...it gets you into trouble

***

Tara just called… - he puts the phone down and sits on the sofa, once again diving into his work; his fingers tapping away with ease and speed. He looks relaxed, even though it’s work and I just stand there like an idiot. Trying too seem casual an relaxed myself. Pretending that I know exactly who’s he talking about. Tara who?

Oh? – I lean against the kitchen countertop, faking deep interest in the newest issue of “Cosmo”. My eyes drifting past the article, finding my old interests irritating. How can I have a whole stacks of this in the house. Bunch of rubbish.

Yeah, she tried to reach you on the cell… but apparently there’s something wrong with your phone…? – He asks distracted, probably filling up charts or some other thrilling alternatives.

Uh hmm, there’s something wrong with the battery – I say in a straight voice, stuffing my face with an apple, so I don’t say anything embarrassing . The real problem was, that I couldn’t actually find my phone in the first place, having no idea where I usually put it… and the dam thing dying in the process. Which kind of made my story true. Ok, true-ish.

Well then, you better get it fix – he doesn’t really sound too concerned – She’s coming over tomorrow, said too tell you : “ She’s in a mood for chinese spice and some casual red” – he finishes shaking his head. Rolling his eyes and making fun of “our” secret language.

Alright… tomorrow it is – I furrow my eyebrows. Well then, I guess I’m entertaining a dinner party with a “new” friend visiting. How nice. Another chance to expand my acting skills with an audience of two. More lies and “straight faces” to add to my portfolio… One of these days, I was going to have too confess about my current condition. I sigh. Every time I think about doctors roaming in my head, I cringe and want to hide under the nearest rock and hiss at people too scare them off.

Hmm, Tara. Sounds like the place from Gone with the wind… not that was useful in anyway. So, another name to add to the list. My little red notebook was getting full, really fast. And I wasn’t really getting any smarter in the process.

***

I just look at her, doing everything in her power to get closer to him: “Oh look at that, you have some dust on your shirt… you seem tense, I’ll give you one of my signature massages… how’s work, saving the PR world… stopping viruses from spreading…? – and so on and on, never getting tired. The fact that Matt ignores her completely is beyond the point. Even if he had a gun to scare her off, I would still be annoyed. So, is this how she always acts? Am I normally fine with this, or do I just don’t care? I shake my head and sip on the wine, not really enjoying it. Tara brakes away ( with big difficulty) from Matt and looks at me relaxed, like a cat which just ate the cream (well, I finally understand the phrase and I’m not thrilled by it much).

Anything wrong sweetie? – She asks, smiling in a lazy way. Hmm, nice of her to finally notice me. About time… Honestly, I’m just waiting until she decides to stretch out and show of her body, while her skirt rides up and her top shifts in every direction… not that my husband would actually notice, he seemed to be more attracted to his Power Point presentation than the size of her bra. I guess having a computer nerd in the house had its advantages after all.

No, I’m fine – barely – Just not much in the party mood today.

Party? Honey, you can hardly call this a big fiesta. It’s more of a get- together than anything else. Trust me, I would know.

Yeah, well… – My mind goes blank for a moment, when I notice the fingers of her hand still stroking his forearm. The picture is so unnerving that I forget what I wanted to say.

From what I’m seeing, you didn’t get enough of your daily amount of endorphins today. I told you, if you skip gym and had straight for the sales, this will happen – She gives a little laugh and slowly diverts her attention back to the only male specimen in the house.

I stare at her for a moment too long and she gives me an odd look. Was this the right time to mention, that I didn’t really leave the house for almost a week and a half… not counting the garden and a few attempts at going round the block… panicking from every sudden move or noise… including the time when I got scared by a seven year old and screamed like mad woman… scaring the kid in the process… which had been giving me disapproving stares every time I got the nerve to step out of the safety of my home. Yeah, I wasn’t particularly proud of that one. Hmm, somehow I doubted that running away from embarrassment would count as going to the gym. I clear my throat.

No, it’s not that. I just have a lot on my mind lately – the understatement of the year. I wave my hand as if saying; It will pass, don’t sweat.

Like what? Anything I should know… some dirty secrets you want to share? – I stare at her and my mood drops even more. I should have known that this topic would catch her attention. I glance at Matt and notice him starring at me too – just for a moment before his job consumes him again. Great, all I needed. MORE attention. So now I had two people, to look at me like a mad woman.

