Where did that come from?"
"You see me, Judd Altman."
And I do. It's like I'm doing it for the first time. Like I've had my eyes closed for years and now I'm brave enough to open them.
I change the subject. I don't want to talk about sex.
"So... the anniversary?"
"What about it?"
"Anything I need to know? Anything you want me to do?"
"I'll let you know."
"Okay. And the vows?"
She smiles dreamily and looks out the window. "I'm working on them."
"Me too." Which is sort of a lie. I've got the paper out, and a pen, but I haven't put them together. My mind has been on the show. My priorities have been a little skewed, I've always told her that our marriage is the first thing on my list, but it hasn't been. I'm under some pressure, and maybe I haven't realised it until now. All of this with Quinn and the counselling, and then work as well, it's all tiring.
I need to get away for a while, but my schedule simply won't allow it.
"Quinn..." I start hesitantly.
"Judd," she says back.
"Do you feel... overwhelmed by all of this? Because I do."
She turns to me sharply. "Really?"
"Yeah. All of this: you, me, us, the show, the baby. Sometimes it seems..." I sigh. "Sometimes it's too much. I still get so angry."
"Oh god," she says. "I thought I was the only one feeling that way. You still seem so controlled, so calm."
"But I'm not. You know I'm not. And I'm good at hiding myself, and you know that too. But I'm not doing that anymore."
She bites her bottom lip. "So what do we do?"
"I don't know. But what I do know is that we need to get some space and recharge. I'll think of something. Do you trust me?"
"I do," she says, and then laughs. "I do."
Friday
We drive through the city for our date. Quinn looks lovely as always, from head to toe. We drive into the Latin Quarter, in front of a dance studio. The street is alive with people and color and the studio is loud with music and light.
"Dancing?" Quinn asks me quizzically.
"Dancing," I say. "You're always wanted to learn."
"Judd..."
"This might be our last chance, before any sort of dancing is off the table."
"I suppose."
"And if you get tired, we can just sit out and watch. Come on, it'll be fun."
I've booked us both into to salsa classes. We never had the time before, but then both of us lost interest in each other. Either way, we lost an opportunity, like so many others, to engage and connect. But that was the old us. This is the new. So I lead her upstairs. She's shaking with excitement or fear, I can't tell which. Maybe it's both.
For the next two hours we dance and laugh and finally sit. I'm not a good dancer, at least that's what she would say and laugh as she says it. And tonight I hardly covered myself in glory, but that was not the intention of the exercise. I'm having fun, damn it, and I having fun with her.
We stop for dinner on the way home and refuel. Quinn's getting dizzy and I should be more careful in the future, making sure she gets to eat before something like this again. I'm probably right. We won't be able to do this again, not for a long time anyway. But once again, that's not what all this is about.
We go up to our apartment and shower and dress and climb into our beds. Tomorrow is another busy day.
Saturday
Grant looks us over approvingly. We're sitting opposite, in our places - not assigned, perhaps fated, perhaps those very seats were made just for us. I'm getting comfortable in mine. I've had some hard times on this couch, and many filled with wonder, and I guess I'm going to miss it. We're holding hands. Her fingers are intertwined with mine, so much so that no matter how hard I look I can't tell which of them belong to me and which belong to her.
"So," he begins finally. "I thought today we could take a little step back. We've been looking at some pretty heavy stuff the past few weeks, and I think we need to re-evaluate where we are and where we're going."
"How did writing the vows go?" Mary asks us.
"Done," says Quinn, like it's a contest.
They all look at me. "I've started. I want to get this right, you know? I've getting my thoughts together."
"Its fine, Judd," Mary says. "It's not a test."
"Oh, good." That could have been sarcastic, and it certainly could have been in the past delivered that way, but it isn't now because I'm being serious.
"How about the dates?"
Quinn smiles, that happy smile I saw on her in our early years. She would smile like that often, if we've shared a meal, made love, gazed at the stars, as I came home and she greeted me. I'm just realising that she smiled like that all the time. And then life and loss took it away, and I'm grieving the loss of it now, all those years when I should have realised that with the loss of that smile she was telling me that her heart was broken and I need to step up and wrap my arms around her and just love her, regardless of what she was doing with Wade.
