experience being discreet.

Having decided as much, I choose to simply writeDear Max.

Then I get stuck again. Given the number of press releases I’ve written you’d think I’d be able to write a basic love note, but my brain has turned into a one-trick parrot, repeating the only words it appears to know:a commitment to each other that goes beyond their emotional responses to one another.

I wish my brainwasa parrot because then I could shove a cracker in its mouth to get it to shut up.

I need a distraction and this love note is not going to cut it. I don’t want to listen to anything else that Dorothy has to say, but short of fleeing the room for everyone to see, I’m stuck here, waiting.

Waiting.

Inspiration strikes.

When Elle and Liam were little I used to play games on paper all of the time with them when we got stuck in waiting rooms at the doctor’s office or the dentist. That’s what Max and I will do now. Play a game. It’s even better than writing each other love notes.

Well, not better.

But it’s something.

Quickly I draw a 3x3 grid, draw an X right in the middle, then slide the notebook Max’s way, offering him the pen. He raises an eyebrow at me—playing a game when I’m supposed to be listening to someone talking is very unlike me—but then accepts the pen and draws an O in the top right corner.

Another wave of gratitude like the one from earlier swells through me. Again, it’s a simple thing, but the fact that Max started playing my childish game with me without much hesitation makes me happy. I mean, he could’ve said no.

But he said yes.

We go back and forth until the game ends in a draw—as most games of tic-tac-toe between two adults are prone to doing.

Max left off with the pen and deftly draws another grid. He offers me the pen then mouths, “Ladies first.”

---