A Sneak Peek of All the Things That Come Between Us

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapter 1- Rolling Out

“Who put their half-eaten sucker in here?” I slammed the silverware drawer shut and looked up to see three cherub faces with eyebrows raised.

The youngest was off the hook, since she could barely stand, much less reach that high. I haven’t fed her the crack we call sugar yet, but it may be overly hopeful to think her brothers hadn’t.

I looked at the other two. Both had their lips sealed shut, eyes wide. Syrup dripped from Tucker’s chin.

“Who did it?” I asked again.

They stared into each other’s eyes. One nodded while the other shook his head. If anyone doubted twin telepathy, they needed to spend a day in my house.

It was time to pull a King Solomon. Yanking the drawer back open, I grabbed the sucker to brandish it and threaten its demise. Would this work like those two moms in the Bible arguing over the baby? Would the true owner melt in sorrow while the other shrugged in nonchalance?

The white paper stick looked like it had spent a lot of time in a slobbery toddler’s mouth. Half of it was worn away and more red than white. I grabbed the sucker and thrust it into the air, “It’s going in the trash!”

Two forks clung to the lollipop, and the stick sagged sideways under the weight. My jaw clenched involuntarily. The plan was quickly going south. I couldn’t trash this candy with forks attached to it. Sure, we didn’t pay for them, but wedding guests spent a cool $30 each, for which I will forever be grateful.

Three sets of eyes stared. Gravity was apparently stronger than sugar, because one of the forks fell free, clanging to the sink. Anger swelled in my chest as I tried to breathe deep and stay calm. No matter how hard I try to keep the house clean and raise these kids right…

“That’s Tate. Tate sucky,” Tucker piped up, interrupting my thoughts. I turned to see Tate’s eyes doubled in size and his head shaking.

“No, Mommy!” his eyes filled with tears. Tucker’s were dry.

Krista screamed and chucked her leak-proof sippy cup. It landed on the table, missing my favorite salt and pepper shakers by two inches. “Krista!” I scolded.

I need Scott. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, rubbing my temples. Once the kids are at school, after book club, I can get out to the barn. Remembering I’d have a few minutes with my horse gave me the energy to keep moving forward.

“Mommy, OK?” Tate asked. His words were a balm. The sweet one, I thought, and then mentally slapped myself. They’re all sweet. They’re all wonderful. But Tate is definitely sweeter than the other two, my inner voice retorted. I looked at his big blue eyes. It was true.

I strode to the table and retrieved Krista’s cup. There was a small puddle of watered-down apple juice under it. Of course. I wish Scott was down here helping, I said to myself again before moving on with life. Because wishing and wanting didn’t fix things. I wiped the puddle and handed the cup back to its owner.

I’m a capable woman. If I can push two babies out in one night, I can certainly keep a house clean and raise three kids while Scott is only in the house long enough to sleep, occasionally eat, and pack bags for his next trip. I’ve always been capable and I still am capable. I’m practically a Proverbs 31 woman.

Except I’m not up before the sun unless a kid forces me to be. And neither my kids nor my husband have ever called me blessed. And I seem completely incapable of losing this baby weight that clings to my body with the determination of an angry toddler.

The sound of dry cereal clattering to the ground grabbed my attention, followed by the click-clack of Baxter’s claws on the hardwood floor. Who knew my favorite thing about our family dog would be his assistance with kid messes? While Bax hoovered the cheerios  scattered across the floor, I decided to wrap up this debacle.

“Y’all,” I took a second to look into each innocent face, “We don’t put candy in drawers.”

“But you haf candy there,” Tucker said matter-of-factly.

My face heated, and I clenched my teeth. “Well, that’s… It’s…” How did he know about that? This isn’t about me, I reminded myself. I took a risk and targeted the most likely culprit. “Tucker, did you put the sucker in the drawer?”

Panic passed over his little face before a look of calm took over. “Tate put booga on wall!”

“You said you woodint!” Tate melted into a wail.

“I didint tell abowt de udder,” Tucker put his fists on his hips.

“Boys! What other?”

