Till Summer Do Us Part

by Meghan Quinn

“Something we tend to forget when married, that we’re tied together in all aspects. What one partner might do affects the other. Whether good or bad. One move tugs on the other and vice versa. That’s why when we’re making our way through life, we need to be aware that our every move is tied to our loved one. We need to be conscious of that.”

And then, in the creepiest voice I think I’ve ever heard, a voice that will haunt me in my dreams until the day I die, she says, “Come out, come out wherever you are. We’re ready to play with you.” “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shout and then shake her off me. “Jesus Christ, Scottie, it’s probably just a smoke detector needing a new battery.” She lets that process for a second and then stands taller. “Huh, you know, I never thought about that.” “No, instead, you go right to trying to beat someone with a ten-pound dildo.”

🤭

“I think it’s in your nightstand,” I say. “Really?” she asks, clawing at my shirt. “Well, go…go look.” I’m about to reach for the handle to pull it open, but she stops me. “Wait, use this,” she says, holding the dildo out to me. “No.” “I’m serious,” she says, stopping me from opening the drawer. “You might need to bludgeon something to death, whatever it is.” “I’m not going to bludgeon whatever is inside. Jesus.” I lean forward, grip the drawer pull, and feel her tense behind me as her free hand claws at my shirt. When I pull the drawer open, whatever is inside dings one more time. Scottie screams bloody murder, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me while she tosses the dildo into the drawer and then takes off into the bathroom, where the door shuts and the lock clicks. “You’re on your own,” she yells through the crack. Wow. What a wife.

Giggles 🤭

“Oh really?” he says, stepping up. “So when you asked me to pick you up pads with wings, did I not deliver?” My face falls flat. “You came back with pads…and buffalo wings.” “That’s what you said, pads with wings.” He turns to Sanders, whose eyes are bouncing back and forth between the two of us. “She said pads with wings! What the hell am I supposed to assume?”

Their improv bickering was the best

“Don’t you dare say it,” Wilder says, shaking his head. “Don’t you fucking dare.” I run my tongue over my teeth and very slowly and deliberately say, “Bologna.” His nostrils flare. His chest heaves. And in a very maniacal voice, his eyes boring holes into me, he says, “You son of a bitch.” “I think we should all take a moment to remember the breathing exercises we learned a few seconds ago,” Sanders says. But Wilder holds his hand out to him. “You stay out of this.” Then he gets close to me and whispers, “Say it again. I dare you.” Wetting my lips, I lean even closer and whisper, “Bologna.” “You…strumpet.” “Bologna, bologna, bologna.” “No!” he screeches, holding his hands to his ears. “Don’t you dare Beetlejuice me. Don’t you fucking dare.” He glances over his back, checking around the room. “Is it here? Is he here?” I point off to the window and yell, “There he is.” Wilder lets out an ear-splitting scream and then falls to the ground and shimmies under the coffee table. “You devil woman.”

😆😆

Thankfully, Wilder steps in and says, “Even when she’s mad at me, she kisses me good night. Every night. I think it’s her way of saying that we might have a lot of animosity, but there’s still love there. She…she gives me hope, and that’s why I’m here.” I wet my lips and look Wilder in the eyes. “He reminds me to not be so serious all the time, that there is more to life than just the day-to-day. That it’s okay to break routine. To let loose. To be the person that maybe I hold back from being.” And isn’t that the most honest thing I’ve said through this entire obstacle course?

Together, we lean over to look inside, and then at the same time, we both gasp. I’m the first to reach into the box as I pull out two big bags of Nerds Clusters. I raise them to the sky and say, “The angels have spoken!” “Dear God in heaven,” she whispers as she pulls out another bag from the box. “We are rich!” We tear into our respective bags immediately, putting a fistful in our mouths. Chewing, she says, “Now this is the kind of prize I’m talking about. Screw the dildos, give me the Clusters.” I pause as I’m about to put another fistful in my mouth. “You heard what you just said, right? Screw the dildos? Sorry to let you know, Pips, but that’s what you’re supposed to do.” “Please don’t ruin this moment for me.” She pops another Nerds Cluster in her mouth. Smiling, I do the same.

Nerd clusters 😍

“Holding information out of fear is the biggest form of miscommunication, but it’s also the most common. Every relationship, no matter how excellent you are at talking to your partner, experiences a form of miscommunication. It’s human nature. We become guarded, we don’t want to get hurt, we’re unsure of how the other person is going to respond, so we hold our cards close to our chest. We don’t tell the entire truth, which always hurts the relationship in the long run.