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<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
My day at work began at 9:00 and I woke early to eat breakfast and leave plenty of time to catch the tram. After staying up glued to the television into the early morning hours, Neil rarely woke until the afternoon. Before leaving for work I\u2019d suggest reasons for him to get out of bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome meet me for lunch? You can stop by personnel and remind them you are here still waiting for a job,\u201d I whispered encouragingly, bending over the mess of sheets and blankets to kiss him goodbye.<\/p>\n
\u201cHmm.\u201d He barely lifted his head pursing his lips up to me without opening his eyes.<\/p>\n
When I returned home around 6 PM, he was usually in front of the television. As far as I could tell, his days were spent watching TV, breaking for naps and smoking cigarettes on the small balcony overlooking the neighboring buildings.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t worry, I won\u2019t smoke in the apartment. And I swear to God, I\u2019m quitting as soon as I get a bloody job,\u201d he assured me.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t expect living with a boyfriend to be an easy adjustment, but nagging doubts followed me out the door each morning. Was he really the guy for me? What if he never<\/em> got his act together? I rationalized that everyone goes through periods of doubt in relationships especially during down times. I\u2019d also had a tough time when I left Bosnia. I needed to support him through his. This is what couples do.<\/p>\n Rather than search through my messy shoulder bag for my key, I rang the bell so Neil would have to buzz me, decreasing the chance of finding him still asleep in bed like I had earlier in the week. Today, my worry was unwarranted. Neil greeted me at the apartment door fully dressed.<\/p>\n \u201cWelcome home, my darling,\u201d he kissed me then guided me into the dining room where the table was set with candles, silver, napkins and wine glasses. The apartment was filled with smells of garlic and rosemary.<\/p>\n \u201cAw! How lovely! I guess you kept yourself busy today.\u201d As the words slipped out, I berated myself for the innuendo.<\/p>\n \u201cI had to do something! I\u2019m going mad just sitting around. You know, I\u2019m a real grafter. I need to be working. When are they going to call me? Never mind, I won\u2019t spoil our evening. Today was a good day! I went down to the market and picked up some gorgeous veg and stopped into the butcher next to the square. Turns out, the butcher speaks German so that was handy. Wait until you see the steaks! Tonight my dear, you are eating like a Queen!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t wait. Let me go wash my hands. I\u2019ll be right there.\u201d I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I shouldn\u2019t doubt him. He\u2019d just given voice to all my worries. We just needed to get him a job. I shook my hands and reached for one of the hand towels neatly folded next to the sink. These little touches were so charming. He kept a great home. For the first time in my life I shared a home with my lover \u2013 I needed to learn to relax and enjoy it. What was there to worry about? He would get a job soon. I made plenty of money. I should give him time and just relax and enjoy being taken care of. Folding the hand towel, I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled before joining Neil in at the table. He pulled out my chair and bowed while handing me a white linen napkin.<\/p>\n \u201cFor your starter, there\u2019s boeuf consomm\u00e9,\u201d he said in a terrible French accent.<\/p>\n \u201cWow! Did you make it?\u201d A clear broth with snips of chive steamed in the white china.<\/p>\n \u201cIf you call opening a can \u2018making it\u2019, yes!\u201d<\/p>\n The steam from the hot broth smelled nourishing and tasted of beef. With a flourish he replaced my empty bowl with a plate of tiny roasted potatoes, brightly colored green beans with a drizzle of butter and a massive steak that sliced easily and was beautifully pink. I closed my eyes in pleasure as I slowly chewed the tender meat with just the right amount of saltiness.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t remember the last time I ate such a delicious meal, even when we were in Italy!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSee! And they say the English can\u2019t cook! You just wait and see the special meals I\u2019ll make for you, my darling!\u201d<\/p>\n We ate and filled each other\u2019s wine glasses until the bottle was finished, then kissed over our empty plates until he lifted me from my chair, and with one hand, left my summery-skirt and blouse strewn across the floor on the way to the bedroom.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Some evenings we walked into the center of the city to sit at cafes on the main square. Neil gripped my hand as we sauntered down the narrow sidewalks, pausing to peer into shop windows. Zagreb felt like any normal European town with couples and families milling around the fountains, children chasing pigeons. It was easy to forget that only miles away, Bosnia was imploding. We sometimes rented a car and drove out of the city on weekends. I loved these adventures although Neil\u2019s driving sometimes terrified me.