“The pepper jack cheese in the eggs this time really sets them off,” Virgil complimented his wife. “Honey, did you hear me?”
April was in deep thought. She stared at the dark substance in her coffee cup as if the black liquid could sway her mind from the surfacing thought.
“Honey?” Virgil said a bit louder.
This time his word registered and the coffee cup slowly came into focus.
“Yes,” April responded.
“What’s wrong? Are you still troubled by my behavior last night?”
“I haven’t given it much thought. That’s water under the bridge; we’ll get past this.”
“Please explain the distance in the air today. What’s wrong?”
“Really nothing,” she lied again.
April felt bad with a second lie in such a short time. But, she wasn’t about to tell her true feelings. The tainted mood began while she cooked. Mentally, she took inventory of her fairytale life. Even with his undying love, worldly possessions and money, a major part of her felt unfulfilled. She did a quick scan of her home.
How can a person with so much feel so empty? she asked herself.
Deep down, April wanted to contribute to her life’s existence. Many women would say being a homemaker was a full-time job, but years of constant repetition had taken a toll on her spirit. She cooked, she cleaned, shopped for groceries, clothes and everything in between online. She and Virgil attended very little social functions, therefore, for years she felt like a prisoner confined to their home. Absent the visits from the personal trainer and an occasional call from her mother, her outside life would be nonexistent.
The one time April did voice her desire to contribute to the household, Virgil became irate, his old school chauvinistic views flared and they engaged in a major argument over the subject for days.
No wife of mine is going to work when I have the means to provide a good life without help, were Virgil’s words. They were still prominent in her mind.
Virgil was the man of the house and throughout the years he reminded her of it countless times. It led April to believe that reviving a non-winnable stressful conversation wasn’t worth the effort. Part of her believed her predicament was her own doing because she accepted the role from the very beginning. After all, it was his money, his house and his rules. It was a thought that tormented her silently for years.
“I’m a bit preoccupied with being spooked last night,” April continued.
“Spooked? What happened?”
“I looked different in the mirror, but I’d guess the lightning may have played tricks with my eyes.”
“Well, what did you see?”
“A reflection of me looked the same, yet uncommonly different.”
“Explain.”
“That’s just it. I can’t. I just felt as though I was seeing a near identical twin.”
Virgil smiled. He slept through the worst part of the storm, yet April’s explanation forced him to agree with his spouse.
“Sweetheart,” Virgil said. “You’re right. It was just the storm playing tricks on you. Don’t waste energy worrying about a supernatural phenomenon,” Virgil suggested.
“Maybe you’re right,” agreed April.
She was happy to have swayed the conversation without revealing her true feelings. Even though having Virgil believe she’d lost her mind forced a question about her motive.
SIX
Lying in bed the next morning Ariel had her back toward Steven’s. She again focused her attention to the dancing rain on the bow window. It was a constant fall, but not the downpour of the previous night. Steven rolled over, placed an arm around her and then began running his fingers through her hair.
“I’m sorry I acted so ugly last night,” Steven apologized. “I truly don’t know what got into me.”
Ariel remained silent.