The Talk

He couldn't believe it. It happened again! Every time he and his wife tried to have a serious conversation, it spiraled out of control. And he wasn't going to take the blame this time! It wasn't his fault!

She felt as frustrated as he did. Though for obviously different reasons. She sat in the new car with the key in the ignition. Maybe she should just take off driving and never come back.

The man was successful in his business. He knew how to negotiate. He'd brokered deals that others had deemed impossible. Why couldn't he talk to his wife? This was a problem he could solve...

The woman sat on various committees. She organized various groups and networking events. She engaged large audiences with style and finesse. She would reach her husband...

He was such an effective negotiator because he knew how to identify needs. He found out what the other side wanted and positioned himself as the only provider. Then he could set prices and terms they could hardly refuse. Marriage is no different. He could do this.

Her judo instructor once told her that the skills she was learning can apply in all areas of life. Judo had taught her balance, coordination, and the ability to take down someone way

bigger. A top judo student, she also got a good cardio workout. Could these principles apply in her marriage? She was willing to try anything at this point.

He'd made his decision. He held the phone in his hand to call her. The car was still in the driveway, but he wanted to keep this businesslike. He would set an appointment. He made the call.

She'd made her decision. She held the car keys in her hand because she wasn't going anywhere. There was no running away from this fight. She would tackle the threat without causing harm to her "opponent." The phone rang.

"Hello, Dear," he began, turning on the charm. "I believe we need to talk before either of us makes a decision we'll later regret." That’s right, take no blame but include himself as part of the solution! "Can you be back in about an hour? I'll have wine and cheese."

"Honey," she answered feigning surprise at the call. She would not let him be the peacemaker. "I was holding the phone just now to

call you with the same idea." Like in judo, position was everything.

2 Their Plans

She entered her home 45 minutes later. She hadn't left her property, but in her mind's eye, she traveled to the dojo downtown. She had sparred with the best student there so her senses were sharp, and her mind was calm. Arriving 15 minutes early would put her husband off balance.

The man watched his wife enter the front door. She was early but not unexpected. In his negotiations, he always expected someone to be early. To really throw him off balance, she should have been late. "It's so good to see you," he said extending the glass of

Moscato.

One of the first lessons she learned in judo was to use the other's strength to your advantage. She accepted the glass and with the grace of a ballerina took her husband into a half embrace. She whispered in his ear, "You chose the right bottle, there's gorgonzola in the fridge." She felt him lose his footing, not much, but enough.

This was completely unexpected. The normal routine had been hysterical screaming and threats. It would appear his wife was changing her tactics as well. Would this affect his strategy? Only time would tell.

She released him from the embrace and took in the scene. It was her turn to be caught off guard. Their home was always ordered and immaculate. They argued over many things, but cleanliness was never a subject.

He saw her eyes widen for just a moment before she lowered her mask of disinterest again. He smiled to himself because he saw the shock. He had staged a catastrophe in chairs and couches, leaving nothing in its original place. "I panicked after you left," he supplied. His sweeping gesture took in the disaster that had been their front room.

"So, you figured you'd wreck the place and have me clean up after you?" Her judo skills and keen wit were on full display. Get back in control. "It's not your best look," she finished.

"Of course not, Baby," he crooned. "I've spent the last hour straightening things up. You should've seen it before! I thought I'd lost you." He looked defeated as he said the last few words.

That strike landed squarely in her heart. She always had a soft spot for his helplessness. Seeing him in the rain without an umbrella was how they had first met. But her dealings with various committees had taught her well. She was not swayed by sympathy anymore.

The man felt no warmth in her touch. There was no softness in her eyes. His plan had been to position himself as the one needing saving. Her instincts would kick in and she would forgive him. He would then set the price and the terms of their reconciliation.

3 The Impasse

The wife spoke first, “Before the wine gets warm or the cheese dries out, let’s talk.” She felt herself in control. This was like a judo match, like the counsel board. She had an agenda and was not going to let him bully her.

