At First Sight - Nicholas Sparks [68]
Lexie’s jaw dropped. “Gee, really?” she asked. “Maybe I should go barefoot and stay pregnant, except when I’m wearing lingerie.”
“Don’t act so indignant.” Doris had turned serious again. “You’re not the only one who has to make a sacrifice when it comes to being a couple. You think you’re getting the short end of the stick? Men have to make sacrifices, too. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you want Jeremy to hold your hand and snuggle as you watch a movie, you want him to share his feelings and listen, you want him to spend time with your daughter and earn enough not only to buy but renovate the house. Well, I’ll tell you straight up that no man says to himself as he’s walking down the aisle, Gee, I’m going to work hard and sacrifice so I can provide a good living for my family, and I’m going to spend hours with my kids even when I’m tired, all the while hugging and kissing and listening to my wife and telling her all my troubles, and meanwhile, I’m not going to expect a single thing.” Doris didn’t wait for a response. “A man promises to do the things to keep you happy in the hopes that you, too, will do the things that keep him happy.”
She reached for Lexie’s hand. “Like I said, you’re in this together. Men have certain needs, women have different needs; that’s the way it was hundreds of years ago, and that’s the way it’s going to be hundreds of years from now. If you both realize that, and you both work on meeting each other’s needs, you’ll have a good marriage. And part of that, for both of you, is trust. In the end, it’s that simple.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”
Doris gave a knowing smile. “Yes, you do. But my hope is that you remember this when you’re married. If you think it’s tough now, wait until then. Just when you think it can’t get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can’t get any better, it will. But as long as you remember that he loves you and you love him—and both of you remember to act that way—you’ll be just fine.”
Lexie mulled over Doris’s words. “I suppose this is the premarriage talk, huh? The one you’ve been saving up for all these years?”
Doris let go of Lexie’s hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose it might have come out eventually, but I didn’t plan on saying all this beforehand. It just came up.”
Lexie was silent as she considered it. “So, you’re sure he’s going to come back?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I know what it means. Believe it or not, I’ve been around the block more than once.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not. Don’t you remember? I’m psychic.”
“You’re a diviner, you’re not psychic.”
Doris shrugged. “Sometimes the feeling comes across exactly the same way.”
Lexie stopped outside of Herbs, squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight. Searching for her keys, she found herself contemplating the wisdom of Doris’s words. It hadn’t been easy hearing her grandmother’s assessment of her situation, but was it ever easy hearing that you might be wrong? Since Jeremy had left her standing on the porch, she’d fumed with self-justification, as if anger might keep her worries in check, but now she couldn’t escape how petty the memory made her feel. She didn’t want to fight with Jeremy; she was as tired of the arguments as he was. This was no way to start their marriage, and she decided it would end here and now. Unlocking her car and sliding behind the wheel, she nodded with determination. She would change if she had to—and also because it was the right thing to do.
Pulling out of the parking lot, she wasn’t sure where to go. Drawn by instinct, however, she soon found herself at the cemetery, standing before the headstones of her parents. Seeing their names carved in granite, she thought of the couple she didn’t remember and tried to imagine what they had been like. Did her mother laugh a lot, or was she quiet? Was her father a fan of football or baseball? Pointless thoughts, but she nonetheless found herself wondering how much like Doris her mother