It's All Good

Charlotte had just started dinner when she heard her husband Randall drive into the garage. She went over to the window and saw him sitting in the car on his cell phone. She looked at him long and hard and could not shake the cold feeling that came over her. He must have felt her because he turned his head, looked directly at her and gave her a smirk that she was sure he thought was a smile. Then he said something to the person he was talking to on the other end, hung up and got out of the car.

Charlotte sighed out loud and went to the oven to take the rolls out she was baking to go with the spaghetti she was fixing for dinner. She would have loved to burn them to a crisp and shove them down his throat. She knew that Randall would already have something negative to say about the dinner. He always did but there wouldn't be a crumb left on his plate. Most times the plate looked like it could skip the dishwasher altogether and go straight to the cabinet.

"What's for dinner?" Randall asked as he walked into the kitchen. Not a hello, hi, how ya doin' or even a what's up cook?

"Spaghetti." Charlotte answered in a flat tone. Here it comes, she thought.

"Not in the mood for spaghetti, wish you had cooked something else." He said as he lifted the lid and looked in the pot. Charlotte had an overwhelming urge to shove his face in it. She decided not to comment because that would start a tirade of how she should do this, how she shouldn't do that or what she didn't do. Charlotte had enough of all of it. They'd been married for almost four years and the for last two and a half everything started to go downhill. They either argued or barely talked at all. Thank God there were no children involved.

Finally dinner was ready and they sat down to eat. Charlotte thought back over the last two and a half years. She thought about how he started having more and more muffled conversations on his cell phone in the bathroom when he thought she was asleep. Then came the late and later nights three, sometimes four times a week. Sex, what was that? They had become strangers and their house was no longer a home. She thought about how she cried for so long until all of the love was gone from her heart for her husband. Now it was to the point that she didn't care what he did and she figured he felt as much about her. She tried so hard to get back to where they were in the beginning, she'd even suggested counseling, which Randall wanted no part of. Both parties had to participate and Randall had other priorities before saving a marriage.

Charlotte had prayed and prayed until she didn't want to pray anymore. She'd come to the decision that if God didn't want her in hell when she died, He didn't want her in hell while she was alive either. She was so tired and didn't want to be with the man she had loved so much before.

"So, what did you do today?" Randall asked in a voice that said he didn't really care, he just wanted to break the silence. He actually startled her with the question and she stared at him a moment before she answered.

Charlotte cleared her throat. "I had Zumba class today."

"Zumba?" The fork he was holding made a loud clang as it hit his plate. "How long have you been doing that?" He was looking at her strangely.

"Um, let's see, about three months." She said calmly.

Now Randall was looking at her intently and suddenly seemed nervous. Charlotte wanted to laugh, but didn't .

"Well, why did you decide to do that?" He asked somewhat anxiously.

She took her time and chewed her food slowly and swallowed before she answered.

"It's fun, it's exercise and I love to dance. I've actually learned quite a lot." She told him cheerfully.

What she didn't tell him was that when she first started her classes, one evening as she was leaving and was walking to her car, she saw her husband drive up and then pick up another woman. Her husband had since been picking up that same woman for the past three months and then going to the same hotel. Thank goodness for cell phones with cameras. All you had to do was focus and click. It was easy, even when your eyes were filled with tears.

Her husband looked as if he didn't know what he should or shouldn't say.

"Is something the matter?" Charlotte asked in a normal tone of voice.

"Oh no, no, I---I, I'm just a little surprised is all." He answered in a quiet voice, his eyes never leaving her face. She gave him a smile and thought to herself "You bastard!" Charlotte knew right then, at that moment what she was going to do and she had no doubts whatsoever. In fact, she actually felt a sense of relief.

There was such a silence that you could hear a rat pee on a cotton ball.

"The spaghetti was really good Charlotte." Randall said finally as if that was the only thing he could think of to say.

"Really?" Charlotte replied and gave him a big smile. "Well, tomorrow I'll have a surprise for you!"

Randall's face seemed to relax and a smug look came across his face.

"Well it better be good!"

"You smug bastard!" Charlotte thought as she smiled some more and got up from the table.

Everything was good. Good for her. When her husband got home from wherever tomorrow, he'd have his surprise alright. She wouldn't be there. Charlotte had told Randall that she'd learned a lot in her Zumba class. She decided to let her lawyer tell him exactly what she had learned. Yes, it was all good and so was she.