I removed my hands from my face and gawked at her. “She’s dying, Jennifer. Can youunderstandthat?” I argued, shocked at how insensitive my wife could be. Jennifer and Mom had never truly bonded. Mom was otherworldly and a dreamer. Jennifer was a realist, a true stickler for the rules. She didn’t have time for incense and magic, but shewasfocused on getting ahead in life, damn the costs.
“Has she run out of crystals and potions?” she snarked.
I stared blankly at my high school sweetheart. Not so sweet after ten years. “You’re gross,” I hissed. “Do you hear yourself? My mother has stage four breast cancer and you’re joking about it?”
Jennifer looked nonplussed by her behavior and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and she’s ignored western medicine for most of her illness. I’m not a doctor, but anyone could have told her that herbs, coffee enemas, and her ridiculous crystals aren’t a cure.”
“Lay off of her,” I warned. “My mother has been nothing but your biggest cheerleader from day one.”
Jennifer laughed out loud at my statement. “Please,” she began. “Your mom has never liked me. She can’t stand that I’m an independent woman.”
I downed the beer and went for another. “What she can’t stand is how arrogant you’ve become since you started making the big bucks.”
She cut me off by stepping in front of the fridge, holding her hand against my chest. “Are thoseherimpressions of me or yours?” she asked.
I should have known better but I walked directly into her favorite topic: my disdain for her career. “Never mind,” I responded, looking away and hoping she’d get the fuck out of my way. I needed another beer.
“I think it galls you both that I make half a million a year,” she said. “And that I’m not a stay-at-home housewife doting on her husband.”
I felt the familiar anger rising in my chest. Jennifer and I used to be nice to one another. In the beginning I think we actually liked each other. Time and dull routines had slowly eroded any warmth we used to share. I didn’t blame Jennifer. I hadn’t been the best or most engaging husband myself.
“My father is dead, Jennifer. We’ve covered that fact already,” I reminded her. “And now Mom is headed in the same direction.”
“So I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you want to take our house off the market now?” she asked.
“Probably not a smart idea for us to be mid-move if Mom becomes bedridden and her health continues declining.”
“Weareselling, and Iamtaking that promotion, Michael,” she declared. “And, Iammoving to San Francisco.” She glared at me. “Withorwithoutyou.”
I fucking hated when she enunciated certain words in a sentence to get her point across. She sounded like the sorority girl she used to be. Also, when she called me by my proper name, I knew she was about to lecture me or argue her way to an eventual win. Somewhere along the way I stopped participating in our marriage and we all know where not being a team player gets you.
Jennifer was strong willed which was an attraction for me back in high school and college, but the past four years had been hell as she moved up the corporate ladder, pushing aside anyone in her path. I’d begun to think that included me. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I felt like our time was running out.
Working from home during COVID gave me time to assess my life and I wasn’t impressed with the direction it was headed. I wanted a good marriage but as the months and years ticked by, I realized that Jennifer and I wanted different lives. My dad’s death, and now Mom’s illness only magnified my desire for a life that was more fulfilling and less focused on wealth accumulation.
“Iamcaring for my mother, Jennifer,” I responded, employing her grinding enunciation tactic.
She gave me her iciest stare. “Good for you, but I am not going back to Idaho Falls. I hated that shit hole in high school and I’m sure as fuck not returning,” she announced. So much for the homecoming queen returning for a class reunion anytime soon.
“Even for the funeral?” I dared.
She removed her earrings and placed them in her palm. “We’ll see where I’m at when the time comes.”
“Thanks for the loving support, Jen.” I watched as she walked down the hall, her high heels clicking on the engineered bamboo flooring. “You used to be nice,” I mumbled.
She stopped outside the bedroom door. “Did you say something, Michael?”
“I said enjoy your shower.”
I gazed outside on a wet spring day. Seattle was notoriously damp this time of year, even though the past few years had been drier and hotter than normal. Maybe the whole climate change thing was real. I immediately thought about Mom and whether she could last through the summer. I couldn’t handle another death during the summer season. Dad had died close to the Fourth of July and then Cooper just before Labor Day a year later. I used to love the summers in Idaho with my best buddy and a father who spent time with me. Not so much anymore.
I felt alone in my own house these days. I had a wife according to a piece of paper, but the emotional side of that arrangement wasn’t printed on my heart anymore. Tears streamed down my face as the reality that my mother would likely die soon flooded my thoughts. I’d be alone. Totally and completely alone and I was only twenty-seven. I had Jennifer though, didn’t I?
No, I was definitely alone.
CHAPTER TWO: Mike
One Month Later
