Save Me Once

CHAPTER

CHAPTER

Drisklay hated ties. The only thing more insufferable than this four-day marriage seminar was dressing up in formal wear. The truth was he was only here because his wife begged incessantly. He swore he’d never go to a stupid marriage seminar, no matter how severely his wife nagged.

And yet here they were.

Las Vegas. With its neon lights, the so-called entertainment capital of the world.

Somehow, his wife had decided this was the place to renew their love for one another. Not exactly what he would have expected from her. Caroline was more the stay-in-a-cabin-and-read-a-dozen-novels kind of vacationer. Or hop on a flight to serve orphans overseas. The type who believed in prayer and miracles.

She could believe in that garbage if it made her sleep better at night. Drisklay knew better. Miracles were reserved for fairy tales and myths. Placebos at best. Delusions of madmen at worst.

But he wouldn’t argue the point with her. In fact, he made Caroline promise that if he agreed to come with her to this silly Vegas conference, she wouldn’t bring up religion.

Not even once.

No praying out loud before meals. No late nights in bed asking if he wanted to talk about the state of his soul. No Bible verses grotesquely inserted into random conversations, forced and awkward and full of hostility.

And surprisingly, she’d held up her side of the bargain. Granted, the conference wasn’t over yet. But he’d been pleasantly surprised to find a refreshing absence of references to God, the Bible, and his wife’s nagging reminders that he was a sinner destined to spend an eternity in hell.

Oh, Caroline.

Which brought him back to his curiosity that she picked a conference here of all places. Didn’t Christians have to swear off all sorts of vices? And Vegas was dripping with them. Gambling, drinking, secondhand smoke ... weren’t those all no-no’s on God’s holy list of not-to-dos?

Well, as long as Caroline didn’t force-feed him Scripture, as long as Drisklay got a short reprieve from the constant barrage of Bible verses and morality lessons, he was happy.

Happy enough, that is.

Sure, today’s conference speakers were just as inept as he’d expected them to be. If you followed their six steps to a happy marriage, you and your spouse could look as sappy and romantic as they claimed to be. But who wanted to live like that?

Here, sweetie, let me take out the trash for you tonight.

Oh, dearest, you’re such a darling. I love you so much.

No, my love, it is I who adore you.

And so on and so on, ad nauseum. Literally.

He hoped Caroline didn’t expect too much out of this week. Maybe if Drisklay was a stay-at-home dad or a day trader who worked in his sweats, he’d have time and energy at night to be Mr. Helpful around the house. But he had work to do. Real work. The people of Boston depended on him for their safety. Caroline understood. Didn’t that new religion of hers teach her the concept of sacrifice? Well, here he was, sacrificing his own time every single day, not to mention his safety and physical health. He’d lost a kidney after a knife attack last year for crying out loud. He was making those concessions so the people of Boston could sleep peacefully at night. And if that meant he came home tired and grumpy and in no mood to fix a faulty garbage disposal, she had no right to complain.

“Here’s your stop.” The taxi driver had a scruffy beard and a slight accent Drisklay couldn’t place. Probably not foreign, but an American dialect you didn’t hear regularly out on the East Coast. Calvin swiped his credit card, and the cabbie smiled. “Have a good evening.”

Drisklay grunted and waited for his wife to step out of the car before shutting the door behind her.

Caroline looked nice tonight. He’d give her that much at least. For a woman in her mid-fifties, she still knew how to take care of herself. She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a little timid smile. He hated that look, truth be told. The worry. The unspoken apology. The I’m-a-Christian-now-so-I-can’t-have-any-more-fun look.

He let out his breath. “Well, you ready?”

She forced a smile and whispered, “I’m so glad we’re doing this.” He wasn’t sure if she was talking about their dinner out specifically or their trip to Vegas in general, but at least she was happy. And that meant something to him.

Drisklay knew he was no real catch. He was rude. He took his wife for granted. He’d made her cry on more than one occasion.

But he did want her to be happy.

She deserved that much, at the very least.