We're Not Those People
Summary: It's been four years and Ray hasn't recovered from his father's passing. After a bad fight, Ray and Debra wonder if divorce is in their future. [Post-finale fic circa 2010]
A/N: I've been watching ELR with my family for two weeks. I didn't often watch on my own before because the characters always seemed so unlikeable. Now I understand more and appreciate the humor. To me the characters are purposely exaggerated and unlikeable at different times. Still, a fanfic writer's mind can't help wondering how long Ray and Debra would stay together in real life.
Please note that I haven't seen every episode or written in this category much before. I did a random crossover one-shot ten years ago (God, I've been here more than ten years) but haven't revisited the category since.
*In memory of Peter Boyle, Doris Roberts and Sawyer Sweeten.
She never forced him to sleep on the couch before. He wound up there on his own sometimes, like during the "cuddling" incident, or when he needed to watch a late game for work. Last night was different. They argued on their way upstairs. Later, when he pulled the bedspread back, she asked him what he thought he was doing. He'd replied with a blank stare. They stood in the bedroom, dressed in their pajamas, and the clock said a quarter to midnight. What else did she expect him to do?
She explained it to him. "I can't even look at you right now. You're sleeping on the couch."
He'd been so shocked that he grabbed his pillow and walked downstairs in a daze. Where did she get that idea all of a sudden? People said "never go to bed angry," but he and Debra did it all the time. They'd have one of their many, many squabbles, then turn off the light and go to sleep. They usually tried to smooth things over but sometimes it carried into the morning. That never mattered because they always made up in the end.
Now she couldn't stand to sleep next to him. He preferred going to bed angry. Was this fight really so much worse than every fight before it?
Maybe it wasn't quality so much as quantity. Lately they communicated through snappy, sarcastic remarks, even in front of the kids. They'd both grieved after his father passed away, but four years later, Ray still couldn't snap back to his old self. He'd become even more distant and obsessed with work, golf, anything to keep his mind occupied. He even took the boys out for ice cream or a movie or whatever else they wanted. Teenagers don't normally jump at the chance to go out with their father, but they sensed the change too. Ally asked if he was okay every time she called home from college.
He always lied and said he was. He couldn't tell his nineteen-year-old daughter that he might have a breakdown any day now. Seeing his father's heart problems escalate so quickly traumatized him. Then when Frank passed, it didn't feel real. Ray said good-bye at the hospital, went to the funeral, looked in the casket. None of that erased his stubborn, subconscious denial. Sometimes he went across the street expecting Frank to be there. He'd reach the door and experience a twinge of disappointment right before he walked in.
He didn't stop by much anymore for that reason. Robert, Amy and his mother asked him and the family to dinner every week, so he'd go to avoid disappointing them. Otherwise he avoided that house. His mother faded away in the years since Frank's death. As much as his parents bickered, Marie Barone wasn't the "merry widow" everyone thought she'd be. She didn't cook as often because every meal reminded her of her husband. She tried to distract herself by obsessing over her two-year-old granddaughter, but she wound up pushing first-time mom Amy over the edge. Last year Marie finally joined a senior center to give everyone some space when she wasn't babysitting.
Even though her new social life helped, Marie couldn't reclaim all of her old spark. Like her son she found her own excuses for avoiding the house across the street. Debra didn't "need" need her there since the kids were older. At most she took over the laundry for them when the mood possessed her.
All of this caused an avalanche of unwelcome emotions. Ray never liked emotions to begin with, so the abrupt overload drove him to shut down. After a while Debra pushed and prodded, concerned about him and their relationship. He begged her to leave it alone but she wouldn't stop, even got the name of a therapist. As if he'd go to a therapist. He didn't tell his family what he felt, so what made her think he would tell a stranger?
So Debra shut down too. She acted normal around the kids, his family. But on the worst days husband and wife didn't say a single word to each other. On even worse days, they fought - in front of everyone.
Actually it surprised him that he didn't end up on the couch sooner. Maybe she didn't consider it before since his family tended to burst in unannounced. That didn't happen anymore. He never thought he'd long for the days when he couldn't get a moment's peace in his own house. Now his house had an overload of peace.
Of course, he and Debra dealt with problems prior to his father's death. He couldn't think of a time in their relationship when they didn't have problems. But wasn't that true for all couples? "Happily Ever After" didn't really exist. Life was all about getting through the day the best you can, and on your average day, issues came up. You didn't suddenly reach "Happily Ever After" on your wedding day and never experience any major problems ever again.
God, they couldn't get divorced. Divorce happened to other couples, not Ray and Debra Barone. Debra put up with him and his family for twenty years. She had too much invested in him. Who gave up after twenty years?
Debra's parents, that's who. They gave up.
He and Debra weren't her parents. If anything they were Frank and Marie Barone, destined to bicker the rest of their lives until one of them dropped dead.
