to them, but she seriously doubted he was still in love with her.
These last few years had been hard on his pride. His career was over, and his job with the tree service wasn't nearly as satisfying as logging had been. Her salary now paid a larger share of the expenses, and she suspected that bothered him - not that he'd actually said so. But then, they didn't talk about money, mainly because she avoided any subject that might distress him.
Although she was half an hour later than usual, Dan didn't comment when she walked into the kitchen, carrying her groceries.
"I'm home," she announced unnecessarily as she set the sack on the countertop.
Dan had already positioned himself in front of the television, watching the local news. His boots were off and his sock-covered feet rested on the footstool that matched his old overstuffed chair.
"I thought we'd have taco salad for dinner. How does that sound?"
"Great," he answered without enthusiasm.
"How was your day?"
"All right." His eyes didn't waver from the television screen.
"Are you going to ask about mine?" she asked, growing irritated. The least he could do was show some interest in her and their life together, even if it was just a token effort.
"How was your day?" he muttered, his voice impassive.
"Terrible."
No response.
"Aren't you going to ask why?"
"You can tell me if you want."
The man she'd lived with for thirty-five years couldn't have cared less. Grace couldn't stand it any longer. Each attempt to draw him out was met with denial and accusation. If she was unhappy, it was her fault, not his - that was his argument the last time she'd tried to talk to him.
Walking into the living room, Grace reached for the remote control and muted the sound. Sitting down on the footstool, she faced her husband.
"What?" he demanded, annoyed that she'd disrupted his news program.
Grace stared at him. "Do you love me?"
Dan laughed as though she'd made a joke. "Love you? We've been married for thirty-five years."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"What do you want me to say? Of course I love you. I can't believe you have to ask."
"Is there someone else?"
He sat back and looked hard at her, then shook his head. "That's a ridiculous question."
"Is there?" she repeated.
"No. When's dinner going to be ready?"
Grace had another question first. "Do you remember the last time we made love?"
"Are you keeping track?"
She wasn't fooled. Answering a question with one of his own was a familiar trick of his. "No, but I can't remember. Can you?"
"I hate it when you do this." He shoved the footstool forcefully away and got up, burying his hands in his pants pockets. "If we're going to have an argument, let's make it over something worthwhile. I didn't realize you were so insecure that you need to be told I still love you."
"What I need is some affirmation that you want to be in this marriage."
"I had no idea you were so paranoid." He walked to the other side of the room.
"I'm not!"
"You suggested I'm having an affair."
She didn't believe it, and in fact, there was no real evidence, but she'd felt it might shock him enough to get his attention.
"What do you want from me?" he asked irritably.
"Some sign of life," she cried.
He glared at her. "Did it ever occur to you that I might be tired?"
"Too tired to talk?"
"I've never been a conversationalist. You knew that when you married me. I'm not going to change at this stage of my life. I don't know what's bothering you, Grace, but get over it."
"That's not fair! I'm trying to get you to take some responsibility for what's happening to us."
"You're the one who's so unhappy."
"Because I want more from our marriage than this." She motioned with her arms in a futile effort to explain.
He frowned. "I'm giving you everything I have to give."
So was she. Dear God, so was she.
"If it isn't enough, I don't know what to tell you."
Her throat thickened with heartache. This was all there was, all there would ever be, and it wasn't enough.
The phone rang and they both jerked their attention toward the kitchen wall. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she brushed them aside as she hurried into the other room.
"Let the machine get it," Dan said.
"Why, so we can talk some more?"
"No," he responded gruffly.
"That's what I thought." She reached for the receiver and cleared her throat before she spoke. "Hello," she said, forcing herself to sound calm.
"Mom? Oh, Mom, you'll never guess what?" Kelly