Ringing pulls my attention away from the mirror. I spin away, rolling the towel around my chest, making sure it's snug, before pushing through the double bathroom doors back into my room.
Chris’s name pops up on my screen with a text reading,You busy?
I don’t know what to make of Christian. He was nothing but kind and gracious on my first day at school, walking me to my final class after Ellis’s. But is he really a nice guy? Or portraying one to get into the new girl’s pants? I wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter. He wouldn’t be the first boy to play nice just so I’d give him a taste. But that’s a mistake I won’t make again.
If he wants me, he’ll have to try a little harder.
Dropping the phone back on the bed, I walk over to my closet, letting the towel fall on the way, and pull out my softest pair of gray sweats and pastel blue angel sweatshirt.
Normally, I wouldn’t wear this outfit, but it’s never this cold back home. Rhode Island is freezing compared to California.
Comfy, warm, and no longer wet in any way, I shut the lights off in my room and tramp downstairs to join my mom in the kitchen.
My father's voice rings out through the open hallways. His laugh, along with my mother's, and the crinkling sound of packing paper, steer me away from the kitchen and instead draw me to the sitting area.
Cross-legged on the floor in the middle of half-unboxed packages, they laugh and filter through photos of when they were in high school. I remember what my mom said earlier, how she was certain she had met the love of her life when my dad came into the picture.
I want a love like that, an undeniable, all-consuming, everlasting love.
Theodore Ellis
CHAPTER IV
“Beth? I’m home….”
Slowly, I shut the front door. Then, kicking off my black dress shoes, I hang my messenger bag up on the hook by the entrance and go in search of my wife.
I wonder what kind of mood she’s in today? Am I going to meet the woman I fell in love with? Or the one she’s turned into?
“Beth?” I repeat, strolling through the front hall into the living room, where she usually relaxes after work. I see an empty bottle of Avalon Chardonnay sitting on top of the kitchen counter while the scent of marijuana drifts in from the backyard.
On the outside, Beth Ellis is the picture of perfection. Her shiny blonde hair barely brushes against her finely sculpted collarbones, accentuating the violently sharp angles of her cheeks and jaw. She has a pouty mouth that once begged to be kissed. Now, it’s used to sling slurs and spit venomous words.
When Beth and I met in college, it wasn’t love at first sight. We worked on it. Against all odds and caution not to, we made it through everything in our way and married. It was heaven for a moment, but again, the worst things for you are.
Sighing, I prepare myself for the storm that I sense brewing and head toward the back.
“Hey, honey,” I greet cautiously once I step outside. She rocks on a chair on the back porch, staring off at the valley of trees with that dead calm in her gaze. The ashes of her joint fall to the floor as she sips on her wine. “How was your day?”
Downing her full glass, she mutters, “Well, I went into work with a pounding migraine that only got worse because my brother is a fucking idiot and didn’t get into contact with our shareholders, so I had to do it while he screamed in my ear. And then, I forgot my lunch at home, but my lazy fucking assistant, Margie, wasn’t in the office today. So, I had to run down the street to get a sandwich, which took twenty minutes to make, leaving me with ten minutes to run back to the office and shove the entire thing down my fucking throat. But you want to know what the real icing on the cake was?” she asks, finally twisting in her seat to glare at me.
I ready myself for her lashing as she turns toward me with a fiery look in her eyes. That pointed, fuming stare confirms that tonight is going to be a night on the couch.
“What?”
“You left the truck on empty. So when I got home and was going to take my mother the trunk that was left in the garage, I fucking couldn’t because there was no fucking gas!”
Her shrilling voice aggravates the throbbing nerves in my head, but what’s worse is the stinging slap across my face. I hiss when her nails rake over my cheek, but I do nothing more. I know apologizing won’t make a fucking difference because she’s been stewing in this mood for… I don’t know how many hours. So I stay quiet, watching the sun dip below the horizon while I rub the tingling from my skin.
“How was your day?” Beth asks, seeming relaxed after a moment. She offers me the newly opened bottle of wine to finish off as she puts out her blunt. I take the alcohol and down it in a second, setting it behind me before saying, “It was alright. Had a few meetings after school about some regulation changes, but other than that, it was just another day.”
“No? Nothing thrilling in the life of a high school history teacher?” she patronizes, snorting her laughter while pulling a fresh bottle from behind her back. Being a teacher was always so foolish to her.
“Why waste your time with children when you could do something meaningful, like your family?”she would ask when we sat in my dorm room. I figured it was a joke, a teasing, snobbish joke. The longer we stayed together, the more she would come to realize how important educating and molding students' minds was to me.
We still haven't gotten there.
I chose to ignore her condescending tone, chuckling away the knot in my gut. Letting her bitchiness roll off my shoulders is the only thing I can do to make it easy to breathe again. It’s like walking on eggshells around her sometimes, so this bit of laughter is more than needed.
