One Day You'll Understand

This isn’t how it was supposed to be.



The first beams of morning sunlight were just starting to peak through the blinds when Hannah opened her eyes. Time to start the day.



Look at what your life has become. There’s got to be something more.



The water chilled her skin as it cascaded out of the showerhead, goose bumps prickled up and down her arms and legs. She leaned her face into the water, eyes closed, lips barely parted.



You can’t stay like this forever. This is no way to live.



Switching the water off, Hannah cautiously stepped out of the tub, and grabbed a towel from the rack. The cotton was rough against her skin, but felt warm after the cold shower. Wrapping it around her lithe frame, she glanced at the reflection in the mirror. Her hair laid limp down her back, already beginning to twist into loose curls as it began to dry. Her eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes, were puffy from sleep. Or lack of sleep, if she was being honest. With one hand, she ran the backs her fingers over her cheek, watching her reflection mirror her actions.



Maybe you should just go. They’d be better off without you anyway.



Hannah sighed deeply. These thoughts had been there before, and she had the feeling they would be until she did something about them. She had asked Jamie more than once if he thought she should see someone about it, professionally, but he always dismissed it as nothing serious. Opening the vanity drawer, Hannah pulled out a small makeup bag and pulled open the zipper.





Look at yourself, look at what you’re doing. They deserve better than this.



The bag fell open, and for a moment she simply gazed at it, conflicted. Tears burned at the back of her eyes, pushing to be released, but she fought them back.



Crying won’t make it better, it just shows how weak you are.



Her fingers brushed over the razor blades, all tucked meticulously into their clear plastic sleeves. Carefully, she pushed one out, and studied the blade, turning it in the light. Her eyes met those of her reflection.



You told yourself you would never do this again. You can’t even keep your promises to yourself. How do you expect to be the woman they need you to be?



Hannah closed her eyes, and salty tears squeezed between her lashes, spilled down her cheeks. The blade found the spot it had found so many times before, on the right side, right under the third rib. Her fingers traced the faint scar, almost healed, but still pink. The skin was smooth to the touch. She pulled it tight as she pressed the blade to the skin, and inhaled sharply at the touch of the cold metal. Slowly, ever so slowly, she drew the blade across the scar, careful not to vary from it in any way. There would be too many questions to answer if she did not do it perfectly. Opening her eyes, she watched as the blood seeped slowly out of the fresh wound, and a single drop rolled down her side. It seemed like forever she stood there, although it was mere seconds. As the blood left her body, the voice faded into a whisper, like a fly buzzing too close to your ear. It would come back later, she knew, and stronger, but it would make the day easier. She let out a long breath, as though she had been holding it in for years.



You’re so pathetic.



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The morning light streamed in between the blinds, spilling across Jamie’s face, but he was already awake. He had felt Hannah roll out of bed, had listened to her as she showered, and could now hear her in the bathroom opening and closing drawers as she prepared for the day. She would come in any minute to wake him, as she had done every morning for the past eight years. When she was sure he was awake, she would dress, wake their daughter, Grace, and start breakfast while he showered, shaved and dressed. By the time he came down to the kitchen, there would be a warm breakfast on the table, and his lunch for the day would be packed. Jamie smiled to himself thinking of the routine. Hannah took such pleasure in taking care of others – it was one of the many reasons he had been so taken with her from the start, when they first met when he was just a seminary student and she was just the new member at his parents’ church.



The hallway went dark as Hannah turned the bathroom light off, and Jamie could hear her footsteps as she came toward the bedroom. Quickly, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, giving the appearance of sleep. He heard her open the door slowly, careful not to disturb him, and walk toward the bed where he lay. She opened the dresser and he recognized the sounds of her pushing clothes around, searching. Peeking through mostly closed eyelids, he saw her at the dresser by their bed, back to him, rummaging through her underwear drawer. She was dressed in a short silk robe, tied with a sash at the waist, and ending just below the delicate curve of her buttocks. Long legs spilled out of the bottom, so smooth and silky it was a challenge not to reach out and stroke them. But he would not give himself away. Hoping she did not turn to catch him looking, he continued to watch as she undid the sash and the robe fell open, then became a puddle on the floor as she shrugged it off her shoulders. He held his breath so as not to moan, realizing, as he did every time she undressed, how incredibly beautiful she was. He wanted to trace the curve of her rear, to the small of her back, slip his hand around her trim waist, then bring it up to her small breasts, and cup them in his palm. He felt himself becoming aroused, and thought briefly about seizing her right then and pulling her down onto the bed with him. It had been almost two weeks since they had enjoyed each other, and he could afford to get a late start this morning, he thought.



