Excerpt : Untitled short story, page two

Millie hears Clyde complaining and using her name––every other sentence. She notices the clock on her bed table. It is 9 a.m. and she wants to go for a run. Tossing the covers to the floor, she rushes to the bathroom mirror. Pulling her hair back, she squints and notices a bruise above her eye. “I will not cover it with concealer,” she says. “I want the world to see what a husband can do to his wife. If I were his size, I would hit him back to show him that I am a loving wife just like he’s a loving husband.”

Splashing cold water on her face, she hears Clyde. He’s talking about things she’s heard before: he doesn’t get enough attention, he needs money, he’s a neglected husband, and he is mad for being locked out of the bedroom. He sounds like a recording or an old record with the needle stuck in the groove––spinning. Millie has heard it all before and retrieves her running shoes from under the bed. Sitting on the floor, she pulls them on and thinks that she might see her father’s attorney and begin proceedings to alter her miserable, marital situation. She pauses, when she hears the housekeeper, Daisy, joining Clyde’s one-sided conversation.

Millie listens from her monitor and eavesdrops.

“I baked your favorite pie, Clyde,” Daisy says. “Do you like my cooking?”

Clyde tone of voice changes to charming. It’s the same charisma that Millie remembers when he proposed to her. “Daisy, I like everything you cook. What’s that perfume you’re wearing? It reminds me of a scent I used to like.”

Millie listens and the expression on her face reflects shock. She thinks, it sounds like he’s flirting with Daisy. “Clyde and Daisy?” she whispers. “He doesn’t talk to me like that.”

Downstairs, Daisy giggles with her nineteen-year-old voice. “Oh, I borrowed the perfume from your wife. She won’t miss it. Are we still on for tonight?” she asks.

Clyde’s feet hit the hardwood floor. “Why did you steal from my wife?” he says, with a stern voice. She’s smart and will figure you out in a heartbeat. Besides, I paid over $100 for that perfume––leave it alone. If you have it, put the damn bottle back.”

Millie hears them move to the kitchen and Daisy is crying. “I only spray it a few times on workdays,” she says. “Please forgive me. “I can’t afford nice things and I wanted to smell good for you.”

Clyde is clearly not pleased. “Stealing is stealing, I should know, since I do it, sometimes. Forget tonight and go out with your young friends. Nothing should have happened between us, in the first place. I was too drunk that night and you took advantage of me. He paces the length of the front room. “It will never happen again—I have too much to lose. Leave.”