The old red Mustang GT was fun to drive, Edwina rediscovered. It wasn’t often that Orville lent her his car, but since he’d had the day off and was now watching a game on TV, he’d laughed and thrown her the keys as she was heading out to pick up the pizza they’d ordered. It was his way of apologizing to her for having to come home from work and then deal with dinner, she supposed. The GT was so responsive; it looked good because Orville took care of it, and Edwina felt younger in it.
Pulling back into the driveway with the smell of pepperoni wafting from the box on the front seat, Edwina tried to remember exactly when Orville had bought the car. It was right after they’d married, almost four years ago, and it was “vintage” even then. She’d been skeptical, but Orville was happy, and that seemed a good thing overall. Impulsively, she opened the glove box to look at the car’s registration. Yep, 2005, that was the car’s year, and Orville had bought it in 2019. As she was replacing the registration paper she noticed a pale blue envelope with the name of an unfamiliar doctor’s office in the corner—“Urology Specialists.” A tiny shiver of fear ran through her, but she knew Orville would have told her if anything were wrong. She opened the unsealed envelope anyway and found an invoice for his vasectomy, dated two months ago.
A vasectomy! This was not something they’d agreed on, and it was hard to believe. She wanted a baby, and Orville knew that perfectly well. She’d wanted a baby from the start, and she was already 33. Orville had said they should wait a bit, which she'd agreed was wise. But she wasn’t on birth control meds, and sometimes they didn’t take other precautions. She’d thought a happy accident would take place sooner or later, and that Orville was OK with that. In fact, she’d been hoping to begin a serious conversation about actually trying to get pregnant—going for it!—before it was too late. Now she felt suddenly hollow, empty, alone, betrayed. Not yet angry.
Edwina placed the pizza box and Orville’s keys on the kitchen table. She’d lost her appetite. The secondhand noise of a football crowd could be heard as she walked past the living room and into the bathroom. She hadn’t even turned her head to look at Orville, and wasn’t sure he’d noticed her come back. In the bathroom, she felt her eyes start to burn, and something akin to rage began seeping into the hollowed-out place inside her, but it was all happening so slowly. The gathering emotion was all she could pay attention to though. At this rate, articulation and reason would not return for days, and she’d have to stay in the bathroom all week. This thought made her laugh. And now the whole swirl of feelings was topped off by the realization that she’d been sharing a house with a stranger.
— Macoff
Pulling back into the driveway with the smell of pepperoni wafting from the box on the front seat, Edwina tried to remember exactly when Orville had bought the car. It was right after they’d married, almost four years ago, and it was “vintage” even then. She’d been skeptical, but Orville was happy, and that seemed a good thing overall. Impulsively, she opened the glove box to look at the car’s registration. Yep, 2005, that was the car’s year, and Orville had bought it in 2019. As she was replacing the registration paper she noticed a pale blue envelope with the name of an unfamiliar doctor’s office in the corner—“Urology Specialists.” A tiny shiver of fear ran through her, but she knew Orville would have told her if anything were wrong. She opened the unsealed envelope anyway and found an invoice for his vasectomy, dated two months ago.
A vasectomy! This was not something they’d agreed on, and it was hard to believe. She wanted a baby, and Orville knew that perfectly well. She’d wanted a baby from the start, and she was already 33. Orville had said they should wait a bit, which she'd agreed was wise. But she wasn’t on birth control meds, and sometimes they didn’t take other precautions. She’d thought a happy accident would take place sooner or later, and that Orville was OK with that. In fact, she’d been hoping to begin a serious conversation about actually trying to get pregnant—going for it!—before it was too late. Now she felt suddenly hollow, empty, alone, betrayed. Not yet angry.
Edwina placed the pizza box and Orville’s keys on the kitchen table. She’d lost her appetite. The secondhand noise of a football crowd could be heard as she walked past the living room and into the bathroom. She hadn’t even turned her head to look at Orville, and wasn’t sure he’d noticed her come back. In the bathroom, she felt her eyes start to burn, and something akin to rage began seeping into the hollowed-out place inside her, but it was all happening so slowly. The gathering emotion was all she could pay attention to though. At this rate, articulation and reason would not return for days, and she’d have to stay in the bathroom all week. This thought made her laugh. And now the whole swirl of feelings was topped off by the realization that she’d been sharing a house with a stranger.
— Macoff
good for Orville!!
ReplyDeleteHe should have discussed it with her! Anyway, I am going to carry on with these characters for the entire 40 days, I think. It gives me more freedom than struggling to remember and formulate attitudes toward and about my own personal maelstrom. I really figured Orville would come off as an asshole, and was going to gradually "redeem" him in the sense of revealing more dimensions. I did not expect anyone (you) to think him a hero. Now what? Maybe (since you are the only reader) I should UN-redeem him.
ReplyDeleteHe doesn't have to discuss it with her first any more than she would have to discuss with him beforehand if she needed an abortion. It would be nice to imagine that they would know more about each other before they (separately?) got so serious about the relationship. (I knew Bob wanted kids and I did not and that contributed to the ease with which I moved on . . . more of less.)
DeleteIt seems to me like these two about about to break up big time, so I feel like you are going to have two Separate stories to tell for Lent. You figure out a way to keep them together, then you have me hooked. :)
I've said for years that a woman does not have to discuss with her partner when she decides to have an abortion. I have also said that her not having that conversation indicates their relationship is probably not sound. Reading on ...
Delete