Chapter 7

"Phillip this isn't you, is it? I am sorry that I haven't returned your calls. And my other emails have been so very cold. But things have changed. I am so confused. I really think I need some space."

As Ray read her email he nearly did a back flip. She needs space! Talk about the kiss of death. Phillip Marriot your days are numbered. And God help us all if I ever see you, Ray thought to himself.

'Dana, is who as important as why?'

'Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;' 5

It had been a week since the night at Polly's Place. It had been a good week. They were gentle with each other. There wasn't any other way to describe it. They went back to Polly's for lunch once. It was a little awkward for Ray. He wasn't use to having this kind of attention.

Dana laughed and teased him the whole time they were there. At night she still lay on her side away from him. But she would tug at his arm until he held her spooned to him.

"I think that that is what I dream we could be as well," she said.

He knew what she meant. He thought about it too. She was choosing to try with him.

He wrapped his arm around her tighter.

Things were light hearted in their house. Ray would come home and spend time talking to the kids.

Timmy had an obsession with trains. It was an obsession that only 4 year olds could get away it.

Judy was too young to be this mature, but she was. And Ray found himself struggling to try to balance either treating her like a child or treating her too much like a young adult. She would look at him with her mother's eyes. They were deep and dark and full of the nuances of wisdom. Her eyes were just too old for such a young face. Maybe Judy had his eyes too.

Dana laughed so much more. It was a beautiful laugh that he could never tire of.

When Ray walked into the kitchen he walked behind her and gave her a warm kiss on her cheek.

She spun around, her eyes laughing, her lips laughing, her face laughing in surprise and joy. Ray had to put a hand on the counter. For that brief second, he was so happy, happy in an overwhelming way. So much so that he was not sure that he could stand it.

"Hi. You surprised me," she exclaimed.

"A good surprise I am sure," Ray replied teasingly.

"We'll see. I'll consider it."

"So what's for dinner?" Ray asked.

"Roast chicken. And roasted eggplant with parmesan breadcrumbs."

"Eggplant," Ray groaned.

"Listen Mister. If you don't like it you don't have to eat it."

"Tuna fish with celery for everyone?" Ray asked wrinkling his nose.

""Very funny," Dana retorted.

"What I meant to say was that eggplant is one of my favourite vegetables?"

"Good answer. Kids, please set the table for dinner," she called out.

"Go get cleaned up for dinner," Dana continued.

The kids were done setting the table by the time he got back from putting away his briefcase. Ray got into the bad habit of checking to see if the computer was on. It was like watching an Indy car race to see the wrecks. You didn't want it to happen, but when it did, you couldn't look away. He sighed with relief everyday when he would shake the mouse and see that the computer was not asleep but truly turned off.

"Great dinner Mom. Right guys? Thank you mommy," Ray said.

"Thanks Mommy," Judy said quickly.

"Thank you Mommy," Tim mimicked.

Dana smiled around the table.

"You're all welcome."

"Kids, let's get the table cleared and the dishwasher loaded. Then its shower time. Then you can watch a half hour of television before bed."

The groans started.

Ray held up his hand. "The next groan I hear will not get any television tonight and will go right to bed. Mommy could probably use a night off. So mom why don't you go relax in the family room while we get everything cleaned up."

"Uh, okay," Dana said unsure what else to say. Her face did the job of telegraphing her surprise.

"Kids, let's go. Mom, scoot," Ray ordered.

Part of happiness was knowing to put someone else's welfare above the constant need to protect yourself. When the dishwasher was almost complete loaded Ray told Judy to go take her shower.

"Timmy when we are done here and Judy is done with the shower we can do your shower."

After both kids were washed and in their pajamas they marched back into the living room. Ray followed along. He watched Dana curled up on the couch asleep. Her eyes delicately closed as her lashes were almost resting on the top of her cheekbones. Her face smooth and beautifully reposed. She was sleeping on her back with a book resting on her stomach.

The kids watched their television quietly as Ray placed a blanket on Dana. As Tim and Judy watched television Ray watched Dana. He watched her sleep. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled. He watched the calm on her face and the innocence of her body. He craved to lay next to her or under her with her body resting on his.

"Daddy, the half hour is up," Judy said.

"Thank you Judy. Let's get you guys to bed."

He read Timmy his story and tucked him in.

He walked to Judy's room and sat on her bed. He leaned in and hugged the girl tightly to him.

"You are so smart. You are so pretty. You are growing up too quick. I half want you to be little for a bit longer. I know things are a little different but I hope they are better."