No, nothing as exciting – I say, turning away from my audience and putting the water on. Deciding that ditching the wine, would be the best option now. Who knew what I was going to blurb out next when the licker kicked in – Want some tea?

Tea? Wow, there really must be something wrong with you – She says, putting a hand to her mouth and pretending to be horrified. – Are you sure you’re not sick?

Very funny – I roll my eyes and wonder if getting hit on the head and forgetting who you were, counted as a sickness. Yeah, it probably did. Just not the kind, that you could cure with warm tea and a three day’s rest.

It kind of is… - she smiles again and turns to my husband. No longer interested in our little chit-chat – So, Matt… how’s your gym time. Getting the endorphins running?

No, no gym – He furrows his eyebrows as the sound of an incoming e-mail comes out of his heavenly box of joy.

And somehow you look like you attend it 24/7 – she says, almost purring out the words and I’m pretty sure some small vein in my body just snapped.

No, just the swimming pool… after work – he mutters, tapping away and drinking his coffee. The third one this evening.

Well it shows – she answers approvingly, nodding her head – Though I’ve got to admit, it’s hard to believe; considering the time you spend on that thing – she taps on the laptop and It’s the first time he looks up in a long time and gazes at her. She’s thrilled. I try to breathe evenly and not throw anything at her face.

I keep a balance between work and everything else – He shrugs his shoulders and adjusts the computer. Tara smiles and heads back to her original tactics. Relaxing on the sofa and finding excuses to touch my husband every chance she gets.

Is your laptop working okay? – He asks and it takes me a moment to react, my attention focusing on the enemy. I look at him and try to remember what he just said.

Yeah, I guess so… – it worked just fine, even when I started to hit it with frustration, over and over again. Not finding all the answers I needed. I would probably find more information on my phone, but that idea died a long time ago… since I couldn’t really find it.

Hmm, mine seems to be a bit off… mind If I use yours later? – He asks, giving me a full stare and I just shrug.

Sure, go right ahead – it was just a computer, what was the big deal about… oh right, I forgot. I’m living with mister PR and corporation inc.

My gaze drops back to Tara and of course she’s back at it again. She picks the remote control and flicks the channels, not really seeming to care what was on. Her head drops on his shoulder and her hand slips though his arm, as she makes herself comfortable. A small grin stretching on her face. She bends her legs and shifts them under, the skirt that she’s wearing rolling up slightly.

I can feel the outburst coming, as my agitation grows. Why don’t she just throw herself at him. Oh, that’s right she already did. My fingers tense on the counter, as my pulse quickens. A part of me tries be rational about, but that part is getting quieter and quieter by the second.

Tara ? – I start almost innocently.

Yeah ? – She asks distracted, apparently enjoying the situation.

Have you always been hitting on my husband, or did I just noticed it now ?

There’s a short moment of silence, followed by the noise of my husband choking on his coffee and spilling some of it on his laptop in the process. I raise an eyebrow and drop my piercing gaze from my “new” friend.

I’ll get the cloth – I say, without any emotions, like nothing really happened. As if I didn’t just throw a bomb in the room. Instead I just get a paper towel and hand it to him.

So any thoughts? – I turn my stare to Tara again – I mean don’t get me wrong, I think it’s harmless what you’re doing… I’m just worried about you. I wouldn’t want you to get a cold.

A cold ? – She asks a bit perplexed.

Oh yes, I know it’s almost summer but still; with a skirt as short as yours, it’s just a matter of time before you catch “something”.

You know, you don’t have to be rude about it. I’m just having a little fun, that’s all. It’s not like you said anything before - she says matter of fact, her tone accusing.

We stare in silence for a minute, waiting for each other’s reaction. Tension building in the air and making the hair on my arms stand up. I exhale slowly and try to shake off the deep frown that’s probably stitched permanently into my face by now. I was supposed to be the gracious and perfect hostess after all. Not someone ready to start a riot… I picture myself on a stage, with a sharp dagger ; speaking some over dramatic lines. This wasn’t the time or place to play ‘Lady Macbeth’ at a dinner party. Oh yes, I can already imagine the menu for such an occasion. Tonight’s special: ‘medium-rare rage with fresh spring jealousy ’ followed by some ‘sweet revenge’ for desert… Alright, another quick breath, inhale- exhale action and an almost convincing natural smile.

