(no subject)
"But no matter how Jen tried to focus on the numbers, she couldn't keep herself on-task today. Finally she turned away from the screen and dialed the cordless phone.
"Hey, honey," she said when Eric picked up. "How's New York ?"
"Frigid and claustrophobic. How's the weather there ?"
Her husband sounded distant and distracted, but business travel exhausted him, so Jen chalked it up to the strain of too many time zone changes and room service meals.
Jen sighed. "Gorgeous. As usual. Do you have a minute to chat ?"
"I think I can pull myself away from the division account books." His tone was wry. "What's up with you ?" he asked. "Let me take a wild guess: you're working ?"
She paused, making a concerted effort not to tense up. "Just going over the new sales reports."
"It's like I'm psychic."
"Either that or I'm incredibly boring and predictable." She summoned all her nerve, and forged ahead. "But listen, I have an idea. Do you want me to fly out there ?"
"Where, New York ?"
"Well, yeah." She laughed, suddenly girlish and flustered. "I could go on-line right now and book a flight. Be there by midnight."
"Tonight ? Really ?"
He didn't have to sound so startled. "Why not ? Surely they don't expect you to work all weekend ?"
"Well, no, but I figured since it's such a long flight back and I have so much left to do out here, I'd just stay at the hotel until-"
"Perfect timing then," she said. "We're always saying we should go somewhere together, take a real vacation."
Eric cleared his throat.
"Oh, forget it," she said. "That's stupid, right ? I know. You're reading reports and overseeing things and, uh .. auditing. You don't have time for-"
"No, no," he stammered. "Come on out. It'll be great. We'll go see a show or something. Be total tourists. Take a carriage ride in Central Park."
"Never mind. I don't know what got into me." Jen gnawed the inside of her cheek. "I have a lot going on out here. And besides, someone has to feed the cat."
"Right, the cat." Another long pause. "Well, I know you're working."
"I am, indeed," she said brightly. "And so are you. We'll do it some other time. Plan something really special."
"Absolutely. Go someplace exotic."
"Tahiti, maybe. Or the Canary Islands."
"Whatever you want." His voice was flat.
"I'll look up resorts on-line," she promised, but she knew - and so did Eric - that this mythical vacation was never going to materialize.
Another agonizing silence ensued. Jen squirmed in her cushy leather desk chair.
"Okay. Well, you're busy," he said. "I'll let you go."
"Stay warm !" She flinched at her own forced joviality. "Have a fresh bagel with lox for me."
"Will do. Love you."
"Love you, too."
And that, she told herself sternly as she hung up the phone, would have to be enough. Eric was a good husband, and Jen tried hard to be a good wife, but the truth loomed between them, unspoken but undeniable. They loved each other, but they weren't in love.
She clicked back to her data files, but couldn't process the information splashed across the computer screen. The burn of shame and failure spread through her body. No way could she sit still."
In my last (public) entry dated 30 Sept, I got this annoymous comment:
It's screened as with all anonymous comments on my blog because I moderate them but anyway, to Anonymous: Give me a name - your name, elaborate on your accusations (subjective, of course), and I promise to rebut every.single.point. I'd love to have someone leave me speechless, feeling all fuck-shit-I'm-gonna-get-karma. So honestly, go on.
I don't have to justify my relationship(s) to anyone but y'know, it'd be nice to hear what the grapevine's on about.
"Hey, honey," she said when Eric picked up. "How's New York ?"
"Frigid and claustrophobic. How's the weather there ?"
Her husband sounded distant and distracted, but business travel exhausted him, so Jen chalked it up to the strain of too many time zone changes and room service meals.
Jen sighed. "Gorgeous. As usual. Do you have a minute to chat ?"
"I think I can pull myself away from the division account books." His tone was wry. "What's up with you ?" he asked. "Let me take a wild guess: you're working ?"
She paused, making a concerted effort not to tense up. "Just going over the new sales reports."
"It's like I'm psychic."
"Either that or I'm incredibly boring and predictable." She summoned all her nerve, and forged ahead. "But listen, I have an idea. Do you want me to fly out there ?"
"Where, New York ?"
"Well, yeah." She laughed, suddenly girlish and flustered. "I could go on-line right now and book a flight. Be there by midnight."
"Tonight ? Really ?"
He didn't have to sound so startled. "Why not ? Surely they don't expect you to work all weekend ?"
"Well, no, but I figured since it's such a long flight back and I have so much left to do out here, I'd just stay at the hotel until-"
"Perfect timing then," she said. "We're always saying we should go somewhere together, take a real vacation."
Eric cleared his throat.
"Oh, forget it," she said. "That's stupid, right ? I know. You're reading reports and overseeing things and, uh .. auditing. You don't have time for-"
"No, no," he stammered. "Come on out. It'll be great. We'll go see a show or something. Be total tourists. Take a carriage ride in Central Park."
"Never mind. I don't know what got into me." Jen gnawed the inside of her cheek. "I have a lot going on out here. And besides, someone has to feed the cat."
"Right, the cat." Another long pause. "Well, I know you're working."
"I am, indeed," she said brightly. "And so are you. We'll do it some other time. Plan something really special."
"Absolutely. Go someplace exotic."
"Tahiti, maybe. Or the Canary Islands."
"Whatever you want." His voice was flat.
"I'll look up resorts on-line," she promised, but she knew - and so did Eric - that this mythical vacation was never going to materialize.
Another agonizing silence ensued. Jen squirmed in her cushy leather desk chair.
"Okay. Well, you're busy," he said. "I'll let you go."
"Stay warm !" She flinched at her own forced joviality. "Have a fresh bagel with lox for me."
"Will do. Love you."
"Love you, too."
And that, she told herself sternly as she hung up the phone, would have to be enough. Eric was a good husband, and Jen tried hard to be a good wife, but the truth loomed between them, unspoken but undeniable. They loved each other, but they weren't in love.
She clicked back to her data files, but couldn't process the information splashed across the computer screen. The burn of shame and failure spread through her body. No way could she sit still."
In my last (public) entry dated 30 Sept, I got this annoymous comment:
It's screened as with all anonymous comments on my blog because I moderate them but anyway, to Anonymous: Give me a name - your name, elaborate on your accusations (subjective, of course), and I promise to rebut every.single.point. I'd love to have someone leave me speechless, feeling all fuck-shit-I'm-gonna-get-karma. So honestly, go on.
I don't have to justify my relationship(s) to anyone but y'know, it'd be nice to hear what the grapevine's on about.