The cold November winds rattled the panes of the window. Ice rimed around the edges, transmitting a bitter rawness into the room. Lucy begrudgingly set her sheets and scrutinized the room with shadowy eyes. She ran a hand through her messy dark hair and stumbled her way towards the window. Lucy squatted down and glared at the jumbling heater. She tried turning the nub to a progressive degree, but when it didn’t work she began banging on its side. “Damn thing. Work!” Rustling bed spreads came from behind her and she turned around. Mike, her mister, looked over at her and yawned into his hand. “What are you doing, Reviews?”. Lucy stopped banging on the heater and glanced up at Mike. He was a handsome youngish man with a PhD in law and born to a well -fixed family to thrill. Ultimate women in her Sunday brunch club loved him and could nowise stop gushing about how lucky Lucy was to have snared herself a principal, successful mister. If only they knew. Lucy eased herself back up and signaled at the heater. “It won’t work, Mike. I supposed you had it fixed last week. ” Mike wailed and eased himself up the bed. “I said I was going to fix it. But with everything coming about at the enterprise and laying people off. I just didn’t have the time.” In the line of Smith girls, Lucy had what her grandma would call the Smith Twitch. It was individual that couldn't be helped and chanced to every woman in her family when she was galled like you couldn't believe. This was clearly one of those moments. Lucy pressed her cutlets to her mouth in a prayer[1]correspondent gesture. She gormandized once and soughed, looking over at her man. “Mike. You promised me.” “I do n’t get why this bugs you so much, Lucy. ”Mike gestured at the bedroom door. “There are supererogatory plains down the hall and in the sprats’ room. Why don’t you just get some and bring them back? ” “Oh,” Lucy funned.“ So now I've to take the cubs to academe, care for your sick mama, buy the groceries, and do your bidding? What ’s next, Mike? Are you going to ask that I quit my job too?”. Mike soughed and squeezed the tail of his neck. “Why do you always have to be so dramatic? ” He looked Lucy over, as though he were assessing her worth. “And, indeed, how tectonic plutocrat can you actually make from writing those horror books?”. “It’s what I love and am good at, Mike. I supposed you would be a little more verifying.” “Right, because vending two books in three freaking dates is such an accomplishment.” The room quieted with an air of pressure that was fair suffocating. Mike moved to get out of the bed.“ Lucy, no. I didn’t mean ” She held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “No. You did.” Tired and beyond fed up with this shitty night, Lucy moved to leave. Mike ’s eyes tracked after her, uneasy and confused as to what he should do. “Where are you go” “I ’m getting a drink. Go back to sleep.” Without another word, Lucy walked out of the room and shut the door, cutting Mike off. She so poorly wanted to slam it, but didn’t want to wake up her babies. God, she could not bide for that drink.
***
Downward the kitchen lights illuminated glass presses and a bottle of half-finished wine on the counter. Lucy sat with her elbows leaning on the counter, twirling her glass of wine. Whenever Mike and her got into these quotidian fights of theirs, she inaugurate that her good old glass of wine was always the quickest remedy to escape. Escape from the blames hanging over her comparable smother choking the life out of her. Escape from a man who refused to kiss, agree, or yea make love with her for such a long time. Just escape from everything. Lucy set the glass of wine down and was readying to head back upstairs when the home phone tolled. Curious, she walked over and picked up the phone. “Hello?” “Lucy? That you?” At the sound of that rich, smooth voice Lucy couldn’t help the smile that stretched her face. “Hey, Riecke. What, uhm. Why are you calling this late? ” Screaming came from the other end. “I had a feeling you would be up. Last I saw you this morning, you looked like the walking dead.” Lucy choked. “Of course, you would say that.” The two briefly laughed in concerted diversion before Riecke ultimately decided to cut in. “Seriously nonetheless. What ’s going on?” “Nothing! Nothing, I just I was so tired and I demanded to pick up the kiddies, so I”. “No, I ’m not talking about this morning when we” Riecke soughed long and hard on the other hand. “I ’m not talking about that. I mean what ’s going on with you right now. Why are you up so late?”
Damn, Lucy could feel the surge of a color toasting all the way down to her neck. She wanted to bury herself alive and forget the last five seconds. Or morning. But she couldn’t take it back. Yea though it felt so right and good at the time. she knew it was wrong. Lucy was married and no matter how terrible of a hubby Mike was, she had to put her family first. “Right Right, of course! I didn’t mean to. I just got into a fight with Mike again.” Lucy tried to laugh it off.
“What can you do, am I right?”. She could imagine Riecke shaking her head on the other side. “Not funny, Newspapers.” “Yeah. Sorry.”
Rustling sounded from the phone and creaking, like someone sitting on a president. “Don’t be sorry. I just want to help any way I can.
However, either …” , If you and Mike are having troubles. Lucy clung the phone harder in her hand, eager to hear what Riecke had to say. “ yeah? ” A pause that felt like a millenia passed before Riecke soughed into the phone. “Look. I ’ve known you since we were little girls, Gazettes. Sure, we nowise got along at first, but you always did what you supposed was right. ”Riecke whiffed. “You ’re my transportation or die, hon. That’s nowise going to change. No matter if when you sort this stuff out with Mike. You can make it work. I know you can.” Lucy wanted to scream into the phone.
So, what they did that morning meant nothing to her? Because it clearly meant substance to Lucy. And. why was she so angry about this? She was matrimonial! If anything, Lucy should be regretful and soliciting Mike to forgive her, right? Right. “Yeah, you ’re right. I ’m sure if we just talk about it and sort movables out, it ’ll be fine.”
“Good.” “Yeah.” “So …” Riecke stopped to suppose about object, either mused, “See you hereafter? Same time?”. Was she insinuating what Lucy supposed she was insinuating? If so, why the hell was she doing this now? It was like a nowise ending cycle between them. No matter how hard Lucy tried to pull back, Riecke and her always initiate a way back to each other again. How could commodity so wrong feeling so right? This was bad. Lucy knew this was bad, but she could n’t stop herself from replying, “Yeah. See you by and by. Miss you.” “. Miss you too, hon.” Lucy hung up the phone and looked over at her half empty wine glass. There was going to be hell to pay for this. But she just didn’t care. Not presently.
***End***