The Goddess

At lunch, Conrad sat with the guys, but his mind wandered elsewhere. The same old jokes and constant banter didn’t penetrate.

Conrad juggled the conversation he’d had with his wife, Rhea, over breakfast. Not exactly a conversation… Marriage is a struggle. ‘Isn’t everyone’s?’

He needed solutions. Why couldn’t she see there were efficient ways of doing things? Why couldn’t she do those?

Conrad perked up when Pip, from accounting, said, “…I don’t care at all about the ‘spiritual’ mumbo jumbo… This is so practical. Voila! My marriage is on even keel.”

Someone else said, “You’re kidding. A statue?”

Pip said, “Not any statue. A goddess, man. Those ancient Greeks were ahead of their time.”

Conrad broke in. “Greeks? Goddesses? Trying some new accounting tricks? I heard Pythagoras was on to something.”

Pip laughed. “You missed it. I was talking about the goddess strategy. Men would worship at the temple of their goddess. Their perfect woman.”

Conrad said, “…And so, Hollywood was born…”

Everyone laughed.

“No, you don’t get it, Con. They projected their ideal of what a woman should be onto the goddess. Offered little sacrifices, flowers and such. But it saved their wives from all their controlling and judgmental attitudes. By trading in the constant power struggle, they became partners.

Conrad let that sink in. “Yeah, mine won’t arm wrestle with me anymore…”

Everyone laughed. The conversation moved on from there and they returned to work.

But Conrad couldn’t stop thinking about it. Once stated, it seemed so obvious.

On the way home, he stopped at a New Age store he’d driven by for years but had never entered. Initially, the patchouli incense was off putting. He browsed around and stopped at a table crammed with icons and statues of various deities.

One in particular drew him. She looked like everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. The checkout clerk wrapped it for transit. He offered Conrad tips on the ‘care and feeding’ of his personal goddess.

He got to his car and couldn’t wait. Conrad unwrapped the goddess and held her. He gazed reverently at her perfect features. Through her, he saw the resolution of so many conflicts in his marriage. He loved Rhea. He didn’t have to agree, or approve of everything she did. With Gaia, his goddess, by his side, those rifts would disappear.

Looking at his beautiful Gaia, a sense of peace enveloped him. She was perfect, beautiful, delicate, sensitive and more that he hadn’t had time to comprehend. He recited the prayer that came with the statue.

Conrad realized he was falling in love with this goddess. She would solve everything for him.

When he got home, Conrad didn’t wait to put her in a place of honor in his home office.

Rhea stood in the doorway. “Dinner’s getting cold. What’s that?”

“Oh, something I heard the guys at work talking about. I’ll tell you about her.”

“She’s a hottie. What she for?”

“Guys were talking over lunch. Pip, you know Pip. He explained it. They each have one. Takes pressure off their marriage. The goddess absorbs the husband’s projections of perfection. And, in doing so, relieves the wives of false expectations.”

“And what am I? A lawn gnome?”

“No. No, baby. I love you. Now I appreciate you despite your foibles. For who you are.”

“Who I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me again, who am I?”

“You’re my wife. My life partner. One and only. My everything.”

“Uh huh. Everything except for…?”

“Well…”

“Does she have a name? Venus? Athena? Diana? Call her Hubris. Who’s the goddess of flaws?”

“Her name is Gaia.”

“You named her Gaia?”

“That’s her name.”

“Charming… So worldly.”

“She liberates you from living up to my expectations of perfection.”

“Great… Liberation was next on my ‘to do’ list. Any more freedom and I’ll evaporate. So, Conrad, you don’t think I’m perfect?”

Conrad chose his words carefully.

“We’re all human, babe – each has flaws. Gaia takes the pressure off.”

“I see. So, I’m liberated to be my flawed self. Thank you… Gaia…” Rhea bowed.

“You’ll see. She’ll lighten things up for both of us.”

“No doubt.”

You hate my controlling behavior… Like, when I insist on the blinds being set a certain way. Crumbs in the microwave. Shoes on the floor…”

She nodded.

“Now I tell Gaia about it and bypass a lot of… stuff.”

“Does she have superpowers?”

“No. She’s not magic. Gaia’s a perfect deity, representing all the qualities of femininity that men desire.”

“Like?”

“My goddess is strong, but she can also be vulnerable.”

“Oh… you mean like when I say I don’t like something, and you insist I’m being pushy and too sensitive.”

“Rhea, what’s your point? Gaia has empathy and intuition. She’s nurturing… She’s collaborative.”

“Wow! One stop shopping. Sounds like I only need worry about fresh batteries in the remote.”

“It’s not a competition, babe. You each serve different functions.”

“I have job security as chief cook and bottle washer?”

“Well, yes… and don’t forget…”

“Oh, right. I get the sex. Madonna, meet whore. Almost forgot that perk. By the way, no temple prostitutes please.”

