Chapter 6
I TAKE HIM LUNCH
If you know what a man wants, you can make him love you. That was my reasoning, anyway. If Rory craved power, I’d give it to him.
Erica and I finished up at the salon and then pushed our carts through Target and Marshall’s together.
I spent more money than I should have, and so did Erica.
It’s not my fault that the two stores had such cute things on sale.
We would typically grab lunch, but Erica had a date with her husband.
She invited me to join them, but in my current state of sex and food deprivation, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.
When you’re down and out, and your marriage is struggling, you sure as heck don’t want to go sit at a table with two flirting lovebirds desperately trying to keep their clothes on throughout the meal.
Besides, I didn’t eat these days, so what was I going to do?
I drove along Main Street toward South Willard, driving carefully over the gray slush.
It must have been a few degrees over freezing, as the snow on the trees was slowly turning to water and dripping to the ground.
Passing by the University of Vermont, I saw Rory’s favorite taco truck with a line starting to form at the window.
Perhaps my gift of power today would be to deliver lunch to my hardworking husband.
I tried to call him, but the call went to voicemail.
He ate later than the more regular noon hour, so I wasn’t worried that he’d already eaten.
It’s the thought that counts, anyway. On the chance my timing was off for Rory, I could always give the tacos to the young and beautiful Kim.
Maybe I’d slip a dose of rat poison in there.
Just kidding. Sort of. Maybe a laxative?
Nothing lethal. Geez, settle yourself down over there.
Even I have boundaries. I’m not a killer, for goodness’ sake. Not yet.
I found a parking spot nearby, pulled on my coat, and left the warmth of the car. The icy winds from Lake Champlain cut through the air, and I tightened my scarf as I raced across the street to take a place in line at the taco truck.
As a vegetarian, I prefer never to buy meat, but I was about to make an exception.
This was part of the power I’d give Rory today.
In an effort to please him, I’d reluctantly compromise my beliefs.
Through chattering teeth, I ordered one lingua, one chorizo, and one carne taco.
I didn’t want to know what went into making those things, and I tried not to think about the animals that had been sacrificed for my husband’s brief lunchtime joy.
Driving into the heart of downtown, I slowed to enjoy the Christmas decorations.
Lights covered the trees on either side of Church Street.
The lampposts were dressed in red and white to look like candy canes.
People wearing heavy jackets and ski hats dashed in and out of stores, many probably looking for last-minute gifts.
I finally parked and went to find my husband.
I held onto the railing as I carefully climbed the stone steps of City Hall.
As I made my way toward Rory’s upstairs office, I stopped to visit with several people, wishing them happy holidays and asking about their families.
I worried the tacos would be cold by the time I reached Rory, but it was better to deliver cold tacos than for me to come off as being anything less than darling Margot to his coworkers.
Nadine, the one I liked to hide with at parties, sat at her desk. A picture of the president hung behind her on the wall. She looked up from her computer screen. “Hey, girl. What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d bring the—” I almost called him the Dream Killer but caught myself. “I brought my sweet babycakes lunch. Is he here?”
Nadine grinned. “Yep, he’s in the office.”
I started toward the door, thinking of cold tacos. “I’m sure he’s on the phone, but I’m going in anyway.”
“You can do whatever you want. We all know you’re the boss.” After we shared a smile, she returned her eyes to the screen.
I knocked and pushed open the door. Rory stood over a patch of fake turf in the middle of the office with a putter in his hand.
As he spoke through a headset to someone on the other end, he tapped a golf ball toward a hole.
I’d given him that toy and was glad to see him using it.
Though I couldn’t care less whether he’d scored his shot or gotten his point or dropped the ball or whatever it was called.
“There’s no way they will give you a permit,” Rory said into the phone. “Yes, I’m fully aware that I’m the mayor, but there’s nothing I can do about it, Wesley. I live by the same laws we all do.”
Adding to my loving gestures for the morning, I pulled the tacos out of the white bag, unwrapped them from the foil, and arranged them neatly next to his keyboard.
