Lambert's Code Page 9

  All they could do was laugh and laugh.

  An hour later, after frying up what was left of the eggs and batter, they stepped outside into cold, crisp air.

  Julie drew a deep breath, the bright sunlight illuminating her face. “I wish I’d brought my cello. I’d put this moment to music.”

  Ethan pulled on his gloves. “What would it sound like?”

  Julie thought for a moment and hummed a few low, smooth notes. “Something like that.”

  “I like it.” He motioned to where a white snowy thread snaked through the trees. “Will said this path goes down to a creek.”

  Julie took his hand. “Let’s go see.”

  Snow crunched under their boots as they walked, resonating in the stillness. Contentment fortified Ethan. They needed this weekend away so they could talk without tension, without argument.

  A sharp gust cut through the trees. The wind carried Julie’s scent and made him think of summer flowers. She’d showered that morning in the closetlike room Will dared to call a bathroom, then dried her hair by the fire. Watching her, his heart beat with awakened love.

  “I’m sorry about the car.” Julie’s green eyes shifted from the narrow path to him.

  “Babe, it’s over. I wanted to get us back on track financially before getting you out of that old heap.”

  “Whose financial track, Ethan?” Julie fell into him.

  “Mine, I guess.” He grabbed her around the waist.

  “Should we sell the car?” She started the monkey walk.

  Ethan fell in step with her. “No, we’re upside down on the value right now. We’re going to be apartment dwellers a little longer than we planned.” He stepped on her toes.

  “Watch it, klutz.” She laughed and tried to step on his booted foot.

  “Okay, Bigfoot.” He skipped out of her way.

  She was silent for a moment, then said, “I really thought I was taking command of my life—” Her words trailed off.

  “You took command all right.” Deep down, he was sort of proud of her. This side of his wife rarely surfaced, and he liked it—only he wished it didn’t cost them so much.

  She faced him, chin jutted out. “All right, Eth, that’s it.”

  “What? I—”

  Before he knew it, she wrapped her arms around his waist and kicked his feet out from under him. He tumbled to the snowy ground, hollering, taking her with him. Suddenly cold snow slipped down his back.

  “Hey, whoa, cold, very cold.” Ethan scrambled away, molding a snowball on the run. He lobbed the white bomb at Julie.

  “Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me.” She danced a jig, making faces at him.

  “Oh really? Now you’ve done it.” Ethan charged her, determined to take her challenge.

  “Ack! Ethan, wait.” Her laughter rang out like a thousand tiny bells as she tried to run.

  Ethan lassoed her with his arms and kissed her with all the emotion his heart contained.

  The creek turned out to be a trickle with not much to see. Ethan took a few pictures with the digital camera he’d stored in his coat pocket. He set the timer, propped the camera on a tree stump, and ran over to where Julie posed. Looking through the snapshots, the top of his head was missing in all of them.

  “Hmm, I wonder if God is trying to tell you something.” Julie jabbed at him with her fingers, chuckling.

  “That I’m a bad photographer?” Ethan deleted the worst of the shots. One, he thought, was worth saving. He wanted a visual memory of this day.

  “No, that you’re losing your head.” She bumped into him, laughing.

  “Funny.” He bumped her back.

  The sun burned high overhead as they walked back to the cabin. Inside, the fire still crackled and warmed the small cabin.

  “Come here.” Ethan motioned for Julie to join him at the hearth. “Grandpa’s been talking to me about Lambert’s Code.”

  “Submitting to one another?”

  Ethan raised a brow. “I see he’s talked to you, too.”

  “Yes, right after I bought the car.”

  “I’m not sure I understand completely, but I want to try. I guess we could communicate better, stop living so independently, consider each other, and remember being married means we each give a hundred percent, not fifty-fifty.”

  Julie regarded him, serious. “No more surprise championship rematches or unplanned stops by the plant?”

  “No surprising me with convertibles or string quartets. Don’t hide the doctor’s bad news from me.”