“No. Right. Of course. Wouldn’t do that…”

Rhea met a girlfriend, Jasmine for lunch. Instead of conversation, Rhea ranted nonstop about Conrad’s goddess. Jasmine barely spoke.

Rhea said, “I’ll give him some projections. I’ve got foibles he hasn’t met yet.”

Laughing, Jasmine almost spit out her drink.

“Hubris thinks she can stand around looking pretty… That chick needs to step up her game and earn her keep. I’ll turn her into a planter.”

Jasmine couldn’t stop laughing. They high fived.

On arriving home, Rhea found Conrad staring at Gaia with such devotion, she couldn’t interrupt.

When he came out to the kitchen, she asked him, “How’s St. Hubris?”

“Her name’s not Hubris. And she’s not a saint. She’s a goddess… Like you.”

“I’m a goddess? So, you have a harem of two goddesses? Talk about an embarrassment of bi… witch… ahem… riches. What’s for dinner?”

“Surprise… Let’s go out.”

Conrad took Rhea to her favorite restaurant. They had a good time.

The next day, Conrad came home to find Rhea sitting at the kitchen table. She seemed distracted.

“I was looking at your…” She waved her hand as if looking for the right word.

“Goddess? Call her Gaia.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I don’t think she’s as perfect as you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“I noticed a little… flaw in the wood.”

He went over to Gaia and turned the wooden statue about until he saw a small indentation in back of her head.”

He gasped. “You mean this? That wasn’t there before. What did you do?”

“Nothing. Just looked at her.”

“It’s a nail mark. You stuck your finger nail into her.” Why?

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was checking to see how hard the wood was.”

“Leave her alone! Don’t touch her. She wouldn’t do that to you.”

She laughed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. She doesn’t have nails. She’s wood.”

He picked up the statue and placed it on an upper shelf of his bookcase.

She said, “I told you I wouldn’t touch her again. You think putting her up there will keep her safe? Some goddess…”

“Leave her alone.”

Rhea shrugged. They didn’t speak for the rest of the evening.

The next night Conrad returned from work later than usual.

Rhea said, “You’re late. Hanging out with temple prostitutes again?”

He saw what looked like a misshapen candlestick standing on her bedside table.

“What’s that?”

“You inspired me. I got a fetish for myself. His name is Priapus.”

“What’s he the god of?”

“He possesses the most valued male attributes.”

“Looks like a dildo.”

“Suit yourself. You’ve got yours. I’ve got mine.”

“Rhea, you’re missing the point.”

“Not really.”

“Gaia serves as an ideal. She isn’t a prop.”

“I get it. Priapus isn’t a prop. He’s ideal too. Want to see?”

“I’ll pass. I know what’s going on here. You’re jealous of a statue?”

She smiled and shook her head. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“What then?”

“It isn’t the statue. The devotion you shower on her belongs to me.”

“Let me explain, honey. She’s the ideal. You’re the real. I love you too.”

“Thanks for the smallest slice of pie. What ever happened to ‘Have and hold,’ and ‘for better or worse’?”

“I subscribe to those. Gaia smooths the rough edges in our life together.”

“What if you spent the energy wasted on that chunk of kindling on me? You’d be surprised. I’d respond in kind.”

“Rhea…”

She looked at him as if he were a used car salesman making a pitch.

Conrad tried not to plead. “How can we resolve this?”

It’s not a mystery, Conrad. It’s a simple choice.”

“Tell me.”

“If you want me to commit one hundred percent…”

“You mean?”

She nodded. “All or nothing.”

“All or nothing?”

“You heard me.”

But…” He couldn’t say it aloud. ‘I love her!’

Rhea picked up a book and began to read.

Conrad’s energy drained. He hadn’t expected such an ultimatum. The benefits of having Gaia seemed so obvious. So perfect for them both. Gaia was supposed to be a boon, not a source of contention. How could it go so wrong?

He knew what he had to do. Conrad took Gaia down from the shelf and left the house. He lay her onto the passenger seat and drove up the coast. In a few miles he found a turnout that overlooked the ocean. He stared at the magenta, twilit clouds on the horizon.

Picking up the statue, he left the car and walked to the traffic barrier at the cliff’s edge. A hundred feet below, waves crashed into the rocks. The foam glowed in the dim light.

With tears streaming down his face, he cradled Gaia with both hands.

“I never thought this would happen, Gaia. This is not what I want. I love you. You mean so much. But I can’t lose Rhea. She’s irreplaceable. I know you understand.”

With that, he flung the wooden statue as far as he could toward the water. The failing light swallowed it. He didn’t see where it came down.

‘I’m sure you’ll find a good home.’

Darkness descended. He heard the surf breaking. Returning to his car, he drove home.

Conrad let himself in and found Rhea reading in bed. Her statue of Priapus was gone. He sat on her side of the bed. She set her book down.

“You’re back…”

“Because you care.”

They smiled at each other.

He said, “Just so you know…”

“Hmmm?”

“You’re my all.”

“You’re mine too.”

In a close embrace they kissed and fell onto the bed.