The First Ninety Days Ch. 07

"Jeez, look at us," Caitlyn said. "Planning for disaster. Maybe we won't need a third party. Maybe they'll be civil. Maybe we'll be able to make peace and have a nice time."

"Do you think so?" Jon asked.

"No," Caitlyn admitted.

"Well, you said it yourself," said Jon. "No matter what, they still can't hurt us."

"You said it yourself," she replied. "They hurtme all the time."

"But not me," he said. "And you know I'll be right where I belong: in between you and them. After all, they can't hurt you if they can't get past me, can they?"

She sighed. "I wish it were that easy." But she smiled too, and felt better.

These were the thoughts that preoccupied her that New Year's Eve: worries and concerns and possible disasters, flitting through her head. She remembered the Scripture that said,Do not worry about matters, but rather pray about them, and tried to, but it was a little easier said than done; there were only so many times she could ask for guidance, and strength, and the wisdom to not do anything that would tick her mother off, before it all got stale. Especially since she had probably ticked her mother off just by inviting her. For the first time she understood some of Jon's dissatisfaction with religion.This... I never thought I'd say this, but it isn't always satisfying. It'san answer, but not enough of one, not at times like this.

This was how Caitlyn managed to look up an hour later and discover that the meal had practically cooked itself.

They stood in the middle of the room, arms around each other, food ready and needing only re-heating to be servable. They'd emptied the trash and tidied up the kitchen area; they'd folded (or at least hidden) all the dirty clothes. The windows were open, admitting the grey strained winter sunlight, and the television was on to provide some inoffensive background chatter. It looked as good as it was likely to get.

"How do you think we should act," he asked her.

She sighed. "I think... I think we need to avoid offending them. We need to be as non-offensive as possible."

"Easier said than done, when we offend them just by being married," he said.
"Yeah. I... Yeah."

"Remind me again why this was a good idea?"

"Because I'm a sadist, and like watching you suffer. ...And because I'm a masochist, and like watching myself suffer."

"Good thing I've got a psych major. I'll straighten you out."

She clung to him tighter. "Sometimes... I wonder if we made a mistake. Sometimes life seems socrazy... Why were we in such a rush to grow up?"

"Because that was the price we had to pay to get you out," he murmured. "And, baby, you're happier now. I've seen you. You're free, and that makes you happy."

"I'm happy becauseyou make me happy," she whispered. "But all the other stuff..."

"Doesn't make me happy either," he finished. "But, baby, as long as we make each other happy..."

"Mmmm," she said, melting into his embrace.

How long they stood there, she could not say, but soon—all too soon—came the knocking on the door which indicated that the war, for better or worse, had resumed. It was followed immediately by a buzzing sound, which indicated that one of her parents had figured out how to work the doorbell.

"Hi," said the Stanfords.

"Hello," said the Delaneys.

There was an awkward silence.

"Well... Why don't you come in," said Caitlyn, wondering just how askew her hair had gotten. Hopefully Jon had no lipstick prints on his face, though hers didn't tend to do that. —No, there shouldn't be, because she wasn't wearing any make-up. How quickly and politely could she slip away to fix that?...

Then she caught herself.Why am I thinking about putting on make-up? This isn't a formal occasion, we're not entertaining guests or anything. ...Are we?

Her parents were duly impressed by the apartment and its furnishings—that is to say, not impressed at all, but pretending at it for politeness. They were rather critical of the dirtiness of the space (which was significant, though they'd done all they could without a steam-cleaner), its environment (not the most savory part of town) and its size (miniscule), and Mrs. Delaney seemed quite disapproving of the Ikea couch (which looked like nothing more than an extra-wide lawn chair but was quite comfortable). They seemed particularly unimpressed by the closet, in which Jon's and Caitlyn's clothes were stacked side-by-side, and the large double bed in the middle of the room. Jon and Caitlyn nodded, and smiled, and didn't say a word of agreement or disagreement either way, which Caitlyn could tell was only making her mother more peeved. She felt a surge of tiredness. Were they never going to let up?

After they had taken a tour of the apartment's three rooms, and Mr. Delaney had considered attempting to squeeze into the bathroom but decided against it (not because he was that large, but because it was so small), Jon led them back to the common room, leaving her parents before the TV momentarily while he and Caitlyn fired up the stove and microwave to rewarm the food. "We couldn't have had a better start," Caitlyn grumbled under her breath, and Jon touched her hand. She could see he wanted to do more, but didn't, for her parents nearby.