Tate’s lips were drawn into a tight line, but his eyes were filled with moisture. Tucker pursed his mouth and crossed his arms. They glared at each other, Tate lurching with hiccups.

“Breakfast is over. Go to your room,” I said, shaking my head.

“But Kwista thwows food and scweams!” Tucker’s defiant voice filled the kitchen.

“Krista is 11 months old and not capable of putting a sucker in a drawer. Go to your room now.”

The boys climbed down from their chairs, disappearing up the stairs. Krista’s bottle hit the floor and she let loose a yell that would have made Tarzan proud, while I threw the fork tethered by candy into the sink to deal with later.

The day was already long and it had just started.

“Hey, Abs.” Scott rushed into the kitchen, a carry-on suitcase rolling behind him. He paused next to Krista and tickled under her chin. “Hey, my precious girl!” his voice was a bit higher when he talked to the baby. Her responsive giggle was spitty, but she looked at him like he hung the moon. He leaned down and picked up her cup, setting it on her tray before striding my way.

Tension radiated up the side of my face. My dentist is either going to love me for all the money he makes from my ground-down teeth, or hate me for all the work he’ll have to do. I think he’s sending his kids to private school, so my bet is on loving me.

“Hey, Scott!” I moved towards him, aiming for a quick kiss. He plowed across the kitchen, not even noticing my approach and nearly taking me out with the roller bag.

“What’s with the bag?” my heart rate kicked up a notch. “I thought you didn’t have to leave until tomorrow. We’ve got a family night tonight. Remember?” Blood ran towards my face and my neck started itching. I knew red splotches were appearing.

“Dave called and said they needed me a day early in Pennsylvania. New potential client. Tragic car accident.” His thumb scrolled on the screen of his phone while he talked and chugged a protein shake, and I wondered just how bad I looked if he preferred the light-up rectangle over his own wife.

“Sorry Abs, I know your hands are full with the kids. I promise I’ll keep ‘em for a night over the weekend so you can have a girls’ night with Lacy Lee. And we can do pizza and games next week.”

My breath was coming in short and rapid spurts as I tried to act normal.

When I didn’t answer right away, he glanced up. “That would be good, right?”

“Yeah.” I finally pushed out. “Great.” He had no idea how devastated the boys would be, and he’s leaving me to deal with it. I wanted to love this man and have warm parting words, but anger was boiling inside of me.

Scott stood by the door, ready to go. His shoulders were wide and his waist narrow. That body still made my heart race, even if I was filled with a ridiculous amount of shame when I stood next to him. Why couldn’t men carry the babies or at least gain baby weight? He walked over and pecked my cheek. “Love you, Abs.”

Krista screamed, followed by a long coo. Scott glanced over at our bundle of chaos. “Where are the boys?”

“I sent them to their rooms, they—”

His phone buzzed, snagging his attention. “Sorry Abs. Gotta go.” He leaned forward to give me another quick parting kiss that didn’t reach my face. “Give the boys a hug for me!”

His suitcase bumped over the threshold behind him, the Virginia luggage tag mocking me as the door slammed. I thought the tag would remind him to come home more, but apparently he felt like he was taking us with him when he had the shape of our state dangling from his bag. The house was silent for an empty moment before Krista’s little pounding fists filled it back up.

First, a stop at the drawer. I dug in the back, past the sticky forks, behind the silverware tray, until my fingers landed on the heart-shaped foil-covered piece of goodness. My racing pulse settled for a second as I peeled the wrapper off, closed my eyes, and took a bite. The milk chocolate melted over my tongue, and I paused to savor it. Ignoring Krista’s demands, I pulled out my phone to check in with social media. Sometimes, this was my only way to interact with adults.

My thumb paused its scroll on a photo of a picture-perfect family—two parents and two kids, all with white shirts and khaki pants posing on the beach. The two-year-old wasn’t eating sand and the older kid who appeared to be four or so was holding onto his sibling like he loved her more than life itself. My stomach turned. Why did my kids never behave like this?