I’d even remembered to ask for a to-go cup of his favorite green hot sauce.
I sat in one of the chairs by his desk and waited for him to finish the call.
As I always did while sitting in that chair, I enjoyed the framed photographs on the wall.
Other than one of his parents, they were all pictures of Jasper and me.
My favorite was the one of Jasper standing to applause after winning one of his first recitals when he was only three.
Three, I say! I couldn’t help but beam with pride.
There was one of me on stage in a production of The Sound of Music from when I was in my early twenties, a time that felt no closer than the Ice Age.
There were a few shots of the three of us in different countries on our family trips.
Skiing in Chamonix, exploring Rory’s roots in Glasgow, and chasing the northern lights while in Finland.
I wondered if he ever looked at these pictures.
If he felt like I did when I strolled down memory lane.
When I saw these pictures, I craved making more memories just like these.
Did he even see the pictures anymore, or were they solely there to enhance his image as a family man?
Had someone on his team suggested hanging the pictures?
Hopefully, they were displayed for both reasons.
We’d had such fun together traveling back then.
That’s when Jasper and I’d been able to pull Rory away from work and get him to cut loose.
Rory ended his call and set the putter against the wall. “What are you doing here?” Then he added, almost like he had to, “What a nice surprise.”
Was it, Rory? Was it a nice surprise? I pointed at his desk and said in a chirpy tone, “I brought you tacos.”
He hadn’t noticed them yet. “Oh, wow. Thanks.”
“You don’t seem too excited.”
He touched his belly. “I have a business lunch in like five minutes, and I’m already feeling fat.”
“Just eat one. I didn’t know you had a lunch. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I appreciate the gesture.”
The gesture? Who talks like that? I could see he was not only surprised but disturbed by my visit. I stood abruptly and gathered the tacos. “I’ll take these home. You can heat them up later.”
“Oh, c’mon, Marge.”
“Please don’t call me Marge.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I am appreciative, I just…I wish you’d called.”
I looked at the floor. “I did.”
Rory walked around the desk. “I wish I’d known you were coming, that’s all.” He touched my arm. “Today is tough for me.”
I sat back in the chair. “Can we sit together for five minutes?” I wanted him to ask how my day was going, what I was thinking about.
I wanted to wave my hands in the air and say, “I’m here!
I’m here! I’m trying to show you how much I love you.
I’m trying with every fiber of my being to be a great wife. ”
He shook his head. “Not today. Please understand. I have five guys waiting for me at Leunig’s. Can we talk later?”
I had a feeling that if it hadn’t been five guys waiting at Leunig’s, there would have been something else.
I was an intruder. I put on a smile that gave no indication I was upset.
I stood and said lightheartedly, “I knew I was taking a gamble. It was worth a shot. At least we were able to spend a moment together.” I pecked him on the cheek. “Go tear up your day.”
“Are you mad at me?” He offered his finest smile.
I forced an even brighter smile. “Not in the least. We committed to all this hard work together. I just wanted to show you that I love you.”
“Message received, loud and clear.” Another kiss, and he nearly ran out the door. I’d forgotten until now, but his mismatched socks were the last thing I saw.
I left in a sad haze. Rather than going home, I decided my earlier Target and Marshall’s fueled retail therapy hadn’t been enough.
For me, no true retail therapy session is complete without a stop at Williams-Sonoma.
By stop, I mean setting up a temporary residency.
I could never just swing by my favorite store.
When I walked through those doors, I came to play.
I don’t even want to tell you the truth, but oh, well. As I strolled into the store, two of the ladies in green aprons waved and one of them said, “Welcome back, Margot.”
“Hi, Alicia. Hi, Beth. How are you?”
Alicia, to my knowledge the newest and youngest employee at the store, said, “Let us know if we can help you find anything.” She waved a hand at me and grinned. “But I think you know your way around.”
Like any good shopper, something came alive in my eyes when I worked my way through the aisles. I could scan two displays simultaneously, looking for both new items and any discounts worth checking out. Seeing all these kitchen gadgets immediately made me feel better.