“I didn’t know about John,” Faith said. “I know both of them have had serious marital problems over the years. Isn’t it weird that all three of you are in D/D relationships, but your parents weren’t?”
“I have thought about it,” Ales admitted. “I think we wanted something different from what we witnessed every day of our lives as kids. We were raised in chaos. My sisters and I watched my mother undermine my father with lies and outrageous behavior. I didn’t want that, and I don’t think my sisters did either. We wanted order, respect, and love. All three of us have that in our marriages. How we got there isn’t as important as the fact that we got there. Being in domestic discipline relationships seems to suit us.
“Reestablishing myself as the head of household, means we have to have a lot more communication, from myself and from you. Doing what I ultimately think is best is part of my job as the Head of House, but I can’t be a dictator, and I have become one. I’m in the habit of doing what I think is best, without consulting you.”
“I’ve been shutting down, and harboring resentments,” Faith admitted. “We don’t communicate anymore.”
“That’s going to stop,” Ales promised. “We are a two-career household, and if you drop our artistic temperaments on top of everything else, it’s no wonder we imploded. We need to take a step back and follow the tenets that worked for us, and kept our marriage strong.”
“Can we turn back time?” she asked, as she moved stiffly to sit on the sofa. Faith leaned against her husband’s shoulder, and he tucked her head under his chin gently as he’d done for years. “Can you be the person you were? Can you do what is best for our family above your career, and your ego? As the Head of House, sometimes you have to accept a decision that is best for Ricco or me; even if you strongly disagree with it. In the last couple of years, your concerns have been a higher priority than ours. You have been behaving a lot like a despot.”
“I realize that, and I’m sorry,” Alessandro said. “I loved my father, and I still love my mother, but I never understood their relationship. Dad wanted to be a dictator, and my mother wanted to be a free-wheeling hippie.”
“There’s something I have to tell you,” Faith said, scooting over and distancing herself from him. “I’ve been thinking about this seriously for about a year. I’m going to do it, and nothing you can say is going to change my mind.”
“Now, you’re giving me ultimatums?” Ales asked.
She nodded. “Yes, I am. You haven’t been receptive to listening to me for a while. When school starts in the fall, I’m only going to be teaching three classes, which changes my status from a full-time teacher to part-time. I’m going after my Masters. I’ve already talked to admissions at Frostburg, and most of the credits I’ve earned will transfer. I can take a few of the required courses online at my own pace, so I can get those done and out of the way.
“It will take me about eighteen months to earn the credits I need. Dr. Lingburgh, at the college, said if I wanted to continue teaching at Frostburg, he would do his best to keep me on staff. Mr. Hadley, of the Art Department, is talking about retiring, and with a Masters, I could possibly step into his position, although I’m not sure that’s what I want.”
“You’ve been thinking about this for a year?” Ales asked.
“More like three. Every time I’ve mentioned it, you’ve shut me down. It’s time for me to finish what I started, and it’s fair. I postponed my studies to work full-time so you could finish your degree. I postponed my studies to be a full-time mother during Ricco’s baby years.”
“I agree, and I don’t have an issue with you getting your degree,” Ales said as he got to his feet. He walked over and faced the window again, looking out over the yard. “I do have an issue with you not discussing it with me.”
“I tried!” Faith exclaimed.
“I know, and I’m sorry about dismissing it and not listening. I was acting like a macho ass,” Ales admitted. “In my head, I turned it into you not being around the take care of Ricco.”
“The last time I suggested returning to school and getting my Masters in Fine Arts, you said it wasn’t necessary. You said my responsibility was to my family,” Faith said, swiping at tears that came into her eyes. “That has become your fallback position every time I want to do something that you disagree with. What you meant was I had to be available to handle all the household problems, take care of Ricco, and keep your mother from going off the deep end because you were too busy to deal with her. Cybil made the leap into crazy years ahead of your father’s demise, Ales. I resent that my life has to be affected by what she thinks and how she acts.”
Ales nodded and took a deep breath. “All I can do is apologize and promise that I will not allow her to interfere with our lives again. She may try to interfere with mine. I can’t avoid it. I am her son, but I will protect you and Ricco from her irrational behavior.”
He went to his wife and hugged her gently. “Don’t cry. We are going to fix this. You have my word. I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Where am I sleeping? If it’s across the hall, I’m okay with it.”
“There’s no need for two rooms,” Faith said.
Ales hadn’t realized how much strength Faith had lost. She was halfway up the flight of stairs when she had to sit down. Her face had drained of all color, and she looked exhausted.
“Faith!”
“I’m okay,” she claimed.
“Like hell!” Ales growled. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the door of the bedroom they would share, and set her on her feet.
“I need help undressing and dressing,” Faith said quietly. “I’m not up to anything physical yet, but I’ve missed you.”
“Can I hold you in my arms?” Ales asked.
She nodded.
“That’s all I need.”
“Wow!” Jill exclaimed, turning in a circle. “This is fantastic! My bonehead brother thought of this?”
“Yes, and give Ales come credit,” Faith said. “He said turning these third-floor rooms into a full studio made sense. He and Ricco set this room up for oil painting, and the smaller room next door is for watercolor.
“Ales wanted to set up the third bedroom for sculpture, but that’s not feasible. Clay is heavy and messy. Unless you work with it, you have no idea how much strength it takes. Working in clay also requires special filters in the air conditioning and special drains in the piping. That’s why I do most of the sculpting at the art studios at Frostburg. We stored most of the extra stuff Ales ordered into that room for now.”
“Well, I think this is terrific,” Jill said. “You’re painting again!”
“Yes,” Faith said. “Although your brother sets a timer, and when it goes off, after an hour, I have to stop and rest. I hope to get a clean bill of health when I go to the doctor on Friday.”
“So, how are you two getting along?” Jill asked.
“We’re working through our issues,” Faith admitted. “Ales came with a written list, but I think my mental one was longer. I gain some, he loses some, and vice-versa. Marriage is supposed to be about give and take. I’ve decided to stop caving in when I don’t agree with him. We still have things to work through. He hasn’t been here that long.”
“Mack and I were in a similar situation a couple of years ago,” Jill admitted. “It takes time, and it takes patience, and sometimes it takes fighting. Unfortunately, the fighting usually ends up with me having a sore bottom!”
“We