  “Please, what could possibly be worse than what we already heard?” Julie brushed his brown waves with her fingers.

  “Something that could take you away from me.” Ethan peered into her eyes. “I couldn’t bear it.”

  She snuggled next to him. “Me neither.”

  He reclined on the blanket pallet, stretching his long legs before the fire.

  Julie lay down beside him. “We need to fellowship with other Christians, too.”

  He nodded in agreement. “I admit I’ve missed a few too many Sundays and am a little overly sports minded.”

  “A little? Ha!” Julie rested her hand on his thick chest. “Sometimes I think you love ESPN more than me.”

  “How can you say that? Don’t you know, Julie?” Emotion choked his words.

  “Know what?” She leaned against him.

  “There’s no one like you. No one.”

  “There’s no one like you, Ethan.”

  ❧

  Monday evening, Julie parked Ethan’s car in front of Kit Merewether’s home. He laughed at her when she packed her cello and kissed him good-bye.

  “Where you going with that thing?”

  “Practice at Kit’s.”

  “How are you getting there?”

  Julie made a face at him. “My car.”

  Ethan crossed his arms, waiting. Julie grimaced when realization dawned. Her little two-seater would never do. “Ethan, may I borrow your car?” How could she buy a car that was too small for her cello?

  “Certainly.” His wide grin remained on his face as he gave her the keys and helped wedge the cello case into the backseat.

  Kit’s home glowed with low lights and candles. Trays of finger foods waited on the dining room table.

  “Good evening, all.” Julie embraced Cassie Ferguson and Mike Chason.

  “Good evening, Julie.”

  The first fifteen minutes, they snacked and talked, catching up on each other’s lives. Kit briefed them on her plan for the group. She wanted to play weddings, receptions, parties, and festivals.

  At last Kit picked up her viola and tapped her bow lightly on her music stand. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

  Julie patted her cello case. “Give me a second, Kit.”

  The quartet played together like seasoned musicians, as if they’d played together for years. They laughed at their blunders and complimented each other’s musicianship.

  Toward the end of the evening, while they finished the plate of cheese and crackers, Kit announced their first engagement opportunity.

  “I wanted to hear how we sounded together, but, ladies and gentleman”—she nodded at Mike—“we’ve been invited to play at a wedding.”

  “Where?”

  “When?”

  Kit smiled. Her youthful face concealed her age. “Florida. Three weeks from now. Julie, I think it times perfectly with spring break. You may need to take an extra day off. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, that would be fine.” Florida? Away from winter winds and mountains of snow? Julie loved the idea. She’d lift her face to the sun and squish the soggy sand between her toes.

  Kit explained. “My cousin is getting married for the umpteenth time. She booked a quartet that had to back out. I mentioned our little group, and she invited us down. It’s a paying engagement.”

  Enough said. They agreed with one voice to go. To prepare, Kit planned an extra practice every week until they left.

  “Thursdays?
Does that work for everyone?”

  “Yes.”

  Driving home after discussing the trip to Florida, Julie looked forward to telling Ethan about her evening and of the Merewether Quartet’s first engagement. She’d have the new car paid off in no time.

  Ever since their weekend retreat, their communication was better, though they still seemed to go about their own business.

  The code was not so easy to crack, they decided.

  How did we let ourselves get so far out of balance? Julie wondered. But deep down, she knew the answer. They grew older and matured but forgot to bring their marriage forward with them.

  Then the focus became children. So much mental and emotional energy spent on talking about children, making medical decisions—which treatments to try, which ones to avoid. Did they have the money? Should they continue when the desired results eluded them?

  They sifted through all the parental and family advice, heard her parents yearn for a grandchild. But that was behind them now, at least for a while, Julie thought, turning into the apartment complex. What did God have in store for them? She unlocked the front door. “Ethan?” She lugged her cello to the spare room. “Babe?” He wasn’t in the den or upstairs.

