Chapter 4
four
As Rob went for seconds at the loaded dining room table, every imaginable dish seemed to be there, from sushi to gnocchi to kimchi—an international smorgasbord.
But since his taste was relatively tame, and since his wife rarely made it, he went for more lasagna.
He knew Jane would give him hecky pecky, as his mother used to call it, for overeating so much rich food, and perhaps he’d pay for it at bedtime, but he did have a secret stash of Tums in his nightstand.
Pausing in the kitchen, fascinated by the chaotic clutter everywhere, he wondered if it was possible to love your wife for thirty-seven years and still not understand her.
Rob didn’t know the answer to that perplexity, and he’d been asking that question of himself for many years.
Jane remained a mystery. She had a sweet, caring side and a critical, judgmental side.
How did both of those personalities occupy the same woman?
And, unless he was imagining things, her obsession with perfection was increasing with each passing year.
To be fair, he’d appreciated her commitment to homemaking early in the game.
Their house was always immaculate, his clothes clean and pressed, good food on the table, their only child conscientiously parented.
Some of his friends thought Jane was the ideal wife.
Especially when so many of his friends had wives with their own demanding careers, Rob had felt lucky to have a stay-at-home wife.
But then Olivia had gone off to college, and Jane had suddenly seemed more driven than ever.
A friend had said it was just empty-nest syndrome, and she would mellow in time, but it seemed like her previous high standards had become more ramped up than ever.
First, she’d insisted on remodeling their kitchen.
And maybe it had needed enlarging and upgrading.
But looking at Cindy’s old-fashioned, outdated kitchen and knowing the kinds of meals she whipped out .
. . well, it made no sense. After the kitchen, Jane redecorated their whole house, and he began to worry that having an empty nest was going to empty his wallet.
He even encouraged her to get a job or work in his office, but she wasn’t having it.
Then he suggested volunteering at church, but she claimed there was too much to be done at home.
In the last ten years, her obsession over cleanliness and order and perfection had increased to an almost intolerable level.
Okay, it was downright intolerable! If he didn’t escape from his home through work and playing golf on Saturdays and poker on Thursdays, he knew he’d be miserable.
Sometimes, although he’d never admitted this to anyone, he was worried she was spinning into something like OCD.
He’d read up on it and even mentioned it to her once, but she’d just laughed and made excuses.
And, to be fair, he hadn’t noticed any obsessive habits that crossed over into compulsions.
She didn’t turn lights off and on or check locks or insist they go back home to ensure the coffee maker wasn’t still on—although it turned off automatically anyway.
But sometimes he wondered if those behaviors were just around the corner.
“Hey, Rob,” Erik said as he joined him in the kitchen, getting a beer from the fridge. “Halftime’s over, better get back in there.” He held up his IPA. “Need a brewski to go with that?” He nodded to Rob’s plate. “Mandy made that. Her mom’s recipe. Don’t tell her, but Cindy’s is still better.”
“Well, this was pretty good.” Rob reached for a second beer, his wife’s warning voice in his ear, but he didn’t care.
“Jonathon is still taking bets on the game. The 49ers might be down, but I’m predicting a comeback.”
“Rob!” Cindy said as she came into the kitchen. “I never got a chance to say hello and thank you for coming. I heard Jane isn’t feeling well. I hope she’s not getting what we had.”
“It’s just a headache. By the way, happy birthday.”
“Jocelyn just showed me the gift you brought.” She beamed at him. “You didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did. Presents are fun. And I love the mug. The caption on it is perfect. Thanks so much. And tell Jane thanks, too, and that I hope she gets better soon.”
“I will.” Rob made an uneasy nod, hating to feel deceptive.
“I have some homemade chicken broth in my freezer. Maybe I’ll bring her some tomorrow if she’s still under the weather.”
“Thanks.” Rob forced a smile.
“Now, come on.” Erik tugged his arm. “Sounds like they’re playing.”
Rob’s smile turned genuine. “Excuse me, birthday girl, but it seems the 49ers are calling.”
***
The game was over, much to the dismay of the 49ers and their fans.
Rob lost his ten-dollar bet, and Erik invited him out to the garage to see his latest woodworking project.
The McEntires’ garage, like the rest of their home, was a colorful scene of muddled mess, but somehow Erik picked his way through the minefield to a workbench.
Amid a bunch of random tools and things stood a row of birdhouses in various stages of construction.
“I feel kind of silly about these, but my granddaughter Arianna had me make one for her birthday last summer, and suddenly all my grands claimed they needed one too. I hope to get these all done in time for Christmas.”
“I’m impressed. You could go into business. Or retirement.” He chuckled. “Are you thinking of retiring?”
“Well, I’m sixty-seven now. Cindy keeps urging me to pull the plug and enjoy life more.
” He looked around the garage and sighed.
“But I’m worried that if I retire, I’ll end up spending all my time organizing this disaster area, and that sounds like a heckofa lot more work than my job at the insurance office. ”
Rob laughed. “I see what you mean. I’m not eager to retire either.”
“Not for this reason.” Erik gestured at the mess. “Your garage is immaculate, Rob. I’ve seen it. I think you could eat off the floor in there.”
Rob actually rolled his eyes. “Tempting at times.”
“Huh?”
“You want to know the real reason I don’t want to retire?”
“Sure.”
Rob let out a long sigh, wondering how much he should say but feeling like he might explode if he didn’t get to talk to someone. And Erik seemed like an understanding friend. Besides, he knew Jane. He’d been in their home.