Once the food was ready (and tantalizing aromas were wafting through the apartment), Caitlyn returned to her parents. "Dinner's ready, if you are."

"Dinner? Oh, Caitlyn, that wasn't necessary," said her mother in a singularly underwhelmed tone.

"Nonsense," said Caitlyn, forcing a briskness into her voice that she didn't really feel. "Now that we live on our own, I figured it was time to pay you back for all the dinners you cooked forus. Come on."

"I hope you're serving more than dessert," said her father, which was probably supposed to be a joke but which she didn't think funny.

"Mmm, smells good!" said Jon in a disturbingly hearty voice. He handed out the plates and mismatched cups while Caitlyn's parents seated themselves around the table.

"Shall we?" said Caitlyn's father, holding out his hands, and Caitlyn and her mother took them, as well as Jon's, in preparation for the grace. But then Mr. Delaney looked at Jon with a tilt of his head, as if to say,Go ahead.

Jon froze. "Uh," he said. "Umm. Heavenly Father, we, uh. We thank you for the gift that we are abounty receive. Err. That we are... Bountifully... Able to receive. May the, uh. May the gifts of your grace be blessed to us—err,on us, um. Always. Amen."

"Amen," said Mr. Delaney, without a hint of irony, but Caitlyn saw her mother shoot Jon a dirty look before disengaging.

Jon picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes and was about to serve himself, but Caitlyn intercepted him and handed them to her father instead. Jon, taking the hint, routed all the food through him from then on. The mashed potatoes were a little dry, courtesy of their microwaving, and the chicken was a bit charred and not quite teriyaki'd enough. The carrots were interesting, though—fresh and crunchy, barely cooked, not the soggy, mushy things Caitlyn had generally been served at her parents' house. She thought she liked these better.

"These aren't cooked enough," said Mrs. Delaney.

Caitlyn wanted to throw something.

Jon shrugged. "I've always been a fan of less-cooked carrots. You get them boiled too much and they're almost like baby food. If you don't like them, the kitchen's right here—we can always send them back."

Caitlyn's mom seemed mollified, but once again gave Jon a cold look when she thought he wasn't looking.What, did she expect him to know how she likes her carrots? ...Then again, with all the times Mom'sserved us carrots... Well, Jon doesn't think that way and I don't either, but, maybe Mom's got a point.

"So," said Mrs. Delaney, evidently an opener for conversation. "You two have been married for... What, three weeks now?"

"Three weeks and one day," said Jon promptly.

"And how is that going so far," said Mrs. Delaney, with an insufficient attempt at a pleased smile.

Caitlyn wanted to let a huge grin slide across her face, but remembering her mother's presence, she gave a noncommittal shrug. "It's been fun."

"It has," Jon agreed.

"Fun?" said Mrs. Delaney. "Is that what a marriage is about to you? 'Fun'?"

"No," Caitlyn protested weakly.

"I don't think the grounds of our marriage are any business of yours," said Jon.

"It is when my daughter is involved," Mrs. Delaney retorted.

"Jon," said Caitlyn, and Jon subsided. She turned to her mother. "The basis of our marriage, mother, is respect, love and shared values. He wants what I want. I want what he wants. And when that's not true, we talk it out until it is."

"And what if he wants something crazy," Mrs. Delaney said. "What if he wants a new sports car, or, or a vacation in Las Vegas, or a mistress on the side?"

"Then we talk alot," said Caitlyn blandly. "If he can convince me that those things are actually going to do us good... Now, the mistress, I really doubt he could convince me of that. But hopefully we can compromise. And if we can't... Well, there might be problems. But we'll cross that bridge if it happens, which I seriously doubt it will."

"Though Vegas does sound fun," Jon said. "Lots of flashing lights and big fancy hotels that are half theme park. Could be interesting."

Actually, Caitlyn thought so too, but with her mother glaring like that she couldn't very well say so.

"So you married because you 'want what he wants,'" said Mrs. Delaney. "Like what? Sex?"

Caitlyn tried to catch Jon's eyes, but missed. "What," he said, "is there something wrong with sex?"

"Before marriage, there is," Mrs. Delaney exclaimed.

"Well, good thing we got married, then," said Caitlyn blankly.