You’re right, I guess I’m a bit grumpy today… - putting it mildly, grumpy being an euphemism for raging jealousy that I had no idea was inside of me – I hadn’t really had enough sleep lately…

Which wasn’t exactly a lie in itself. I’ve been sleeping badly… since I lost my memory, my entire world and life collapsing all together into million little pieces.. you know, stuff like that. Tara looks unsure of herself, but tries to be civil as well. Probably more for Matt’s benefit than mine. She straightens her back slightly and pulls down her skirt for effect.

Yeah, I get that and I probably had too much to drink. You know how I am… silly little old me.

I smile pleasantly at her and she does the same. My gaze drops down to Matt and I blink a couple times. Funny that none of us exactly noticed him in the process. I look back at “the friend” and she stares at him too. Hmm, he doesn’t even look up’ too busy tapping away fiercely on his computer. Trying to ignore the whole situation and the world around him… still munching on the rest of his – now cold - diner. I cross my arms and try to stay calm and no longer act like a sociopathic bitch from hell. Feeling a bit guilty around the edges… okay, a lot guilty now that my rage has dropped and I could once more think more or less rationally.

So… - I clear my throat – How about some dessert than?

I wouldn’t mind – It’s the first time my husband actually speaks and I sigh in relief –

What did you order?

I didn’t – I say glancing at Tara, which doesn’t seem to be as pleased. Cringing her nose slightly, As if the ‘desert’ word was may be toxic somehow – I made it, from scratch.

From scratch? – He asks, like he doesn’t understand.

Yeah, took me a while… - I stop myself form saying that it took me so long , because I didn’t know my way around the kitchen and had no idea where everything was – Anyway, I baked a cherry pie… we had some cherry’s in the fridge so I thought I would use them…

Well, I’m not really a fan… – Tara breaks in, not seeming surprised that I baked something… or just not caring altogether . She starts to get up.

Wait, you made an actual pie, you? – Matt seems to be stuck in one though only. He shakes his head, finally not looking at his laptop and ignoring a phone call. I stare at him, puzzled. What now? Did I miraculously start to cook just now, or was I just lazy? Either way it was considered rude too stare like that.

Besides all those calories… - My friend still raves on, like nobody else had spoken. She wants to add something, but notices my changing expression and sits down abruptly – But why not…

I can feel the frown return. I didn’t know what was more irritating, my husband’s reaction , Tara’s attitude or her clothes.

Alright then – I add after a moment, making an attempt to sound cheerful and failing miserably. I back away to the kitchen and start to cut the pie, irritation spilling out of me; the knife in my hand making a lot of noise every time it hits the metal baking form.

***

So we spend the rest of the evening in a calmer atmosphere, eating dessert – well Matt does, we women feed exclusively on negative energy - and keeping casual small talk. Talking about insignificant things and pretending once again that nothing really happened. My husband throwing odd looks from his food. I try really hard not be offended. It wasn’t exactly rocket science or anything. I had all the ingredients and a fancy – unused – cookbook, which I actually didn’t use when I think about it… Honestly, why make such a fuss.

So, I’m guessing its edible…? - I ask sarcastically as he goes for the third piece. He looks at me suspiciously, as if this is some kind of a trick but digs in anyway. Some of the filling still in the corner of his lips. Tara just plays with her food , like the spoiled brat that she is - and I’m saying this with all the warmth in my heart … well, that’s the version I’m going with - not really eating much.

And that’s how our evening ends. In a casual way, politely and pretending to be civil. I get up, clear the table and put the dishes to the sink, while Tara runs off, giving out fake smiles and blowing kisses in the air… fake towards me anyway, leaving the smell of expensive perfume behind her...

........................................................................................................................

They were entirely in agreement. Or so it seemed. The affair lay between them, open; like a dare. There was something irking beneath the tongue; something menacing. A desire to test each other's mettle; to inspect the inner workings; to understand the tick-tock... and what would set it off. She brushed her hair... he sat ready, pensively gripping the sides of his bedroom chair — watching her front and back, as reflected in the mirrored armoire. Together prepping with no particular place to go; They were waiting for something, something definite, palpable, that much was clear:

" 'Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn,'

—Hey, does that sound cold?"

"Like a draft passing through the door..."

" Sure to persist then—"

"Persist like these chapped eyes and ears..."

"Even when we're old."

"...the Carribbean breeze's warm..."

"Hot damp breath will smold'."

"...And these cold gusts keep flames aglow?"

#Jealousy

#Interdependence

#MistrustingOnesSelf

#SeeingOnesSelfThroughTheReactionsOfSomeoneElse

#TheStrongDesireToBeOneAndOnlyFirstAndForemost