Marjorie always waited for Ash to get settled before she went to see him after he got home from work. She didn’t want his indifference so she had learned to wait until he’d had time to remember he was home.
She stood at the door to the sunroom where he was sipping his lemonade. The back of his head above the chair and for a moment she loved the shape, the color of his hair. For a moment she remembered she loved Ash.
“You’re standing there spying on me,” Ash said. He laughed, he could have said it with bitterness, but Marjorie heard none of that.
“Admiring you from afar.”
“Come and admire me here,” he said, turning toward her. She kissed his forehead lightly as she passed. He held her hand a moment longer than usual. She sat down in her chair next to him and they faced the view of the garden.
“What happened with you today?”
“Ah, I had lunch with Renee. I always enjoy that you know.”
“What else, I can tell there is something else.”
“The snake again.” Marjorie breathed in and out and worked to hide the anger that threatened to explode. “Why can’t they just clean the house of all the snakes. Get them all, every day if they have to.”
“You know why. They are hoping for a house with more children. One is not enough. Good luck, dear, you know they think it good luck.”
How was it her fate to have this measured husband. Who could say such a thing without feeling a violence toward their house staff? He was stern at his work.
He reached for her hand. “You know we’ve talked about another child.”
Marjorie squeezed Ash’s hand, his big warm hand that had become a stranger to her body. She held her breath two counts. “But you were the one who said we should wait.”
“Maybe the snakes are a sign.” Marjorie laughed at Ash, a man for whom signs did not exist.