Chapter 75

Rachel sighed wearily and turned off the faucet, sinking into the tub full of bubbles.  The flight from Turks and Caicos back to New Jersey wasn’t any longer than the one that had carried them to Paradise, but her emotions seemed to act like an extra weight on the tail and slowing the plane down.  The trip had felt endless.  She had been angry, certainly.  But more than that, she had
been – and still was – deeply hurt.  

Jon claimed marriage held no higher esteem because of that piece of paper, but his words and actions on the flight home had completely contradicted that claim – and made her point.  When it came down to it, he had been the one to place “wife” on a higher pedestal than “girlfriend” when it came to taking “a knife to his balls”.  And it was obvious he hadn’t even recognized it. 

When Rachel had suggested to the driver than Jon needed to make a stop at the drug store on the way home, things had gone from bad to worse.  Apparently condoms – or sex with her – weren’t on his agenda.   Jon’s barked instructions to the driver to bypass the stop and go directly to his house, combined with his stink eye in her direction, had left little doubt that he was still as pissed as she was. 

He was even more irritable when she’d instructed Phil to stop at her place first. 

“What?  Now you’re not even coming home with me?”

 “I think we need a little space.”

Jon’s patience was long gone by this point and, while she knew he didn’t want to have a brawl in front of the driver, he wasn’t beyond hissing at her under his breath. 

 “No fuckin’ way.  Don’t start this shit Rachel.  We agreed…. no matter what, at the end of the day…”

“Then you come over at the end of the day.  I have work to catch up on, and laundry to do.”

A frustrated sigh accompanied the hand that was raked roughly through his hair.   “Sometimes I think you go out of your way to be difficult.”

No.  She didn’t.  He just seemed to take everything that way.  But, in the interest of keeping the peace, she refrained from being ‘difficult’ for the rest of the trip by staying silent and staring out the window.

When they arrived at her place, Rachel found out that the cold of her house was nothing compared to the coldness of her vacation partner when he stomped up the stairs to deliver her suitcase to the bedroom.  She was in the kitchen putting her laptop on the counter and turning up the heat when she heard him stomp back down and then slam the front door, leaving without speaking. 

Was she being difficult?  He had seemed so convinced she was being unreasonable that Rachel began to wonder if he was right.   She considered the entire conversation they’d had in the car, if you could call it a conversation, while unpacking. 

The truth was, in spite of what she’d told Jon, she didn’t have work to catch up on and she’d done laundry before they left the Caribbean.   The only thing to be done was put away her clothes and suitcase.  She just needed a little time to lick her wounds before she would be able to have a calm, civilized talk with him.  

The bubble bath, intended to soothe, only added salt to those wounds when she thought of the day Jon had gifted her with the assortment of bath products that she was steeping herself in.   That led to other memories of those early days which only managed to make her feel worse.  In retrospect, she could see their relationship had never really had one of those carefree ‘honeymoon’ periods that most people enjoyed.  There had always been something to overcome or resolve between them, and she simply wasn’t accustomed to that kind of friction.

Things just hadn’t been that way with Nick.  The truth was, the differences between her relationship with Jon and her relationship with Nick had been pronounced right from the start.  

Rachel’s relationship with her late husband had been almost effortless.   Theirs had been a calm, sedate kind of love.  They rarely fought and, if they did, it would never have been with the hatefulness she and Jon seemed drawn to.   She missed that – a relationship where she could communicate with her partner without it becoming an argument, because once the arguing started she immediately found herself on the defensive.  And being defensive made her jump immediately into being offensive – and bitchy. 

Maybe it was all a matter of attitude.  She’d had an easy, relaxed relationship once.  She knew what it should be like.  Maybe with a little more effort on her part, she could have the calm she’d known with Nick, while still having the passion she shared with Jon. 

Her pruned fingers clued her in that it was time to get out of the tub.  After drying herself, she found a snuggly pair of Henley pajamas and cozy slippers were the perfect attire for the still-chilly bedroom.   She dressed quickly and returned downstairs, still deep in thought. 

The added heat of the fireplace had the family room warmer than the rest of the house, it was a  perfect spot to relax with a glass of wine and contemplate a better way to do things.   When Jon returned two hours later, that was where he found her.

“Hey.”

Rachel knew him well enough to see the desire in those gorgeous blue eyes.  She could also see uncertainty – probably uncertainty about how she would receive him.  He needn’t have worried.  Rachel wanted harmony, not another fight.  Maybe then they could resolve their issue without any more hurt feelings.

“Hey, babe.  Want some wine?”  Rachel lifted her glass with a small smile.

