Indian Summer Novel – Maura Ingram closed her eyes and counted to three. Not nearly enough time to forget, to get away from the scene around her. From her life. In the three seconds of darkness she should have at least counted one Mississippi, two Mississippi she could still feel Makayla tapping her repeatedly on the arm and see the dinner mess still on the table and Zachary, one finger on a comic book and his eyes looking up at Wes as he tried desperately to get his attention and make him listen to him. And Wes, with that goddamned far away look in his eyes. The one he’d slipped on for the first time about twenty minutes after they’d met. She supposed in the twelve years they’d been together—ten of them as husband and wife she should be used to it by now.
She’d accepted it early on; her husband was a daydreamer or something. Maybe he was a creative soul and one day, he’d write the great American novel or switch careers from crunching numbers in the financial aid office at the local university to marketing, where he could spend his days writing goofy jingles for chewing gum or household cleaners. Always off in his own little world, he was happy, but from a distance, like he’d removed himself from their every day lives. Until Indian summer. Wes’ happiness always cycled out by Indian summer, and for the ten years of their marriage, Maura had done her best to sweep in then and rescue him.
Chase the blues, the melancholy from his face. She’d babied him with k-sses and hugs and small gifts, and she’d busied him with home improvement projects and new adventures for the kids, until last year, maybe, when it dawned on her or when she’d let the realization in and let it grow inside her like a cancer, Wes was in love with someone else. Maybe Wes was in love with the woman before her, and Maura couldn’t fight that. She couldn’t fight a ghost. She had no idea who the woman might be even though they’d done all of that. Talked about past loves and past flings back when they’d met and started dating. They’d been in their mid-twenties by then, and neither of them was innocent or virginal.
They hadn’t gone into detail about exes, but they’d both been in relationships before they met. Since Maura had let herself consider it, consider Wes’s happiness and the way it came to an abrupt end every autumn, she’d wondered if the other woman was someone from before they were married or if he’d fallen for someone else while he wore the wedding band she’d put on his finger ten years ago. She couldn’t say for sure, but she’d decided Wes had been in love with someone else the day they’d met, and she’d been too naïve or too blind or too something to see it. She reminded herself of that when she felt that anger, resentment boiling up inside her. Like now. “Mommy, please?” Thankfully, Makayla finally stopped tapping at her arm.
Maura had felt like her daughter was a bird, relentlessly pecking at her for food. Now Makayla nestled up against her and wound her left arm around Maura’s waist. “Can I?” Wes was looking at her when she opened her eyes. She swallowed hard. Not just looking at her. Watching her. He’d been watching her stand there and drift in her worry, and Maura looked away now, feeling exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t want to be vulnerable right now. She didn’t want to be here. At all. She was stuck here, though, with two beautiful children whose faces were shaped like her husband’s and whose hearts were easily broken, like her husband’s, and she didn’t want to snap at them because it wasn’t their fault that Wes didn’t love her anymore. “Yes.” She nodded. Looked down at Makayla who now wore a sweet smile. Maura dropped her arm behind her daughter and rubbed her back for a moment.
“Please go do your homework, okay?” She’d agreed to let Makayla go to a sleepover on the weekend, only the second she’d been invited to. They’d been gone the night of the first one, a weekend trip to the zoo. She blinked back the tears as Makayla skipped out of the room. Avoided Wes’ eyes and turned her back to the table. Zachary noticed that Wes had moved, and though he’d simply turned his head to look at Maura, Zachary took that as fair game to start again trying to get his father’s attention. Shoulders huddled against the feel of Wes’ heavy stare, she filled the sink with hot, soapy water. Felt the tension drain from her body when Wes’s low-timbered voice filled the room as he talked to their son. She heard without listening as they read part of the comic book. Heard the TV on suddenly in the other room and figured Makayla had finished her homework.
Neither of her children turned the TV on before finishing their assignments. She’d established that rule and adhered to it from day one when Makayla had come home from kindergarten with a paper with a big letter A on it, and she’d had to draw something that started with an A. Her own emotions, those d-mned tears stuffed back down inside, Maura moved back to the table and stacked the empty plates. Spaghetti night was always a hit with the kids, but she didn’t know what Wes thought of it. He always ate plenty, but at the moment, she was ready to second-guess her own name. She didn’t know who she was, if not Wes Ingram’s wife. If he didn’t love her anymore. She felt his eyes on her as she turned and carried the dishes back to the sink. Rather than use the dishwasher, she washed each item by hand. Took more time. The last thing she wanted to do right now was finish too quickly and find herself with nothing to do but stand and watch her husband play out memories of another love inside his head.
They didn’t fight much. Both of them occasionally raised their voices, and now and then, one of those days could linger and become a full night or even two of arguing, but mostly, they got along well. Maura’s hands slowed now as she considered that maybe they didn’t argue much because they lacked passion. There had been times when they were younger when Wes could have made l-ve to her two or three times a night, but those days were long gone. In fact, there were nights now when she wanted to be with him, and he repeatedly chose to do other things rather than come to bed with her. Sometimes when he did come to bed, he couldn’t get hard enough to fill her. She wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he was too young to deal with that.
The he-l of it was, it didn’t seem to bother him. Then again, if he did have a woman on the side, maybe it didn’t matter to him if he couldn’t make l-ve to her. “What’re you thinking?” he asked quietly. Maura looked at him now, noticed he was slumped toward her a bit, leaning into her. She thought about that for a moment, all the ways he leaned on her. For friendship, mostly. How different would life be if she hadn’t married him? If she’d found someone else? Would she have someone who loved her more than life? Or would she have ended up with someone who didn’t even treat her with respect? “Maurie?” She met his gaze when she heard the note of worry in his voice. “Hmm?” “What’s wrong?” She stared at him a moment longer and finally shook her head. Wouldn’t do to get into it now. Especially not with the kids just in the other room.
Maybe not ever, because if Wes was loving someone else in his mind, tipping the boat and telling him she knew what was going on might send him packing. She loved him too much to let go just yet. She wanted to fight for him. But how could she fight for a love that had never been hers to begin with? She couldn’t turn it up for him, whatever it was he needed more of, if he wanted it from another woman. She did more than her part in the house, and she loved spending time with their kids. She loved the time they had alone together, too, but if he didn’t, if he was bored with her, she couldn’t turn that up a notch or two and make it so hot in the bedroom he wouldn’t have the time or desire to think about anyone else. In fact, at the moment, she couldn’t imagine lying with him now, if there was someone else in his heart while he was touching her.
She shook her head, but she couldn’t stand here any longer. She couldn’t stand here next to Wes and feel his eyes on her and have him asking her what was wrong. She didn’t give a d-mn if the dishes were done at the moment. In fact, she wanted to pitch one at the wall behind her right now and watch it shatter and fall to the floor. “Maura.” This time, he sounded concerned and while maybe he was, when Maura looked at him, she could only see him with that far away look in his eyes. She pulled her hands from the dishwater and reached for the towel in his hands. “What’re you doing?” “I’m gonna.” She swallowed hard and moved her eyes over his quickly. “I’m gonna go take a walk.”