Page 60 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
Being the stinker that he is, Van says nothing about his plan for the whole time he drives me to volunteer or after he picks me up. He just keeps telling me that ‘I’ll find out later’ with a mischievous smile that makes me want to poke him in the ribs.
Fortunately, I helped residents with interview skills today, so I was able to sit with my foot elevated as I guided them to come up with answers to questions about gaps in employment and how to frame domestic work in corporate terms. Telling the interviewers they performed financial planning and budget oversight for family budgeting or educational support and operations management for keeping children’s school schedules goes a long way. Each of them essentially ran a small business centered around human development and operational efficiency, and they should be treated with the respect that comes with that.
With the wind being so bad today, I had to close the garage doors to the gym in order to teach my Tuesday evening class. The pain in my ankle is ten times worse from having to sit on the counter with my legs dangling. All I want is to go home, splay on the couch, and watchCelebrity Circuit.
After dropping me off, I’d thought Van might attend class and help me with cleaning up, but Carson and Jonas—two firefighters who work with Noah—take care of it instead. By the time Van returns to pick me up in his white truck, Carson is lifting me off the countertop. I don’t miss the tick of Van’s jaw when Carson insists on carrying me outside. Normally, I’d scold both of them for acting like testosterone turkeys, but I’m beyond exhausted.
Maybe I should add a bubble bath to my list of things to do once this day is over? Yes. Cancel everything else. My new plan is to dissolve into a bubble bath of bliss.
I’m fantasizing about slipping into warm sudsy heaven as Van helps me into the truck bed and sets a bag of frozen peas on my elevated ankle.
“How was class?” he asks, his palm resting on my legging-covered calf after the engine roars to life.
I nearly groan when his thumb begins a gentle massage. “Fine.”
He nods, his gaze over the dark road, that muscle in his jaw jumping again. I’m too tired for words tonight, but I lean my head against the passenger seat and reach my fingers out until they settle over his. Van flips his hand instantly, intertwining our fingers. His shoulders loosen as he begins humming the country song on the radio, and I close my eyes, oddly content for how much pain I’m in. As soon as we’re home, I’ll ask Van to get me some medicine too. When Van starts to softly sing, his velvety voice filling the small cab, my entire body relaxes with a happy sigh.
“Darlin’.” It takes me several seconds to realize that Van has probably used my nickname more than once.
I draw in a deep breath, wiping drool from the side of my mouth. Had I fallen asleep on the two-minute drive home?
My eyelashes flutter as I blink to focus. “Yeah?”
That’s when I notice his pink ears in the wan porchlight drifting through the windshield, how he’s biting the edge of his bottom lip. “This was supposed to be a pleasant surprise, but I can see you’re dead tired. If you’ll just give me a few minutes to shoo everyone out, I’ll bring you inside.”
“Everyone?” I rub my eyes with a fist, destroying my mascara.
He squeezes my fingers still intertwined with his. “I wanted you to see how much you’re loved. It was supposed to be fun.”
I tense. I can’t help it. Love was always wrapped in a condition. Dad would spend more time with us if I won pageants more often. Mom would love me if I was perfect.
But Joanna has seen me at my absolute worst and still wants me to have her grandmother’s ring. Noah keeps showing up and pestering me, making sure I don’t recede into myself. Vivian and Brynn haven’t stopped inviting me to activities, even though I’ve said no more times than yes.
And Van…
Van is suddenly too far away. I scoot closer, wincing as my foot collides with his thigh. Van murmurs something incoherent as he lifts my leg onto his lap so he can run his fingers over my temples, tucking away strands of hair blown free from the wind.
All day, there’s been this restless hum just beneath the surface. I assumed it was agitation from being injured, but now I see it for what it is—fear. I want to be good for Van too. Because Van is golden laughs and sweet gestures, and I’m…me.
“But I’m a grouch.”
The corner of his mouth tilts in an almost sad way as his fingers trace down my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“So what? Everyone here knows that.”
“But…but—”
The pad of his thumb presses over my lips. “We like you as you are—gruff and cranky and so darned considerate you don’t even recognize it. Be a grouch, Gen. No one is trying to change you.”
My heart thuds in my chest, heavy but hopeful at the same time. I’m often confident in my actions, in my decisions, but this is something that’s always evaded me. I’ve always been a bit rough around the edges. During my pageant days, I had to file that into softened curves and warm smiles. I overcorrected after moving to Wilks Beach. But now…maybe it’s time to be the version of myself I only allow in the safety of a quaint wing shop. Maybe I can let both sides of my personality entwine in balance. Maybe Icanhave a pink house with aGo Awaymat beneath my front door.
“I want to do whatever you’ve planned,” I tell him, the incessant buzzing fading away.
“Really?”
The way Van lights up, the way his dimple pops as his smile creases the corner of his eyes nearly annihilates the fatigue dragging on my limbs. In the cozy warmth of his truck bed, I realize that I’ve also been waiting for this. For Van to be unabashedly who he is—pure, brilliant light. Van is undoubtedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me, even considering the windfall of blessings I’ve received since arriving in Wilks Beach.
Let him be him, and let me be me.