His shoulders relaxed a little and he came fully into the room, bending at the waist to kiss the top of her head.  “S’okay… I’ll get it.”

The tension in the air immediately lessened to an acceptable level.  Rachel was glad he didn’t seem up to another brawl any more than she was.   Hopefully, once he saw her effort to play nice then he would, too.

“Everything okay with your kids?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.   I’ll only get to see Jake and Romeo a few minutes tomorrow when I’m there, but Steph and Jess seem excited about the trip.   All the inauguration stuff is just out of whack.”  Jon sat down on the opposite end of the couch, picking up her legs then dropping them on his lap as he settled in.  “Real life… it always slaps you in the face as soon as you check emails.”

“What’s wrong?  What’s out of whack?”

“The logistics of something like this Inauguration are a pain in my ass.  Between the security for the President and the sheer number of people in the crowd...  Then throw in the other performers, speakers, all that stuff…. I can’t control ANY of it and it drives me up a fucking wall!  It’s five days of organized disarray!”

“Five days?”  That was news to Rachel.  She had assumed it was only a day or two.  Not five.

“Yeah, rehearsals, the actual event, the Presidential Gala, and then a couple appearances the next day.  Five days altogether.  Dorothea and Steph love all the dress-up stuff.  Jesse isn’t as much into it but he likes seeing all the entertainers.  They’ll just ship ol’ dad off to the trenches and party while I’m singing for my supper.”  Jon’s previous frustration was now tempered with an amused grin.  He was clearly looking forward to the time with them.  “The hotel suite will be a disaster – Dot and Steph always pack way too many clothes.  Then they complain they have nothing to wear and end up on some last minute shopping expedition.” 

They’re sharing a suite?  All of them?

Rachel had given little to no thought about their rooming arrangements.   Once Jon had uninvited her and replaced her with Dorothea and two of their children, she’d intentionally chosen to not think about it.  His explanation that it was a historical event that Dorothea wanted their children to experience had robbed her of any retort without looking like a total bitch.  She’d been hurt at the time, but with their vacation ahead of them, she’d convinced herself she was being unreasonable and focused on the time they would share in the tropics.

Now?  They were home and the upcoming trip cut a new wound in her.  

It wasn’t that she was worried about anything sexual happening between Jon and his former wife.  It was the comfortable familiarity they would share and the reminder that she’d been discarded that emotionally leveled her like a concrete train at 200 miles per hour. 

It had taken her months to be able to accept him and the relationship that he’d been determined to cultivate,  but she had.  She had.  Now, though... any notion she had of them being perfectly in sync had just been ripped away like an ugly scab from her still tender heart.  The pain was a physical ache.

She would never be able to discuss this tonight and keep that hurt in check.  It might be one of her greatest faults, but when she was hurt, she lashed out in an effort to make the other person hurt in the same way.   She was already feeling ill at the thought of it all. 

She wasn’t up for anything more tonight - certainly not a discussion about Jon’s roommate at the Presidential Inauguration.  Nothing good could come from that.  Her hand instinctively went to her stomach to soothe the queasiness that was threatening to become more. 

“What’s wrong?”

“My stomach has just been a little off today.  I think I’ll go turn in.”

Jon caught her wrist as she moved to stand.   “I just got here.  We need to talk about what happened on the plane, Rach.”

“I know, but it’s best for us to not talk right now.  Please, Jon.  Let’s try it my way this time, okay?  When you get home from D.C. we’ll both have had enough time to cool off and we’ll talk things out.   Until then, I’ll respect your feelings about us not having sex until the birth control issue is resolved.  Fair?”

She didn’t know if he was annoyed because she didn’t want to talk or if it was because he wasn’t going to get laid tonight, but Jon’s mood also darkened. 

“So you’re gonna give me the cold shoulder AND use my own words against me to avoid sex entirely.  That’s really great, Rachel.  Fucking great.”

You can communicate without fighting with this man.  You love him. 

“You’re the one who has the issue, Jon.  I’m only trying to go along with your proclamation that we wouldn’t have sex without birth control.”  Her voice was deliberately soft.  She wasn’t trying to start a fight and, to that end, leaned down to kiss his mouth as she walked by. 

He didn’t even bother to pucker his lips.

Couldn't.  Pucker.  His.  Lips.  He was really going to be that petty?  Show her that little respect?

She felt like her sluggish, disheartened blood had been replaced by rapidly flowing ice water.

“If it makes you more comfortable to sleep at your house, that’s fine,” she offered with every drop of coldness that ice water offered her.  “Whatever you need to do, Jon.  G’night.”