Page 37 of Leave a Mark
She looked miserable.
He took a step back and leaned against the stove, noting, too, the set of his shoulders bunched up behind his ears. The tightness in his gut. The blush of shame that had come to his face when she asked when he’d grow up.
He felt awful.
Lee drew in a long breath, let it out, and shook his head. “Marcelle… what are we doing?”
Her mouth gaped. “We’re arguing about your ridiculous habi—”
“No.” Lee held up a hand to stop her. “What are we doingtogether?”
Marcelle’s head snapped back as if he’d slapped her. “What?”
Lee swallowed and softened his voice. “Are you happy with me, Marcelle?”
“I…” Her mouth opened and closed twice, and her eyes widened, this time in alarm. Lee nodded, knowingly, a sad smile coming to his mouth.
“You don’t seem happy…”
“But… I… I would be if you would just grow up a little.”
Lee pressed his lips together, tamping down on his temper and shaking his head. “Marcelle, I’m all grown up. I don’t think that’s what you want,” he said, just an edge of bitterness sneaking into the words. “I think you want me to be someone else.”
“That’s not true." Now she looked afraid. She took a step closer to him and touched her fingers to his wrist. But then she let her hand drop to her side.
“Be honest. If you knew now that I’d still be collecting comics and playing video games and buying outdoor toys when I’m sixty, would you still want to be with me?”
Marcelle’s eyes bugged. She looked horrified. “But that’s not going to happen!”
Lee couldn’t help the harsh laugh. “Yes. It is.”
“But it won’t. You’ll go into practice, and we’ll get married, and you’ll settle down…" She sounded too confident, too familiar with her picture of the future. “…and we’ll travel and play tennis and entertain… and it will be really… really fun.”
Lee felt a chill sneak down his spine. This is what she saw when she looked at him. She didn’t want him. She wanted his father.
He brought the heels of his hands to his eyes and rubbed them roughly before dragging his palms down his face. How had he not seen this before?
“I fucking hate tennis,” he muttered. Then he locked eyes with her again. “Here’s what I want. I want to keep working at the charity hospital and get married to someone who is crazy about who I am. And we’ll go kayaking and walk our dogs and sleep ‘til ten on Saturdays and eat leftover Chinese for breakfast in bed… until we have kids, of course. Three or four kids don’t let you sleep very late—”
“Three…or four?"Lee couldn’t be sure, but Marcelle’s left eyelid may have twitched.
“Yeah. Growing up as an only child really sucked. I want loads of kids,” he said, certain that he’d mentioned this before. Had she tuned him out? Or had she just heard what she wanted to hear? “We’d have to buy a bigger house, of course. One with a great room where the kids could build forts with sofa cushions and sleep on the floor in front of the fireplace on cold nights.”
Marcelle folded her arms around herself and put a fist to her lips. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you? Please say you’re teasing me.”
For a moment, Lee wanted to. Marcelle wasn’t all hard edges and hospital corners. During the holidays, every time they’d passed a Salvation Army Santa ringing his bell, she’d turn her change purse inside out into his bucket. Lee would ask her to hold his spare change just to watch her do it. Whenever she broke down and played a selection on the Wurlitzer, she’d sing along in the sweetest voice. She didn’t have perfect pitch, but that’s what Lee loved about it. And the woman could spoon. At the end of the day, she’d curl into him and remind him that for all of her hard ways, she still had a few soft spots.
But this wasn’t going to work.
“I’m not teasing, Marce.” His voice had gone soft, and he watched the effect of it in her eyes. They held his for a moment before filling with tears.
Great. I’ve made two girls cry in as many days.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Lee crossed the space that separated them and cupped her shoulders, hating the way pain etched her face.
Marcelle opened her eyes again. “I told myself this would work out if we stuck together long enough,” she said, sniffing. “Either you’d change or I’d mellow out.”
Lee laughed a sad laugh. Marcelle smiled a sad smile.