A text came through as I was envisioning the outfits I’d have my family wear for a beach shoot. The name Bri was at the front of the message. The only Bri I could think of was the sister of my ex-fiancé, and I hadn’t heard from her in years. Why would she be texting me? I clicked on the notification, and her words were all in caps:

Bri: HAVE YOU SEEN?

There was a screenshot of an Instagram post. The chocolate nearly dropped from my mouth. My ex-fiancé’s face smiled at me. A gorgeous blonde with even lighter highlights clung to his arm. She wore a lace wedding dress that reminded me of a Hollywood fairytale. I had to make the picture bigger to read the tiny words under the photo. “God bless the broken road that led me straight to you.”

It took every effort not to throw my phone and scream. Instead, my fingers were flying as I shot out a response.

Abby: FOR REAL?!

Bri: YES.

Bri: And the caption. He’s got some nerve, considering the “broken road” was all his fault.

Bri may be his sister by blood, but when I found out he’d been cheating on me in the middle of planning our wedding, she was always on my team.

Abby: Yeah. Super broken road covered in shards of other women’s hearts.

My chest burned at seeing their happiness. I hoped for the blushing bride’s sake that he’d changed his ways, but it was hard to believe.

The memory sent a cold chill through my body. The happy text I’d sent him about wedding venues—should we do a church or a farm? And the text he’d sent back—Hey babe! Last night was amazing. My mind stumbled through the events of the previous evening—ramen noodles on the couch with Lacy Lee followed by studying until I couldn’t keep my eyes open for a huge accounting test.

Oh yeah. Incredible. Lol, I typed back, but before I hit send, his next text came through.

Next time let’s try it in the back of my truck 😉

Standing in my kitchen, with chocolate melting in my mouth, my fingers started to tingle. It was the same panic reaction from that night when my entire perfect world I had meticulously built crumbled around me. I squeezed my phone, determined not to spiral into that pit of darkness again.

I tucked my phone into my pocket. I am happily married, I told myself. That was in the past. Good for them and their new smooth road.

“I dodged that bullet!” I said to Krista as I unbuckled her from the highchair to go up and check on the boys. But even as I said it, the events from the morning played through my mind: Scott leaving a day early. Scott’s kiss not even reaching my face. Scott staring at his phone instead of me, his wife, the mother of his kids. A part of me knew it was just a ghost from my past coming back to scare me, but I couldn’t help but wonder why Scott was really leaving a day early and who was on the other end of his glowing screen.

 

Chapter 2 – Bible Study

“Come on!” I whisper-yelled at the carpool moms ahead of me, trying to set a decent example for the kids but also, how long does it take for your kid to get out of the car? School had been back in session for two weeks. These kids should know how to get out of a car by now. I needed to get to Bible study and this slow line was going to make me late. Being late was bad, but being late on the first meetup since summer break was inexcusable.

Bam! Something smacked against the glass in the back of the car. “What was that?” I demanded from the boys.

“Kwista thwew sumfin’,” they said in unison just before a happy squeal erupted from the rear-facing car seat. Looks like she’ll be a better softball player than I ever was.

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel, willing these dawdling kids in front of us to hurry up already. Didn’t they want to get away from their parents and go do whatever preschoolers did in class? Don’t we call them threenagers for a reason? What’s Scott doing right now? Why am I worrying about this?

“Boys, when it’s your turn I want you to be ready. Are you ready?”

“Yeah!” they exclaimed.

“Like a pit crew in a car race? Can you be faster than any other kids?”

“Yeah!” they cheered again.

“And do you have your lunchboxes and backpacks ready to go?”

“Yeah!” Tate yelled before Tucker’s wail cut through the joy.

“I fugot my wunch!”

Oh. My. Breathe. I cannot be late for Bible study. Or book club. Whatever it is, my church group of women who get together to study Christian books.

“It’s ok! Tate, will you share with your brother?” I tried to soothe little Tucker.

“No!” Tucker cried. “No no no no no!”

Krista’s voice piped up as she hummed along, trying to copy her brother. Sure. Copy the negative.

