“Look, we didn't want a big wedding. Is that a crime? Big ceremonies make Steven nervous. What's such a big deal about that? I'm twenty-nine years old, I should be able to get married any damn way I want to.”
“Why do you have to hurt Mom and Dad? Can't you make an effort for once in your life? You live three thousand miles away, you do whatever you please. You're never here to help them, or to do anything for them. …” Her voice had trailed off accusingly as Adrian stared at her, wondering at just how much bitterness was building up between them, and how much worse it was going to get. In recent years, their relationship had begun to seriously depress her.
“They're sixty-two and sixty-five years old, how much help do they need?” Adrian asked, and Connie looked livid.
“A lot. Charlie comes over and shovels Dad's car out every time it snows. Did you ever think of that?” There were tears in Connie's eyes, and Adrian had had an overwhelming urge to slap her.
“Maybe they should move to Florida, and make things easier for both of us,” Adrian had said quietly, as Connie burst into tears.
“That's all you know about, isn't it? Running away. Hiding on the other side of the country.”
“Connie, I'm not hiding. I have a life out there.”
“Doing what? Working as a gofer on production crews? That's crap and you know it. Grow up, Adrian. Be like the rest of us, be a wife, have kids, if you're going to work, then at least do something worthwhile. But at least stand up and be normal.”
“Like who? Like you? Are you 'normal' because you were a nurse before you had kids, and I'm not okay because I have a job you don't understand? Well, maybe you'll like my newsroom job better. It's called 'production assistant,' maybe you can understand that a little better.” But she hated the venom that had crept into their relationship over the years, the bitterness, the jealousy. They had never been close, but at least early on they had been friends, or pretended to be. Now the veneer appeared to have worn off, and there was nothing left but Connie's anger that Adrian was gone, and free, and doing what she wanted in California. And Adrian didn't tell them that she and Steven had agreed not to have children. It was something that meant a lot to him, after the horrors of his childhood. Adrian didn't agree with him, but she knew he blamed his parents' misery on the fact that they had children, or certainly too many of them. But he had told her long since that children were not on his agenda, and he wanted to be sure that Adrian was in full agreement. He had talked more than once about having a vasectomy, but they were both afraid that if he did, there might be physical repercussions. He had urged her to have her tubes tied instead, but she had hedged about it because it seemed so radical, and finally they had settled on alternate methods of assuring that they wouldn't have children. It made Adrian sad sometimes to think of never having children of her own, and yet it was a sacrifice she was willing to make for him. She knew how important it was to him. He wanted to pursue his career without encumbrances, and he wanted her to be free to pursue hers too. He was extremely supportive of her work. And she had come to like working in TV news over the past three years, but she still missed her old shows occasionally, her TV films and miniseries and specials. And more than once, she had talked about leaving the news and getting a production job on a series.
“And when they cancel it?” Steven always said. “Then what? You're on the unemployment line, you're back to square one. Stick with the news, sweetheart, it's never going to be canceled.” He had a horror of losing jobs, being out of work, losing opportunities, or not following a stellar route right to the top. Steven always kept his eye on his goals, and his goals were always at the top. And they both knew he was going to make it.
The past two and a half years of marriage had been full for both of them. They had worked hard, done well, made some friends, he had traveled a lot in the past year, and the previous year, they had bought a really lovely condo. It was just the right size for them, a town house with a second bedroom they used as a den, a big bedroom upstairs, a living room, dining room, and a big kitchen. Adrian liked to putter in the tiny garden on the weekends. There was a pool for, the entire complex to use, a tennis court, and a two-car garage for her MG, and his shiny new black Porsche. He still tried to get her to sell her car, but she never would. She had bought it used when she went to Stanford thirteen years before, and she still loved it. Adrian was someone who loved to hang on to old things, and Steven was someone who was always seeking what was newest. And yet, together they were a good team. He gave her an extra sense of drive and push that she might not have had to the same extent if she'd been on her own, and she softened his sharp edges just a little. Not enough for everyone. Her sister, Connie, and her brother-in-law, Charles, still hated him, and her parents had never come to love him. It had affected Adrian's relationship with them, and it pained her to realize at times how distant she had grown from them. But in spite of her love for them, she felt that she owed her principal allegiance to Steven. He was the man whose bed she shared, whose life she was helping to build, whose future she was forging. And no matter how much she loved them, they were her past, and he was her present and her future. Her parents understood it, too, they no longer asked when she and Steven were coming east. And they had even stopped nagging her in the past year about when she and Steven were going to have children. She had finally told Connie that they didn't want kids, and she was sure that her sister had passed the word on to her parents. Adrian and Steven's whole relationship seemed unnatural to them, in their eyes Steven and Adrian were two egocentric young hedonists living in the fast lane in California, and it was hopeless trying to explain a different viewpoint to them. It was easier just not to talk too often, and Adrian's parents no longer volunteered to come out for a visit.
But Adrian wasn't thinking of her parents as she took the Fairfax Avenue exit off the Santa Monica Freeway late that night. All she could think of was Steven. She knew how tired he was going to be, but she had bought a bottle of white wine, some cheese, and the makings of a fine omelet for him. And she was smiling as she slid the car into the garage next to his Porsche. He was home and she was only sorry she hadn't been able to pick him up at the airport. She had had to work the late shift as she often did, standing in for the producer of the late news, since she was his number one assistant. It was an interesting job, and she liked it, but there were times when it was also very wearing.
Her key turned easily in the lock, and she could see that all the lights were on as she opened the door, but at first she didn't see him.
“Hello! …anyone home? …” The stereo was on, and his suitcase was in the hall, but she didn't see his briefcase, and then she saw him, in the kitchen, on the phone, his handsome mane of almost jet-black hair full and slightly disheveled, his head bent as he took notes, and she suspected he was talking to his boss. He didn't even seem to see her as he wrote and talked, and she walked over, put her arms around him, and kissed him. He glanced down at her with a smile, and gently kissed her full on the lips, as he continued listening to his boss without missing a beat for a moment. And then he gently pushed her away as he went on talking.