Cosmopolitan

Cosmopolitan says the way to a man’s heart is, “Two sunny-side-up eggs, greasy bacon, and a Cup O’ Joe. You will be his forever if you bring it to him in bed!” Elaine knocked over spices in the cabinet while searching for the instant coffee she swore she brought home months ago. She stood on her heeled tiptoes and felt around with her hand, her nails recently manicured, and let out a bit of laughter when she came in contact with a glass bottle. She read the label, recognizing the brand Sanka from an “I Love Lucy” episode. Often, she would turn on the television and watch as she washed dinner dishes, waiting for Ricky to come home and find out what Lucy had been up to. He was a cross man and she really didn’t like him. Though she had to admit, she sometimes wished she had a husband who came through the door before dark, calling out for her.

She placed the coffee grounds on the counter, along with the eggs, bacon, and English muffins with jam she had sitting on a plate. The tea kettle whistled and she rushed to take it off the stove, not wanting to wake him before she could bring everything in. She moved it to one of the cold burners and then returned to the magazine she had propped up in the window above her sink. She stared at the illustration of a housewife and read the blurb beside her mouth. “Men like their coffee strong. Try three tablespoons of grounds instead of two!” A slight burst of anticipation made its way into her chest like static as she reached for a spoon from the drying rack. She walked back over to the Sanka, wondering if he enjoyed his coffee black or with cream and sugar. She picked a mug from a shelf on the wall and blew into it to get out the dust. 

Her hands shook as she unscrewed the Sanka and tapped the metal against the glass for the perfect measurement. “One, two, three,” she counted quietly, trading the bottle for the kettle. She became hypnotized as she slowly poured, watching the translucent liquid spiral into the dark, murky abyss. Her mind seemed to move with it, thinking of all the things her doctor told her she mustn’t worry about. She forgot to take her vitamins. 

The intercom in the living room clicked on, the paging signal loud enough to pull her back to reality. Each house within a one-hundred-mile radius had one installed on behalf of the county, designed for the betterment and safety of their community. It sent three messages a day, one in the morning, the afternoon, and the final at night. Sometimes, it was something to look forward to, as it was a male voice with a soft timbre, that either gave useful or interesting tips. Elaine considered him a friend. 

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Hollis! I hope you are well,” Elaine moved to the doorway that connected the living room to the kitchen. She leaned on her shoulder and crossed her arms, letting her head rest against the moulding. “We are looking at a rainy day, so make sure to pack an umbrella as you travel outdoors! Finance checks will be on Friday of this week. We want to ensure that everyone is moderating their spending. That is all for now! Have a lovely day Charlie and Elaine Hollis!”

The speaker clicked off and she pushed air through her cheeks, letting out her last bits of reluctance. She returned to the task at hand and peered into the black substance she had made for him. It was better to leave out a step than make an irreversible one. There was a serving tray to her left and she began crowding everything onto it, trying to make it look as pretty as possible, for she knew she was not a very good cook. Cosmo always says it’s the thought that counts and she had put a lot of that into it. Once she was certain it wasn’t going to get any better, she reached for her apron ribbon and pulled at the end, folding it up before wrapping it around the Frigidaire handle. She took the tray gently and moved slowly toward their bedroom, praying she wouldn’t drop anything.

Their room always had the curtains drawn, double-layered to keep the sunlight out. Charlie worked laborious hours during the night shift, which meant he slept during the day. It also meant that when he left for work, Elaine was going to bed, and, when he returned, she was waking up just as he fell to the mattress. It had been that way since after their honeymoon when she believed he realized he made a mistake. 

Her heels sunk into the cornflower blue carpeting as she approached his bed. Charlie was a handsome man, with auburn hair, a sturdy build, and what many had called a Hollywood charm. He was too good-looking to be aware of it. She sat beside him, taking a moment to watch his naked chest rise and fall. He still looked like the man who wanted to be with her, he just never was. She set the tray on his bedside table and placed a hand on his arm, nudging it softly. “Honey?” she whispered, causing him to rustle.

“Honey, I made something for you,” she kissed his cheek, an almost foreign feeling, though she knew it was normal to do. “You have been working so hard and I just want to show my appreciation. I read in Cosmopolitan you might like this.”

Charlie groaned as he began to toss, kicking out his leg only to be met with the barrier of her body. His heavy lids opened, confusion crossing his face. He scratched the side of his jaw and propped himself higher on his pillow. “Elaine … what is it? I need to sleep.” 

