(Continued from last issue)
David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.
JULIE
“Can I go visit mum today?” Sandra asked the next morning.
“Today? But you’re soon going back for school anyway; so, why not wait and go at once?”
“It’s been a while; I just want to spend the day with her, I’ll be back this evening,” she promised pleadingly.
“Sandra, I really don’t see why the urgency to go today. You know that you going means; I have to do shopping for her and send her money, not to mention your transport and all, and I really don’t have money for that now. David will be giving me money for you and your brother’s fees and school shopping next week, and when he does that, there will be some money for mum too; so, why not wait till then?”
I tried to reason with her.
“This is why I was telling you that you should start working again; at least then you wouldn’t have to wait on David for everything,” she answered sulkily.
After the issues she and I had just overcome, I was not prepared to engage with her on this line of discussion; so, I stayed silent, and noting my response – or lack of it – she took the hint and did not pursue it. Instead she returned to her initial appeal to go visit our mother.
“You don’t need to send her money or shopping today; I’ll just say I had the day off and came to spend the day with her, and you can send her the shopping and money when I go back for school.”
I still was not convinced; there was simply no way Sandra could go see our mother empty-handed, which meant I would have to use household money on her, and remain broke until David next gave me money.
It was a scary thought, but short of stopping Sandra from going thereby risking reigniting our problems, I really did not have a choice.
“Fine, you can go,” I acquiesced in defeat.
DAVID
I arrived at the apartment just before six that evening, and immediately noticed that there was no sign of Sandra, as Julie was balancing Junior in one arm, while stirring something in a pot on the stove with the other.
“Mmmm, that smells good,” I remarked as I pecked her ‘hello’ on the cheek, while simultaneously relieving her of Junior.
“Thanks, it’ll be ready soon. Would you like some coffee or juice first?”
“A glass of juice sounds good for now, but it’s okay, I’ll get it myself. Looks like you have your hands full; where’s Sandra?” I asked casually, while picking a glass out of an overhead cabinet.
“She went to visit our mum; she should be back later this evening.”
“Any particular reason she went? I mean, I hope everything’s alright with your mum,” I asked kindly, opening the door for her to tell me about the problems her mother was having, that Sandra had mentioned in her text.
Of course I was not in the least bit surprised that Sandra had gone to see their mother, as the money I had sent her was primarily to solve her problems, but I wanted Julie to tell me about them on her own, so my question was simply an opportunity for her to open up to me.
It was an opportunity she did not take.
“Yeah, everything is fine with mum; I think Sandra just wanted a day off babysitting Junior,” she smiled back.
I did not understand why she was lying to me, but more disturbing than that was the ease with which she was doing so. I had always viewed her as honest and as transparent as an open book; so, the realization that she could look me in the eye and lie to me with a straight face was scary.
DIANE
As had become his new norm, David returned home as it approached ten on this evening, even missing the children’s bedtime, but rather than sulk away in the bedroom like I normally did, I was waiting for him in the living room.
“I need to talk to you,” I announced coldly, as he headed for the stairs. He paused and sighed in a mixture of fatigue and irritation but, nonetheless, turned to face me: “What about?”
“I saw Tracy yesterday, and she wants me to return to the boutique.”
“So?”
“Well, I’m not going to walk there, and since I doubt you’re going to volunteer to drive me to and fro every day, I’m going to need a car.”
“How is that my problem? I’m not the one who wrecked your car!” he shrugged uninterestedly.
“I know, but I can’t move without one.”
“Again, that is not my problem. You wrecked your car; you fix it. Until then, use a cab,” he retorted icily.
“Even if I were to be able to have it fixed, I don’t see myself driving that car again. I need a new one.”
“And you expect me to buy it?”
“Well, you could at least contribute to one.”
“Why should I? It’s not like this home benefits from your work at the boutique; if you want to return to the boutique, let the boutique fund your means of getting there, not me!” he snapped, then turned and marched on up the stairs.
I was obviously infuriated by his reaction, but really had not expected anything else; so, I did not let it distract me. David might not know it yet, but he was going to pay for that car.
margaretwamanga@yahoo.com
Source: The Observer
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