Page 59 of The Marriage Game

“I can see that,” Rhett says without censure. He’s chewing on a piece of straw, and I wonder idly where he got it. Did he bring it with him? Find in on a piece of his clothing and decide it was fit for chewing on? Why even chew on straw in the first place? I may have a cowboy hat on, but clearly a cowboy I am not. “Don’t you two worry, now, ya hear. Dorothy told me summin’ like this might happen. Said you two were trying to act like you were all lovey dovey, but that you weren’t fooling anyone.” His gaze lands on Jill and he shakes his head. “Personally, I can’t imagine awoman feeling like she’s not enough for her husband. Women are usually too much for us men, you know? My June, she never stops talking some nights. Meanwhile I’m just trying to watch the game, ya know?”

Jill’s cheeks are red, but she nods. “Sure.”

I take her free hand. I’m sure she’s just as unhappy as I am that this random guy heard our conversation, and probably equally, if not more, irritated by the news that we haven’t fooled Dorothy one bit. But I want her to know that no matter what happens going forward, this conversation was the first step in the right direction. No matter what, getting this stuff out in the open was a good thing. Now we know she’s a woman who works hard to be independent because she struggles to feel adequate, and I’m a man who wants her to need me.

These may seem like hangups that directly conflict with one another, but at least now we know what we’re dealing with. Surely there’s a way I can make her feel like enough while she simultaneously makes me feel like she needs me…right?

Chapter 22

Jill

Weridebacktothe stable with Rhett, both of us silent as he carries on a steady stream of conversation about what it’s like to work on a dude ranch. As he talks, I replay the conversation Max and I just shared.

I’m torn between feeling as if I’ve unloaded a tremendous burden and feeling as if I’m standing unprotected in the middle of a football field, about to be charged by the other team. Vulnerable. I think that’s my primary emotion.

But also irked, because apparently our attempts at fooling Dorothy haven’t worked, and I hate failure.

It’s astonishing that I can have so much going on in my mind and still catch snippets of what Rhett is saying. Apparently his doctor has really been on him about upping his water intake with all of the time he spends outdoors. Maybe I should get him in touch with Brooke for some tips. I swear my sister drinks enough water for three humans.

I glance Max’s way as the stables come into view and find him staring at me. I offer him a tentative smile, and he smilesin return. Maybe it’s okay to be vulnerable with Max. I’ve tried so hard to hide my weaknesses from everyone around me, but when you live with someone it’s impossible to hide them all. Still, with him gone so much lately, it’s been easier to pretend I have it all together. He hasn’t been there for the times I’ve sunk down to the kitchen floor and sent wishing prayers up to the heavens, asking God to magic my life into something more manageable.

But of course, God isn’t in the business of magic. Miracles, sure. But when it comes to changing tough circumstances, I’d wager a guess that more often than not He doesn’t change them…He changes us.

That conversation Max and I just had–well, maybe it’s time I admit that might be part of His transformative process.

Not that I’ll ever admit as much to Dorothy. No, Max and I are still going to prove to her that she's wrong about us. We’renotgoing to be a chapter in her next book, that’s for dang sure.

“Alright you two,” Rhett announces as we reach the stable, “you probably have an hour or so before the rest of the retreaters get back.” He eyes Max. “Are you going to help your wife off her horse or should I?”

Max is off his horse and hurrying over to me so fast that I don’t even have time to tell him that I don’t need help. And then, as he takes me by the waist, I forget all about how I can get down by myself. His grip is so strong and sure as he lifts me, that I almost forget to think about the five pounds I’d really like to lose one of these days. He sets me safely on the ground, letting his hands linger for so long I get the sense he might actually appreciate the extra curves middle age has bestowed on me.

But that’s ridiculous.

Ri-diculous.

I need someone to splash some water on my face before I get carried away. Luckily, Max releases me before I do somethingstupid like sigh or become a swooning woman who relies on her husband just to remain standing.

Like a purse or a necklace. Sure I might dress up your outfit, but at the end of the day if I disappeared, you’d still look great. Still be completely together. You don’t need me.

Max’s earlier statement comes back to haunt me. Maxwantsme to need him. He just said as much. So why am I still resisting the very idea? Maybe instead I should be looking for ways to show him I need him.

Because I do.

Loathe as I would ever be to say as much out loud, I do need my husband.

I almost shudder at admitting this just to myself, at putting words to feelings that have always been there inside me. The desire for him to be around more, to be present with the kids and me…I suppose what that boils down to is me needing him.

How ironic.

“Jill, are you coming?” Max asks, and I realize I’ve just been standing mutely next to Brutus, my mouth hanging slightly open. Attractive.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say all breezy-like. “I was just, you know, saying goodbye to Brutus. Goodbye, Brutus,” I coo, pressing my face to his flank for show, thankful that his mane is soft and seemingly clean. I knew I liked horses. “Thank you for letting me ride you,” I add for good measure. I pat him twice, then step away.

I’m very smooth.

Max’s lips twitch in amusement as I walk toward him, but I hold my chin up. Rhett assures us there’s nothing we need to do for the horses grooming wise, so we thank him and head out of the stables.

“So,” Max hedges, “what should we do with this free hour we seem to have acquired for ourselves?”

---