“Is this a mid-life crisis?” She wondered to the blank wall behind the T.V. – the one that she left blank intentionally, not even a nail hole to hang a picture because even so much as a nail would be a commitment, a commitment to a life she was no longer certain she wanted.
Fifteen years with the same man. Eating the same food. Sleeping in the same bed. Having the same sex. Many years, many towns, and many houses had passed through their lives as a couple. Was she really ready for yet another one?
Sure she still loved her husband. But it’s the kind of love familiarity brings. The passion and lust of the honeymoon are gone. They worked past the growing pains of underwear on the floor in front of the hamper and the toothpaste tube being squished in the middle instead of squeezed from the end. They had been friends at first, then lovers, and then friends again, but most of Emma’s childhood friends were gone. Now Jack was her life.
But now…she wondered…….
Almost without thinking, she rubbed the soft microsuede fabric they had picked for the couch. She liked the couch. She remembered that Jack thought the store was asking too much for the it. $2000 was too much for them to pay. Emma had insisted it would last a lifetime if they took care of it properly. It’d be an investment, she insisted. Like their marriage, the sofa had been through many incarnations, but it had withstood the test of time. She smoothed the afghan draped over the cushion with the back of her hand as she stood to go do the dishes. She could stay for the couch.
The wide plank floor was smooth under her bare feet. She had always wanted a floor like this. Big, wide, slats of wood aged and weathered over time, looking like her daddy’s old barn. She fell in love with it the first time she saw it. She couldn’t leave this floor.
Entering the kitchen through the arched doorway, she was nearly blinded by the sunlight flooding the room. Of course, that had been planned too. She had always loved the idea of working in the kitchens in the morning, bathed in sunlight, getting the family’s meals ready for the day. There wasn’t anything about this kitchen she didn’t love, from the hanging pendant lights above the bar down to the terra cotta tile floors, warmed from underneath so she could go barefooted comfortably all year long.
They had worked so hard on this house. Getting it to just the place they wanted it. Really…how could she leave now? This house was the house of her dreams! Could she really stay for the house????