Balloons

BALLOONS

“Hey babe, you’re home early.”

“Yeah, summer Fridays! We leave at 3:00 instead of 5:00. I’m psyched to be home!”

I looked at the back of my husband’s head as he stood at the sink rinsing the cat bowl.

“What’s up,” he mumbled in lieu of the fantasy conversation that just played in my mind.

I watched him click open a can of cat food, scoop out a generous portion, and walk out the back door. I stood in the middle of the empty kitchen, the air beginning to escape my anticipation of the weekend balloon.

Pffffssst.

The clock glowed on the microwave. 3:51. If I was still at my desk I would be thinking nine more minutes until the final countdown, the last and most painfully slow hour of the day. The trick was to get through the shift without thinking about doing it again the following day. One more year until early retirement, I reminded myself. I wouldn’t be able to live on that income, but the fantasy beat the reality of nine more years to earn full benefits.

Pffffssst.

Another squeak of air snuck out. My golden years were racing towards me, and I was completely unprepared.

Jeff walked in from the backyard and strolled past me silently.

“Hey babe, we can go to that new Chinese buffet you’ve been wanting to try. It won’t be too crowded this early.”

“Yes! Let me change real quick and freshen up!”

Footsteps receded into the guest room turned office, and the door clicked shut.

Standing in the center of the kitchen, my feet grew roots that sprouted deep into the floor. The house was silent, and the possibilities of the weekend were endless. I felt depleted.

***

“I saw Sarah posted pictures on Facebook. Luke just got married.” I flopped down on the couch after clearing the dinner dishes, thrilled with Matt’s unexpected visit.

“Did Sarah post anything else?” My son asked, after a blip of a minute went by. It was hardly noticeable, but enough to make my senses tingle.

“No, why?” I asked.

“They got divorced.”

“Who?

“Mr. and Mrs. K. I just found out. How nuts is that?” Matt shook his head slightly as if dazed.

“Sarah and Ed Keller are divorced?”

“Yeah.” My son continued to talk, but his words became meaningless as they slipped into the background.

The Kellers were divorced? The power couple with five overachiever children. I hadn’t seen them in years since the kids were grown and our social circles dwindled. Facebook, however, continued to boast their success stories, the latest of which was the wedding of their eldest son.

Divorced.

I stood up, energy pumping through me.

I sat back down. Where was I going?

“That’s crazy,” I stammered.

Sarah, the PTA president and class mom. She was beautiful and efficient while managing to keep everyone laughing in the midst of chaos. Ed, the scoutmaster and coach. He was respected by the kids and well-liked by the parents. I searched my mind for missed red flags and found none. It was shocking.

Why did I feel a glimmer of hope?

“The story gets crazier,” Matt continued tentatively.

“There’s more?” I could hardly digest the news; there was no room for more.

“Yeah. Mr. K. is dating Victoria’s mom.”

“Victoria’s mom? Wait a minute. She finally left her husband?” I forced my thoughts to come into focus. Think, think. I never met Vicky’s parents, so the picture was hazy. Wasn’t her mom working around the clock while her alcoholic husband lazed about? How did the puzzle pieces connect her to Ed Keller?

“Yeah, she’s divorced. Don’t tell anyone they’re dating. I don’t think that’s public knowledge yet.” Matt lowered his voice.

Don’t tell anyone? I glanced at the door to the guest room turned office, tightly shut. The inch of space beneath it was dark. Wasn’t his project due today? I thought of the upcoming mortgage payment and the small bit of overtime I had managed to earn. I quickly calculated what was in the bank and what was coming in my paycheck. Just enough to cover the bills with nothing left over to save.

“Cheers! Look at this view. Unbelievable!” We clink glasses as the ship pulls away from the port. The coastline is every bit as breathtaking as I knew it would be. I smile and take my first sip of the fruity wine. All the hours of overtime were worth my long-awaited dream cruise.

Pffffssst.

I looked at my son and smiled. He didn’t need to see the last bit of air come out of my balloon. As if using a bicycle pump, I inflated myself up and offered him a chocolate donut and cup of tea.

***

Lying in bed after Matt left, I tapped in the condensed version of the breakup story. Lisa didn’t know the Kellers, so I wasn’t gossiping by texting her. I left out the part about the new dating scenario as I had promised my son to keep that under wraps.

I quickly reread the paragraph, added “What do you think?” and hit send.

Silence. Then typing bubbles appeared briefly and stopped. Finally, her message came through.

“It’s so sad.”

Sad?

Pffffssst.

My adrenaline balloon popped. She was right. Of course she was right. It was sad. What was wrong with me? Was I an actual monster feeling happiness at another’s misfortune?

I turned off my phone and lay curled on my side, pulling my blanket over me to analyze my mixed-up emotions. How many times had I imagined the freedom of divorce only for the shame of failure to rear its ugly head?

“Hi, how are you? It’s been forever.” Mwah, mwah as we exchange air kisses and smiles.

“How have you been? How’s Jeff?”

“Oh, you don’t know? We got divorced a few years back.”

Pity makes its expected appearance then flickers away. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all good. It was for the best.” Pom poms come out of thin air as I become my own cheerleader. “I’m very happy,” I add for good measure, the cherry on top of the lie.

Suddenly the world was on a tilt. The power couple was divorced. I pictured Victoria’s mother and Ed Keller smiling at each other, their eyes sparkling with the thrill of a new romance. Their once empty days became filled with walks on the beach and watching movies with popcorn and blankets.

They moved on and found happiness. They were blissfully living part two in their book of life, the happily ever after. Everything that marriage was meant to be and maybe was once upon a time was theirs. The little things and thoughtfulness became front and center this time around.

No, divorce wasn’t failure as I had believed. On the contrary, it was an achievement.

I lay in the dark room, the glowing digital clock on my night table staring at me. 8:10. Too late for a nap and too early to go to sleep for the night. My eyes burned with fatigue, and my mind was spinning out of control. I closed my eyes to think my thoughts and instantly fell into a deep sleep.

***

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were sleeping,” the squeak of the bedroom door woke me.

“What’s this?” Confused, I sat up and looked around, struggling to make sense of waking up in my jeans and T-shirt. Was it night or morning? Did I have to get up for the office already?

Jeff stood in the doorway holding shopping bags.

“I picked up your prescription,” he said, placing the smaller bag on my dresser. “It was on your to-do list. Oh, also got donuts. I noticed you gave Matt the last one, and I know you were saving it for yourself.”

Pffffssst.

My anger balloon deflated as a tear slipped out. Hastily I brushed it away as I mumbled my thanks.