Page 3 of The Grizzly Situation
“I don’t know,” she said. “I want to think it is, but then I worry about my job?—”
“Which is not your life. He is. Is he asking you to give up working?”
She shook her head. “He says he understands, but wants us to make this—us—our priority.”
“That’s as it should be. I did the joining for the two of you. Do you remember the vows you made to each other?”
“Yes.”
“Tell them to me now,” I demanded.
She drew in a breath, then blew it out slowly. As important as the words she was about to speak were, I gave her time to gather her thoughts.
“We pledge our love before our brethren. We will forge a bond so strong, that nothing can tear it asunder. We will join as one, becoming a force for our sleuth, an inspiration for future generations, and a hand for the past. We enter into this vow, our hearts and minds clear, and will not allow anything to break the chain we’ve forged.”
“And what does he say?”
“He told me he was sorry for his anger, behavior, and jealousy. He told me he’s seeing a therapist to learn better coping techniques. He says he wants to make this work.”
“Then take him at his word, just as he should with you. Keep in mind, though. This? It’s just a job.”
“But it’s the job I dreamed of doing long before I met Devon,” she told me. “I wanted to make a difference for the sleuth, and I knew this was the way I was meant to.”
I smiled at her. She was the most dedicated person I knew, but she needed to see the bigger picture. “No one says you can’t make a difference, but there’s a fine line between duty and obsession. Trust me, I know. I was the same way, but when my kids complained that they never saw me, and asked me if I still loved them, something had to change. I can’t look in their eyes and say that the sleuth is more important than they are, becauseit’s not even remotely true. When Jenna died, and I was left alone with the twins, I freaked out. I was sure there was no way I could do this. But the sleuth stepped up, and they offered to help me raise the boys. I was a wreck, and I admit I buried the grief in getting things done here. Until two sets of tear filled eyes asked if I loved them. I reevaluated my life on the spot, and I’ve tried to be home every night by six so I could sit with them, hear about their day, and then be there to read them a story as I tucked them in. They’re happier, I’m less stressed, and I think the sleuth feels that energy.
“Now, I’m not saying that’s how it is with you and Devon. That’s something only you can decide. Do you love him? And think before you answer.”
“I don’t have to think about it. I love him so much, but it hurts sometimes, because he never says it. I think that’s why I love my job, because I feel appreciated here.”
She’d told me stories, and I knew she was missing the point. “And does the job keep you warm at night? Does it make you a cup of cocoa when you’re at the computer, poring over files you need for the next day? Does it rub your feet when you come home stressed out? Does it cook dinner because you fell asleep on the couch the minute you got home? Does your heart flutter when you think about the job? Like I said, that’s something only you can decide.”
Her face scrunched up as she digested my words. After Jenna died, I would have given anything to get that time back. To tell her I loved her once more. Then I realized that I got that gift every time one of the beautiful boys we made hugged me. I won’t ever deny it was a struggle finding my footing, but when I actually did, I realized how worth it everything was.
“You’re right,” Cait finally admitted.
“I usually am,” I replied, which made her laugh.
“I guess I never thought of it that way. Devon’s forever doing things for me. He brought me flowers and chocolate one day, just because he was thinking about me, he said.”
“So he’s saying he loves you, just in deed and not word. Which is more important? We get so used to saying words, they sometimes can lose their meaning. But he’s showing he thinks about you, and that inspires him to do something to see you smile.”
She huffed out a breath. “I’ve been so stupid. I thought the only way to tell someone you loved them was to say the words. I never realized he’s been saying it every day.”
“Sometimes we just don’t understand the words,” I told her. “Communication is hard, especially when we’re not speaking the same language.” We sat on the couch that we had in the outer office and I took her hands in mine. “Listen, I went through something similar with Jenna. Me, big and stoic, had a hard time getting the words out, but I did my best to show her. Then, after she died, and the boys needed me to become their world, I realized I could show them all I wanted, but they needed to hear the words from me too. Jenna, she understood. My boys? No, they didn’t. Dad had to hug them and say he loved them so they’d feel comforted and safe. If that’s what you need, then talk to Devon. The two of you must be on the same page.”
“I love him, you know? I’m always telling him, but now I wonder if I can find better ways to show it too.”
“Why don’t the two of you get out of town for a while? Go somewhere remote, shift, and do a little frolicking in nature to center yourselves?”
“Oh, I have?—”
“Lots of vacation time you’ve never taken. Starting the moment I get into that car, why not consider yourself off for six weeks?”
“Six weeks? That’s too long. I couldn’t leave you?—”
“We’ll be fine,” I promised her. “Spend some time with Devon. Don’t make any decisions until you talk with each other, and promise me you’ll tell him what it is you’re looking for and listen when he tells you. Even if it would make things a hell of a lot easier, no one comes with an instruction manual, so we kind of have to let people know how we’re feeling.”
She frowned. “I’m not good at that. My parents were my role models, and Dad said the words to Mom all the time. Thinking back, though, he said it even when it wasn’t necessary.”
