Success with Plan C

By Kate Fenner, Fairfax, Virginia

As appeared in

What had gotten me through my busy day at work was knowing I’d come home to my husband in the evening.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Aaron called as I walked in.

We’d gotten married a year before—right out of college. Some thought we were too young, but we wanted a head start on our plan: We’d live in the country. Aaron would open his own bed-and-breakfast. We’d cuddle up with our Labrador retriever.

So far we had a long way to go. Aaron wasn’t even working at a bed-and-breakfast. Instead of strolling the countryside I was navigating the Washington, D.C., highways. We didn’t have a dog. But we were together every evening and every weekend. We were compromising our plan, but just until we got on track.

I peeked into the little dining area off the kitchen. Aaron had set the table with our best china. We ate Cornish hens by candlelight. Afterward we sat out on our little balcony holding hands and talking. It was the one part of the day that was just the way I’d dreamed.

“Remember that great job I applied for?” Aaron asked. “The one I wasn’t qualified enough to get?” I remembered the ad. It was at one of the best bed-and-breakfasts in the country. We figured it couldn’t hurt for Aaron to get an interview.

“I didn’t get it, but they offered me an entry-level job in the dining room,” Aaron said. “A five-star inn!”

I threw my arms around Aaron. “Angels must have had a hand in this! And you’re just telling me now? It’s our dream come true.”

“Not exactly,” Aaron said. “The schedule’s erratic—on top of the long commute. Sometimes I’ll have to work nights—and weekends.”

I pulled away. I thought angels had helped Aaron get this job, but angels would never have given us a job like this. We were supposed to be moving toward the life we’d planned. Not making more compromises!

But then I saw the hope in his eyes. It wasn’t his own bed-and-breakfast, but this job was a step in that direction. “It’s just a temporary compromise,” I said.

Aaron settled quickly into his new position. Getting used to not seeing each other evenings and weekends was harder to adjust to. Weekends were the worst. Aaron’s schedule at the inn changed so often, we couldn’t even make plans in advance. One Friday night I fell asleep on the couch with a book. “Kate,” Aaron whispered when he came in late.

“Oh, hi, sweetie,” I muttered. “Did you have a good day?”

“Great day,” he said. “Except—I really missed you.”

I missed you too, I wanted to say. Too much. But I wanted to be a good sport. “Maybe it would help if I had company around the house,” I said. “Let’s go down to the shelter tomorrow and get that Lab puppy we always talked about.”

“I have to work tomorrow.”

“That’s two Saturdays in a row!”

“We’ll go the first Saturday I’m off,” Aaron said. “Promise.”

“I don’t want a puppy!” I yelled. “I want my husband!” I stomped into the bedroom and shut the door. Nothing was working out as planned. Aaron and I made up before going to sleep, but I tossed and turned all night. Aaron had an early day at work and was gone before I woke.