menu and asked for their drink orders. Michelle ordered a glass of chardonnay. Chris ordered a brand of beer she’d never heard of.
“I’m starving,” Michelle said.
“Well, everything is good here,” Chris said. “If you like sushi, maybe we could share a couple rolls.”
“That sounds great,” she said. “Why don’t you order for us?”
When their server returned with the drinks, Chris ordered a Beachcomber Roll and a Green Dragon Roll with two garden salads.
They each took a drink and looked out over the ocean. It couldn’t have been a more perfect evening. There was a light breeze, but not enough for Michelle to need the light sweater she’d slipped into her purse.
“I was trying to think of the last time I saw you,” he said. “Was it your wedding day?”
“Hard to believe it’s been fourteen years, huh?” she said.
“Shelle, I heard about your daughter. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said and took a sip of her chardonnay.
They sat quietly for a few moments taking in the sights and sounds of a late summer evening on the boardwalk.
“I used to love coming to the beach in September,” she said. “No crowds. Weather was still warm. It was like time just slowed down.” She took another sip of wine.
If it was possible, Chris looked even better than he had in college. It was hard for her to not notice his arms and chest in his black t-shirt. He certainly hadn’t quit working out.
“What brought you back, Shelle?”
She drank some wine and set the glass down. “It’s a long story.”
He smiled and said, “I’m in no hurry.”
Their waitress brought their salads and asked if they wanted another drink. They did.
Michelle drizzled some dressing on her salad and took a bite.
“If you’d rather not go into it, I understand,” Chris said.
Michelle set her fork down and held her glass so the moonlight sparkled through it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of ocean air and slowly exhaled. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Chris who was watching her closely. “Things were good. We were happy. Until Sarah got sick.”
“What did she have?”
“Leukemia,” she said. “It was awful.” She sipped some wine. “We tried everything. Chemo. Bone marrow transplant. Special diets. Supplements. Every alternative treatment we found.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing worked,” she whispered. “She just kept getting worse.” She looked at Chris and could see his eyes filling with tears. “And after eighteen months of doing everything we knew to do, she died.”
“Oh, Shelle, I’m just so sorry,” he said.
“So I lost Sarah,” she said. “And then I lost Max.”
“Was Sarah your only child?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, we couldn’t ever get pregnant again. We saw several doctors. None of them had an explanation. Before Sarah died, we had talked about adoption, but never pursued it. We both kept hoping we’d get pregnant again.”
“I know that’s painful,” Chris said.
“Max didn’t handle Sarah’s death or our infertility well at all. He just kept getting angrier and angrier and more and more distant,” she said. “He wouldn’t talk about any of it—not about Sarah, not about the pain we both felt of not having another baby.” She paused for a moment. “I tried to get him to talk to someone, to see a counselor, but he wouldn’t do it. Our marriage has been dying a slow, painful death. Like Sarah did.”
Chris slid his chair closer to Michelle’s and put his arm around her shoulder. He hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that,” he said. He let her go, but kept his chair close to hers. “What have you told Max?”
“I told him I’ll be home by the end of the week,” she said. “I feel like I’ve given all I can give though. I don’t know if I can go back.”
They sat quietly
Learning to Kill: Stories