Page 7 of The Summer Save

He grumbled as he sipped his whiskey and shook his head.

“That’s not all. We’ve been going to therapy, and I not only forgot about our standing appointment, I ignored the calls and texts because I was in a meeting.”

“Well, that explains why you’re the first in your family to arrive in Seaside. I knew something was going on because that has never happened.”

“So, I’m not done.”

His wide shoulders settled against the chair’s cushions. “For fuck’s sake. What else could you have done?”

“At the end-of-season dinner, Annie told us her plans to meet Mer in Ashland, but I wasn’t paying attention. I did the smile, nod, agree thing that I do when I’m tired and not focusing. I panicked when I couldn’t get ahold of her, and she wasn’t here when I got to town, even though she had left before me.”

Michael’s fingers scraped down his beard. “Mer and I aren’t married anymore, and I even knew neither of them would be reachable unless you called the hotel and only in an emergency. This is the first year neither of the girls will be with them for their Shakespeare Festival tradition.”

Well, if I didn’t already feel like total dog shit, I would have now. An ex-husband shouldn’t know more than someone who was married to the love of his life. “Well, now you know why I need help.”

“What are you going to do? No offense, but this isn’t something you can open your wallet and fix. Anne Marie has never cared about the money. She fell for you when she thought you were just a minor league hockey player earning extra money working at a summer camp. I’m pretty sure finding out about your silver spoon upbringing freaked her out, but by the time she knew, she was all in.”

I was well aware my wife couldn’t care less about the money. She made it clear the two of us were going to earn everything we had through hard work, even though I worked for my family’s company. Outside of agreeing to my parents’ request to pay for school for our children and provide a driver for each of them so they didn’t have to take public transportation, we had paid for everything with the money we earned working. Like me, our children each had a trust fund from my parents that was to be used to buy a home, pay for school, and set up a business venture. “I did do a small open-my-wallet gesture by clearing her wish list at the bookstore. Then I wrapped each one and put them on a brand new bookshelf today. I numbered them and put numbers on slips of paper in a jar. Each paper is folded like a book. She’ll grab a paper from the jar and that’s the book she reads. Other than that, my apology isn’t something with money.”

“Well, that’s a hell of a start for a bookworm. What’s the rest of the plan?”

“Recreating memories. She keeps a journal with all her Seaside memories. I want to recreate some of them. Specifically, the ones of the two of us over the years. Which is where you come in. I’m going to need things like picnic spots set up and art supplies magically at the beach. It’s a big ask. Are you up for it?”

“Just tell me what you need, where, and when. I’ll make it happen.” He took a sip of water. “Can I ask you a question about not retiring?”

“Ask me anything.”

“I’m assuming this means you and Anne Marie aren’t moving to Seaside, as you’ve always planned once you retired.”

“Right.”

“So, where are Amber and Wyatt going to live? She’s always planned to buy the house once you retire. Now that they’re married, I figure they’re going to want a bigger place than that apartment.”

My mind wandered back to the video call this afternoon when I mentioned my offer to use the family credit card wasn’t like I was offering a house. No wonder I felt daggers stabbing me through the phone from Annie. Until now, I’d forgotten about the agreement with Amber. When we retired and moved to Seaside, Amber was going to buy the house and move in. I’m sure she and Wyatt had been planning on that since Annie and I had started mentioning future retirement plans. Just when I didn’t think I could be a bigger asshole, I realized I hadn’t just messed up with Annie. I’d screwed up with Amber. I finished the last sip of whiskey. “So, my wife’s not the only one I need to apologize to. Let me save my marriage. Then I’ll figure out how to fix this with Amber and Wyatt.”

When we first spent summers together, Michael and I both worked at the hockey camp. I was one of the instructors. He worked in registration and was our site manager. Each summer, we had to set a goal. Apparently, my best friend was bringing back the tradition. “What’s your goal?”

“To save my marriage.”

“How long do you have to do it?”

“One summer.”

“How are you going to do it?”

“Work hard every day, not give up, and stay focused.”

He handed me a flat rock from the bowl where Annie leaves everything so it’s ready whenever inspiration strikes. “Instead of writing it on the breakroom wall, use this. You know the drill. Summarize your goal in five words or less.”

I picked up a teal paint marker from the mason jar next to the bowl. As I shook the marker, I thought about how to word the goal. As soon as I had it, I opened the marker and wrote ‘One Summer to Save Us.’ Then I decorated the rock with lilacs because they’re Annie’s favorite flower. As I painted the purple flowers, I nodded toward the bowl of rocks. “They’re for everyone. Maybe putting it into the universe would help with whatever you’re mulling over there.”

He took a rock and chose a few markers. “Couldn’t hurt.”

As I got closer to Seaside, I found myself stopping more and driving slower. The knot in the pit of my stomach tightened as soon as I saw the town’s welcome sign. Never once in all my years spending the summer here had I been this on edge. It wasn’t at all like the excited feeling I got the second summer Jonas and I spent together. The one where I could hardly sit still because it had been months since we’d seen each other. This wasn’t excitement at all. It was dread. I knew these weeks together would make us or break us. And everything we’d been through the last year told me we were heading toward divorce. It was so common for empty nesters to divorce around retirement age it had a name—the gray divorce.

That’s not how our story was supposed to end, though. We were supposed to make it to the stage of life where we sat on our porch and watched our grandchildren play in the yard. It wasn’t the constant travel or the hockey schedule. That had always been part of our lives. But somewhere along the way, we stopped communicating and drifted apart. From inseparable whenever we were both in town to barely speaking when in the same room. I’m not sure when we stopped making each other a priority. If therapy hadn’t fixed it, I wasn’t sure this summer ultimatum could, but I had to try. At least I would know I did everything I could to save our marriage, and I wouldn’t be stuck wondering if I could have done more or if I had tried hard enough.

I pulled into the driveway and parked next to Jonas’s car. After I removed the key from the ignition, I remained in my seat for a few minutes. I didn’t know what I was going to say to him when I saw him. Multiple emotions coursed through me. I couldn’t choose which to focus on, and the mixture felt overwhelming. I was hopeful that his arriving right away meant he wanted to put in the work this summer, but that didn’t erase my anger toward his behavior or make me forget he’d made a decision that greatly impacted our retirement plans and our daughter’s future home. The main thing I’d taken from our time in therapy was it was nearly impossible to fix multiple hurts at once, and I needed to focus my attention on the gushing wound first. Our marriage was hemorrhaging. That required our focus. We could table the house.

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