Chapter 201: Juliet Hideaway 014

We were married in November-it was no easy feat to pull it off in five months-or so I was told. I just sort of went along with everything, and let Julie and her mother, with some input from my mom, running the show. Hell, that's the way it's supposed to be, isn't it? I only insisted on three things: 1) the wedding be in a Catholic church; 2) we have an open bar (which my dad happily paid for-it was a lot cheaper than the weddings and receptions he had to pony up for my sisters' weddings); and 3) that we have a DJ and not some fucking wedding band. Julie was totally on board with #2 and #3, and finally agreed on #1, but only if her uncle, a Lutheran pastor, was allowed to co-officiate; I was cool with that.

The wedding was great, as was our two-week honeymoon in Hawaii.

Fast-forward five years.

I was just turned 29 years old, Julie was not yet 31. We were still in our little house in the hip part of town. We were still married. We didn't have any kids, yet (Julie had decided to focus on our careers until we were in our 30's, then try and have the two kids Julie had planned for us-preferably a boy and a girl). I was doing well in my career-I had had several promotions, and was newly promoted to a senior marketing manager in my department-the youngest person at that level in the company. Julie had moved up, too; and although technically I had risen higher than her, I was not her boss. We had money, and friends, and nice cars and a nice lifestyle. But, for a while I had sensed that something was wrong. It all just kind of felt empty for me. I didn't even know how to talk about it to Julie. The fact was, we hadn't ever been big on talking about deeper feelings-I loved her, she loved me, and we exchanged words to that effect. When we talked, it was usually utilitarian (we need to have the gutters replaced, where are we going to dinner tonight), or casual chit-chat (office gossip, family news, a description about a particularly good meal one of us had while at a business dinner, etc.).

I thought maybe it was just a malaise that was settling over me as I neared my 30th birthday. But no, it wasn't that. Maybe a seven-year itch? Maybe. But, it didn't feel like a new feeling so much as a feeling which had been there all this time, but was just increasing in intensity. I loved Julie-I really did. I treated her with love and she did the same to me. I really wanted to have children with her and grow old with her. But, it just seemed that something was missing, or that a crack between us was growing into a chasm. It was hard to put a finger on it.

I had been spending more time out of town for business-probably three trips a month for 3-5 days each. Julie, on the other hand, was now spending less time on the road. That was the nature of our respective positions within the company. I thought maybe it was the time we spent apart that was doing it, but I dismissed that. Sure, the absences were a strain, but we had spent that much time apart earlier in our marriage, and I didn't sense this problem (or at least not much) then.

I was flying back home from Baltimore (fucking Baltimore!) on a red-eye, set to arrive Friday morning. I had been planning on flying out Sunday morning, anticipating finishing our meetings Friday, then having attending a client-company party on Saturday. I wasn't looking forward to the party, but it was expected. However, our meetings wrapped up successfully Thursday, rather than Friday. And, as it turned out, the company party had been rescheduled to the next month-I hadn't been informed until then (damn my new secretary-she should have been on top of that; oh well, these things happen). I called Julie to let her know, and to inform her that I was going to try and get a flight out Friday. She sounded less than thrilled at that, even irritated? I prompted her about that, and she recovered, explaining that she had plans with her girl friends for a 'girls' night out' Friday, and hated to cancel. I told her she didn't have to cancel on my account. She protested that she had to, so that she could welcome me back properly (I had been gone since Sunday). I told her not to worry, that she and I could spend Saturday in bed to make up for it. She laughed and said that it was a plan.

So, I went back to my hotel Thursday afternoon, changing into casual clothes for the customary night of dinner and drinks with the clients. I got a call shortly thereafter, my main client contact had a family emergency-he was very sorry, but he had to cancel out on our evening, but would make it up to me next time I was in town. I expressed my concern, and wished him well. Since his number two had already begged off earlier in the day-she was visibly ill, but still did her job remarkably (quite a trooper) -I decided that I could cut the evening short with a couple of the underlings and maybe get out even sooner. I called my secretary, held my tongue on the party gaffe (I'm not that big of an asshole), and asked if she could get me out as soon as possible Friday. I got myself showered, didn't bother to shave, and dressed, and ready to go, when I got the call from my secretary. She could get me a 12:10 a.m. flight out. A little earlier than I had anticipated, but I did ask for the first flight out Friday morning. I told her to book it. I had a nice dinner with the underlings, and made farewells.