Into the Colors

She took a long drag from her cigarette. She’d smoked like a chimney into her early twenties but had quit when she’d become pregnant with her first child. She’d sworn shed never smoke again, for the sake of her children. But here she was, sitting on the ground in the backyard of her quaint little house nestled in a quaint little neighborhood, inhaling the sweet poison like it was the only thing holding her onto the thin thread that had become her life.

She’d sworn a lot of things in the last 34 years. She’d sworn she’d never know the headache of a killer hangover again. She’d sworn she’d never feed her kids fast food when she was too exhausted from the demands of every day to fix them a decent dinner. She’d sworn she wouldn’t lose herself in the role of wife and mother. She’d sworn on her wedding day she’d remain faithful to her devoted husband.

She’d sworn a lot of things that weren’t panning out.

Slipping the forbidden relief into a half empty soda bottle she hid under the porch, she felt shaky and nauseous. The guilt was overwhelming but these days guilt came hand in hand with breathing for Angela.

The house was quiet as David had taken the children to the drive in movie theatre. They’d tried to entice her to come but she insisted she had too much to do around the house. She’d wanted more than anything to join them in an evening of family fun, but she felt the distance between her and her family was tangible at this point. The laughter and silliness that had once come so easy with them was forced now, almost as forced as the sweet, comfortable kisses she shared with her husband.

It was true, there was a lot that needed to get done. The laundry was piled so high she was literally standing on a clothes pile to get to the washing machine. They’d been living off pizza and spaghetti since the fridge was sorely lacking in fresh veggies; the frozen meals she’d once prepared for the coming week had long since been defrosted. The floors were smudged with a month’s worth of dirty feet, the mop had retired with her motivation. The bathrooms were shameful and the bedroom doors were permanently closed to maintain the illusion that they weren’t living in pure chaos.

She wondered if David had noticed how little she was really keeping up with these days, but quickly pushed that thought aside. Of course he noticed, he was the kind of husband who had always been in constant gratitude for how flawlessly she kept their house running. But he was a kind enough man not to mention her far she had fallen from housewife glory.

She considered using this time for productivity. She imagined herself moving quickly to catch up on all the things falling behind. She imagined the pride she’d feel when her family came home to a clean house, neatly folded clothes, and a kitchen full of nutritious goodness. If all was functioning on the outside perhaps she’d be functioning as well. Maybe she could recapture the joy these things once brought her simply by doing them.

But that’s not how life worked anymore so instead she poured herself a glass of Malbec and sat down at the kitchen table with her phone.

The kitchen was decorated to the tee with brightly colored curtains, place mats, flowers, even her appliances were cheery with their whimsical colors. She’d spent a boatload of David’s bonus on all this about 2 months earlier. She thought, once again, if she made it pretty and happy on the outside, her feelings would quickly follow suit. Instead it served as a daily reminder of how hopeless she truly felt.

Her phone was always on silent, no vibration to alert the world of his texts. So unlocking it now she found a multitude of messages. He mentioned how she was on his mind, he mentioned how the other afternoon was pulling him through the week, he emphasized how much he missed her face.

Sometimes she felt like she and Caleb were in this together, the two of them encompassed in their own dirty little world. But in reality she knew this wasn’t true. Caleb was in a miserable marriage, where they had both checked out long ago. His wife ridiculed him for pursuing his literary dreams and not living up to her ideal of a real man. And he hated her for constantly choosing her thriving career over their children. He’d been looking for an escape from his lonely existence for a long time when he found Angela.

What was her excuse? She’d decided when she a little girl that all she really wanted in life was a family. She wanted to marry her best friend and have 3 beautiful children to whom she would devote her life. She’d put her culinary degree to good use as she cared for the ones who meant the most to her. She’d find joy in the mundane and savor every moment, she’d be the picture of peace and gentleness; the epitome of womanly beauty. And here she was, living out her dream, her real life fairy tale. But somehow it was never enough, she wasn’t looking for an escape, this life had been her escape.

Caleb wasn’t an outlet for her, as she was for him. He was the bright blue curtains in a beige kitchen.