Page 99 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“Thanks, man. I’ll get the file.”

“Bring it with you,” Ant said.

“With him?” I asked.

“Pete’s here for the week. Sierra took the time off work. We’re heading up to the cabin. We thought you two might join us.”

Sierra… Time off work? She never told me.

“Wipe that look off your face, girlie,” Sierra said. “I finished a project early. Dad said to take a break because I’d need the rest to face the next one. With Pete showing up, and Blake’s arrival, we decided last night while you and the hubs were love-shacking it up, as you should when your man comes to town.” Don’t think I didn’t notice the look Pete shot Sierra when she said ‘the hubs.” I was so getting to the bottom of this.

“Glory, what do you say?” Blake asked.

“Given we’re currently apart more than we’re together, I’ll be wherever you are.”

“I guess that means we’re in.” The way he made the effort with my friends meant everything. He liked them. He wanted these friendships. Good God, I melted against him. His arms grew tighter and we swayed slower.

By the end of the night, me too tipsy to walk a straight line, my husband carried me inside the house and up to bed.

The next morning, he’d placed two ibuprofen and a latte by the bed. I wasn’t hung over, per se, but a twinge of a headachemessed with my good humor, so I popped the pills into my mouth and swallowed them with a swig of coffee. Then I went searching for Blake. I heard him downstairs talking on his phone.

When he saw me, he said, “Got to go,” then hung up. “Sweetheart, how are you?”

“Thank you for the coffee,” I replied, draping my arms around his waist as I pushed up on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“You’re welcome.” He brushed some hair behind my ear. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to get a big head.” He started laughing and for that, I grabbed his junk, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Now, now, wife… we have to pack. We’re going up north today.” Blake removed my hand.

“Did I interrupt?” I asked, pointing to the pocket where he’d shoved his phone after hanging up his call.

He shook his head. “Same shit, different day.”

“What if we can’t find out why I’m being set up?” I asked.

Blake frowned at me. “Not an option. We find out and counter.”

We find out and we counter.

I just wanted it to stop.

Chapter Twenty-Two

As an FYI for anyone who’d never been to Michigan—visit.You want pretty? We got pretty—especially up north. The McCains owned a small private island in Lake Huron that they vacationed on in the summers or schmoozed other rich people for other rich-people things. I’d been there before. Ant invited Pen, Sierra, and me up there several times when we’d been teens. Gretchen, the killjoy, had always gone with, but bitched about camping the entire time.

Camping?Please. They glamped. As in glamorous camped. The ginormous “cabin” housed forty people, including staff hired on strictly to work the cabin and its upkeep, which meant for most of the year, at least back then, the employees lived like royalty and got paid for it. Ant purchased the home from his parents, and downsized the staff, opting to contract out the landscaping. He and Pen loved to cook together, so no chef but definitely kept a housekeeper contracted to come in once a week from the mainland. His transportation, of course.

Now, my dad and Icamped. Every year, we’d drive up to Cut River in the UP, where we’d slept in his grandfather’s old WWII canvas army tent. Sleeping bags on the ground. Not even an air mattress. A campfire kept us warm at night, and the lakeor the shade of the trees to cool us during the day. OFF to keep the mosquitoes, horseflies and deer ticks from making the trip miserable. My mother refused to go. Kid Gloria loved camping. Adult Gloria’s idea of “roughing it” was a two-star hotel without a pool.

Happily, the weather cooperated today. Bright-yellow sunshine and blue skies complete with fluffy, white clouds. The one I was tracking reminded me of an elephant with a unicorn horn.

I pointed out our turn and Blake clicked on his blinker to take the exit.

After a couple of miles, the marina came into view. Even as a little girl, boats, marinas, and large bodies of water excited me down to my very soul. Excitement trilled over my skin and up my spine and I turned to say, I didn’t know what, to my husband, only to find him already looking at me thoughtfully.

“You love this,” he said.

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