But just as he began to reach out for her, he noticed a strange look in her eyes, an odd twist to her lips, and he hesitated. She seemed far away, he thought, and agitated. He pulled his hand back just as she turned to face him, arms twisted behind her back as she clasped the lacy bra around her ribs.



“Good, you’re awake.” She sighed, turning back to the dresser and pulling out the matching lacy briefs. “I’m running a little behind schedule this morning. Best you go get your shower started now.” She stepped into the panties, and bent over to give him a quick kiss on the forehead before she turned and walked into the closet. Light flooded the room as she flipped the switch, but quickly faded as she closed the door behind her with a click.



Groggily, Jamie swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipping his feet into the cotton slippers that rested on the floor. His arousal was still obvious, and he sighed in disappointment as he slowly stood on tired legs. He shuffled into the bathroom, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes, and reached down to turn on the water in the tub. He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pummel his face and chest. Reaching for the bar of soap, he hurriedly scrubbed his face and chest, making his way down his body. His slippery, soapy hands found his groin, and for a brief moment he considered finishing what his body had started in bed minutes before. He shook the thought out of his head, knowing just how many minutes he would have to spend on his knees in prayer if he allowed himself even that temporary pleasure. He had worked too hard for the last ten years, maybe more, to shape himself into the epitome of morality and wisdom, and he knew it wasn’t worth it today, just as it wasn’t worth it on any other day. Tonight, when he got home, he would make a point to romance his wife a little more enthusiastically than the nights before. Maybe tonight would be more rewarding than the last seven or eight. He had to believe it would be so, or he started to doubt if maybe there really was something brewing underneath their marriage. Hannah had just seemed to be so distracted lately, thoughts always somewhere else, but he was still a man, and she was still a woman, and it would be good for both of them to be intimate. She just needed a little more convincing.



He heard a faint tapping on the bathroom door, indicating that Hannah was dressed, and she was going to wake Grace before heading down to the kitchen. Jamie rinsed the remaining suds from his hair and turned off the water. He needed to get moving if he was going to get to the church by nine.



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Hannah rinsed the suds off her hands, shaking the remaining droplets of water into the sink, and dried her hands hastily on the towel hanging on the front of the oven. Jamie had left for work not even ten minutes ago, and Grace was upstairs collecting her things for school. School started at nine thirty, and Grace needed to leave the house shortly or she would be tardy. Hannah gave the kitchen a once over, making sure everything was put away and clean so she could leave the house under a clear conscience. She had cleared the table immediately following breakfast, almost before Jamie had put down his fork from taking the last bite of his vegetable omelet. He had grumbled that bacon would have made it better, but he had still cleaned his plate, and Grace had enjoyed the pancakes, even if they were whole wheat. Grace had grown up eating Hannah’s healthy cooking, but even after eight years, Jamie was still adjusting from his mother’s indulgent Southern cooking. Not to mention he was too stubborn to credit her cooking for his weight loss over that time. Hannah just hoped the habits would stick with Grace and make it easier for her to be a healthy adult, despite her dad’s grumbling.



Hannah heard footsteps come down the stairs, and turned to see Grace coming down the stairs, struggling to get her arms through her bulging backpack. Schools had too many books these days, Hannah thought, and too much homework. Some days, Grace was still finishing her homework when Hannah called her for dinner. Four hours a night, some days. Much too long for a seven year-old to be cooped up in her room, Hannah decided. When was she supposed to spend time with her family? Hannah had mentioned the dilemma at the last parent teacher conference, but the teacher was full of excuses about test preparation and state licensing standards. Hannah just tried to make the most of weekend time, and helped Grace with her homework when asked, which wasn’t often. Grace had too much of her father’s stubborn nature to ask for help most of the time. She could figure out the problems herself, she said, and Hannah allowed her the challenge, even if it did take a little longer. Jamie claimed that Grace’s “persistence” was responsible for her excelling in school, and advised Hannah to allow her to approach problems in her own way, according to her personality. She would have preferred to help Grace, if only to have more time with her in any given day, but she acquiesced, knowing he was probably right in this instance.



