Six Months Of The year
Bill was at sea.
Bill was on his ship.
Bill was on assignment.
So many ways to say where her husband was, what he was doing when he wasn't with her. At their home, in San Diego, pretending to take an active interest in things that weren't nailed down.
Tara rubbed her swollen stomach and stirred a pot of vegetables, while Maggie fussed and Bill cornered his sister. Tara wanted to shoo him away, let the poor woman play with her nephew for awhile.
Six months out of the year, Bill was at sea. And she could be the dutiful sailor's wife, stalwart and keeping hearth and home.
Maggie saw the chilly friendship that their marriage had become. While Bill fought with Dana, his fatherly nature coming out in force, Maggie took Tara's hand and led her upstairs.
She opened her suitcase and pulled something from the folds of her still-unpacked clothes.
"Mistletoe," she whispered, and Tara nodded, confused.
Maggie looked up at Tara, eyes shining. "They're gone for six months out of the year. And for the other six months, you have to do what you can to get the romance back." She winked and handed the sprig to her daughter-in-law.
The next morning, it was Tara doing the winking, and Bill was laughing with his son.