<\/p>\n One Saturday as we hurtled towards the Croatian coast at his usual breakneck speed, the road twisting in an endless arc, up and down hills – trees, rocky cliffs, houses only a blur, I followed every curve of the road as if my visual vigilance might avoid the horrendous accident lurking in my imagination. When did I become such a worrier? The threat of shelling and snipers in Sarajevo never made me as anxious as Neil\u2019s driving. I was sure he would kill us on these picturesque roads. Careening along the narrow route, I tried to believe, as he told me, that he was an excellent driver. The best. This is just the way they drive in Europe, I told myself gripping my seat for dear life.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease slow down. You\u2019re making me really nervous!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEveryone drives this speed! It\u2019s dangerous if you go any slower, I promise you. Don\u2019t worry, love, you won\u2019t find a better driver than me,\u201d he said, squeezing my knee reassuringly. He lit a cigarette and sucked hard, holding his breath until he\u2019d opened the window to release the cloud of smoke. He knew I hated the smell but I was so nervous I was barely breathing anyway. Only a few months ago, I appreciated Neil\u2019s driving as he flew through Sarajevo and Central Bosnia, the better to dodge bullets. Now on these peaceful roads, it felt insane.<\/p>\n A pattern of light shimmered through the trees onto the pavement. The scent of sea and eucalyptus meant we were almost there. I closed my eyes and turned my head towards my open window, inhaling the reassuring fragrance. I thought about our destination. Maybe the Adriatic Sea would be warm enough to swim in.<\/p>\n Bang! My body lurched to the left hard against the belt, my neck snapping like a whip. With the sickening violence of scraping metal against metal we came to a stop.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you all right? Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?\u201d Neil asked, frantically checking me for injury.<\/p>\n \u201cI think I\u2019m fine. Maybe my neck, but\u2026are you okay? What the hell happened?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t see him coming. I couldn\u2019t even see there was a bloody road there.\u201d<\/p>\n Shaking, I got out of the car. Neil went to the other vehicle. A Croatian couple with a young boy got out of the Mercedes, apparently uninjured and their tank-like old clunker was only minimally damaged. The front-end on the passenger side of our rental car was completely crumpled in against the tire. The family, perhaps thinking they might be held responsible and maybe unaware of Neil\u2019s outrageous speed, left hurriedly, promising to call us a taxi from a nearby village.<\/p>\n Circling the wreckage of our car I exclaimed, \u201cWe could have been killed!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know. We are bloody lucky.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLucky? Luck has nothing to do with it, Neil. Your driving was crazy. You were careless with both of our lives. You were going way too fast. You always <\/em>drive too fast!\u201d<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t respond, his lips drawn into a thin line and his eyes downcast. He unloaded our bags and put them by the side of the road.<\/p>\n \u201cI mean do you have a death wish or something? You <\/em>may have, but I <\/em>don\u2019t so please leave me out of it!\u201d In our months together, I had yet to lose my temper but now could not contain myself.<\/p>\n \u201cThe taxi\u2019s here,\u201d he said, picking our bags up, hurrying to get away from the site of disaster and my wrath.<\/p>\n The taxi dropped us at a small hotel perched at the edge of the water on a cobblestone street. Neil stayed in the lobby to call the car rental company and deal with the mess he had made while I escaped upstairs, still trembling. Our room glistened with light from the Adriatic Sea, so close to our windows that waves seemed to be crashing against the foundation of the hotel. A stunning spot – but how could I possibly enjoy it now? My neck was already stiff. Suddenly exhausted, I climbed into the bed. Burying my face in the pillows, I curled into a fetal position, my back to the door.<\/p>\n When Neil came into the room and dropped our bags in a corner with a thud, I pretended to be sleeping. Without a word, he climbed in next to me. The bed sagged under his heft and I clung to the mattress edge to avoid sliding towards him. The accident replayed itself in my head, speeding around that blind curve and the crushing sound of metal against metal echoing again and again. Finally, I slept, waking often from disturbing dreams involving speed and fleeing.<\/p>\n The next morning, I woke to slapping waves and momentarily felt happy until I felt my body aches and the accident edged back into my consciousness. I tried to visualize the slow-motion images washing away with the tide. Turning in bed, I looked at Neil\u2019s back. I would make peace. Stroking the hair cut short against his neck, I sidled up behind him and whispered \u201cCome for a walk with me. It\u2019s a gorgeous morning.\u201d<\/p>\n Rolling towards me without opening his eyes, he kissed the air answering,<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m going to sleep a little longer. You go. I\u2019ll find you in a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n I drew back from him and yesterday\u2019s anger flooded in the space between us. Throwing the blankets aside, I jumped out of bed.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t bother. I\u2019ll just walk by myself. You go ahead and keep sleeping,\u201d I said, silently added \u2018jerk\u2019 to myself and quickly pulled a pair of jeans on. As usual, he probably wouldn\u2019t get out of bed until almost noon. I let the door slam behind me as I flounced out of the room.