"Judd has been wonderful," she is saying. "He's made every Friday night special."
She talks about the shooting stars, cooking for her, the dancing class. Grant and Mary watch her every move, follow her hands, drink in the changes in her expressions, hear the joy in her voice. And I'm watching her too, in wonder and pride.
She talks about the French Restaurant.
"And I especially like the treat he gave me between the main and the desert."
"You're not going to mention..." I can't say anything else.
She does. She tells them. I'm spluttering.
She's squeezing my hand. "Judd gave me, you know, in the bathroom."
"We're talking about this? Right, okay."
"I think it was the best he's ever done. I still think about that. I still get tingles."
"Judd," Grant says. "How do you feel about Quinn talking about this?"
"A little uncomfortable, to be honest." I realise I'm squirming and Grant has noticed.
"There's no need to be."
"I'm just not used to talk about this sort of thing to strangers."
"But, we're not strangers," Mary points out.
"True," I say.
"Sex is a normal and wonderful part of marriage, Judd," Grant says. "It's normal because it's just part of our every day lives, how we meet each other's needs, because we all have them. But also wonderful, because it's more than just meeting needs or scratching an itch. It connects a couple in ways that can't be imagined. If our vows are what brings us together then sex and, from that intimacy, is the glue that holds us together."
"We've talked about bonds before," Mary says. "Sex creates those bonds. So, no sex, then those bonds start to fade and sometimes we go looking to make other bonds with other people, because we need them."
Quinn squeezes my hand again, not because she's happy this time.
"We're not having sex," Quinn says, and I know what is bothering her. "Is that right? I'm mean, I don't want to drift away from him again. And I don't want him to think that I'll go to someone else, which I won't." She turns to me, her eyes are pleading, but they are sure of her words. "And I get afraid sometimes that he'll get sick of the look of me and find someone else."
"That is a different thing," Mary says. "You've both agreed to a period of abstinence for a very good reason. And it's not for a long time. You're using this time to prepare your vows and your new life together. And when you come back to each other, I'm pretty sure the sex will be like your first time, or close to it."
"But better," Grant adds, "because you know each other intimately. It's also important not to pressure yourselves."
Mary nods. "And plenty of couples can't have intercourse for lots of reasons - health for one. After the baby will be another time for both of you. So, this time, this will prepare you for that time as well. But you can be creative in those times too. What you did at the resturant is a good example of being inti
mate without actually having intercourse."
"What about now, because we're not having sex?"
"There's no right or wrong answer here. You make the rules, not us, not anyone else. But there are a lot of things that you can do together that are still sex - like what you mentioned before. Those things may be included in the list."
I'm sitting there, in a state of shock. Let's face it, I'm not used to having these kind of frank discussions. When I was young and still at home, I'd talk with my brothers, and with Boner, but it was just dirty talk, smutty talk. But this, this is real and honest and unflinching. Well, I am flinching anyway.
We were expecting this, but I think it came upon us abruptly.
We finish finally and I have to admit I'm glad. They've given us some things to think about, so it hasn't been completely uncomfortable.
I'm thinking that the vows are a test and I'm failing. There's something else that's bothering me, but I'm not sure what about. I guess it'll come to me.
Grant grabs me as I leave. This is a regular occurrence and I'm expecting it.
"You seem tense," he says.
I guess I am. I tell him about work and not having sex and about going to see my family.
He nods slowly. "So, I want you to do something to let off steam. Going back home is a good opportunity to do that. Do something you did when you were a kid, with an old friend or one of your brothers. And do something for Quinn as well."
"Like what?"
"You'll think of something. Something she'd like to do, or has always wanted to do."
We drive out to Elmsbrook. It takes us nearly three hours and we're tired when we pull up to the Marriot and find our room. Quinn is more than tired and so I let her lie down for a while before we go over to my old house for dinner. I'm