The Marriage Intervention by Hilary Dartt

light,” Josie said after he poured his heart out, and all his other organs, too.
    He just shrugged.  
    “I want to give you some homework,” Dr. Strasser said. “In your notebooks, I want you to describe the best time in your marriage, and the time when you’ve felt like it was at its weakest. For each entry, write down how you felt during those times.”
    “And don’t worry,” he added when they both remained silent. “The end of the first appointment always feels a bit … well, a bit depressing. I have a feeling with you two that things will get better from here. Chins up.”  
     

     
     

     
     

    ***
    The Best Times
    Josie underlined the three words, then sighed and set down her pencil.  
    “Nothing, huh?” Paul looked at her from the opposite end of the couch.  
    He was so handsome, she thought, with his dark hair and five o’clock shadow. His eyes twinkled at her.  
    Maybe sharing a nemesis will be good for us. Stop it. Dr. Strasser isn’t a nemesis. We’re paying him to help us.  
    She felt like crying and laughing. Summer’s kids had a name for that. Craughing. It wasn’t that she didn’t have anything to write down on her “The Best Times” homework assignment. It was just that she missed those times.  
    Because she felt herself bordering on hysteria, Josie stood up.  
    “I have lots of things, actually,” she said. “But I think it’s better if I do this alone.”  
    Rather than responding, Paul looked back down at his own notepad.  
    Josie could see his writing already scrawled over half a page. She sighed and wondered whether he had written about the New Year’s Eve when they were both so sick with a stomach virus they fell asleep on the couch watching TV, waiting for the ball to drop in New York City. They woke up drenched in sweat at two a.m., their fevers broken, and hobbled to bed where they fell asleep in each other’s arms. It wasn’t the most celebratory New Year’s Eve, but for some strange reason it was one of their mutual favorites. Maybe he wrote about the time they went horseback riding and she fell off within a few feet of the trailhead. She refused to get back on, and they both ended up walking the horses back to the stable. They went for a beer at a new pub, joking that trying out a new brew was just as adventurous as going for a trail ride.
    Locked in their bedroom, Josie was able to concentrate. She found that once she began writing, the words flowed effortlessly.
    I guess what initially attracted me to Paul was that what you see is what you get. No secrets, no pre-planned stories, no contrived situations.  
    His marriage proposal is a perfect example.  
    He dragged me out for a hike on Granite Mountain (I hate hiking and really, exercise of any kind aside from exercise in the bedroom. But isn’t the beginning of any relationship the best time for forcing your significant other to try new things?). The lookout at the peak is nothing short of incredible. How could it not be romantic?  
    So we’re standing there, and Paul is taking in the views, I mean just soaking them up like he’s never seen anything so beautiful. And I’m behind him, huffing and puffing with my hands on my knees like I’ve never hiked up such a high mountain. At that time, I hadn’t.  
    After the next few minutes, which I spent getting my breathing and heart rate almost back to normal, I finally brought myself to a standing position and took a few wobbly steps toward Paul. He turned to face me, and we were both grinning like idiots.  
    It seemed natural to put our arms around each other, and we stood there looking out over Juniper for a few minutes in silence.  
    I remember these moments so clearly. “It’s pretty awesome, right?” he asked me. “It’s awesome, but I’m not sure it’s worth the hike,” I said.  
    He said, “I wasn’t talking about the view, Josie. Being together is awesome. Whether we’re hiking or… shopping.”  
    We both laughed, but then he