Grace had her backpack on now, and was sitting on the bottom step tying her shoes. Her uniform had been meticulously ironed the night before, and always gave Hannah a small swell of pride when she saw Grace in it. She always looked so grown up in it, crisp white shirt embroidered with the school seal, tucked neatly into the red and blue plaid skirt that hung to her knees, and finished with ankle socks and plain white tennis shoes. Hannah had been unsure when she first learned the private Christian school required uniforms, believing a child should have the freedom to express themselves through clothing, but Jamie insisted that the uniforms “leveled the playing field,” making each child less susceptible to teasing based on appearance, and reduced materialism, a growing problem in young children. He firmly defended the choice, since it so aligned with the school’s moral teachings of humility and modesty, especially for girls, and over time Hannah had come to accept it as well. It had significantly reduced the need for shopping, since Grace was fitted for a new uniform every school year, and she often wore it at home in the evenings, changing only at bedtime into her pajamas. Grace claimed to enjoy the uniform, saying it made getting ready easier in the morning, since she knew exactly what to wear each day. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were the blue seal days, and Tuesdays and Thursdays were red seal days. Alternating the days gave Hannah time to add it to the laundry, and Hannah insisted on ironing it every day, first thing in the morning. Grace had always been so independent, a trait Hannah had encouraged since she was a toddler, but sometimes it made her feel that Grace didn’t need her, and it put a distance between the two of them that made Hannah lonely occasionally.



Grace, shoes now securely double-knotted, came into the living room, where Hannah was arranging the magazines on the coffee table, making a mental note that the furniture needed dusting this afternoon after she got home from work. It took her a moment to notice her daughter standing in the doorway. Walking towards her, she squatted in front of her to be more at the child’s eye level.



“Ready to head out, I guess?” she asked, and Grace responded with a nod. “Remember, I’ll be at work till three, but I should be home by three thirty. Have your key?” Grace nodded again, pulling the key out from where it hung around her neck on a simple leather cord. Grace would be walking to and from school, as she usually did when the weather was reasonable. Normally, Hannah would be quite uncomfortable with a seven year-old being by herself at home, but Grace had proved herself to be very responsible, and it was only half an hour, she reasoned. Grace glanced towards the door, and Hannah got the cue that she was impatient to leave. Her daughter hated to be late, and was all too aware that any stalling could cost her her perfect attendance record for the school year so far. “If you need anything, just call Mrs. Jenkins or go next door. Have my work number?” Grace gave her an impetuous look, seemingly offended that her mother could assume she had forgotten anything. “Of course. Silly Mommy.” Standing slowly, she gave the girl a quick kiss on the top of the head, trying not to notice Grace instinctively smoothing the hair she had pulled into a tight high ponytail. She used to love getting kisses from me, Hannah mused regrettably, when did that fade? Grace was growing up in front of her eyes, and nothing she could do would stop or slow it.



“Have a good day, Mom,” Grace quipped, adjusted the straps on her backpack, and walked out the front door.



Hannah stood in the living room for a few minutes after Grace left, feet feeling rooted in place. The house stood silent with no other people in it, and she suddenly felt deeply alone. She thought about how nice it would be to have an animal in the house, a cat or dog, to give the place more personality, but Jamie claimed he was allergic to both. Hannah suspected he just wasn’t an animal person, but either way it was probably not worth it to bring one into the house, she reasoned. Giving herself a small shake, she came back to the present, and realized she also needed to leave if she was going to make it to the hair salon on time for work. Marie was a stickler for punctuality, and would give her a stern talking to if she didn’t get there on time to sweep the floors and make sure each cutting and washing station was stocked. Making sure all the lights were turned off downstairs, Hannah grabbed her purse from the hook by the door and locked it behind her as she left the house.