Page 89 of My Husband Problem

Astrid Olsen O’Grady can pretend that being married to me is an annoyance and can say that she wants to end it, but I think she has been equally surprised and happy today.

And she bought my favorite body wash.

I can’t get over that.

I think about it as I walk into the living room. When did she do that? She didn’t know that I was coming with much notice. She just had it on hand in case I showed up? That seems out ofcharacter. It would seem more in character for her to have only the light lemony body wash sitting next to it. Or maybe an even more floral or fruity body wash that she’d force me to use.

All thoughts of body wash evaporate from my head as I step past the mustard yellow chair and find my wife lying on the couch, her gray tomcat sprawled from her shoulder to her hip, both of them fast asleep.

Did she maybe not sleep as well last night either? I was tired, but being in the same house with her again after so long, especially after the kiss, had me lying awake far too late last night.

I’ll also admit that I am very used to my expensive bed and high-thread-count sheets.

But most of my sleep disturbance came from Astrid, for sure.

Did my wife have a similar issue last night?

I debate for a moment about what to do, but I don’t want to wake her. Our lunch plans fell apart again, but I am unapologetic about how we spent the time.

I know all of this has already landed on the town’s website, and my grandfather will see it. I’m sure he will be surprised to see me doing manual labor, especially in Rebel, but nothing can compare to the look on my wife’s face when I came around the side of the house and she saw me in person, covered in sawdust with a tool belt around my waist.

I liked that look in her eyes. I’m not sure if she’s aware that she reacted to me the way she did, butIwas very aware of it.

I cross to the couch and take a seat at the end near her feet.

Oscar lifts his head, but, to my surprise, does not hiss at me. He just watches me. So I take a chance and gently, carefully, lift Astrid's calves, sliding closer to her and settling her feet and lower legs in my lap.

I don’t stroke my hand up her leg the way I wish I could. Still, I can’t help but register the silkiness of her skin or the fact thather sundress has ridden high on her thighs, one strap has fallen off her shoulder, the bodice of the dress slipping down the curve on her left breast slightly, or that the polish on the pinky toe of her right foot is chipped.

Her head rests on a sage-green throw pillow with tassels at each corner, her blond hair spread out in silken strands. I just watch her sleep for a moment, wondering if that’s creepy. Probably a little.

But I like her rumpled.

Even in her online videos, when she is working out or talking to her followers about a painful routine or one that is suddenly less painful because of something she’s done, she still always looks put together and prepared.

Today, from the blush on her cheeks in the kitchen when we stood close, to her amused surprise at finding people gathered in her front yard having a party while they critiqued and improved her house, she was off balance.

I liked that too much.

She takes a deep breath in her sleep and settles further into the cushions. I reach for the TV remote on the ugly wooden coffee table and point it at the screen, content to just sit here while she sleeps.

I find a baseball game between two teams I don’t care about, beyond following the general baseball standings, and turn the volume down to where it’s barely audible. Then I slide deeper into the couch and rest my head on the back.

Two minutes later, a large gray tomcat is climbing into my lap.

I freeze.

I looked down at him. “What’s this?” I ask him quietly.

He doesn’t answer. But he puts his paw up on my shoulder, and I do what I’ve seen Astrid, Wilson, and Patty all do. I cup my hand under his butt and lift slightly. He happily climbs up,claws digging lightly into my shoulder as I wince, until his head is tucked against my neck.

He starts to purr. And I realize I'll be stuck in this exact position until Oscar decides we’re done.

I have never had a cat purring in my ear before, and I had no idea what a powerful sleep aid that would be until I awake twenty minutes later.

Oscar is nowhere to be seen, but I still freeze, not wanting to move and disturb the moment.

My head is resting on Astrid’s stomach. At some point, I pulled my legs up onto the couch and curled into a fetal position.