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The sky and sea were a wash of blue. I jogged towards the water, filling my lungs with briny air. Climbing onto a rock, I sat down and rolled up my jeans, savoring the heat on my calves. Edging down the sloping stone, I slid my feet into the icy water. Not even the Caribbean was as dazzling as the Adriatic Sea with its magical blend of greens and blues. I tried to focus on all this beauty to calm my doubting heart.<\/p>\n Lately, there were things that bugged me about Neil, but sleeping all the time was the worst of it. No matter how I cajoled him, he rarely got up with me in the morning. And it\u2019s not like we were having any great action in bed either or I\u2019d be there with him. As movie star handsome and affectionate as he was, with his sweet way of wrapping his body around mine at night and not letting go, that crazy, intense electricity I always associated with love, was missing. Recently, too many nights he simply kissed me and continued to watch television while I slid between the sheets alone.<\/p>\n I stepped off the rock onto the beach and kicking stones along the way, walked to the end of a sandy stretch to a jetty. I sat against a boulder, the warmth seeping into my sore back. I rubbed my neck, stretched my legs out, closed my eyes and turned my face to the sun. A fishing boat chugging out towards the horizon made the only sound besides the waves.<\/p>\n Yesterday\u2019s crash replayed itself again and again. I opened my eyes and looked at the horizon. It had been an accident<\/em>. The roads were treacherous – anyone could have crashed on that blind curve. Why did I get so upset with him? I couldn\u2019t have it both ways: Neil\u2019s crazy fearlessness made my last cold months in Bosnia bearable. Shelling or gun battles never daunted him, he protected me, always sleeping nearest the window and covering me with bulletproof vests at the first cracking sound. And he left his exciting job in Sarajevo to follow me, quit his job to be with me – I mean, how many guys would do that? I shouldn\u2019t be upset with him for loving me so much. Funny, warm, generous, affectionate, considerate: Neil had practically all the qualities I wanted in a man. Of course I hated his constant smoking but he never smoked in the apartment and swore he would quit as soon as he was working. We were both stressed by his unemployment and he was a little depressed, that\u2019s all. I picked up and released fistfuls of warm sand.<\/p>\n Besides, if I wanted a family I needed to get started. Neil promised children and continued adventures. Isn\u2019t that exactly what I had wanted? I just needed to adjust to living with someone, to loosen up a bit. I stood up and walked to the water, wiggling my toes, I watched them disappear beneath the stones until the freezing temperature began to hurt. Leaping back onto the beach, I headed back to the hotel. Surely, this new anxiety knotting my gut since we\u2019d lived together was about my own issues and fears and these would probably go away when Neil found a job. I headed back towards the hotel, the sand slipping beneath my feet.<\/p>\n \u201cGood morning beautiful! I\u2019ve been waiting for you,\u201d Neil called to me from a little table set against a sunny wall of the hotel, the waves of the sea breaking only a few feet away.<\/p>\n \u201cActually, it\u2019s afternoon by now.\u201d I wanted to retract my snide retort as soon it came out, but Neil took no notice. He gallantly waved me into the chair next to him.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t remember seeing this table here before,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cI know. I had the guy from the caf\u2019 help me carry it all out. What a waste that they don\u2019t use this spot, I mean, look at the view!\u201d he got up and slid the chair beneath me and kissed the top of my head.<\/p>\n The table wobbled on the cobblestones as I reached for the cup of cappuccino. How many guys would bother to set up this romantic scene at this hour of the day? He never failed to surprise me when I least expected it. I looked at him, wide-awake and smiling at me. Nuzzling my cheek, he whispered, \u201cLet\u2019s enjoy this beautiful day together, shall we?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d I smiled back at him, my worries already washed away with the waves.<\/p>\n It was simple: he loved me and shared my longing to have a baby. He would start working again and everything would be fine.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My day at work began at 9:00 and I woke early to eat breakfast and leave plenty of time to catch the tram. After staying up glued to the television into the early morning hours, Neil rarely woke until the afternoon. Before leaving for work I\u2019d suggest reasons for him to get out of … Continue reading Chapter 8<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6148","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pPzTS-1Ba","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6148","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6148"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6148\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6152,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6148\/revisions\/6152"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6148"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6148"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6148"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}