never checked the balances. He looked again at the balance in Mari’s account. The numbers stared at him smugly. He only needed a thousand or so to cover the credit card bill for this month.
He should ask her, first. It was her money. But he knew she’d just give him one of those quizzical looks and a smile. She’d never deny him. He’d just do it and tell her a little later. Or better yet, he’d just replace the money when he started getting his full paychecks again. She’d never know. It wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t as if they were going bankrupt or anything.
A quick tap-tap of the keys and it was done. A thousand dollars shifted from Mari’s account to the joint one. It nicely covered the upcoming bills, with a little left over in case he needed to hit the ATM for some cash. It all worked out just fine.
Ryan had just closed the browser when his wife came in. He swiveled in his office chair to find her holding up two glasses of red wine. She smiled as she closed his door.
She kissed him before she gave him the wine. She smelled good. She tasted good. Rich and earthy, like wine but so much better. She settled herself on his lap, straddling him, careful not to spill.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” Ryan took a glass and sipped it. “That’s good.”
“I read about it in that magazine you subscribed to. It got a great rating. I saw it at the liquor store and figured I’d pick up a bottle.”
The wine cost, by his best guess, about forty bucks a bottle. Ryan winced. “It’s really good. Thanks.”
“You like it?” She sipped and swallowed. “I do.”
He did like it; that was the problem. Probably more because he knew the price tag. Behind him, the computer monitor cast an accusatory glow around them. Ryan ignored it.
“I like it a lot.” He inched her closer. “Where are the kids?”
“Ethan’s asleep. Kendra’s video chatting with someone.”
“Who?”
Mari shrugged. “Different person every time I go into her room.”
“Boy or girl?”
She gave him that look. That tender, amused look. “Both?”
Ryan frowned. “Not that Logan kid. The one with the pierced lip?”
“Honey, I don’t know. Anyway, what difference does it make? She can’t get pregnant from a video chat, thank goodness. She’s going to talk to boys, Ryan. It’s part of being a pretty fifteen-year-old girl. If she didn’t have boys wanting to talk to her, you’d worry about that.”
He didn’t want to admit that was true. “I don’t like that kid.”
“Because he has long hair and paints his fingernails?” Mari laughed. “You’re such a prepper.”
She meant preppy, but he didn’t correct her. “She should be in bed. It’s almost eleven. Doesn’t she have to get up for school tomorrow?”
“Yes. But she knows that it’s on her if she’s tired in the morning. She’s not a dummy. Besides, they have three half days this week, and then they’re done for the summer. You know they won’t be doing anything in class, anyway. And don’t you have to get up early for work tomorrow? Isn’t it your early day?”
Twice a month for the past ten years, Ryan had been volunteering his time at the Sexual Abuse Resource Center, offering free counseling. He went in two hours before work to see patients. But with the investigation going on about Annette Somers, he’d thought it would be best to step down from that volunteer position.
He hadn’t told Mari and now faced with the chance, found himself unable to.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Don’t hit the snooze button three times,” she warned him. “I might have to poke you. Hard.”
Ryan put his glass on the edge of the desk and used both hands to anchor her on his lap. He tipped his face to look up at her. “Poking permission granted.”
His wife sipped more wine and set down her glass, too. “I can’t believe it’s almost summer. I’m not sure I’m ready for it. I still haven’t figured out about camp. I’d like them both to go at the same time, but the one Ethan likes is shifted a week earlier this year. Oh, and Kendra’s riding instructor called to say they were changing lesson times. Ethan says he wants to learn to play the guitar, so I don’t know when we’ll fit that in. What’s the name of that place where your friend’s son took lessons?”
“Yeah...about that...” Ryan’s mouth, still thick with the flavor of red wine, dried. His tongue stuck in place. He swallowed heavily. “Maybe the kids need a break from some of that stuff this year. I mean, studies are showing that kids are so overscheduled these days.”
Some of the wives of Ryan’s friends never stopped moving. Multitasking queens, never still. Some of them were pluckers, forever picking at imaginary bits of lint on their husbands’ shirts. Others were texters, chatting briskly even as they held a series of entirely different conversations with their fingers. Bustlers.
Mari had a stillness that was more than quiet. She could go perfectly motionless and silent. She could almost disappear. Ryan almost always found this calming. She did it now, looking him over, and this time it didn’t soothe him.
“I thought you liked it when the kids were kept busy.”
“You could get a break, too. Why should you spend your summer playing chauffeur?” He spun his chair with her still on his lap to gesture at the computer. “Sign them up for the library reading program. And hey, they have that free bowling program at the Cinebowl.”
“We do those things every summer. But the kids look forward to those other things, they’re not chores.” Her head tilted slightly, her brow furrowing. “Kendra loves the riding lessons, and Ethan is already talking about the guitar thing. They both like camp, too, because they see their friends from other years there. And I don’t mind driving. I mean...it’s what I do. I’m their mother. It’s my job. Would you rather I spend all my time getting massages at the spa?”
The brittle tone in her voice set him back for a second. “No.” Definitely the opposite with the financial situation they were in.
“My kids don’t make me crazy,” Mari said quietly. “I like doing things with them. And for them.”
“I know. But you shouldn’t have to spend all your time driving them around from activity to activity. It’s summer. We should be focused on simpler things. And with you running around all the time, we get too much takeout.”
Her lips quirked in amusement. “I thought you liked Pat’s cheesesteaks.”
“I do.” He did, that was true. But a simple dinner for four had added up to almost forty bucks. “It’s better when you make dinner, that’s all.”
“So...your idea of my having the summer off includes me keeping the kids entertained and cooking even more dinners? Great.” She tilted her head to give him a curious look. “That sounds really relaxing.”
