On the beach, mariachi music tapped Amanda’s nerves, threatening to explode her tension headache into a full-blown migraine. She flipped to her back and considered her mother-in-law beside her. “Another drink, Marianne?”
“Why, yes, that sounds lovely.” Marianne turned in her gigantic straw hat, face barely visible beneath the orange rim. She smiled. “Thank you, dear. A larger slice of lime this time, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.” Dusting sand off her legs, Amanda wrapped a towel around her waist and grabbed the tumblers.
At least she’d gotten Marianne to switch to iced tea.
She made her way to the tiki hut for the refills. The bartender sliced the limes to perfection, and her flip-flops sprayed sand as she returned the length of the beach, holding the chilly glasses.
Pressure burgeoned within her, ready to burst. She’d broken free of her cave and into the light. It was time to chase down her love, whether he wanted her or not. Whether Marianne approved or not.
Time to deliver the “I’m going home and you have to leave too” talk.
But when Amanda reached their sunning spot, Marianne set her book aside and chirped, “Let’s go for another dip!”
She removed her hat and skipped to the water, polka dots flapping in the breeze. “This salt water is downright invigorating,” Marianne called as she bobbed in the surf. “Afterward, we can play another game of gin. I’m so glad I thought to pack the cards!”
Amanda entered the water and let the warm wall splash against her, thinking if she had to play another round, she might start screaming. “Sounds super!” she exclaimed with false enthusiasm, and sank under the waves. The tide rocked her body for a blissful moment.
Underwater, heedless of the salt, she opened her eyes. Sand swirled in the clear motion. A little crab scuffled around her toes, then dug a hole, hiding itself completely. Her lungs cried out for air as her eyes started stinging. She had to breathe again.
Returning to the beach, Amanda dried the sticky water off her legs and settled into her lounger and watched as Marianne made similar preparations.
The woman adjusted her towel to ironing-board smoothness. She whisked away every granule of sand, then rubbed in a thick layer of sunscreen with vigorous, circular movements. She rolled the towel edge to prop her ankles, wriggled her hips and shrugged her shoulders. Finally she picked up her paperback, tilted her hat for maximum sun blockage, then sighed.
“Marianne.” Amanda made a conscious effort to put firmness in her voice. “I understand if you want a vacation, but it’s time for me to go back to Potter Springs. Back to Mark.”
Not bothering to look up from her novel, Marianne said, “No, dear. It’s not time. I told you… Mark’s not ready yet.”
“But why? Whatever it is, we can work it out-” Amanda forced images of Courtney’s long limbs, tangled in bedsheets, out of her mind.
“Hush, dear.” Marianne turned the warped page with a faint crackle, running her fingertip along the rough edges. “Not now. Trust me.”
It was the second instance the woman had made such a demand. And Amanda didn’t feel any closer to believing that she should trust someone who elevated the in-law relationship into a passive-aggressive art form.
Trust. Surrendering pride and making her way. Thorns and vines, tangling the path.
She’d clip away what she could, regardless of the hurt. She must step forward, out of deception, and into faith. “Marianne, I have to tell you something. About why I need to go home.”
Marianne set the book aside and gave her full attention, the round hat a ridiculous orange halo. “Yes?”
“When we lost the baby. It wasn’t just that. We haven’t told anyone. But the doctor said…” She felt her face contort, uncontrollable. “We can’t have any. Something’s wrong with me.” She voiced the shame out loud, unable to name why she surrendered the secret now. It seemed important, a foothold for understanding. She handed her enemy the greatest weapon she had, hoping for mercy. Expecting none.
“I can’t have a baby.” Looking up, she found Marianne’s perky features swathed in compassion.
“Oh, Mandy.” She breathed it out, three syllables of sadness.
Marianne had never used her daughter-in-law’s nickname. Before now. “Surely there are doctors?” She leaned forward and the book fell to the sand. “A specialist?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. But that’s why things were so hard. Between me and Mark.” She wiped a tear away. “But I’m getting better.”
“Of course you are, dear. It’s amazing you’ve held up this well. If there’s anything I can do… ,” Marianne offered, her voice hollow and helpless.
