As she cashes me out, I spot the business cards sitting next to the bowl of mints. HALL HAIR DESIGN. I instantly reach for a card. I would normally never dream of going to a new hairdresser. I love Katrina, my current stylist. Yet, desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Oh, he’s great,” Renee tells me. “You should definitely check him out. It’s where I get my hair done.”
Well, look at her, pimping her husband — she is the perfect advertisement indeed. Of course she has no clue that I know they’re married. I also know he buys her flowers, just because. I know he collects socks. I know they both love to have margaritas and nachos and guacamole on Friday evenings. I know they’ve been married for sixteen years. I know she has family in Montreal. I know they’re both obsessed withSanta Clarita Dietat the moment.
I fucking know it all.
* * *
I needto work late again to catch up on my accounts. Brian is reading a book and the boys are holed up in their rooms again — I swear, sometimes I’m not even sure they live here at all. If it weren’t for mandatory family dinners, I might never see them on some days. I usually make an effort to go peek in to check up on them. “How was your day?” I ask. “What ‘cha doing?” I’m typically met with grunts and eye rolls, especially from Trevor. Tristan is occasionally chatty, when he’s not immersed in his phone.
I don’t dare tidy their mess when they’re in it — although the urge is all-consuming. I know better. I do it during the day, when they’re at school. We’ve come to an agreement — they know my nature, and they respect the fact that this is my house (or condo), and they know this is a fight they can’t win.
I miss the days when I’d catch them playing with Legos, or drawing a picture. When they’d shoot me a big grin as soon as I stepped into their rooms. Am I feeling neglected? Am I bored now that they don’t need me anymore? Is that why I’ve become obsessed with Ava and her family?
I don’t ponder these questions too long because I have a lot of catching up to do. Today’s little excursion netted me a few new items of clothing, but it cost me a good three hours of my time.
Brian kisses the top of my head. “Working lateagain? Those people are slave drivers.”
I glance up from my papers. “I actually went shopping today,” I tell him. “I bought some jeans, a skirt, capris and a top.”
“Oh, cool,” he says. “You should do that more often… take some time during the day for yourself. You work yourself too hard.”
He does have a point. Other than coffee and a weekly lunch with the girls, it’s go, go, go. Work, the gym, housework and cooking.
“I’m almost done here,” I tell him. “Then we can watch something.”
“Sounds good.”
We haven’t had sex since I found Ava’s photo. After fifteen years of marriage, our sex life has waned. I’m not sure if it’s the years or the kids. But when we get together, it’s good. Damn good. I’ll take quality over quantity any day.
Brian is good in bed, always has been. He knows exactly where to touch me and what filthy words to whisper in my ear. Does he whisper in Ava’s ear? I shake my head. I can’t let my mind go there. I refuse to until I know more. Could Ava have something to do with the drop in frequency of our lovemaking? I’m not sure if it’s just my imagination, but it seems to have been even less frequent these days. I try to think back to the last time we had sex. I can’t even remember. God, that’s sad.
10
Istudy the wedding photo of us, on my desk. When we were first married, we used to go at it all the time.
Needless to say, because of the surprise pregnancy, the wedding was rushed. For many, weddings can take a year to plan. And for a perfectionist like myself, one year might not be enough.
As it was, I had three months. Our baby was due in December, and I didn’t want to look pregnant at my wedding. I smile at the thought of that now. Everyone knew I was expecting. Yet at the time, I thought that a bride with a huge baby belly was in poor taste and not classy at all. And I was going for a whole Queen Elizabeth vibe, and a baby bump just didn’t jive with that whole esthetic. At four months, I could still conceal my growing stomach.
I had three months to plan my wedding. And of course, everything had to be perfect. I’d chosen pink and white lilies, and dusty rose for the bridesmaid dresses. Since I had no close friends at the time, my sisters were my bridesmaids. Small bottles of red wine and alcohol-free champagne were handed to our guests as a thank you gift. The invitations were printed on a tasteful paper, accented with silver accents.
Thankfully, Brian’s parents had dear friends who owned a horse estate which hosted weddings in the summer months. I’ve never particularly liked horses but the setting was beautiful, and most importantly, it was available and discounted.
I oversaw the table arrangements, linens, and the decorator. Everything needed to be absolutely perfect. My life might have been falling apart but my wedding would be flawless. I’d been extremely stressed, and had had terrible morning sickness. I’d actually managed to lose weight, and my doctor was concerned. On the plus side, I looked amazing in my wedding dress.
I’d come to rely on my rituals more than usual. Strangers eyed me with confusion as I rolled my neck repeatedly, tapped my fingers, counted out loud, and closed my eyes and breathed. I knew that my stress would only increase once the baby came, and that concerned me to no end. I was so scared of the future.
I’d just finished my Bachelor of Business Administration, but Accounting school would have to wait a few years. I was going to be a full-time mother while Brian would teach.
It was the big day and thankfully, I was feeling well. Gone were the days of morning sickness. I was in good spirits and looking forward to marrying the love of my life.
I felt beautiful in my wedding dress. It was not too different from the one I had envisioned as a girl, but this one was sleeveless, the skirt round and big. And the corset top was embroidered with a silver design. I had the long veil, just like Queen Elizabeth. I wore sensible chunky heeled white shoes because I knew there would be walking on grass. I was accompanied by my mother and my sisters as I exited my uncle’s black vintage 1966 Mustang.
There were a few people milling about outside and my breath hitched at the sight of them — they were all strangers. I shifted my gaze to the horses in the field off in the distance to calm myself as I made my way into the blue building. It was a beautiful day, and I told myself that I would get through it, that it would all be over soon. Don’t get me wrong — I really wanted to marry Brian. I loved him with all my heart, but the whole wedding thing was really freaking me out.
When I entered the building, we immediately headed to a private room, designated for the bride and her bridal party to get ready. It was right next to the pretty chapel, which was just lovely — greenhouse-like, filled with greenery and topiaries, windows all around. White chairs sat in rows, and a pretty white archway full of flowers stood at the front awaiting us and the Priest.