"Okay, Daddy," Judy responded, her tone ripe with the ignorance of youth yet her eyes looking on with understanding.

"I love you. Sleep tight," he said shutting off the light.

He walked down to the family room to look upon his sleeping beauty. He wanted to lean down to kiss her. He wanted to see if he was the prince that could wake her. But he feared he was a plain frog croaking somewhere in the background.

She looked too sweet to bother. Her face was at peace. She was at peace. He didn't want to break that.

Ray moved the blanket. He bent low to scoop her up into his arms. He bent deep with his knees and lifted her high.

The motion was enough to startle her awake.

"What?" she gasped.

She jerked awake her arms reflexively wrapping around his neck.

"Jesus, you scared me. What are you doing?" Dana asked.

"I am swimming the English Channel." Ray responded with a grin. He headed towards the stairs. He wasn't going to be able to hold her forever. Sure she was light. But she was also slightly more than a hundred pounds worth of feathers. He marched up the stairs. He was worried about 3 things: Dropping her, whacking her head on something, and falling down the stairs due to a massive coronary.

"Will you put me down? I'm too heavy. What are you doing?"

"No" he puffed out.

"Ray, this is silly. We didn't do this when we got married."

"I silly then. Stupid probably better term," Ray spit out quickly. Words were expendable, air was not.

"Ray, stop, you'll hurt yourself." Her arms still wrapped around his neck. Her voice muted.

Ray was about 2 steps away from the top of the landing when he dipped her suddenly.

She let out a squeal, clutching at his neck desperately.

Ray chuckled softly, "Shhh, wake kids."

"You bastard," she laughed quietly. It was almost a giggle.

He carried her to the bed after grandly sweeping her through the doorway to the bedroom. Ray barely avoided smacking her head against the edge of the door and unceremoniously dropped her onto the bed.

He collapsed next to her panting and gasping for air. His arms felt almost weightless. His brow was damp and his face flushed as his heart was racing. But he felt great. This was better than winning the Boston Marathon. It was better than beating a pencil thin Nigerian in the famed footrace.

"Everything but the toss onto the bed was very romantic," she teased.

"You're lucky" he responded in between breaths. "I was originally planning to shot-put you from the doorway."

Dana burst out laughing quietly.

She turned onto her side watching Ray catch his breath.

"What prompted that?" she asked.

"You were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you."

"Scaring the crap out of me will sometimes wake me," she joked.

"And it seemed like a good idea at the time. I am the new spontaneous Ray."

"Oh, we didn't do that when we got married."

"I know. We probably thought it was frivolous. We didn't know that nothing says fun and love like a bout of chest pains."

Dana laughed again. "I can't remember you ever joking as much with me. With Luke and Jim, yes, but not ever with me. I use to envy the sarcastic responses you gave them so freely."

Ray stopped his panting. "I'm so sorry Dana. I am such a fool."

"Not the only one. I never asked," she looked away. The burden of the past was sometimes too heavy to carry.

He reached up and with a finger turned her chin so she was facing him again.

"We're learning. We're trying." He stretched to cup the base of her skull and guide her head onto his shoulder.

He stroked her back as she lay against him. His eyes were content watching the light above them. He shifted to look at her, seeing her eyes closed.

"Are you sleeping?" he whispered.

"Yes," she whispered back keeping her eyes shut.

"Do you paint at all at home?" he asked.

Her eyes popped open. She waited for about 4 seconds.

"Yes all the time. My easel is in my closet."

"So where are these painting?"

"I'm not telling," she responded defensively.

"I promise not to go look at them."

"Okay, if you promise. I stack them in the center of the attic. That little finished section. I needed someplace that wasn't too humid or damp."

"And hidden?"

"Yes and hidden."

"How many painting are up there?"

"Quite a few. I re-use some of the canvases for the pieces I don't like. I have a little rotation set up. Stuff that is drying versus stuff that is stackable."

"What do you paint in? Oils?"

"Oh no. All the paintings would still be drying if I did that. I use acrylics and sometimes watercolours."

"So the attic is like this secret world?" Ray asked

"I guess."

"Have you thought some more about the studio idea?"

"Yes and no. I won't think about it for a day. Then it's all I can do to not think about it the next day. Things are up in the air," she finished lamely.

"I know. But your art isn't. If you love it and plan to continue I think you should do it. Your art is more about you than us. Until I can see it, what does it feel like?"