"Fredrick, sleep on the davenport. Stay out of my bedroom. " Mabel screamed. Mabel couldn't stand the thought of being in the same bed as her husband.
Fredrick ignored his wife's demand to do the dishes. Fredrick, however, obeyed the command to sleep on the couch. Each were all too aware and unaware of each other's private hell in the marriage. Mabel settled the baby. Mabel cleaned the kitchen with layers of Ajax. Fredrick lay alone in his thoughts despite Mabel's spirted scrubbing. All the time, Mabel whispered, "I don't want to be married."
"Honestly, I cannot remember the last time I made love to my wife. I certainly can't remember the date, I can hardly remember the feeling of my wife's body." Fredrick whispered into the darkness and to his wife, yet, he was afraid to talk about the intimacy of his heart and the failings of his body. Fredrick whispered deep into his pillow , "I don't want to be married anymore. I wish I wasn't married. I wish didn't have children."
Mabel went into her bedroom. Mabel waited for his labored breathing to give in, and the snoring to begin. Mabel wondered her to herself what if they were brave enough to embrace the misery of their union and bring to whispers of not wanting to be married to a loud declaration of ENOUGH Pain. Mabel wept with sadness, with rage at herself, rage at her husband, rage at her perfectionist, always right mother, and rage at her immoral choices. Mabel mourned the death of her marriage even though she was legally married. She stood over her husband, she had thought of crushing all his medication into his coffee just before he left for work and he would simply fall asleep on the drive. It would put the poor bastard out of his misery. She would have more sympathy as a widow as divorcee'.
Mabel walked into the kitchen, poured herself two fingers of gin and mixed it with ginger ale. She settled herself into herself back to read The Beautiful and The Damned. Mabel gave in the dullness of alcohol, and the drunkenness of Fitzgerald's prose. Mabel felt herself releasing from the grips of reality. Mabel passed out, the book fell out of her hands as her hands went slack. The glass tittered off the table. Mabel woke up to the wails of Fredrick Jr., her mouth was slack and dry. Fredrick slept through his son's wails.
Mabel's head felt heavy." Freddy, she cooed, settle down. " Mabel changed her son and warmed his bottle. Fredrick Jr. settled back into sleep. Mabel set out cereal bowls, spoons, and cornflakes. Mabel scribbled a not on the back on the oil bill.
Good Morning, my lovelies,
Eat your cereal quietly. Mommy is tired. I love you.
She went back to bed. Several hours later, she was being violently shaken out a deep sleep.
"You get up and fix my kids a hot breakfast. Cold cereal that they serve themselves. Is this how you have been taking care of the kids". Fredrick sneered.
"Get your hands off me." Mabel scrambled to her feet as she pushed Fredrick off her. Mabel slapped her husband full-force. The force and the sound of skin on skin shocked them both. "Don't ever touch me again, don't tell me how to raise my children, and don't come into my room again. Keep your clothes in the hall closet." Mabel went into the closet and threw all his clothes into the hallway.
Fredrick left the room. Mabel composed herself and made her bed. Mabel showered, made up, and fixed her hair. Mabel felt the weight of her rage had lifted from her. India Marque copyright 2022
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