Mrs. Delaney opened and closed her mouth, looking from one of them to the other.

"Mom, get over it," said Caitlyn. "I know you've done it."

"What!" said Mrs. Delaney.

"Oh, you haven't?" said Caitlyn. "Then how did Nathan and I get here? Immaculate conception?"

"We may be a new generation, but we still make grandkids the same way," said Jon blandly.

"That's besides the point," said Mrs. Delaney. "Your father and I waiteduntil we were married."

"So did we," said Caitlyn. "I told him very bluntly that certain things, including sex, were off-limits before marriage. And he was very patient and agreed that my rule was law."

"That's a rare man," said Mr. Delaney.

"Then how do you explain all the times I saw you kissing," Mrs. Delaney thundered.

Caitlyn and Jon exchanged surprised looks. "Umm," said Caitlyn. "By the fact that kissing is not sex?"

"Slippery slope!" said Mrs. Delaney. "Slippery slope! One day it's kissing, the next it's fornication."

"That's a big sort of a step," Jon said, still in that utterly bland voice. "Is this one of those 'Go directly to jail, do not pass Go, do not collect $200' things?"

"Isthat what you think," Caitlyn said.

"There's a rather classic reason for why a man and a woman get suddenly married," said Mr. Delaney in an implacable voice.

The light dawned on them both; Caitlyn could see it on Jon's face, could feel it on her own.

"So you think we're keeping some sort of secret from you," Jon said.

"Something about, for instance, impending grandchildren," Caitlyn said.

"And, judging by the look on your face, you probably wouldn't believe the truth," Jon said.

"Jon," Caitlyn said. That was probably true, but there was no need to antagonize her mother like that.

"And you thinkthis is an appropriate environment to raise a baby," said Mrs. Delaney, triumphant now. "This, this— This little hole in the wall, where you can't take a step without tripping over a harp or a couch or— You call this a place to raisemy grandchildren?"

"'Your' grandchildren," said Jon.

"It's small, yes," said Caitlyn. "But it's convenient to school—"

"And there's another thing, what about your degree," said Mrs. Delaney. "Youneed that degree. I can't believe you would jeopardize your entire future just for a few stolen moments of—"

"Caitlyn, are you pregnant," asked her father.

Caitlyn, surprised, said, "No."

Mrs. Delaney stopped in mid-word.

"Yes, it's small," Caitlyn repeated. "But it's convenient to school, meaning we don't need a second car, and it's cheap. And, since it's just the two of usand will be for some years yet, we donot need a lot of space."

"We arenot having a baby," said Jon. "Disbelieve us if you want. Nine months will prove you wrong."

"As to finances, yes things might be a bit tight for a while," said Caitlyn, "but between the two of us we had over fifty thousand at our disposal (before we had to buy my harp back) and we're working on making more. Jon's already—"

"Don't tell her that," said Jon. Evidently financial matters were private to him.

Caitlyn shot him a glance, but said nothing more.

"So," said Mrs. Delaney. "Wouldn't it have been more... Convenient... To hold off a little? To let my daughter finish her degree, and build up some more money? Instead of having to just, suddenly... Jump the gun."

"No," said Jon bluntly. "What would you have done to Caitlyn once you found out we were engaged, if we'd given you the chance? Would you have locked her in her room? Would you have forced her to cut off all contact with me? We'd been talking about—"

"Jon," Caitlyn said. Her mother didn't need to know the depths of their relationship. Not yet.

"And so you made a bargain," said Mrs. Delaney. "You told her, I'll agree to marry you, but only if you have sex with me. Kind of a silly deal, don't you think?—tying yourself down for life just for a few clandestine sessions?" She gave what was supposed to be her best leer.

Jon's face clouded. "If you think—"

"Jon," Caitlyn said quietly, laying her hand on his own. He looked at her. "Excuse us for a moment, please."

In the bedroom, she slumped against the wall. "This isn't working. They're getting to us." She left the door a little bit open—mostly closed, for privacy, but just enough to suggest that they would come out soon. "They're totally getting to us."

"Well, maybe if you'd stop holding me back, I'd—"

"We're trying not to piss them off! You want to just open your mouth and vent your frustrations! That's—"

"That's better than dancing around them!"