“Tucker, Mommy doesn’t have time to turn around. You’ll be late and miss the welcome circle.”

“I share, Mommy!” My heart warmed at Tate’s kindness, as Tucker answered with another, “Noooo!”

A click sounded from the side of the van and the door slid open. Sunlight streamed in and one of the teachers smiled so big rays of sunshine reflected off her perfect white teeth. “Ok boys, are you ready for school?” she asked.

“No no no!” Tucker shrieked.

Tate was climbing down from his seat and I threw up a quick prayer of gratitude that my kids could finally unbuckle themselves.

“Tucker, I’ll bring your lunch later. You’ve got to go.” I felt every ounce of anger from the moms behind me now that my vehicle was the weakest link.

“You pwomise?” he asked. I calculated in my brain. If I left Bible study book club as soon as it ended and brought a muffin from the coffee shop for his lunch, I’d still have time for a quick barn trip.

“Yes, bud. You go with your brother and have a great day. I’ll bring you food before lunch bunch starts.”

“Ok, Mom! Wuv you.” And he was out the door. My foot hit the accelerator before the van door clicked closed and I swear Krista squealed with glee. That one would be a handful when she figured out how to walk, and even worse, ride anything that had speed. God help us.

Krista and I pulled into the Java Lava parking lot at 9:16. One minute late already, and I hadn’t even ordered my coffee. I threw the van into park and leaped from the vehicle, scanning the parking lot for Lacy Lee’s car. Not here. Am I really surprised? No.

She’ll probably show up at the pearly gates and God will be checking His watch, I laughed to myself. And then she’ll smile and say “What? I got distracted!” Or “I had to help Abby with the kids!” or something. God would smile because no one can be mad at Lacy Lee. Plus, isn’t that the whole thing? God loves us and will be thrilled when we get there?

I stuck my book, The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love That Lasts, into the bag slung across my shoulder, and reached in to lift the car seat out of its holder. The way a 13-pound baby and a 2-pound car seat defied physics to become a 40-pound lump of dead weight was beyond me. And to make it even worse, my arms were as flabby as ever.

Shouldn’t moms of babies have bulging arm muscles from all the lifting and toting? It was as unfair as my husband’s drool-worthy body while mine had rolls and dimples and strange translucent marks in places he used to run his hands over. I shivered at the memory of his fingers grazing up my thighs and around my formerly toned abs.

Then I remembered how he left early today with the lamest explanation ever. I imagined him lounging in a hotel room with his tie loosened and a suit jacket thrown over the chair. An action movie with explosions, good vs evil, and a damsel in distress playing on his TV instead of the cartoons I’d seen every episode of seven times. He wakes up from an accidental nap as the credits are rolling and heads down to happy hour at the hotel bar, sitting with work buddies or a client. And then my mind conjured a beautiful blonde with glowing skin, leaning into him and giggling, reaching out and touching his arm.

I could see his gentle smile and his cheeks turning pink at the attention. He has a bourbon and she has something pink with a piece of fruit on the edge, and as she knocks back the last sip, she stands and grabs his hand to pull him away from a public setting. They step into the elevator alone, and as the doors close a hundred elevator scenes from those scmexy doctor shows compete for attention.

“Stop it,” I told myself under my breath. I had to stop the spiral. Just because that one jerkface from college proposed and then cheated on me did not mean I attracted cheaters. Scott would never cheat on me.

Krista looked up from her carrier and blew the loudest, wettest raspberry. The mist of her slobber landed on my bare arms, and I had to resist the urge to drop her and grab the hand sanitizer. But when I glanced down at her to scold, she smiled. It was kind of hard to be mad, even if my arms felt like I’d been through a spit sprinkler.

“Abs!” the unmistakable loud and cheerful voice of my best friend called from behind me. “Hey Abby, wait! I’ll get the door for you!”

She nearly crashed into us, crushing me and the car seat with her embrace. “Oh my gosh I can’t believe we got here at the same time!” she said with a wicked grin. “Rough morning, I guess?”

