Lunch ruined what had been a pleasant morning spent boating around Lake Luzern. It was her idea to go out on the cruise and for once, he agreed without suggesting something else. Maybe it was the breakfast buffet. He was really digging the Nutella and croissants, plus the coffee was out of this world.
“This coffee is out of this world,” he said at breakfast. “Why don’t we order more lattes at home?”
“Lattes in the States don’t taste like this, Sweetie,” she said while staring down at her iPhone. He was annoyed she was looking at her phone but excited that she called him “Sweetie”. He couldn’t remember the last time she used that word to describe him.
Satiated from breakfast they strolled out of their hotel into a scene that was almost too precious. The covered wooden bridge, the colorful Alpine buildings, the impossibly clean cobble stone streets, all made Luzern seem otherworldly. This was a town plucked from a childhood fairy tale. It was the exception that proved that rule — the planet may be beyond fucked, but there was still a place whose beauty could take your breath away.
They took the long way to the dock, enjoying the morning sun. The kids were thousands of miles away, safe with Grandparents. For the first time that either of them could remember they had spent two consecutive nights alone, together. There was rust on their ability to enjoy just themselves, but it was slowly flaking off.
She walked slightly ahead of him. He wanted to hold her hand, but worried that it would seem insincere. As he watched her stride in the brisk morning wind, he marveled at her posture. How could someone who carried the weight of their family for so long, still stand up so straight? Her strength, despite everything, amazed him.
As they crossed the final street before the dock, she glanced briefly at him. For a second, her eyes sparkled like they had when they met. Back then, they would light up for hours like an out-of-control chemical fire. Now they flamed out faster than backyard fireworks.
They boarded the boat along with a mix of camera infected tourists and retirees. He found them a couple of wooden lounge chairs that had been graciously set up on the stern of the boat. As the boat departed, the autumn air started conspiring against them. They both looked up to the sun, which appeared to hear their silent plea. They both felt warmer. It was perfect.
She excused herself a few minutes into the ride and came back with two large beers.
“It’s 11:15 in the morning,” he said as she handed him his drink.
“So what? We’re on vacation,” she replied with a smile. If his comment annoyed her, she wasn’t going to show it. “Cheers!”
They clicked glasses and the boat ride became that much better. It didn’t seem possible, but Luzern looked even more stunning from the water. The boat bounced from town to town around the lake, each village cuter than the last. Their conversation touched on the most serious subjects of the day: the value of their 401(k)s, an upcoming trip to Disneyworld, their daughter’s terrible soccer team, and whether she should stay at the ad agency.
They were tempted to get off the boat a few times, but were just too comfortable in the lounge chairs to muster a serious effort. Brunnen was the most tempting, but they still didn’t budge.
“You know,” she said while holding her hands up to her eyebrows in attempt to get a better look at the town, “I read that Winston Churchill honeymooned in Brunnen.”
“Really?” he replied. “Well, I think we should stay calm and float on.” He didn’t wait to hear her groan at his terrible joke. Instead, he got up and brought back the next round of beers.
She watched him walk away. He had grown older, but had barely matured. She liked the graying of his sideburns, but found it hard to look at the lines that were spreading across his face as if his eyes were the epicenter of an earthquake.
For the most part, life had played out as she thought it would. They were better off than 99% of the world. They could, sort of, afford this European vacation. They were comfortable, but that didn’t mean there weren’t missed opportunities.
She thought back to her dream of being an FBI Profiler. It didn’t work out and she moved on, but she never really let it go. There was still a part of her that felt like she was playing a part in someone else’s play. It was a fine role, but she wanted final edit on the script.
He returned with two more beers. “Cheers,” they said simultaneously and clicked glasses again.
On the ride back, they once again broached the most critical subjects of their time: was it time to remodel the basement, their son’s request for an iPad, how much credit card debt they were going to have after this trip, and whether he should go back to work full-time.
By the time they landed back in Luzern, both of them were slightly buzzed and very hungry. They had gorged themselves on Swiss food the night before, so it was an easy decision to sit down at an Italian café just a couple hundred meters away from the docks. They still had a great view of the lake and they both flashed smiles when the waiter dropped off menus.
They quickly placed order for two more beers and the waiter departed. After a quick scan of the menu, he decided on the rocket pizza. In his mind, nothing was better on pizza than arugula.
“Do you want to split a pizza?’ she asked. “I think the Funghi looks good.”
He sighed.
“Well, I, yeah, sure we can split one,” he finally replied without looking up from the menu.
“We don’t have to. It was just an idea.”
“No, it’s fine. Let’s split something.”
“Seriously, we don’t have to split anything. Just get what you want. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fucking fine. I’ll have whatever. You just decide.”
He immediately regretted swearing. She glared at him with an intensity that showed she was more mad than hurt.
“I don’t want pizza anymore,” she said matter-of-factly. “Order whatever you want.”
They barely talked to each other during the rest of lunch. He ended up ordering the pizza he wanted and she ordered gnocchi in a gorgonzola sauce that instantly made him jealous. On a few occasions, he almost apologized, but the words either got crumpled between bites of pizza or washed away by swigs of beer.
She tried her hardest not to even look at him. On the few occasions their eyes did meet, she looked like she was staring at an injured bird that had just flown into a sliding glass door.
He paid the bill, not exactly sure what was going to happen next. Had he ruined their entire vacation? As they walked out from the patio, he raced around to stand in front of her.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you are,” she said while stepping around him. He shook his head and tried to think of something, anything else to say. Nothing came to mind, so instead he followed her back towards the lake. She sat down on a park bench. He sat down on the bench as well, but as far away from her as possible.
After a couple minutes of sitting there, he scooted over a couple inches. She didn’t budge. Neither of them spoke. The lake shimmered as the wind and sun battled for supremacy. A few times, they both were tempted to break the silence, but let it go. Not because they didn’t have anything to say, but because they didn’t have to say anything.
Time passed. Maybe it was a few minutes. Maybe it was a few hours. She finally stood up and started walking away. Did she look at him before she left? He wasn’t sure. Did it even matter? He watched her walk and smiled. For the first time in what felt like forever, he knew what to do next.
©2017 Benj Vickers