He led her to the only small table that wasn’t overturned. There was a place setting. His glass along with the cheese and crackers. He pulled her chair out with a flourish. She spoke again, “I hope you’re prepared to listen to reason?’

The man had gathered his composure. He had been caught off guard before, that did not mean the game was over. Negotiating is not a short sprint. It is more like a marathon. Plenty of time to recover from a false start.

“We’re both reasonable, my Dear,” he began, keeping the common ground. “The issue seems to be whose reason will prevail in this instance." He acknowledged they had a difference. It was a matter of which choice made more sense. There are finite resources such

as time and cash. There must be some prioritization.

She liked this type of discussion. There was no yelling, no throwing things. There wasn’t even any blame being thrown around. Why couldn’t they talk like this all the time? How long would it last?

It was at that moment she spoke out of character. No longer the hardened athlete and skilled businesswoman. “Why can’t we talk like this more often, John?” His eyes met hers, it seemed like for the first time, “Maybe, it’s the cheese and wine,” he said with a smile.

His attempt at humor seemed to have broken the spell. Claire returned his smile graciously. “You know,” she fiddled with the cheese cutter, “sitting in the car, I couldn’t even remember what we were arguing about. I just knew I had to win.”

John stared at Claire, “I know the feeling. Except, I didn’t have to win. It was just so important that you lost. How did we get here and how do we leave this place?” He asked.

4 The Solution

John and Claire held hands and were silent for a long moment. “How long has it been since we’ve sat and talked like this?” She asked as they enjoyed a second glass of wine.

“Wow,” he responded, “not since the merger a couple of months back. It’s been so busy; remember, I had to head out of town, and you had those late meetings…”

She recognized his unfinished sentence. He hadn’t wanted her to join the after-hours committee. But at the time, it seemed so important and he was traveling most of the time anyway. “I want to believe it’s not too late for us,” he said sincerely. She wiped away a tear.

“Sure, we’ll have to make changes,” he continued. She nodded, and they said together “It’s not too late.” Where do we begin, she thought? She knew he was thinking the same thing. So, she asked out loud, “Where do we begin?”

John was deep in thought. He had to admit, all his business sense had not helped him in his marriage. They’d been together for 7 years. And each year had seen them grow further and further apart. The puzzle was that their income and lifestyle had actually improved during this same time.

John shook his head in answer. He honestly didn’t know. How could they be doing so many things right with their finances and possessions? While at the same time, their home life was

in shambles? “Remember that fight we had after we’d been in quarantine for about 6 months?” Claire asked.

“How could I forget,” John said, “that was one of our worst yet,” he finished with a wry smile. “You’re right, it was,” she said, “and we both agreed it was so bad because we're stuck in the house all time now due to the pandemic. Working from home and even recreation is still just the two of us. We’re finding out how far apart we’ve grown.”

He said, “And that’s when you threatened to leave me…”

“I know,” she looked down as she admitted it. “That was mean to say and I’m still very sorry for some of the other things I said.”

He added, “Remember, Honey, I gave as well as I got. We both were out of control. What do we do now?” He asked. They saw the envelope at the same time. It was part of the bundle of mail they brought in yesterday.

Claire had opened it because it was handwritten, and she didn’t recognize the return address. After the first paragraph, she had tossed it on the ever-growing pile of junk mail and joined her next zoom meeting. It caught her attention now. She unfolded the sheet and read the words aloud:

“Good afternoon, Claire

You don't know me. I live in the area and am sharing good news with those who are abiding by the Stay-at-home directive. I normally visit in-person, but due to the pandemic, we’ve found other ways to reach our neighbors.

Would you like to learn how to find real happiness in your family? Did you know there is a reliable source for couples to turn to for answers?" The letter went on like this for a few more paragraphs and the solutions it offered seemed reasonable and Bible-based.

John and Claire spent the rest of the evening at that small table reading that short letter. They read it a second time. And they talked to each other in a way they hadn’t since they had dated.

They were so glad that Georgia Woodson had included her contact information. They called her and set up a zoom visit for tomorrow evening with her and her husband. John and Claire both had late work meetings scheduled. They both canceled their work meetings…