“I made you breakfast,” she said with pride, gesturing to the assortment next to him. “Eggs, bacon, English muffins with jam, blackberry, of course, and coffee! I made it black because I wasn’t sure you wanted cream and sugar. Should I go grab some?”

He darted his gaze around the room, confusion setting in. “What time is it?” 

She glanced down at the watch he bought for her, “Nine O’clock.” 

“In the morning?”

“Yes.”

“I have to sleep, honey.”

She stood suddenly and picked up the tray, holding it out to him. He hardly noticed it, staring up at her with intolerance. She could feel her security diminish, standing there in front of him equivalent to having a yearly evaluation with the doctor. “I just wanted to make a nice gesture.” 

He said nothing. Instead, he simply reached for the mug and took a few hearty sips before putting it back. All that could be heard was the clatter of glass when it jolted, moving everything slightly out of place. She used a weightless hand to shift everything back, not noticing when Charlie took the duvet in his grasp and turned onto his side. His span went an inch too far, knocking Elaine in the shoulder and causing her to drop everything on their stain-free carpet she worked tirelessly to keep that way. 

“Elaine!” he shouted, covering his face and ears with bedding. “You can clean it up when I leave. Let me rest.”

She did as he suggested and left the breakfast there on the floor, jam seeping into the rug and egg yolk pouring out of its skin. She hurried out of the gloomy room and closed the door without fear of being loud. She walked over to the kitchen sink, leaning her palms against the metal as she attempted to keep all the emotion inside. When she saw she was failing to do so, she looked at the five–inch TV sitting to her left. She rushed to it, panicking as her shaky fingers messed with the knobs. The TV flicked on in static and the static intensified as she flipped through the channels. It took a few minutes for her to find the right station, one that she knew played reruns. She stopped on the one and the entirety of her body relaxed, the sound of the “I Love Lucy” theme song bringing her comfort. 

She sat and watched all of the reruns until noon, having pulled up a chair from the table, munching on strawberries she didn’t bother to rinse. Her concentration was only broken due to the intercom clicking on for its afternoon call. She lowered the volume of the TV and stayed put, straining her hearing as far as the living room. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Hollis, hope you are doing well! Just here to remind Elaine that she has a doctor’s appointment with Dr. Doyle this afternoon. He is assigned to her for the betterment of her mental and physical health. Also, Charlie, I do wish you the best of luck at work tonight. You are one of our most valuable engineers,” there was a disruption in the connection and half the message was missed. “Continue having a wonderful day!”

She checked her watch again, noting that she had to leave right then. She switched off the television and left her strawberries on the counter beside it. Her jacket was hung up by the front door, which she made her way to. She could see through the panel of glass just above that it was raining and she would, in fact, need an umbrella. She slipped on the jacket and left the house, fresh air hitting her skin with rejuvenation. 

It was a fifteen-minute walk to the doctor’s office and there were several other women from the neighborhood commuting there as well. They were all perfectly pampered and wore coats much like hers, in varying colors or patterns. Some were leaving the office, while others were arriving early, or late in which case they would be turned away until next week. Some traveled together, having found friends with their neighbors. Elaine walked alone, deep in her own thoughts as raindrops attacked her protective shield. She remembered something she read once that said women with beautiful faces and sad dispositions are hardly women at all. Surely she had to be a woman. No one would rightfully choose to be so. She carried on, her heels clicking down the sidewalk until they brought her right to the office secretary. 

The secretary knew her well, having been the one to call for Mrs. Hollis for the past six years. She smiled warmly and asked to see identification. Elaine reached into her pocket and pulled it out for her, handing it over without a second glance. She often went in before any of the other women, having special privileges for her long-time standing with Dr. Doyle. So, while the dozens of housewives piled in and took a seat behind her, the secretary motioned a hand for her to head on in whenever she was ready. She muttered a thank you, turned left, and into a narrow hallway that she felt would close her in at any moment. Her eyes lifted from the floor and at the end of the row of doors, she saw Dr. Doyle standing in his frameway. He bid goodbye to his previous patient, a woman who looked so put together in comparison to her. 

She kept walking, training her stare back on the black and white tiling. Dr. Doyle greeted her with a head nod and open arm, to which she ignored both. She made her way into his white office with all green accents. The leather loveseat, the chair that he would sit in, the partially drawn curtains, and the lamp on his desk. All were the same shade of hazy, emerald green. She took her place on the sofa, her hands cupped in her lap and her head slightly tilted. Then she began to cry, a rather violent, earth-shattering cry. 

