A walk in the cemetery

Through the two large windows to the left of Brett and Linda’s front door the sun set over the mountains to the west. Where the sun kissed the horizon, pink illuminated the clouds casting blue shadows on the underside. The pink sky graduated to purple. The purple to blue and blue will become the black blanket covering the sleepy suburb of Cottonwood Heights. 

Brett reclined on the brown leather sectional in the basement watching Mr. Robot. Linda stood at the other end folding clothes. She placed her son’s clothes and her clothes in the laundry basket. Brett’s shirts and shorts were draped over the back of the couch to his right. His socks and underwear in a pile at the end. Brett paused the show as Linda started toward the stairs to put her clothes away. 

“You don’t have to pause it. I wasn’t paying attention and I don’t know what is going on.” 

Brett pressed the un-recline button and the electric motor whirred while Linda’s feet disappeared in the doorway. Standing up, Brett walked over to his laundry and began folding, as he did more frequently in the past few months. 

“Do you want me to leave the laundry basket here? Or put it away?”

Brett didn’t want last night’s fight to continue. The hurt, delayed his response. 

“Well do you or not? I’m not going to stand here all day.” 

“Yes, leave it.” Inhaling as if meditating, he continued folding his clothes. Turning to pick up the laundry basket he noticed Linda smiling. She was looking at her phone as she turned to walk upstairs. Brett was filling the basket with his folded clothes. His brow furled, movements slow and deliberate.

Linda looked over as she passed him to sit on the couch. She knew he was trying to make her feel guilty for not folding his clothes. She was sick of being his slave. She contributes half the income to the household, does all the chores, and takes care of the kids. One of which is his daughter from a previous relationship, Brittney. She lives with them full time. Linda’s two kids were only there half time. Yet they are not even a quarter of the work to take care of Brittney. 

Brett put away his clothes and came downstairs. Linda smiling at her phone again looked up, “Where is the basket? Did you already put it away?” He paused to respond. “So you left it upstairs? Of course, for me to clean up. Typical.” 

“No, I forgot it upstairs because I’m human just like you and we make mistakes. Typical? This is just like yesterday, you expect me to believe the best in you, yet you think it’s ok to think the worst of me? I have been saying the same thing for years. You are a hypocrite! You expect me to treat you with compassion and understanding but you are unwilling to treat me same?” 

Linda slapped her phone on the couch, “So you want to go there? To yesterday? When I caught Brittney lying about eating all the chocolates and you, of course, stick up for her and no consequences for her or anything she ever does!” 

“Yesterday I was asking you questions to get more information so I could accurately address the situation. My goal is to change her behavior so she is successful in life not just punish her. And you assumed I was defending her trying to let her off.” After a brief pause, “What happened to the rational Linda I married? Ever since you lost the custody case stopping us from moving to Manhattan you have gone crazy.” 

“So it’s my custody case and my kids and I’m crazy! Just like always, you never thought of us as a family and are always calling me names.” 

“Are you serious? The case was literally between you and Greg? And Greg crushed your dream of moving to Manhattan! Not me!”

Linda snatched her phone off the couch and stomped up the stairs, yelling without looking back, “You are unbelievable. I’m going for a walk!” Using her feet to put on the thin leather sandals she slammed the front door walking from the cool air conditioned foyer into the warm summer evening.

Linda text Denise,” I don’t know what to do any more.” 

It is better to text Linda’s best friend Denise. When she is excited, her voice is more shrill than a howler monkey with the same decibel’s, coming through a handset. “What is going on? Are you OK?” Denise asked. 

Linda stomped down the driveway to the sidewalk thumbs tapping across the keyboard, “Yeah, I just left for a walk. He was yelling at me and calling me names. I just don’t know anymore. He was bringing up old fights, and wasn’t listening.” 

“wtf? I don’t know why you stay with him. It’s not like he’s Mc Steamy or anything.” 

Linda walked toward the cemetery at the end of the street, “I don’t know either. I cannot be myself around him. It’s like I have to walk on eggshells whenever I’m around him. I have tried everything. He’s never going to change.”

Linda’s pace quickened, matching her heart pounding after seeing the message notification. Darren just text her. She switched conversations. It was a picture of her name in script surround by flowers. She smiled, cheeks flushing warm, and felt a little light headed seeing the bubble with three dots. “Hey I was just thinking about you and drew this. I hope you like it.”

Pressing on the photo Linda tapped back a heart. 

Switching back to the conversation with Denise, “Hey, I need a minute to cool down. I’ll text you in a bit.” 

Reading Darren’s messages again, Linda swiped away Denise’s message notification. “Have you seen the moon tonight? She is so beautiful,” she typed and pressed send.

A few seconds past and she didn’t see him replying. She started going over the facts in her head. It was after his last tattoo appointment so he wasn’t working. He finished over 30 minutes ago so he had long enough to get home. Maybe he was with someone else? Linda picked up speed while staring at the glowing screen. She didn’t notice the headlights when she stepped off the curb. A loud honk startled her into looking up from her phone which didn’t have the bubble and three dots that he was replying.

Annoyed and now looking both ways for cars, Linda continued to cross the road. With each step the pangs in her heart multiplied. Why hasn’t he responded? She no longer stared at the screen as she neared the fountain in the center of the cemetery. She didn’t need to look down to sidestep the pot hole that tripped her a couple months ago.

