08-10-2009

Start Fiction:


     The line was getting fuzzier, less defined. Robert had moments when he was not sure if he was awake or dreaming more frequently these days. Perhaps he was just tired, worn out, he often told himself. But he knew something was amiss.
     It hit him pretty hard today when he finally decided to confront Jane about her affairs. He was still upset about her kissing a man in front of him, in their living room, on their couch.
     She had acted as though nothing happened in the few days since. Then again, she wasn't too concerned with Robert standing there while she was acting like a teenage girl when the man she was kissing was whispering in her ear.
     It was ten minutes after five and Jane would be home soon. Pacing around the kitchen, Robert tried not to rehearse what he was going to say, what Jane was going to say. He knew it was time to speak up and he expected an apology, at least. However, he wasn't sure that was enough.
     Jane came through the garage door smiling, walked up to Robert and kissed him on the cheek hello. He pulled away a little, trying to keep his focus.
     "Something the matter?" Jane said.
     "I want to talk about what happened," he said as he leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms.
     "Ok," Jane said as she set her purse on the island. "What happened?"
     "The other night," he said, "you and that Cabana boy in the living room?"
     "What are you talking about, Robert?" Jane said as she leaned forward on the island.
     "Jane, I have put up with your promiscuity for years," he said, "but when I am standing there and you don't even care, or acknowledge me, that just tears me apart." Robert had made various comments and accusations over the years, usually in passing, but this was different, more intense.
     "Promiscuity?" Jane said, stepping back from the island. She stared at Robert, dumbfounded. "Robert, I can assure you I have always been faithful to you."
     "You're going to deny what happened in the living room of our own house?" he said as he threw his hands into the air. "It just happened three days ago!"
     "Robert," Jane said, "I was at my mother's in Chicago three days ago, remember?"
     "What? That wasn't three days ago," he said scratching his head. "That was a couple of weeks ago, wasn't it?"
     He felt nauseous; he was losing his mind, or perhaps he had already lost it.
     "Robert, can we please sit down and figure this out?"
He nodded and moved to the table. As he sat, he did remember watching Die Hard over the weekend, and he was struggling to remember if that was Friday or Saturday night.
     "You were at your mom's Saturday?" he asked, almost whispering.
     "Yes, Robert, I was," Jane said taking hold of his hands. "What's going on with you? Are you feeling ok?"
     "I don't know," he began, "I guess maybe everything is a little jumbled in my head. Sometimes I can't tell if it is a dream or real. Maybe the Cabana boy was a dream."
     "Maybe we need to get you some help," she said.
     They sat in silence for several minutes. Robert stared at the table and Jane stared at him. Both of them were not sure what to do next, where to go, but where ever they were going, they were going together.



End Fiction.