Chapter 6 #2
The first thing I focused on was an Instant Pot.
A newer version and one that had a larger capacity than the pressure cooker I already had.
Considering my whole plan to fix my marriage revolved around an Instant Pot, I should have the best. I carried the box toward the checkout and started my stack.
Then there was a juicer. Did I already have one?
Yes. Was it this nice? No. Did it join my stack?
Yes, indeed. I added two new spatulas, an adorable pair of reindeer oven mitts, and a set of Christmas bistro towels.
As the pile by the register grew, so did my heart, and all my troubles dissolved, at least for a brief moment.
I bought such a large load that Alicia helped me out to my car after checking out.
By the time I returned home, I felt only a smidge better. I swear, a visit to Williams-Sonoma could have fixed all my woes a couple of months ago. Now it was only a part of the remedy. What next? Fortunately, I never ran out of ideas, but I needed to clean the house first.
After washing, setting up, and playing with all my new toys—and disposing of the bags, packaging, and receipts—I began cleaning the house.
I slipped a few pressure releases into the cleaning downstairs.
I stuck a giant ball of hair and dust into the top drawer of the Dream Killer’s desk.
I rearranged a few of the books, which originally had been lined up alphabetically on the shelf.
Little things to make me happy. Totally harmless!
Accomplishing as much as I could in one day, I finished with the bathrooms. With Philippe following behind, I hiked the stairs wearing yellow rubber gloves.
I polished the clawfoot tub and the sinks.
As I knelt to clean the toilet, the final urge to satisfy my current depression hit me like a witch swinging her broom across my head.
I’d thought about this one before but had never acted upon the idea.
I slowly twisted my head toward Rory’s sink and saw his blue toothbrush.
A smile rushed over me. Thank God no one was filming me, because I must have looked like the most conniving and deranged wife on earth.
I removed his toothbrush from the holder and returned to the toilet.
Was I really going to do this?
Apparently.
I lifted the lid and sprayed an organic solution around the rim.
I raised my arm, looked at his clean toothbrush one more time, and reached into the bowl.
Guilt took a few swipes at me. I stopped with the bristles an inch away from the porcelain.
It wasn’t the dirtiest toilet bowl in the world, but it needed cleaning.
Using his toothbrush would cross a line.
Was that what saving this marriage would take?
No. I couldn’t do it. I shook my head, repulsed that I’d even considered the notion.
I stood to return the brush to its holder.
At the last second though, I changed my mind yet again.
Yes, saving this marriage would require sacrifice.
He’d gotten the wife of a lifetime, and the only thing he had to do was brush his teeth with a dirty toothbrush!
I returned to the toilet, and without another thought—at least, without another doubt—began scrubbing. Nothing could have wiped the grin off my face. By the time I was done with that toilet, you could have had Christmas Eve dinner on it.
Rory’s toothbrush, on the other hand. Repulsive.
As I finished, I fell onto my butt, cackling. Deranged Margot strikes again. Rory probably thought he had complete control over me. Little did he know this entire year had been my game. My game. My plan.
To be fair, I did run his toothbrush under hot water for a minute after I finished. I’m not a complete witch. Well, honestly, it wasn’t a whole minute. I ran the brush under lukewarm water for few seconds though. Such a witch!
Was I losing my mind or what?
Say what you will, but I felt better. So much better, as if my chest were finally opening up and my brow unfurrowing. So great, in fact, that I wanted to cook, so I went downstairs and flipped through cookbooks, which is my favorite thing to do on earth.
As I reached to pick up a second book, Rory called. “I’m so sorry about earlier. You were so sweet to bring me tacos. I can’t wait to eat them for breakfast.”
“Seriously, darling, it hasn’t crossed my mind since. No big deal.” I didn’t care anymore, though saying it hadn’t crossed my mind was a stretch. I added, “I was just trying to brighten your day.”
“You did that,” he said. “And it’s great for everyone in City Hall to see how much you care.”
I bit my tongue. Couldn’t he leave politics out of it for once? Was our entire life about public image?
He trucked on. “Still, I want you to know how much I appreciate you. Why don’t we do something special tonight?
We could go out. Or I could bring home a great bottle of wine, and we could listen to music.
Jasper is gone, so we could have a romantic evening—just the two of us.
If you feel like cooking, I’m all in. Or I could bring something home.
We can do delivery. I don’t mean to ask you on a date and then beg you to cook. ”
“I don’t mind cooking.” Under duress, I might admit a big bright smile lifted my face. He had not asked me on such a date in eons. I said, “I’d love to cook. Is there anything you’re dying for?”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.” After a pause, he said, “Italian? Your Bolognese?”
My mouth watered. “You’re on. I think I have everything. You want homemade pasta?”
“Only if you feel like it.”
“Anything for you,” I whispered with a twinge of sexuality layered in.
“I can hardly wait. I’ll leave as soon as possible.”
Oh, my gosh, the day shimmered with love and possibility.
I ran around the kitchen pulling out ingredients.
If he wanted a date, I would give him a date he’d never forget.
As I told you, dear doubter of me, I wasn’t far from waking him up from his dream.
Sometimes unorthodox solutions are the best kind.
When you’ve been cooking as long as I have, you know that timing is everything.
So before I did anything else, I raised my sauce to a simmer on the stove.
Then I flew up the stairs and picked through my underwear drawer.
Only the finest and sexiest for the mayor of Burlington tonight.
Yes, I thought, if he wanted a date, I’d be ready to give him one he’d never forget.
Thankfully, I remembered to replace his tainted toothbrush with a new one from under the sink before I returned to the kitchen.
I anticipated a kiss tonight. And more.