Chapter 8

"Julie, I wish I could help, but this is for you and Mark to work out," Beth spoke softly and sympathetically into the handset. "Sooner or later, you'll have to confront him and force the issue. Until then, the problem won't go away."

Once again, for the umpteenth time in recent memory, Beth felt powerless to offer any constructive feedback. This had been an ongoing saga for the past few months. But lately, Julie's constant worrying about the state of her marriage, and about Mark's strange behavior, had gotten to the point where Beth was spending an hour or more a day on the phone with her, trying to analyze her situation and getting nowhere. And since Julie had returned from the band trip to western Pennsylvania, it had only gotten worse.

It had become obvious to Beth, now, that something was truly amiss. Earlier, she had attributed Julie's concerns to her rather insecure and, at times, pessimistic nature, although she would never tell her that. But in all the years she had known Julie, she had never seen her like this ... never.

What is it that Mark is up to, she wondered to herself. She knew Mark, mostly on a social level, simply because he was married to one of her closest friends. On the surface, he seemed like a decent, hard-working guy, quite devoted to Julie. They'd managed to stay together for two decades, hadn't they? But, Beth knew, marriage is a complicated endeavor, and when viewed from the outside, it's very difficult to detect, much less identify, a problem. And her own marriage to Allan, which she considered rock-solid, had certainly had its share of ups and downs.

Beth knew that forcing the issue was called for in this situation. At the same time, she understood Julie's dilemma. Assertiveness was not Julie's strong point. And forcing things might resolve the predicament, but what might be uncovered by doing so?

Maybe I'll present her with a diversion, Beth thought. "Julie, I have an idea. Let's go down to Atlantic City one of these evenings. Or better yet ... why not come over and spend a weekend at our place? This coming weekend, if you like. I'm sure Allan won't mind. Besides, he owes me for last week, when he had his poker buddies over and the game didn't break up till two o'clock," she laughed.

"I don't know," Julie replied, mulling it over. "What will Mark think?"

Beth wanted to reply, "Who cares what he thinks?" but she bit her tongue. "Listen," she said. "Do it for you. For yourself. You deserve some time away."

Julie perked up a bit. Upon further consideration, it sounded like a good idea to her. Anything to get out of the house, and away from the pressure-cooker tension that was beginning to pervade her home life.

"Yes, I'd like to come up and visit," she finally said. "I haven't been up to see you guys in a while. Mark's turned in for the night already, but I'll ask him tomorrow morning."

"Don't ask him," Beth replied, in an almost maternal tone. "Tell him."

Julie awoke with a start, thinking at first that she had overslept, and that Mark had left for work already. But she heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, and glancing at the clock, realized that she still had plenty of time to get ready for work.

Lately, any sort of meaningful conversation between Julie and Mark had become sparse; things had deteriorated that far. They'd been speaking to each other as necessary, in order to keep the household running, but very little beyond that.

Which is why, as Mark entered the room, he became startled when Julie addressed him. "Beth invited me to spend this weekend up at their place," she said, looking him square in the eyes. "Can you manage by yourself for a few days?" She felt an immediate distaste for the way she'd worded that last phrase.

"Sure," he said, returning the eye contact, but with such a blank coolness that it only served to confuse Julie more. "I'll be fine. Go ahead. It's nice to get away once in a while."

"If you get bored," Julie replied, turning her eyes away, "there's a lot of work out in the yard that needs to be done."

"I know," Mark answered. "I'll get to it." The wheels were already turning in his head, and Julie could sense it. Yes, I need some time away, she told herself. Problem is, I can't do that without giving Mark some time to himself, as well. And I need to limit it in any way I can.

Later that Tuesday morning, during a lull at work, Mark was once again contemplating his alternatives. He'd mentioned his availability this coming weekend to Shauna earlier that morning but, as expected, she had other plans. He thought it over a little more, and chose to get in touch with Angela next. He knew it was her day off, and decided to give her a ring at home.

"Hello ... Doc?" Angela yawned as she spoke.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Well ... sort of," she giggled. "But it's okay. It's high time to get up and at 'em, anyhow."

Mark told her about his upcoming free weekend. "I see how it is," came her reply. "The wife's out of town, and you want to spend some quality time with your young playmate." Her tone of voice was both impish and mocking.

"Something like that," Mark laughed. "The cat's away..."

"Hmm," Angela interrupted. "I think I see a trip to New York in the near future, just like we talked about before."

He hadn't thought of that, but it was an interesting idea. Could he pull it off? "Do you want to spend the whole weekend up there?" he asked.

"I'm off Friday evening and all day Saturday, but I need to be back home by Saturday night," came her response. "Believe it or not, I have to work Sunday. That's the day no one else wants to work, and we're one of the few salons in the area that are open on Sunday."

This could work, Mark thought to himself. Only a little more than twenty-four hours away from home.

"Let's do it," he finally offered. "I'll pick you up after work on Friday, and we'll head straight up. I'll go ahead and make hotel reservations."

"Not so fast, Doc," Angela shot back. "You got it all wrong. First of all ... leave the Beemer at home. You don't want to take that into the city. I'll drive, and we'll take my old clunker. And never mind the ritzy hotel. We'll just shack up in someone's apartment. I have lots of friends who'd be happy to put us up."

"Okay ... but what if we need a little, you know, privacy?"

"Not a problem. Trust me. Being resourceful is part of being a New Yorker," Angela said teasingly.

Mark thought it over a little more, and was intrigued by the possibilities. He suddenly felt a need to discuss this trip face to face. "Since it's your day off, let's continue this discussion over lunch, why don't we?"