Page 71 of The Marriage Game

“Goodness. How disappointing.” She sighs, but then brightens. “Well, perhaps I’ll have to go with an illustrated cover, after all. They are quite popular right now.”

“There you go.” Jill jumps on board this train of thought. “I think an illustrated cover sounds great. Don’t you, Max?”

“What?” I blink out of the daydream I’ve been in for a minute. “Sure, yes, a leather cover sounds great.”

“Leather?” Jill is confused. “No, I said illustrated.”

“Oh…Right…Illustrated. Sounds good.” I clear my throat. Meanwhile our author friend is smiling broadly at me, like she knows exactly why I accidentally said leather. Who am I kidding? She’s a romance author. Of course she knows why I mistakenly said leather.

“You know, I’d provide the costumes for the cover,” she says thoughtfully. “Free of charge.”

Next to me Jill stands to attention. The woman has said the magic word.Free. She’s hooked now. Which means I’m going to have to be the sane, strong one. Goodbye, Jill in a leather jacket.

“Jill,” I murmur, “we can’t actually do this. Unless of course you’re actually trying to add a little scandal to my campaign.” I shake my head. “Imagine the slogan…Max Bernard for state senate—you may not know him from his work as an attorney, but you’ll recognize him from his stint as a romance cover model.”

“Obviously that’s too long for a campaign slogan,” she whispers back. “You have to make it short and pithy.” She holds up her hands, bracketing her next words. “Max Bernard. Your ideal leading man.” Her hands drop as she smiles in satisfaction. “See what I did there? Leading like, starring in, and leading like the way a senator leads.” She frowns. “Although a slogan that requires an explanation isn’t typically very effective marketing.”

“Jill,” I begin, still at whisper-volume, but the woman interjects.

“Wait, did you say Bernard?” Apparently in addition to being a trumpeter of outlandish ideas, she also has super hearing.

We both turn. “Uh, yes,” Jill confirms. “We’re the Bernards.”

“Oh, how lovely! You’re Ellie’s parents. What a precocious little girl. Absolutely delightful. A kindred spirit, as I know a future romance reader when I see one. Why the two of us had a lengthy discussion just the other day about the merits of Kristoff as compared to those of Flynn Ryder. She prefers Kristoff, but she’s young. She’ll realize she’s wrong eventually.” She lets out a tinkly laugh.

“Wait, you know Ellie?” I ask, slightly alarmed at the thought of my six-year-old reading romance novels one day. I’m not ready for that. We just had a tea party the other day, and there were no boys invited. Just stuffed animals. Well, and me, I guess. But I’m her dad.

“Of course, I know Ellie,” the woman exclaims. “I know all of my students.”

“Students? You’re not Ellie’s teacher,” Jill says.

“Yes, I am,” the woman counters.

“No, you’re not,” Jill insists. “She has Mrs. Cromwell. And I know you’re not Mrs. Cromwell because I volunteer in their classroom once a week.”

“Of course I’m not Mrs. Cromwell.” She laughs again. “And did you say volunteer? Do you like to volunteer? Because you know, I am always looking for volunteers myself. The faster I can get books back on the shelves, the more time I have to write.”

“Books back on the shelves?” Jill cocks her head. “Wait, are you the school librarian?”

The woman nods. “That’s right.” She holds out a hand. “Nice to officially meet you, Jill. My name is Belinda Lagman.”

“Mrs. Lagman!” Jill enthuses. “Of course! Ellie talks about you!”

“Oh how lovely to hear.” Belinda gives a little clap. “Now did we discuss whether or not you like to read, Jill? Because you know, I may have put the cart before the horse, asking you to volunteer without checking that first. I do prefer all of my volunteers to be readers. Bonus points if you like romance novels like me.”

“I do like to read,” Jill replies. “Although, truthfully, I don’t have much time to do so.”

“One word, Jill: audiobooks,” Belinda enunciates the word like she’s giving the answer onWheelof Fortune. “Paperbacks are still my favorite medium, but the ability to listen to books while I’m driving or doing the dishes has increased my Goodreads books read in a year stats by thirty percent.” She presses something on her phone screen, then turns it to face Jill. “This app is connected to the public library. I use it to check out audiobooks. Here’s the one I’m listening to now.” She indicates the book on the screen.

“When Marriage isn’t Happily Ever After: How to Fight for Your Spouse in the Hard Times,” Jill reads the title. “That doesn’t sound like a romance,” Jill comments wryly.

“Oh, but of course it is,” Belinda exclaims. “What’s more romantic than fighting for your marriage?” She lifts her phone. “Admittedly this is a non-fiction book, unlike most of my reads, but I stand by what I said. Our love stories don't end after the I do’s. That’s really only the beginning.” She looks between us as she says her next words. “And truly, isn’t it the struggles we go through as a couple that make our marriage stronger? That make us recognize our need for God in our marriage all the more?”

Her words send an unexpected tingling through my body that lifts the hairs on my arms. It’s one of those moments that feels significant for reasons you can’t put words to. It’s one part promising, another part ominous. Like the idea of a richer relationship with Christ at the cost of a difficult season. If that’s true in marriage too, I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Jill’s arm snakes around my back, and she clutches me like an anchor. Something settles inside me. We’re fine, the two of us.

Our marriage is rock solid.

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