I looked at Grant.
His face showed no surprise.
“Judith,” I said, “what exactly were you going to fix?”
Silence.
Then a laugh.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.
You heard that?”
“Yes.”
“You misunderstood.”
“Then explain it.”
Another pause.
When she answered, the sweetness was gone.
“I meant your priorities.”
Grant looked at the floor.
There it was.
No apology.
No denial.
“My priorities.”
“You have been thinking like a single woman,” Judith said.
“Traveling whenever you want.
Clinging to that tiny apartment.
Making everything about what you prefer.
Marriage requires compromise.”
I looked at the stained coffee mug sitting beside the sink.
“What was Grant supposed to compromise?”
“That is not a useful question.”
“It’s the only useful question I have.”
She became sharper.
“A wife cannot behave as though nobody else’s needs matter.”
“I agree.”
“Good.”
“So why have all the needs that matter been Grant’s?”
Judith went silent again.
Grant reached for the phone.
I stepped away.
“My coffee.
My apartment.
My career.
My name.
When I should have children.
Where I should live.
You have opinions about all of them.
Tell me one part of Grant’s life you expected him to surrender for me.”
Judith said, “You are being dramatic.”
“No.
I’m being specific.”
Then I ended the call.
Grant looked furious.
“You hung up on my mother.”
“Yes.”
“You have no idea how much she has done for this wedding.”
“That is exactly the problem.
I know how much she has done for this wedding.
I’m finally asking how much she was planning to do to the marriage.”
He paced to the window.
The rain had started again, tapping lightly against the glass.