“The truth is, it’s a little unsettling to imagine being home all the time, 24/7, you know?”
Erik’s brow creased slightly. “You mean being underfoot?”
“Sort of. Jane is so fastidious that it can be, uh, hard to relax.”
Erik put the lid on an open paint can. “Oh, yeah. I get that. Truth is, I sorta feel like I have to be in my Sunday best at your house.”
“You’re not the only one.” Rob frowned. “Erik, can I ask you something—and get an honest answer?”
“Sure, anytime.” He pushed the can away.
“Do you know what OCD is?”
“Obsessive-compulsive disorder? Sure, I watch old reruns of Monk.”
Rob’s smile felt weak. “Yeah, like that. Do you think Jane’s got it?”
With a thoughtful look, Erik shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible. Kinda makes sense. Have you ever mentioned it to her?”
Rob’s laugh sounded hollow to his own ears. “Are you kidding? I even made her watch a few Monk episodes with me a couple years ago. And I asked her about why he was like that, and she said he was just eccentric and charming. She couldn’t see the dysfunction.”
“Sometimes they’re the last to know.”
“I guess. But the thing is, she’s getting worse, and it’s hard to live with her.” He looked pointedly at Erik. “Probably hard to be her neighbor too.”
Erik just laughed. “I have a feeling it’s harder on her than us.” He shrugged. “We’re so busy with our lives and kids and stuff, we don’t pay her much mind.”
“And Cindy is always trying to befriend her.”
“Well, we go to the same church, Rob. And we are supposed to love our neighbors. Even if they’re, well, difficult.”
“Hello, there in the garage?” called a male voice.
“Well, I’ll be, that sounds like one of my boys.” Erik tried to see the door, but it was blocked by a pile of boxes. “Malcolm, is that you?”
“You guessed it!” The young man picked his way toward them. “Mr. Bradshaw!” Malcolm looked surprised. “I didn’t expect to find you here.” They shook hands.
“Your dad was just showing me his Christmas projects.”
“Wow, Dad, when you said you were working on a birdhouse, I didn’t realize you were going into production. These are awesome.”
“All the grands seemed to think they needed one. So, what are you doing here?”
“Came for Mom’s birthday. Figured better late than never. And Mom didn’t seem to mind.” He turned back to Rob. “By the way, I brought a surprise for you.”
“Huh?” Rob blinked.
“Your daughter came with me.”
“Olivia?” Rob was stunned. “She’s here?”
“In the house with Mom and the ladies. Last I saw they were shoving food at her, but I wanted to say hey to Dad.”
Erik grabbed his son into a big bear hug. “Well, I’m so glad to see you, son. Thanks for coming. But you might have to sleep on the floor.” He started to rattle off how many kids and grandkids were camped out in the various rooms.”
“We have an empty guest room,” Rob said suddenly, despite knowing he probably shouldn’t. “Why not stay with us, Malcolm?”
“Seriously?” Malcolm looked surprised.
“Absolutely. The guest room is always ready but rarely gets used.”
“We’re only here for one night,” Malcolm told him.
“And you came together?” Rob studied the tall young man. “How did that happen?”
“Well, sir, I might as well let the cat out of the bag.”
“Sounds like veterinarian talk to me,” Erik teased. “Did you hear he’s practicing at a vet clinic in Salem?”
“That’s right. Congratulations on graduating vet school, Malcolm. Or should I call you Dr. McEntire?”
Malcolm laughed. “First name’s good.”
“So, tell me, what proverbial cat are you talking about?” Rob asked.
“Well, Olivia and I met by chance at the clinic where I work.” He quickly explained about her work friend’s feline trouble while Rob impatiently waited.
“And?”
“Well, we sort of hit it off. I mean we’ve always been friends. But this, well, it’s different.” His cheeks actually reddened a bit. “More serious.”
Rob didn’t know what to say and felt his brows arching as he imagined Jane’s reaction to this news. “Well, Malcolm . . . Olivia is a fine girl. Not that I’m biased.” He forced a nervous chuckle. “And I’m happy you two ran into each other like that.”
Erik slapped his son’s back. “We’ve always loved Olivia. She was over here so much she felt like one of the family.”
“That’s what she says too, Dad.”
“So, are you two planning to make this a permanent arrangement?” Erik asked eagerly. “Setting a date?”
“Dad.” Malcolm shook his head. “Don’t rush things. We’re only dating right now. I mean, it’s exclusive and all. But we’re not in any big hurry.”
“Well, your mom will be thrilled.” Erik beamed. “Does she know?”
“Not exactly. But I saw a glint in her eye when she hugged Olivia and figured I should give you a heads-up.” Malcolm turned to Rob. “So, is that invitation to stay at your house still good? Or would you prefer to think it over and, uh, maybe consult your wife?”
Rob thought for a good long moment, then slowly shook his head. “No need to consult the missus. I invited you, Malcolm. It’s my home and you are welcome.” He chuckled. “Might be just the right medicine for Jane to have an unexpected guest.”
But he was thinking of an old saying his grandmother quipped when dosing him with some family remedy—“kill or cure.” For all he knew, that might be true in Jane’s case.
Because if Olivia and Malcolm were truly getting serious, Jane would probably faint or throw a fit.
Rob knew how to dial 911 and administer CPR, but hopefully it wouldn’t come down to that.