Happily Ever Ninja(24)

“Oh! You guys should go.”

Greg pressed his lips together in a flat line. “I can’t. I’ll still be on assignment.”

I contemplated his statement for a long moment. It seemed terribly unfair to Grace and Jack. They shouldn’t miss out on a camping and fishing trip because Greg was going to be gone.

So I spoke and thought at the same time, “Maybe I’ll go. Maybe I’ll take the kids and we’ll go.”

My statement surprised him; but his surprise morphed into an unhappy glare before he could disguise it. He straightened and, sounding like he was fighting to keep his voice even, said, “Absolutely. I mean, why not?”

“I like to camp,” I rationalized, my eyes settling on where Drew and Alex were chatting across the room.

“I know.”

Not liking the edge in his tone, I further explained my thinking. “It would be fun with Drew and Alex. I bet Drew could teach the kids all kinds of things about foraging and wilderness survival.”

“I could, too. If you recall, I was a Marine.”

“Yes, you could. But you’re never here.” I winced as soon as the words were out of my mouth, realizing too late how they might be interpreted. “I mean—of course you’re not here. You’re working. I didn’t mean it like—”

“I know. You didn’t say anything untrue. You’re right, I’m never here.” Not looking at me, Greg crossed his arms then uncrossed them, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Honey—”

He cut me off again, pointing a massive frown at the dish full of food in my hands. “Is there anything on the buffet that looks appetizing to you? I’ll get you another plate.”

Not waiting for me to respond, Greg took the food out of my hands and turned toward the kitchen, walking away before I could sort through my mess of thoughts. My words sounded accusatory. Accusatory hadn’t been my intention. Not at all. Not even a little.

At one time, his job—more precisely, the location of his job—had been a source of anxiety in our marriage. But we’d resolved those issues years ago. As far as I was concerned, this subject was closed and I’d moved on, accepted his absence as a constant, inescapable fact of our life together.

“I love how he loves you.” Kat’s statement—imbued with more than a hint of wistfulness—alerted me that she and Sandra had returned. I glanced at her and found her eyes were following Greg’s retreating form.

I paused to examine her before asking, “Because he took my food away?”

“Because he noticed you weren’t eating the food on your plate, and you’re looking a little pale,” Sandra clarified, her green eyes alight with mischief. Though, to be fair, she almost always looked like she was up to something.

“I’m just tired,” I admitted. The last few weeks were catching up with me.

“He noticed that, too. That’s why he asked how much longer you wanted to stay. He’s worried about you,” Sandra said, further explaining her interpretation of Greg’s actions. Sandra’s interpretations were typically correct.

Now I paused to examine Sandra, considering the likelihood that she was correct. I replayed the last several minutes with Greg based on this new perspective.

At length I asked, “How do you do that?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Do what?”

“We’ve been married for almost one and a half decades and I didn’t pick up on any of that.”

“It’s because you’re tired, and . . . ” she titled her head to the side, her eyes moving over my face, her brows slowly drawing together as she studied me, “you’re overwhelmed.”

“When people are overwhelmed, they can’t see past their own campfire.” Ashley sauntered up to our trio, saying these words like she was quoting someone. She confirmed my suspicion by adding, “My momma used to say that, and if you want my opinion, Greg is right to be worried. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but no sound came out. I didn’t know how to respond, because I’d never discovered a satisfactory response to this kind of statement. Maybe I had been pushing myself too hard, but what was I supposed to do instead? What was the alternative? Not take care of my children? That was lunacy. Not work? We needed the money. Not keep the house running and in working order? None of my obligations were optional. Neglect personal hygiene? I doubt that’s what they were insinuating.

Eventually, I closed my mouth and shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Sandra wrinkled her nose at me. “Sometimes I wonder about you, Fiona.”