“You have no idea,” I mumbled. Lacy grabbed the door handle and tugged. The door didn’t budge, and we shared a mutual eye roll at the notoriously sticky door. Lacy yanked and when it came unstuck it nearly smashed her in the face. She yelped as she jumped to the side, and a laugh spilled out of me.

I lugged Krista and the diaper bag across the threshold onto the cappuccino colored tile floor of Java Lava. It was the perfect color for a coffee shop that didn’t value cleanliness as much as it valued charging top dollar for locally roasted beans and the fanciest espresso machine in town.

“Hi, Abby! Hi, Lacy Lee! Oh, look how big baby Krista has gotten!”

“Hi Steph!” I managed a smile to my favorite barista. “I thought you were leaving this place to start college in the fall!” The eleven that formed between her eyebrows confirmed it wasn’t exactly a happy topic, but in the way of our favorite barista, she kept a smile pasted on her face.

“I decided to wait until winter semester to go back. I couldn’t miss my favorite Tuesday morning group, could I?”

“Oh well, don’t hold back your future for us.” I smiled.

“But if I left, I wouldn’t get to see baby Krista grow up!” Her voice slowly morphed into baby talk. Krista let out a string of sounds that sounded like she was speaking in another language. “Do y’all want the usual?” Steph started typing into the iPad before I even confirmed.

“Sure. And add a cranberry muffin. Tucker forgot his lunch today.” I glanced at Lacy Lee. It was more an explanation for her than Steph since Steph didn’t know my preschool kids. “Oh, and I’ll cover Lacy Lee’s today. She got mine last time.”

“That was weeks ago!” Lacy objected.

“I don’t care. It’s my turn!” And I handed Steph my card.

“Is that baby Krista?” the singsong voice of Gabriella, a high school girl whose mom was in the group, broke in. “Krista, you got so big!”

I smiled at the homeschooled teenager who was my saving grace for these meetups. “Oh, good, I’m so glad you’re here. She has a bottle in the bag and lots of snacks. The girl loves to eat. And there’s spare…”

“Diapers in the side pocket and an outfit in the car. I’ve got it, Mrs. Abby! Don’t you worry! Is it ok if I take her for a walk outside if she gets fussy?”

Gabriella took Krista and the bag from me and a million pounds were lifted from my shoulders. “Yes of course. Here’s my keys. The stroller is in the back of my van.” I smiled, giddy with this moment of freedom.

I turned to finish paying for the coffee. The machine pre-calculated the tip offering 3 options, and I nearly sighed in disappointment. I miss doing the calculation in my head. I clicked the 25% button, grabbed my coffee, and headed for the mass of Bible study ladies in the corner.

We were an odd crew, but I’d grown to love these ladies. Names were always a struggle, even with people I’d known forever, so I made alliterations to help me remember.

Commanding Cathy started us off. Ok, I didn’t say they were positive. Control can be good though, like when you’re leading a group of women who tend to talk off topic. “Welcome back everyone!”

We all smiled and nodded. Lacy Lee raised her latte in the air, “Cheers!” Drinks sloshed left and right and women grabbed for their books to keep them clean, laughing in the process. Only a few splashes of coffee hit the floor, but it matched the tile so it was ok. Ish.

I ran to grab some napkins while Cathy reeled us back in. “For today’s icebreaker, instead of sharing what we did over the summer, let’s talk about our favorite meal we had.”

Dodged a bullet with that one. Our vacation was four days at the beach, and Scott spent every one of them on his laptop. I took two toddlers and a baby to the ocean by myself. The boys weren’t allowed in past their knees because I couldn’t leave Krista, and still, little Tate got walloped by a wave. I had to abandon Krista—who knows how much sand she ate—to scoop up Tate all while Tucker yelled, “SUPERFROG!” and jumped every tiny wave, splashing Tate and me in the face.

Even when they were safely and happily making sand castles, I kept working on a game plan for saving them if a sand sinkhole suddenly swallowed my babies. I never came up with anything, but thankfully it was a nonissue. Vacation was stressful.

Please, let’s talk about food.

“Lacy Lee, why don’t you get us started?”