Dr. Doyle went to her and knelt by her side, taking those petite hands in his strong ones. He was a gentleman twenty years older than she. Though, he was still extraordinary-looking, with salt and pepper hair, and rounded glasses that brought out his refined nose. He was stony in his expressions, though that facade usually faded during their appointments. He believed Elaine to be special and positively radiant—the perfect glass doll in a case. 

“Hush now, what in heaven’s sake is going on?” he asked, rubbing her knee. “This is very unlike you.”

He lifted her chin with his index, forcing her to look him in the eye. She messed with her ring, trying to choke back the things she wanted to say. Then she thought about how Cosmo says it is healthy for one to speak their truth. She sniffled in order to speak and then cried even harder. “I see you more than I see my own husband,” she admitted. “I long to hear the intercom! I made a beautiful breakfast and he didn’t want it!”

“The intercom?”

“No! My husband!”

Dr. Doyle stood, his brows crumpled in curiosity, and he took his seat in the chair across from her. He placed a finger to his lip and narrowed in on her lips, making her second-guess her appearance. “Mrs. Hollis … how did you and Mr. Hollis meet?” 

She was put off by his question, knowing he had never shown any interest in that topic before. She shifted for a minute, trying to get comfortable before rehashing the past. “Well, we met in an engineering course.”

“You were taking an engineering course?” he could not help the intrigue in his voice. 

“Yes,” she reiterated. “I wanted to do something I thought mattered.”

He took this in and then gestured to her to continue, “Go on.” 

For the next half hour, Elaine told him every detail. She started with the professor who paired them up for a class project. They were supposed to design and construct a rocket that did more than shoot into the air. Charlie was apprehensive at first, as his project partner was the only one who wore lipstick and a pearl necklace to the workshop. As they worked together, that initial impression melted away. He found her to be the most fascinating of women. She worked on the rocket after shop hours, occasionally enlisting his help in her parent’s garage. This led to over a month for the two to get to know one another, spending all their free time together. She was bordering on obsessed with making the perfect flying machine. One night, they were working until morning, installing the final touches right before they were set to present. It was then that she realized it didn’t do anything more than shoot into the sky. 

“We forgot the most important part!” she yelled, grabbing onto his arm with all her anxiety. 

Charlie laughed and ran a finger across her cheek. “Don’t you worry, I’ll take it from here.”

Only a few hours later the professor and all their classmates watched the rocket leave land. Elaine held onto Charlie as she squealed with delight, so proud of what they had done. He shushed her and pointed to his ear, indicating that she should listen.

“Will you marry me?” an unrecognizable voice asked, sending everyone into a cluster of whispers. They looked all around until, eventually, their heads tilted upward. 

“I don’t think a rocket has ever asked a beautiful girl to marry him,” Charlie whispered close to her tear-stained cheek. 

Her memory ended there, leaving Dr. Doyle in a rather slumped position. He began his analysis seconds later, connecting the intercom voice to the one she first associated with her husband. The very rocket project that landed him his job that he was forced to comply with. They discussed the psychosis that may have been linked to this event until night had nearly fallen. When everyone else had been dismissed until a later date, and it was time for Elaine to leave, Dr. Doyle led her to his office door. He placed a hand warmly on her arm, turning her just slightly. He reminded her to take her vitamins consistently and then he kissed her. 

“I think you should start coming in every day, Mrs. Hollis,” was all he said before she made her way back home. 

She did go into his office every day for the remainder of that week, and each session she was shown more of the affection she craved so desperately. She no longer minded being a woman. That was until she realized the consequences of pouring oneself into the whims of one’s sex. 

One night, after Dr. Doyle, she came through the door, humming quietly to herself. She shook off her coat and hung it up, setting her mind on bed. She made her way to the kitchen when she was brought to a halt. Charlie sat at the breakfast table with the very meal she had brought to him sitting in front of place settings. He sat at the head, a newspaper propped open on his knee. He got to his feet upon seeing her, going to her with a kiss on the cheek. 

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, hardly audible. 

He gestured to the assortment, giddy like a young man again. “I’m having breakfast with my wife,” he answered, as though it were an every night occurrence. “And I am also saying I’m sorry. I’ve been working to earn my PTO so we can have one week, uninterrupted, just to ourselves, honey.” He kissed her just like he had on their honeymoon, the way a man in love with a woman does. He brought her close to his chest, “How was your appointment?”

Cosmopolitan says a good housewife doesn’t always have to tell her husband everything.