Linda & Greg Morris's Arc

Chapter 6 of 11

Linda stood at the community center door fifteen minutes before the meeting. No cars filled the parking lot. She checked her phone—three text messages, all saying the same thing. Couples weren't coming tonight. One pair had an emergency. Two others just stopped responding. Greg arrived and saw her face. "How many?" he asked. Linda held up her phone. His shoulders dropped. They walked inside to the empty circle of chairs and sat in silence. Their support group had been growing, but tonight felt like starting over. Linda wondered if they'd pushed too hard or said the wrong things. Greg stared at the floor. Neither of them spoke for a long time. Greg finally stood up. "Let's go," he said. They locked the community center and walked toward the Arbor House Restaurant where they'd promised to take the group for dinner. The Victorian building looked empty in the evening light. Outside, a stone bench sat near the entrance, its surface carved with snake scales and armrests shaped like serpents. Four sculpted bushes surrounded it—each one trimmed to look like a coiled snake. The bench showed wear from years of people sitting there, probably having difficult conversations before going inside. Linda touched the cold stone. "How many people gave up right here?" she asked. They kept walking through town. Near an alley, Linda spotted a wooden planter filled with mint and lavender. The plants grew together in tangled knots, their stems twisted around each other. She stopped to look at it. The herbs had been there so long they couldn't separate anymore. Greg crouched beside her. "That's what we were trying to fix," he said. "When people get so tangled up they can't tell which problems belong to who." Linda nodded. The planter showed exactly what happened when relationships grew without care—everything knotted together until nothing made sense. They walked back home as the sun set. Linda spread out a shimmering pink and purple blanket on their front steps. The fabric caught the last rays of light in its icy surface. Greg sat down next to her. "We need to figure out what went wrong," Linda said. "Before next week." Greg pulled out his phone and started texting the couples who'd canceled. Linda watched the street grow dark. Their support group wasn't dead yet, but tonight proved they didn't have all the answers. They sat together on the blanket, making a list of questions to ask when people finally responded.