Lacy beamed. She loved to try new things. The complete opposite of me.

“Well, I flew to Vegas with the hubby and we had the most incredible food! At the Guy Fieri restaurant there were bucket nachos. Like literally, they serve it in a bucket, and when they lift the bucket up from the table the cheese spillllsssss!”

My stomach started hurting from listening to Lacy talk. I clung to my simple latte.

“Oh, and there was a burger topped with mac and cheese!”

I marveled at Lacy’s slim figure. If I even looked at something like that, I’d gain five pounds.

“Wow, Lacy Lee, that sounds amazing! Ok, thank you, who wants to go next?” Cathy tried to lead the group, but once Lacy Lee got going, she was a runaway freight train.

“Oh my gosh, and there was a cake vending machine!” she gushed, and I was all ears.

“No way! Was it fresh or like Little Debbie cakes?” Gassy Gabby piped in. She’s not actually gassy, but the first time we met, the toddler on her lap let one loose. I was convinced it was Gabby until the kid excused himself.

“Did they have a bunch of flavors?” Peppy Priya asked, her cheeks glowing. This girl was always in a good mood, and her skin always looked like she’d been slathered in oil, laid in the sun for a few hours, and then spritzed her face with dew. It reminded me of the models from those free underwear pamphlets that come in the mail.

Sara sat there smiling in her own little world. That’s how she became Silent Sara.

“I’ve seen those before. Steve went crazy and we got one of each flavor.” That was Winning Wendy. She always had to win. Whether it’s the hardest day, the best muffins, the fastest to read the chapter, it’s like she’s turned everything into a competition and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even realize it.

Lacy Lee smiled, took a sip of her latte, and spent five minutes describing how the vending machine was full of fresh baked cakes. She got red velvet and her husband got chocolate, and all I could do was dream of a perfectly baked white cake with vanilla frosting. Not the fondant crap, but that soft, fresh whipped frosting that’s so light I could eat it with a spoon, or put a dollop in my coffee. Not that I’d ever actually do either but a girl can dream.

“Ok, who’s next?” Cathy tried to get us back on track. The rest of us were boring compared to Lacy. I talked about the ice cream I had at the beach with the kids. Somehow, ice cream tasted better at a hole-in-the-wall local joint where you can hear the crashing waves. Plus, the boys were in swimsuits so we rinsed the sticky off in the ocean.

Ready to get to the heart of our meeting, I made a show of grabbing my book from the bag on my chair and placing it on the table. Then I set my notebook and pens next to it all lined up.

“Are those color-coded sticky notes?” Gabby asked. My face flushed over the pleasure of being noticed.

“Yeah! I like to take notes when I read.”

“Wow, I barely got my chapters read before I came in the coffee shop,” she admitted.

“Same!” said Priya.

“I read the whole thing over the summer and now I’m going back and reading a chapter at a time.” Winning Wendy wins again.

Sara smiled and pulled out a slightly worn book with a couple of sticky notes peeking from the pages and a bookmark with a pink owl dangling from it.

Lacy Lee grinned at me, and then she plopped her book on the table. It looked brand spanking new. I’m not sure she even opened it yet. I almost snorted. It was so hard to hold back my laughter. Sara smiled too, joining our inside joke.

Cathy took a deep breath, preparing to corral us before she lost control again. “Ok, ladies! I have a leader’s guide for the book, but I came up with some of my own questions. Plus, I’d love to hear what y’all think of our book so far. You should have read the first two chapters of The 5 Love Languages.”

I glanced around the table. Lacy Lee was taking a swig of her drink and Sara waited with what looked like a smirk on her face. What on earth is that about? Gassy Gabby was smiling, but was that sweat on her hairline? Winning Wendy looked a bit angry. As my eyes landed on Priya, she started to talk.

“Oh my gosh, I’m totally intrigued! I mean, I always wondered how some people could be married three times like that guy he talked about in the book.” She made a face that looked like the teeth showing emoji. “I mean, way to go for believing love might happen again, but…”

“For real! People need to learn to stick it out. That’s the problem with the world. No one knows how to do hard things anymore.” Winning Wendy cut Priya off. She always seemed so judgy. I mean, on the one hand I agree, but what if it’s really bad? What if the spouse is abusive or cheating? Really, I always swore I’d never marry a cheater, and if somehow, I did, I’m out.