Ray made the sign of the cross after that thought. The father he remembered wouldn't take offense at anything, but just to be safe. He also prayed for him and Debra. His parents reunited after a separation, so they could too. It might require some effort on his part. Ray didn't normally go for that, but given the alternative, he'd force , God. What if she made him go to couples counseling? An hour. In an office, with a stranger, talking about their feelings. For an hour. Were half-hour sessions a thing?
Maybe twenty-minute sessions?
He sat on the couch staring at nothing, the TV off, his mind struggling to process. He didn't hear Debra walk down the stairs and head towards the kitchen. At first he thought she'd ignore him, but when she reached the kitchen table, she stopped. Debra gave him a sideways glance, then asked, "What's with you?"
Her question sounded curious, concerned, hesitant. Testing the waters. He looked at her, and the thought closest to his mouth burst forward.
"What's the shortest amount of time a counseling session can be?"
He hadn't meant to blurt it out, but he couldn't take it back. She stared at him for almost a full minute with no emotion on her face. "What do you mean, counseling?" she asked warily. "Who did you have in mind?"
"Us. Me, you. Or just me if you're not into it. Whatever it takes."
The minimal reaction continued. Debra seemed guarded, reluctant to believe her husband was saying these words. "Where is this coming from, Ray?"
Ray felt his eyes widen, his mouth gape. He slowly spread out his arms to encompass the couch and the blanket over his lap. "From here!" He knocked his voice down to a whisper rather than a yell, so the kids didn't hear him. "From this couch! We've never done this before, Debra. Other couples do it, but not us!"
"You've slept on the couch before."
"It was always my choice! You never once kicked me out. Which is kind of shocking because I've given you plenty of opportunities."
She padded back into the living room, her eyes on his. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yesssss! I'm willing to attend counseling, but I have to like the person we get. No one too pushy or annoying, but I also don't want someone who just sits there and goes 'how do you feel about that?' There has to be a balance."
"You've given it a lot of thought." A small smile crossed Debra's face, and she sat down on the couch next to him. It was the warmest gesture between them for weeks. "Last night scared me too. After you left I lied there for the rest of the night, didn't get any sleep. I thought about asking you back but by then, I don't know, it was late and..."
Ray shook his head. "I don't care. We're going to get through this. We're not your parents."
"That entered my mind around four a.m. I'm surprised you didn't hear me scream."
"I was probably too busy screaming internally." He reached for her hand. She laced her fingers through his. "How did we get here, Deb?"
She moved even closer to him on the couch. "Are we 'here'? Sure, we both thought of divorce, but it was one fight."
"No it wasn't. It was...the last straw after a crapload of fights."
Debra nodded. "Yeah, yeah it was." She leaned in and kissed him, their first in over a month. His mood lifted instantly and hope filled his heart. "I'm so sorry, Ray. You know I love you, right?"
"Back at ya, sugar pie."
She chuckled as she snuggled into his arms. "It's been ages since you've called me a name like that. We'll look into counseling, but this right here is a huge step. You've been so distant for so long...I wasn't sure I'd ever get you back." They sat there in silence for a few minutes, still wearing pajamas, neither worried about starting the day. Even the television stayed off. Finally, Debra lifted her head to make eye contact. "Hey, don't take this the wrong way, but...I didn't realize you felt so strongly about divorce. It's nice."
Wouldn't it be assumed that he felt strongly against ending their marriage? Ray struggled to let the offense pass. They'd get to it in counseling. "Marriage is marriage," he explained. "If you can save it, you should. Then, when things get really bad, there's always the alternative to consider. We're not meant to be single again."
Her smile turned to a smirk. "How's that?"
"I just know." Undeterred by her amusement, he continued, "We're old married people set in our ways. We can't go out and find someone else. That's not us! Well you wouldn't have much trouble in that department, 'cause you're prettier and all, but you'd have to squeeze in time for a date between restarting your career and convincing the boys to go to college. Me, I'd be a sad sack roaming around the house all day. Ma would probably move in." He sat up from the couch, fresh horror surfacing as another realization dawned on him. "God, I'd be the new Robert."
While he overreacted, Debra patted his back. "Wait, why wouldn't I get the house if I have the kids?"
"Location."
"Oh. You're right, I would move across town." She smiled again and wrapped his arms around his middle. "Hey, don't think about this so much. Think about all the good stuff coming our way."
Always the pessimist, Ray retorted, "Such as?"
"Michael and Geoffrey graduating from high school, hopefully. Ally graduating college. Robert and Amy expanding their family."
Ray raised an eyebrow. His brother and sister-and-law already had a toddler, and seemed a little overwhelmed with just one kid. "That's new. Did Robert or Amy..."
"...no, they didn't mention it but anything's possible."
"Well, if you're in that kind of mood..." Ray put an arm around her shoulders and glanced back towards the stairs. "How about we move back up for a morning make-up party? I miss our bed."
Debra smiled, then picked up his pillow. "Maybe. We do need to put your pillow back."
"Sure, that sounds like a two-person job."