She felt her phone buzz. “It’s so weird. I was going to say the exact same thing. It’s like you read my mind.”

Relief released a smile, her fingers trembled as thumbs hover above the screen ready to reply.

Darren was replying again. “You know you have enough points for another Darren session of tying you up.” 

Linda blushed a little, “What do you mean? I’ve had one tattoo appointment since I claimed my last Darren session…”

She reached the embankment near the back of the cemetery away from the road and out of sight from the surrounding homes. Linda laid in the grass where she could see the moon but hidden from the nearby homes. It was the spot where she and Darren learned that they both loved the moon, the Utah outdoors, rock climbing, and the environment. 

“Well since you are a special customer and did such good job that night, I gave you extra points.” 

“Thank you, It was MY PLEASURE…” She typed boldly.

The phone lit up her face in the darkness while she waited for his response. The dots came then went away. Then came then went away. “Hey, what are you doing? Come over tonight.” 

***

Brett went upstairs and picked up the laundry basket from their bed returning it to the shelf above the dryer. He sat and reclined again unpausing Mr. Robot.

Before the next episode started, Linda walked downstairs and sat one cushion away from him. “How was your walk?” 

She was looking at her phone texting, “What?” 

He took a deep breath, “How was your walk?” 

She reached across the corner section to pull the blanket from the back of the couch placing her phone under her and covering herself with the blanket, “The moon was beautiful. You should go check it out.” 

Bret felt some release in his chest. It was the first time in days Linda’s voice was soft, almost caring or loving, maybe he got through to her. He paused the show and started whirring down the footrest. Before heaving himself from the couch to look at the moon, he covered her exposed bare feet with the blanket. Her eyes were closed and it looked like she smiled a bit.

***

The next morning Brett shaved at his sink standing close enough someone could pass. He knew Linda was still getting ready and would need to walk behind him. 

“Brittney spilled nail polish all over the carpet downstairs. I worked hard and spent a lot of money on this house,” Linda paused, “We worked hard and spent a lot of money on this house and she is ruining it.”

Brett looked at her through the mirror as she stood in the doorway. “Wait, so she spilled nail polish? Are you sure it was her? When was the nail polish spilled?” Brett turned around. 

Linda paused before answering, “Yes it was her. She did it this morning. She admitted to it!” 

Brett took a deep breath, “Woah, ok so have you told her not to use nail polish in her room? Or did she overhear you tell Sarah?” 

Linda stood upright, taking her weight off the door frame, “Yes, of course I did! You know, you are never going to change. I think you should find someplace else to live,” her eyes widened. Her voice, while firm, trailed off to a soft almost whisper by the last word.

Brett heard the words, “you should find someplace else to live.” He understood their meaning. Seven years ago, when they were first dating she made a comment that stuck with him, “When I am done I am done, I make up my mind and I go.” Stunned, Brett felt the full impact of her words and all the anger built up over the past few months was gone. The hurt, gone. How did she get from nail polish on the carpet to find another place to live? Just two days ago she asked, “What makes you feel loved?” Just last week she cried saying she wanted to fix the relationship and today, “Find another place to live?”

Silent, he walked past her, down the hall, down the stairs, to Sarah and Brittney’s room. Sarah wasn’t there, it was her week with her dad. “Britt, did you know you weren’t supposed to play with nail polish in your room?” 

Brittney looked up from her book, “Yeah.” 

Brett flipped the light switch in the basement bedroom. He couldn’t see much on the neutral colored carpet so he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight. The carpet had some definite red and blue spots. Used cotton balls lay on the carpet. Nail polish remover sits on the toy box with the cap next to the bottle where Linda left it before she stomped up the stairs to ask him to leave. 

Brett talked as if on autopilot, “Britt, we have rules for a reason. If you wanted to paint your nails you have to go upstairs in the kitchen, then clean up after. yourself.” 

Brittney stood up, “But Dad, I didn’t paint my nails I was painting my ponies.” 

Brett snapped, “Britt, it doesn’t matter what you were trying to paint. Was the nail polish yours?” 

Britt looked down, “No it was Sarah’s.” 

Composing himself so Linda wouldn’t hear, “So not only did you use someone else’s things. You did something you knew was wrong, and maybe ruined the carpet. If I cannot get this clean we will have to replace the carpet for the entire room. Do you know how much that costs?” 

Brittaney shook her head.

Brett sat down with his phone as a flashlight, cotton balls, and nail polish remover to clean the carpet. His mind fogged as if he were knocked unconscious then came to, not knowing what happened. The trauma clouded his thinking or maybe he was just not thinking. At least, not thinking about what caused her to end the marriage, he knew it must be him. It always was. How did they get to this place? 

Ninety minutes past. Brett dabbing at the carpet in silence, slowly, and deliberately. How did we get here? Surveying the carpet ensuring all traces of nail polish were gone, Brittney walked over with her head hung low, “Dad, I’m sorry for ruining the carpet. I didn’t mean to.” 

Brett stood and held her, “We all make mistakes. Learn from this, and don’t do it again.” Kissing her on the head, he then gathered the cotton balls and nail polish and walked upstairs to the bathroom that will soon no longer be his.