Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Oh good.”
“Because we both know that I did, so it doesn’t need to be said.”
I shook my head. Sweet little Esther wasn’t quite the shy, passive woman I’d originally thought. I wasn’t mad about it.
“Thank you for my phone,” she said, looking up at me as I helped her into the car. “It’s very…shiny.”
“You’re kind of an asshole,” I said, barking out a laugh that I didn’t see coming.
“I am not!”
“Don’t worry, sugar,” I said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “I like it.”
The grocery store trip took even longer than we’d waited for her phone, but I liked it a hell of a lot better. I drove to the next town just to be sure that we wouldn’t run into anyone we knew, and I got to watch Esther in action.
I’d seen her sweet and soft-spoken, and I’d seen her riled, but watching her handle shit was a new experience. When we got to the store, she pulled out a piece of paper covered from top to bottom with a huge ass list. The thing was separated into sections—meat, produce, dairy, frozen, pantry—and each item had the quantity she needed written next to it. I followed her around the store, pushing the cart while she loaded it up, meekly taking direction and grabbing the shit she couldn’t reach. If I’d thought that Esther was cheap because she hadn’t wanted to spend a bunch of money on a phone, I was quickly disabused of that while we were getting groceries. She didn’t ask if we had enough money for the huge ass list, just moved from one section to the next, filling the cart until it literally couldn’t hold any more and she had to carry the paper towels in her arms.
“So, you made a list today,” I said, glancing down at her when we’d finally checked out and were headed to the car. I wasn’t even sure how we would fit all of that food into the Mustang.
“Was it too much?” she asked, way too late. I smiled.
“Nah, it’s fine.”
“It should last the next two weeks.”
“What?” my mouth dropped open.
“I planned meals for the next two weeks,” she replied easily.
“Why?”
“That’s how I’ve always done it,” she replied. Now she was looking at me with the expression I was pretty sure I was wearing. “Now I don’t have to go back to the store.”
“I don’t even know what I want to eat tomorrow.”
“Well, when you know, let me know.” She shrugged. “We have options now.”
“Guess we do.”
It started to rain while we were unloading the cart, so I convinced Esther to sit in the car while I finished, and by the time I was done, I was soaked and pissy. I hated being cold and wet. Something about the feeling of wet clothes sticking to me made my skin crawl.
“I could’ve helped,” she said the moment I’d closed my door. “I have a coat on.”
“It’s fine,” I snapped. “I got it done.”
“Are you mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
“You have to tell me,” she continued. “If I don’t know, then I can’t fix it.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Are you sure? Because you were fine in the store, but now you seem angry.”
“I’m not angry.” I could feel a water droplet rolling down the back of my neck, and I clenched my teeth together.
“You sound angry,” she pointed out.
“Can you fuckin’ stop?” I barked, slapping at the back of my neck.
It was like a gunshot had gone off in the car. Esther’s back snapped straight and she jerked away. Clasping her hands on her lap, she turned very carefully to face the front windshield.
I should’ve apologized, but in the moment, I was just glad that she wasn’t still harping on it because I wasn’t even mad. I was irritated that I was soaking wet and still had to drive all the way home, and I was tired after a full day of work and hours of getting the shit that we needed. I didn’t want to argue about whether I was angry or not when I’d already said that I wasn’t.
I sat in that space. Relieved for the quiet. Annoyed that my clothes were starting to heat and now they were warm and damp against my skin. Happy that we’d gotten the things we needed and were finally headed home so I could take my shoes off.
When we drove up the driveway, though, I realized that the ride home had been the longest Esther and I had gone without talking while we were together. Neither of us had made any small comments or jokes. We weren’t touching. She was absolutely silent. As I hit the button to open the garage door, I suddenly wondered if marriage was just going to be a cycle of feeling good, fucking up, and feeling guilty over and over again. If so, I wasn’t a fan.