9. Ramona #2
“You can have some.” I give him another kiss before letting go. “Keep paying attention, and I’ll be fucking delightful.”
***
My boots are beneath his chair and his shirt is hanging from the terrace handle.
Julius stands at the window while I fasten my earrings, watching somebody clear snow from a path below.
“We could walk before breakfast.” I find him in the mirror. “Provided you don’t plan to complain about being cold.”
“I brought a coat.” He turns toward me, smiling. “I’m capable of getting dressed without ranch supervision.”
“You forgot socks on our honeymoon.” I reach for my other earring.
“I had other things on my mind.” He comes up behind me, putting his hands on my hips.
His mouth touches my neck before his phone vibrates on the dresser.
I watch him in the mirror. He keeps his face against my skin until it vibrates again, and then his eyes move toward it.
“That’s your work phone.” I lower my earring. “You said it was staying in the bag.”
“I know.” He straightens, his hands slipping away from me.
“Everybody knows we’re gone.” I turn as he picks it up and reads the screen.
“It’s Dakota.” His thumb moves before he looks at me. “She’s asking about the gray mare.”
“Is she hurt?” I wait beside the dresser.
“No, she’s deciding whether to move her into the other pen.” He types while answering. “I’ll tell her where I want her.”
“Can’t she decide that?” I pick up my coat but don’t put it on.
“She can. I just know how the mare behaves in there.” He sends the message, then looks up. “That’s done.”
Another message appears while the phone is still in his hand, and he reads it.
I wait for him to put it down. His mouth lifts slightly, and he begins another reply while my coat slides against my fingers.
“What did she say?” I watch his face.
“She says the mare’s behaving better than the horse we worked before we left.” He glances at me. “You had to see it.”
“I didn’t.” I fold my coat over my arm.
He looks down when the screen lights again.
I take my key from the dresser. The little plastic card clicks against the wood, but he doesn’t lift his head.
“I’m going outside.” I walk toward the terrace doors.
“All right. I’ll be right there.” He keeps typing.
***
The coffee has gone cold by the time Julius comes outside. I keep the cup in my hands while he pulls a chair beside mine, close enough that his knee brushes my leg.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” He leans forward, trying to see my face. “I thought I could answer her quickly.”
“You always think that.” I set the cup down carefully, but it still knocks against the saucer. “Everyone else knows we’re away. Why does she get to keep you?”
“She had a question about one of the horses.” He reaches toward my hand, then stops when I draw it into my lap. “I wasn’t planning to spend the morning messaging her.”
“But you did, Julius.” I turn toward him, pressing my fingers together. “I was standing right beside you. You looked at me, told me you were finished, and went back to her.”
He rubs his palm along his thigh. Behind us, somebody opens a door on the neighboring terrace, and he waits until it closes before answering.
“I got distracted. I’m sorry.” He lowers his voice. “Can we still take that walk?”
I look at the coat folded over the empty chair. I carried it out here because I thought he would follow me.
“Do you think that’s all this is?” I pull my hands apart before my nails leave marks. “That I’m upset because we haven’t gone for a walk?”
“No, I know you wanted time together.” He looks at the untouched coffee, then back at me. “That’s why I brought you here.”
“I asked you to come to a cabin.” I have to stop and swallow before continuing. “You booked the plane and this place. I didn’t ask for any of it. I wanted you to put your phone away and spend two days with me.”
“I wanted to do a nice thing for you.” His shoulders draw back against the chair. “I thought you were enjoying it.”
“I was.” My voice breaks, and I press the heel of my hand to my face before he can reach for me. “That’s what makes this so fucking awful. I was happy. I thought we were getting somewhere.”
“We are.” He moves closer, his hand settling on the edge of my chair. “One conversation doesn’t take away everything we did yesterday.”
“It isn’t one conversation.” I look directly at him. “Why do I have to keep saying that?”
He takes his hand off the chair and presses it against his knee. I wait while he looks toward the mountains, then at the terrace doors.
“Tell me what you want me to do.” He finally meets my eyes. “I’ll put the phone away. I’ll tell her not to message again.”
“I want you to understand without me having to make you.” I press my palm against my chest, trying to get a full breath. “I don’t want to stand beside you wondering whether you’ll choose to finish talking to me.”
“You’re my wife, Ramona.” He says it quietly, leaning toward me. “You don’t have to wonder about that.”
“I do now.” I hold his gaze until he looks down. “I never used to.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks. He reaches for the cup, then leaves it where it is when he sees it’s still full.
“Why is it so easy to stay with her?” I ask it before I can lose the nerve. “You keep telling me you didn’t mean to. What makes you forget?”
His fingers close around the edge of his seat.
“We have things in common.” He looks up, then adds quickly, “The riding. Missing competition. She understands that without me having to explain it.”
“I understand that you miss it.” I lean forward, trying to keep him looking at me. “I’ve been asking you to tell me about it.”
“She knows what it feels like to stop doing the thing you were good at.” He looks at his hands. “I can talk without figuring out how to say every word.”
I reach for his hand. He pulls it back to scratch his neck, and mine stays between us before I lower it.
“You can talk to me.” I make myself say it again, although my throat hurts. “You used to.”
“I know.” He exhales, looking past me. “It’s just different with her.”