At this observation, my heart picked up. What would I do if Scott was cheating? It seems absolutely ridiculous for work to call him out a day early on such short notice. What if there’s more to it? My face was getting hot when something slammed into my leg. My head jerked up to see Lacy Lee staring at me with wide eyes, pointing to her phone.

Mine was next to me, screen down so I wouldn’t be distracted. Flipping it over, there were two text notifications.

Scott: Sorry again to cut out early. Why don’t you order takeout for dinner? Love, S

Was that a text from a husband who feels guilty leaving his wife with three small kids again, or a husband who feels guilty because he’ll spend the evening with another woman?

My phone buzzed and a text notification from Lacy appeared at the top of the screen. I clicked over to see what she was saying.

Lacy Lee: Why is your face turning red?

Lacy Lee: Are you ok?

Lacy Lee: ???

Pinpricks in my eyes told me if I didn’t do something quickly, I’d be the center of a lot of unwanted attention. I wasn’t ready to talk about any of this. It probably wasn’t even real. It’s probably my mind going crazy.

“Hey ladies,” the warm voice of Gabby interrupted my mini meltdown, “I’m so sorry, but my coffee went straight through me. I’ve got to run to the bathroom.” She smiled sheepishly and as she turned in her seat to go, her elbow grazed the cup of water she had sitting there. It tilted for a second as if deciding whether or not to cause a ruckus, before making a decision and toppling onto its side. Water spread across the table, soaking into everything in its path.

Cathy snagged her book a moment before the water reached it. Gabby’s appeared to be targeted as if the liquid had some vendetta against The 5 Love Languages. The book was instantly sitting in a puddle, absorbing at least half of the spill. Gabby lifted it and water dripped from the pages like it had just taken a dip in the ocean.

“Oh gosh!” she squeaked in horror. “It’s ruined! I’m so sorry! Did I mess up y’all’s books, too?”

Lacy Lee grabbed Gabby’s book and all but shoved her to the bathroom. “Don’t worry! It’s fine! Accidents happen! Go take care of business and we’ll get it cleaned up!”

“Are you sure?”

It looked like pee might come out of her eyeballs if she didn’t hurry.

“Go!” Commanding Cathy demanded.

Gabby rushed off, just as my favorite barista, Stephanie, showed up with a brilliant smile and a stack of paper towels. Hands reached in from all directions, grabbing the towels and helping to mop up the mess. It was unfortunate more water didn’t land on the floor. I struggled to trust the cleanliness of a beige floor in a coffee shop.

“Ok, ladies! Now that the spill is cleaned up, let’s get back on track,” Cathy said.

Gabby returned, trying to pull the chair away from the table without making noise, but it screeched, drawing the attention of the entire coffee shop.

“Welcome back, Gabby!” Cathy nodded towards her and then kept going. “Ok, I wanted to see what y’all’s answers are to the question at the end of chapter one. It said, fill in the blank: There would be fewer divorces if only people would…”

I prepared for a pregnant pause when Lacy Lee slammed her cup onto the table and declared, “Date night! Everyone needs to do regular dates. I don’t care if it’s morning or afternoon or night or at 2 am,” her eyes snagged on mine, and I looked away.

Gabby piped up, “Yes, I agree with Lacy Lee. Although, I will say it’s hard when your kids are young. Gabriella is old enough to babysit now, but for many years a date for us looked like ice cream on the porch and hoping none of the kids got out of bed.”

That’s a really good point. Scott and I could at least do that when he was home.

Gabby kept talking, “There would be fewer divorces if the husband and wife, even the kids, share the work. It takes a lot to maintain a home, and it definitely shouldn’t fall on one person. Although if it needs to, maybe you just have a messy house. No one died from a slightly messy house.”

