My Husband Called It My Little Summer Job — Then He Planned Family Time Over My First Saturday Shift
PART 2
At the end of her shift, Marissa took a picture of the rota and sent it to Ethan.
Four Saturdays were highlighted under her name.
The last one fell on Pine Harbor’s summer festival weekend.
It also fell on their twenty-seventh wedding anniversary.
Ethan called before she reached the staff parking lot.
“Four Saturdays?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you said mostly weekdays.”
“I said some weekends.”
“You said the schedule was flexible.”
Marissa stopped beside her car.
Had she?
She remembered the kitchen conversation after the lodge hired her. Ethan had asked whether they could still go to his brother’s cabin in July. She had said, “I’m sure I can move things around. It’s only six weeks.”
That was not the same as promising every weekend.
It was not completely different either.
“I shouldn’t have made it sound like I could move every shift,” she said.
Ethan was quiet.
“I’m not trying to be difficult,” he said. “I just thought this was something fun you were doing while school was out.”
“It is fun.”
“So why can’t you switch Saturday?”
“Because somebody else would have to work it.”
“That’s how switching works.”
She leaned against the car.
A younger version of herself would already have texted three coworkers.
The current version was apparently only four days older, but something about seeing her name printed on the rota made the commitment feel less theoretical.
“I’m not asking for a swap for the barbecue,” she said.
Ethan exhaled.
“Okay.”
It did not sound okay.
“I’ll come home after,” she added.
“Dinner will be over.”
“I know.”
Another pause.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll save you ribs.”
Marissa ended the call and looked back toward the lodge.
Guests moved across the porch carrying towels and paper cups. Somebody laughed near the dock.
She had wanted a summer that was not built entirely around home.
She was beginning to understand that wanting one meant occasionally not being there when home would have preferred her.