"No it's not, you'll just piss them off further. They're already— They think they're winning, and if you let them get under your skin like this they'll take it as a sign that they'rereally winning—"

"Well, if you'd let mesay something to them I could disabuse them of—"

"No!" she said.

The dull murmur of conversation from the common room went silent.

"Jon, we... We need to agree on what we..." She covered her face in her hands. "We need to decide what we're going to tell them and..."

"I don't like your method," he said.

"I know, and I don't like yours, so we'll compromise. We..." She fell silent as the enormity settled before her eyes.

"What?" he said, still pacing, his voice still tight.

"Jon, we... We've been doing this all wrong. We... Jon?"

"What?"

"Hold me."

He halted in mid-step, looking at her with those fiery eyes. But whatever he saw on her face, it changed his mind, because he stepped over to her and gathered her into his arms. She felt the tension in his body for a moment... And then he relaxed, and deflated, and was the warm, loving husband she knew.

"We've been doing it all wrong," she murmured. "This is what it's about. We said we need to avoid pissing them off; well, we can't. We said we need to tiptoe around them to avoid making them more ticked off; well, that's wrong. What we need to do is... Just be natural. Say whatever we'd say if they weren't listening. Be normal. Just... Love each other. Instead of hiding it for fear of making things worse. Wecan't not make things worse. But at least we can show them what it actually is they're upset with."

"God, you're right. Why didn't I see that? How stupid can I get."

"How stupid canwe get, it wasmy idea to be all tip-toe..."

"So we'reboth stupid. We share our smartsand our dumbs."

"That's what marriage is about, right?"

They stood perpendicular to the door, wrapped tight in each other, her head against his chest, feeling his breath in her hair as he bent his head over her, and she opened her eyes and suddenly realized that her mother was peeking in the slightly-open crack of the door. Before Caitlyn could say anything or even really comprehend, her mother's mouth tightened and she went away.

Caitlyn closed her eyes again.Whatever. It's fine. We've been playing my mom against herself, and now we just realized thatshe's been playingus against each other. No longer. Now we know, and we're going to stop, and go out there united, and nothing she does will hurt us. When my husband and I are together, we are unstoppable.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay," he agreed.

It was the first time they had held hands over the table in her parents' company.

"Sorry about that," said Caitlyn smoothly. "Little, you know. Marital strife. It's all worked out now. You know how it is." Her mother's face tightened a little, but her father nodded.

"As I was saying," said Mrs. Delaney. "This marriage idea of yours is silly. You're not ready, and it's only going to cause problems in your future. Inboth of your futures."

Jon looked at Caitlyn. She smiled at him. And he smiled back and said, "We don't agree."

" 'We'?" said Mrs. Delaney sharply.

"Yup," said Caitlyn happily. "We don't."

"It's true we're not quite ready for marriage, not financially at any rate," said Jon. "But I also think both of us don't want to wait that long. The way the economy is nowadays, you're basically not ready until you're thirty. Then you get married and have kids, and suddenly you're turning sixty around the time your kids graduate from college. That's nuts. I don't want to be that much older than my kids."

"Neither do I," said Caitlyn. "So that means we have tostart earlier. And if things happen before we're not ready... Well, it'll be tough for a while. But... We have friends who got through their undergraduate degree despite having a baby, so it's doable." If her parents noticed the singulardegree, they gave no sign. "And I know Jon would do whatever he could to make things easier."

"She's only my wife," said Jon. "I'd... I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror if I failed her."

"As to being silly... I think Jon asking me to marry him was the smartest thing he's ever done. And that my saying yes was the smartest thingI've ever done. Jon wants the same thing I do: a family. Nothing more, and nothing less. I didn't think I'dfind someone who wanted that, at least not for a few more years, because weare that far ahead of the curve, most peopledo get married at 25 or 30. Why do you think I was asked out by Ray?" That was the 46-year-old. "Why do you think I wasattracted to Ray? Because we were looking for the same thing: someone to settle down with and have children with."

"Weare ahead of the curve," Jon said. "Most peopledon't settle down and have this kind of life for a few years. They play around a little first. Which is their choice, but, obviously, Caitlyn and I didn't want to do that. So we didn't. And I'm just happy we found each other, or we might both still be lonely and bored."

"Did you notice that Jon didn't have a job when we first started dating—and that, about two months later, he did? Do you know why? Jon was originally planning to take a year off, do some soul-searching, maybe even travel."