They made their way to the living area. Stunning deep chocolate hard wood flooring stretched through the living room. Michael explained the floor was black walnut. Angela didn’t know pine from oak or black walnut, but she got the impression that this was a very desirable floor. It was certainly beautiful. He led her to one of the many colorful pieces of art on the walls. Unlike the other collections, this collection was more unified.
“These are all by the same artist. He paints pictures of stain glass.”
“Art of art; interesting...I love the texture.” She tried to sound intelligent. She didn’t know why she kept trying to impress him. She wasn’t usually the type to try to impress people. She decidedshe was stopping that right then. He was certainly not judging her.
“He paints with a knife only. No brushes.”
This was by far, her favorite collection. After she had taken the time to admire each and every piece, they made their way back to his office.
“You have beautiful artwork and a fantastic home,” she told him, genuine.
“Thank you. I could give you a tour of the rest of the house if you’d like.”
She looked at her watch. She had been gone for almost four hours. ‘I’m sorry. I must be going.”
“Oh... I understand,” he said, not sure if he had overstepped.
“Speaking of my Goddaughter... I’m actually babysitting her today and I’m running late.”
What was wrong with her? Why was she lying? Why didn’t she just tell him she had to get home to make dinner for her fiancé?
“Well, off you go...” He smiled, thinking it was probably in everyone’s best interest if he did not take her to his bedroom.
“Thank you for the tour,” she offered on her way out.
“No problem. The pleasure was mine.”
When she got home, Robert seemed concerned by her extended absence. She apologized and told him she and Dot had gotten to chatting and she hadn’t seen the time go by. She did not mention the little art tour nor did she mention her gorgeous tour guide. There she was again; lying, if only by omission. She justified to herself that it was just an innocent tour of a beautiful home. Why make him suspicious when there was absolutely nothing to be jealous about. She could tell he was annoyed. All he said was, “You look like hell.”
She ran to the powder room. Her mascara had run a bit, her hair was matted against her forehead; she looked horrible. She was suddenly horrified at the thought of Michael seeing her like this. She was even more horrified at the thought of caring so much what Michael thought.
Three
Angela leaned against the counter,chopping red pepper for her shrimp stir-fry. Robert was on a health kick lately, working out and eating healthy. She figured she’d do her best to help out.
“I’ve got the green peppers, the red pepper, the celery ...oh darn, the onions.” She wished she had that dicer/chopper contraption she saw on the shopping network. At the time, she thought it was a waste of money and now she sure wished she had it. She had every other gadget you could think of in her state of the art kitchen. Oddly enough, neither her nor Robert cooked all that much.
“Everything’s going right on schedule. Robert should be here any minute now.” She was proud of herself and excited. They so rarely ate together; he had been working late a lot. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her day and the progress she had made on the wedding plans, the hall she had booked.
Ten minutes later, she sat at the table with a glass of red wine, waiting.
“The vegetables are getting cold and soggy. Just great…” Thirty minutes later, she was on her second glass of wine.“Great, now dinner’s ruined and I’m getting drunk.” An hour later, she was fuming, eating soggy shrimp stir-fry, on her third glass of wine.
“That jerk better have a good excuse.” Thankfully, the wine had a somewhat calming effect on her.
She was annoyed at Robert’s lack of respect for the tradition of the family dinner; enjoying food and conversation. She had grown up in what one could call a traditional family. Her mom would always have dinner on the table and her dad would come home from work and join them at the kitchen table. Her older sister sat beside her mother, her younger brother sat beside her father and Angela was at the head of the table. The other side of the table was pressed against the wall; the window looking onto the backyard. They usually ate spaghetti, meatloaf, steak and potatoes served with rice and buns. In the summer, they’d have veggies and fruit from the garden. She had grown up with those family values and she dearly missed them. She missed her family who were all still out West.
Robert had gone many times on business, but lately, it was much more often than usual. She was looking forward to spending time with him this weekend.
She picked up the phone to call Krysta. She let the phone ring five times and the answering service picked up. She hung up without bothering to leave a message. Krysta never returned her calls. Angela understood she was very busy with her daughter, and was juggling work, a kid, and a home as a single mom. She guessed ‘best friend’ was last on that list. Angela wished she had more friends.
A few hours later, she heard the door open. Robert always made such a raucous when he got home.
“Hi, dear, what are you doing?” he asked, setting his briefcase on the counter. Angela was sitting on the sofa, absently watching a made for TV movie. She looked at the clock; a little research for her impending nagging session.
“You’re three hours late.”
“What are you talking about?” Robert had no clue. He helped himself to some wine, noticing that the remaining wine filled only the bottom of the bottle.