“I knew this girl who said mice chewed her foot when she was a baby because her house was so messy. She has scars!” Priya looked horrified as she spoke.

Lacy lurched forward like she was dry-heaving and I rolled my eyes, while all the other women said a combination of “aw” and “ew”!

“You know what I mean.” Gabby’s tone was almost like she was scolding a kid.

“What else would make for fewer divorces?” Cathy asked.

It was smiling Sara’s serene voice that came next, “People need to realize when they get married that this is a covenant before God.”

“Yes! Hear hear!” Lacy Lee slung her coffee forward like she was doing a cheer. Only Sara tapped her cup with her. “So many people think it’s basically a contract and they can break it when they’re tired of dealing with it. But we stand before God and make this commitment to each other and to Him.”

“It’s the 3 C’s,” Wendy piped up, and I marveled that it took her so long to share her opinion. “Commit, communicate, and cherish. If everyone did this, there would be zero divorces. People just need to suck it up and commit.”

Stephanie was wiping tables nearby and I wondered if she was listening in on our conversation.

“But what if there’s abuse?” Sara prodded. “If there’s abuse, it needs to end.”

Wendy sat up straighter. “Yeah, but if they both cherish each other, there won’t be abuse.”

“Have you seen those Hannibal Lecter movies? I’m pretty sure he eats the people he cherishes.”

I had to shake my head to keep from laughing at Lacy Lee’s response.

“Separate bank accounts is the key,” Priya interjected. “So many couples disagree about money, so if the wife has a separate bank account, she can do what she wants without Big Brother watching over her shoulder.”

“But then you’re not communicating well.” Wendy was starting to sound angry. “That leads to secrets.”

“Yeah, well, my husband doesn’t need to know every tiny detail about my life. We trust each other. I don’t need to know if he ate out for breakfast and how much it cost. Honestly, it probably saves so many fights. I swear, he loves shoes more than I do. If I knew how much he spent on that newest pair of Italian leather dress shoes, I’m sure I would have lost my mind on him. But it was his money. He does what he wants with it. Same with my purses. I have expensive taste!” She held up her bag. The leather was buttery soft and I fought the urge to reach out and touch it.

“But what about stay-at-home moms with no income?” I asked. I liked this idea, but what would go in my bank account? Not that Scott ever complained about me spending money, but there’s always the niggling of guilt.

“Some husbands give their wives an allowance,” Cathy said.

“Why does the idea of a husband giving me an allowance annoy me so much?” Lacy Lee asked. “I mean, it should be like, ‘Yay, free money’! But I guess it feels like the wife is demoted to kid status or something.”

“It’s the wording. You’ve got to think of it differently,” Sara offered.

“I’d just like to find a way to make my own money,” I said, my mind already spinning with how on earth I could work while taking care of three kids. It’s not that I wanted to slave away in an office or be apart from the kids five days a week, but a little more adult time would be nice. “I just… sometimes it seems like I’m constantly taking from the family. Every time I spend money, it’s like I’m taking instead of contributing.”

Cathy leveled me with her stare. “Abby, you stay home with three kids under four years old. If you were a daycare provider, you’d be making about $5k a month for three kids.”

“Scotty boy better pony up!” Lacy Lee nearly shouted and sporadic laughs erupted around the table. Gabby, who had several kids and homeschooled most of them, just smiled and shook her head.

“People just don’t get that sometimes you have to agree to disagree. What do you think, Abby?” Cathy put me on the spot.

I pulled my hair behind my ear and opened and closed my book, searching for answers. If I had the answer, my marriage would be happy. Scott wouldn’t rush off all the time, and when he was with us, he’d actually be with us. I’d want to go on date nights with him so we could hang out. The truth is, while I’d love help around the house and with the kids, a date night sounded like torture—the two of us alone together? What would we even talk about? Which maybe was my problem and solution.

“Communication.” I nearly stuttered as I said it. My cheeks were hot with shame. Scott and I barely talked these days.

Heads around the table nodded in agreement and I happened to catch Stephanie’s eye as she stood up from wiping down a table. She gave me a weak smile and headed to help a customer.