The Coach House by Florence Osmund Page B

She looked out the window at the two men who were walking away from the lodge towards the parking lot. A man who resembled Richard was doing all the talking and had his arm around the other man’s shoulders. They disappeared behind a row of evergreen trees.
    “Hi! Where have you been?” she asked him when he returned to the room. He had a newspaper tucked up under his arm.
    “Oh, just picking up the paper. Something to read over breakfast. Are you ready to go to the dining room? If we hurry, we can get in one more run before we have to leave for the airport.”
    The knot in her stomach grew quickly. Why would he hide something like just talking with another man? “I’m ready for breakfast, but I’m tired of skiing. I’d rather go into town and do a little shopping if you don’t mind.”
    “Do you want me to go with you?”
    “Not if you’d rather ski.”
    “Are you sure? You won’t mind going alone?”
    “Not at all. You go ski, and I’ll see how good a job I can do shopping,” she said through a forced smile.
    Before heading out on her shopping trip, Marie stopped at the front desk to see what time they needed to be checked out of their room. “By one,” the desk clerk told her. “But it will be crowded then, so if you have a flight to catch or anything, you might want to come down sooner than that. Just about everyone is leaving today due to the snow conditions.”
    “The snow conditions?”
    “You didn’t see the announcement board? All the slopes have been closed for the next forty-eight hours.”
    Marie walked into the lounge and sat down to think about whether she should find Richard since he couldn’t ski. Deciding he would be fine on his own, she stood with a small crowd of other guests waiting for the courtesy car to bring them into town.
    “So how was your morning?” she asked Richard when she returned to their room, arms laden with packages.
    “Great! My best run ever!” He rushed over to her and gave her a hug. “I missed you like crazy.” He looked at her shopping bag. “What did you do, buy out Aspen?” he laughed.
    She stayed in his embrace as long as she could, staring into his chest trying to decide whether to call him on his lie. What is it that he doesn’t want me to know? Is it what he was doing, who he was doing it with, or just the fact that he was doing something other than skiing? She wanted to know what he was up to but knew it could ruin the trip if she confronted him. Even more disappointing, she suspected every time she questioned him about something, it weakened the chances of cultivating the family she so desperately craved.
    She pulled away from him and picked up one of the parcels. “Look! I bought us matching ski goggles for our next trip.” Her voice quivered.
    He examined the goggles. “Very nice,” he said.
    Marie made a sudden exit toward the bathroom. She closed the door and leaned her back up against it, the tension in her face building in preparation for the tears. She waited for the upsetting moment to stop and then splashed her face with cool water, took in a deep breath, and exhaled.
    It was going to be an arduous trip home.
    * * *
    Certain the lies Richard told in Aspen were related to his business, Marie tried to convince herself that he hid things from her for her own good, somehow protecting her. Now, a week later, she wished she had confronted him, but at the time she feared he would have blown up at her and somehow thrown it back in her face, like she was making something out of nothing, like the first time he had blown up at her. They had closed on their new house the week before and moved in together. It was the morning of their wedding day. She remembered it as if it were yesterday.
    It was a cold February morning, and while Richard worked in his home office, Marie had taken a long hot bubble bath before getting dressed for their trip to Crown Point, Indiana where they were to be married. She stepped out of the bathtub into the cool air,