The Summer of Good Intentions by Wendy Francis Page B

at that moment. How she wanted to! But she knew it wouldn’t solve anything. It would only make things worse. So, instead, she popped two Xanax and sank into a deep sleep, one that she didn’t wake up from until later in the afternoon.
    Not until after dinner did Tim apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, sneaking up behind her when she was reading a novel on the couch. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just thinking practically. You know, the economics of it all.”
    â€œMm-hmm,” said Jess, unconvinced.
    â€œLet’s not let it ruin our vacation, okay?” He sat down beside her and took her hand, his fingers lacing between hers. Had he sensed, like she had yesterday during their walk, that they both still wanted this marriage to work?
    â€œDon’t worry. I don’t intend to let it ruin my vacation,” she huffed. She took in his small eyes behind the glasses. Squinty eyes, she thought. Somehow they made her even angrier.
    â€œJessie,” he said softly. “Come on. I was stupid to say anything, but don’t make it worse than it was.”
    â€œBelittling my entire career is pretty low, Tim. It’s like . . .” Her voice trailed off while she searched for the right word. But there was no single word. “You don’t value me beyond what I do for the kids.”
    â€œThat’s not true,” he argued. He cast around the room nervously, as if making sure none of the kids was in earshot.
    â€œWell, that’s how it sounded. I mean if we’re talking about the economics of it all,” she snapped. “It kind of negates all that intangible stuff, right? Like helping kids who otherwise wouldn’t have a chance of going to college?” She knew she was entering dangerous territory, where their ideologies on larger issues sometimes clashed. But if it was truly how he felt, she needed to know.
    â€œJessie, you know that’s not what I meant,” he ventured again. “What you do is amazing. It helps a lot of kids. It’s just that I see how stressed out you get. And when it starts to affect our own family life, I guess that’s when I start to wonder if all that stress is worth it.”
    When he put it that way, it sounded marginally better. She decided not to point out how the long hours he logged at his office “affected their family life” as well. It was true that her job was stressful for nine months of the year. But it was the adrenaline rush that she craved; it made her feel important, needed. How could she make him understand that?
    Now, with the passing of a few more hours, she could see how her reaction might be construed as a bit much. After all, here she’d been craving honesty and open conversation with her husband over the last year. At least they weren’t trading Post-it notes. But if the dam had splintered, well, there was a lot of emotional wreckage waiting behind it. Tim’s words smarted.
    She hung the bath towel over the rack and flipped off the bathroom light. Quietly, she tiptoed down the hallway that was lined with pictures from summers past, many of them shots of the family posing on the dock. Everyone was getting so big! Even Teddy’s face had shed the fat baby cheeks she’d loved to kiss a hundred times. She traced her finger across those cheeks. Where had the time gone? How had things gotten so confused?
    At the bedroom door, she could make out Tim’s body already in bed. She slipped in next to him and felt the rough sand at the bottom of the sheets, an unavoidable hazard of sleeping at the summer house. She kicked it down further toward the end of the bed. Tim rolled toward her and circled an arm around her. She was surprised that he was even half-awake. She felt him inch his way closer, pressing his body up against hers, and for a second, her mind darted to Cole. It startled her, the way he wormed his way into her head even when she was doing her