  She found a note in the kitchen. Met Will at Sam’s for dessert. Love you. E

  Julie peered down into the parking lot. Sure enough, Ethan had taken her car. His ferocious bark about the new car morphed quickly to halfhearted yips. He drove the sporty machine at every opportunity.

  Grinning, Julie wandered into the den to check the answering machine. A single red light flashed. She pressed Play.

  “Ethan, Steve Tripleton. Just checking to see if you got the itinerary for Costa Rica. I had my secretary e-mail you—”

  Julie pressed Stop, her heart thumping. What itinerary? Costa Rica?

  Chewing her bottom lip, she pulled open the top desk drawer. Should I look in his stuff? With the tips of her fingers, she pulled the drawer out farther.

  There, on top of the neat pile, she spotted a colorful brochure and the itinerary. She picked it up and scanned for the date. April seventeenth.

  Fuming, she slammed the drawer shut.

  Thirteen

  “Jules, I’m back.” Ethan hung his coat in the closet and strolled toward the office to toss the spare S2000 keys in the desk. “Jules?”

  She came downstairs with her hair wrapped in a towel and green goop on her face. Ethan snickered. “There’s my beauty queen.”

  He maneuvered to slip his arms around her, but she stepped out of his embrace. “Ethan, do you have anything you need to tell me?” She took a bottle of water from the fridge and went to the living room.

  Ethan watched her walk away. Even when she was angry, her body motion, fluid and coordinated, reminded him of a symphony. She’d have been a great athlete.

  “Okay, what’s up?” He reviewed the evening in his head. They had a nice dinner together before she went to quartet practice. He borrowed her car to meet Will for pie, but he didn’t think she would be upset about that since she had his car. So why the cold shoulder?

  She regarded him for a second, water bottle in her hand, then disappeared in the den. When she returned, she dropped his Costa Rica itinerary and the resort brochure on the kitchen counter.

  He slapped his hand against his forehead. “The golf trip? That’s what you’re upset about?” He picked up the printed Web pages.

  “Were you planning to tell me about this trip or just send me a postcard once you got down there? ‘Sorry, babe, I won’t be home for dinner.’ ”

  “Funny. Of course I was going to tell you.”

  “When?”

  He shrugged. “Soon, I guess.” He really didn’t have an answer. He’d forgotten about it. But the excuse sounded lame, even to him.

  “Ethan, what was that speech up at the cabin? Let’s communicate, submit to each other, and remember we’re married. No more fifty-fifty, but a hundred percent. Here you are, going on vacation without me, your wife.”

  “It’s not a vacation; it’s a golf trip.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Ethan.”

  “I’m not. Don’t mother me.”

  “Mother you? I can’t ask why you’re going to Costa Rica with Steve Tripleton?”

  “How did you find out?”

  “He left you a message. Wanted to know if you got the itinerary.” He could see her shaking. “How come you didn’t tell me this last weekend?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged without reason. “I was up to my eyeballs in snow. I wasn’t thinking about sunny golf trips.”

  “Do you expect me to believe you accidentally forgot to tell your wife you were going on a five-day golf vacation to Central America?”

  “No, well, yes. I did forget. And I expect you to believe your husband was going to tell you, eventually.” Ethan rubbed his hand over the back of his head. He didn’t expect to come home to this.

  “So was that big speech just for me? You can do whatever you want, spend whatever money you want, but I can’t?”

  “You know that’s not it, Julie.” He felt on the defensive and didn’t like it.

  “How are you paying for this?”

  “Well, savings.”

  “Without asking me? What about getting on track financially?” She stood in the same place, the same position she did when she brought out the trip info. She had yet to take a sip of her water. “I bought a car; you bought fun.”

  “Do you really want to compare price tags?” Ethan picked up her water and downed half the bottle. “And I was going to tell you.”

  Hands on her hips, Julie asked, “Who are you going with? Besides Steve.”