“Thank you. But I’m not sure there’s anything to do. It may be too late. For everything.”
She would not share her fears about Courtney. To share suspicions without fact seemed wrong. A breach of promise somehow. Mark deserved more than her groundless fears, and Dale’s tattle-tales. He deserved her honesty.
“I pulled away, I think.” Amanda stared at the rainbow pattern in the towel, the stripes warbling through her tears.
“Of course you pulled away. That would be natural.” Marianne patted her arm in a movement both comforting and protective. “You were hurting, you poor thing. Anybody would understand that.”
In one swift move, her mother-in-law had switched from adversary to advocate.
Emboldened, Amanda shifted her gaze from the terry cloth. Letting Marianne read the naked pain on her face. “That’s why I need to go back. To make it right.”
“I love my Mark, and you do too,” Marianne said. “But he’s not always… adept… when it comes to handling emotions. He tends to block things off and pretend for the best.”
“I know.” Amanda couldn’t believe the woman admitted Mark had a fault. It made it easier to keep going. To open her heart a bit more. “I haven’t made it easy on him.”
“It’s a tremendous loss.” Marianne blinked wetness from her eyes. “And one I can’t pretend to understand. But I’m so sorry. For you and Mark. And me. My grandbabies….” A flutter of a cry escaped her.
“I know. I’m so sorry too. I wish I could-”
“No, don’t you apologize. Not for this. Not ever.” She adjusted her hat. “You know Mark loves you-and I love you-just the way you are.”
“No. I didn’t know.” Amanda pushed her toes in the sand.
“Well, I do.” Marianne sat back in her chair, contemplating. “Perhaps the answer is to focus on what you already have. On what you have to give.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“You have Mark’s love. You have a family.”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that something?” Marianne raised her brows. Hopeful. “Maybe not enough, but isn’t it something wonderful?”
This, coming from a woman who’d lost her love. And never quite recovered.
“It is. That’s why I want to go home. I need-”
“Honey”-Marianne placed a gentle hand on Amanda’s knee-“I hope you take this the right way. But maybe for now, in just this instance, it’s not so much what you want. Or what you lack. What our Mark needs from you right now is time. For you to be the one to give.”
The temptation to deny was overwhelming. But Amanda saw the truth in Marianne’s words. She would lay down her pride, again. “Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you. Besides, it won’t be long now. Trust me… it’s closer than it seems.”
Hours later, after their fourth game of tournament two, Marianne paused midshuffle. “You know, Amanda…” She tucked a stray curl behind her daughter-in-law’s ear. A soft breeze rippled the folds of their striped umbrella. “Mandy. It’s been so nice being here with you. I’ve enjoyed the… companionship.”
Squinting in the sunset, Amanda didn’t know how to respond. She hadn’t considered what life in Lubbock might be like for her mother-in-law. That Marianne’s almost rabid devotion to Mark, to the self-imposed rigors of church circles, could be indicative of loneliness.
On impulse, Amanda grasped Marianne’s hand. “I’ve had fun too.” It was almost the truth.
I can do this, she thought. She had something to offer. Not to take away, but to give. Perhaps there was blessing through the pain. Like Missy in the van. Listening and caring. Her loss, her Grace, a gift to others.
She watched Marianne resume her shuffle. The cards rattled, flipped apart, splayed out and fell together again.
Fanning her cards, Amanda placed the queen next to the king. I can be patient for you, Mark, since you were patient for me. I’ll wait until you’re ready, even if it kills me.
Intensity wrinkled Marianne’s brow as she studied her hand. She stopped arranging for a moment. “Mandy, I’ve had the craziest notion. We’ve had quite a day.” She paused, biting her lip. “What do you say we get an… adult beverage?”
Amanda looked up in surprise. “Like a margarita or something?”
“Ooh, yes. That sounds like just the ticket.” The spirit of naughtiness flushed Marianne’s cheeks.
“Fine with me. In fact”-Amanda stood and gently popped Marianne with the tip of her towel, eliciting a giddy squeal-“I’m buying.”