  “Your dad, actually, and Will.”

  “You’re ashamed of me.” The words came out of nowhere.

  Ethan regarded her, not sure he’d heard correctly. “I’m not ashamed of you. Where’d that come from?”

  “There goes Miss Julie, barren and silly, buys fancy cars ’cause she won’t ever have a baby. One day she’ll be an old lady with a hundred cats.” Julie moved from the living room into the kitchen and jerked another water from the refrigerator.

  “That’s ridiculous and you know it. Do you remember last weekend at all?” Ethan still smiled when pictures of their romantic escape popped into his head: cozy nights in front of the fire, the snowball fight, and trekking through the woods to see a trickle of water Will called a creek.

  “Do I remember? The question is, do you remember? How is it possible that sometime during that weekend, our walks, our talks, the drive up to the cabin, it never occurred to you to tell me about the trip?”

  “I get it, okay? I get it. I’m a cad, so sue me.” Ethan flung his empty water bottle in the trash. “I forgot.”

  “Sophia was right. You are a cad.”

  “You talked to Sophia about this?”

  “No, that’s her general opinion.”

  “You have friends who think I’m a cad?”

  “Get over yourself. You just admitted to being one.” Julie unwrapped the towel from her head as she went toward the stairs. “You broke your word, Ethan.” She bounded up and out of his sight.

  ❧

  When Ethan came upstairs, Julie announced, “I’m going to Florida with Kit and the quartet.”

  She dropped a washcloth under warm water and hung her towel on the towel bar.

  “Florida? When and what for?” Ethan stood behind her, hands on his hips.

  “In three weeks. To play for her cousin’s wedding.” Julie wrung out the cloth and pressed it against her face.

  “And there’s no discussion. You’re just doing it.”

  Wiping the green mask off her face, Julie patted her face dry with a hand towel. “Yes. Just like you and Costa Rica.”

  “When did you find out about this?”

  “Tonight, as a matter of fact. Kit offered our services when the quartet her cousin hired canceled.” Julie flipped her hair over her head and clicked on the hair dryer. He
makes me so mad. . . . Lambert’s Code, indeed. I have to live up to it, but he doesn’t.

  The hair dryer stopped. Julie bolted up to see Ethan with the plug in his hand.

  “What are you doing?” She jerked the plug from him and stuck it back in the socket.

  “I was talking to you.”

  She resisted the temptation to click the machine back on. With her jaw clenched, she set her brush and hair dryer down and walked into the bedroom.

  “Talk.” She flopped down on the bed.

  “Right, like you’re going to listen.” Ethan stood tall, away from the bed.

  Julie struggled against the tears. But her emotions, tender and weak, buckled under the stress. Would their struggle ever end? The chasm looming between them seemed irreparable. Just when things were going well, another issue surfaced, bringing past hurts with it. “You started this, Ethan.”

  “No, you started this with that car purchase.”

  “Which, I note, you don’t mind driving every chance you get.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Are you saying you scheduled the trip to Costa Rica because I bought the car?”

  Ethan propped his elbow on the chest of drawers. “No. I scheduled it—” He stopped.

  Julie slipped off the bed. “You scheduled it before the car?” Realization dawned. “That night at Mom and Dad’s.”

  “I don’t want you to go to Florida.”

  “Why not?” She stood in front of him, arms crossed.

  “Because we’re arguing and stressing. Stay here—work on our relationship.”

  “Okay, then don’t go to Costa Rica.” Seemed simple enough to her.

  “I already put down money.”

  “Ah, I see. You can do what you want, but I can’t.”

  “No, Julie. Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m just saying I’ve already paid money.”

  She stared into his brown eyes for a long moment. Her bottom lip quivered, but she had a clear mind when she said, “We need a break, Ethan.”

  He sighed, running his hand through his dark waves. “You’re right. Let’s take a night together this week.” He stepped toward her and gripped her hand with his hands.