3. Clara
CLARA
He was in his den again, watching TV like he did every day.
My youngish, vibrant husband was turning into a couch potato, all because he was depressed.
I’d tried to get him to move past what had happened, but nothing worked.
His kids were taking over, and in his absence, making all the decisions for the ranch. Soon, he would be left out in the cold.
Meanwhile, I was still working day in and day out to keep this house running. Laundry still piled up, the kids still came home for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—never with any warning.
And I was expected to hold it all together.
Fresh bread, a hearty meal, beer always in the fridge.
Well, I was tired of it. I wasn’t even sixty, but the way my back ached, I felt like I was approaching my seventies. Life wasn’t supposed to be this hard all the time. After the kids moved out, I was supposed to live in my golden years. Whatever happened to retirement?
I’d had enough, and there were going to be more than a few changes around here. Barging into the den, I marched over to the chair, dug the remote out of the seat cushion, and turned it off.
“Ben.”
When he didn’t hear me, I gave him a harsh slap across the face, then stood back, staring at him in concern as he jolted, looking around for the threat.
“Are you okay?” I asked, worrying my bottom lip.
“What just happened?”
“I don’t know. It looked like you were having a nightmare. Is everything okay?”
Scrubbing a hand down his unshaven face, he sat up. “Yeah, it’s all good. Did you need something?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I beamed. “Since your days have gotten a lot easier, I think it’s time we tackle a few projects around the house I’ve been meaning to get to.”
He scowled at my choice of words. “Things aren’t easier.”
I made a point of looking around the room, and particularly, where he was sitting. “Well, you never used to have time for a mid-afternoon nap. Or one in the morning either.”
“I just fell asleep,” he grumbled.
“Yes, and you’ve been sleeping every day. I’m surprised you even have the energy to sleep at night. Now, follow me. We have a lot to cover before you go into town and get started,” I called over my shoulder as I marched out of the room.
As I headed upstairs, I started making a list of everything that needed to be done.
“These stairs need to be replaced. They creak worse than my knees!”
“But I built these stairs with my father!” he bellowed, rushing after me.
I stopped on one particular stair and put all my weight on it. The stair groaned loudly, then again as I took my foot off. “Did you hear that? You wake me up every night when you creep downstairs for a midnight snack.”
He had the audacity to look affronted. “I do not.”
“Oh please. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that half a cake is missing? Or that the cookie box wasn’t sealed properly?”
My dear husband ran a hand along the back of his neck, the surly attitude of his only growing with every flaw I pointed out. And the thing was, I really didn’t care that he had midnight cravings. I was just tired of the lies.
“I can stop.”
“I don’t care if you stop. What I do care about is that the stairs need to be fixed.” I spun on my heel, nearly plowing him over as I headed back downstairs. “Now, on to the living room.”
As I hopped down the last step, he rushed after me. “What about the living room?”
“We’re going to give it a fresh coat of paint. Maybe even take down a wall.”
“A wall? Woman, what in the hell are you talking about?”
I spun around the room, looking at the space, trying to decide what I wanted to do. “This wall,” I said, walking over to the one that broke up the space between the living room and the kitchen.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, grinding his teeth in that way he always did when he was exasperated with me. “Woman, that’s a load-bearing wall. You can’t just rip it out.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” I smiled sweetly.
“But— There are things on the other side of that wall. The refrigerator is over there! Where the hell are you gonna put it? Just have it float around in the middle of the room?”
“Well, that brings me to point number two. I’ve been thinking about the arrangement of the kitchen, and for years, I really haven’t liked it.”
His eyes grew wide as I smiled at him. Slowly, he started shaking his head. “You can’t be serious. You want to redo the whole fucking kitchen?”
I shot him my best innocent-looking frown. “Is it too difficult for you? Should I hire a contractor?”
His eyes narrowed to slits as he glowered at me. “It’s not too difficult.”
“Because if it is, I’m sure someone in town would be better suited to handle the project. Doesn’t Randy work as a contractor on the side?”
“Randy? He’s still a kid!”
“He’s the same age as Liam and Bailey,” I pointed out. “Surely, his skills are up to par. I think he even went to school and got a degree and everything.”
Tearing his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, he shook his head in frustration.
I tried not to smile. Really, I did, but this was just too much fun.
For years, I’d been the good wife, always doing what was asked of me.
Well, that time was over. Now, he was going to feel every ounce of my resentment that had built up over the years.
“Now, listen here, woman. I am more than capable of redoing this house. I don’t need some kid to come in here with his fancy degree and charge us an arm and a leg to do a few repairs!”
I cocked my head at him. “Then why are you complaining?”
“Because the whole fucking thing is ridiculous! You want to take a perfectly good house and change it! I built this house with my father—”
“And it has always been your house,” I interrupted. “We’ve done everything the way you wanted.”
He stomped over to the drapes hanging over the window. “Oh yeah? Do you really think I chose these?”
“They’re your mother’s.”
“Seriously?” he frowned.
“Do I look like the type of woman who would choose something like that?”
Then he pointed to the ugly chair in the corner. “Okay, but that—”
“Was also your mother’s. Technically, she bought it and then gave it to us because she decided she didn’t like it. And if I recall correctly, which you know I do, you said we had to keep it because your mother would be insulted.”
“The—”
“The pictures are also hers.”
“You went shopping with her,” he grumbled.
“Yes, and you know your mother. She didn’t let me pick out a single thing.”
His brows pulled down in a frown. “Wait, so you’re telling me we’ve been living this whole time with my mother’s decorations?”
“Did you really think I wanted a mustard yellow chair or a shag rug?”
The sad part was that he flushed red in embarrassment. He really thought this was my style, that I had wanted all of this crap all along.
“You could have changed it at any time.”
I quirked a brow at him. “Like when I tried to get rid of the old hutch?”
“It was a family heirloom!”
“And it’s hideous!”
“Mom would have been angry if we’d gotten rid of it.”
“Well, your mother doesn’t live here anymore, and I’m tired of hating every aspect of my house. We’re going to redo it, and we’re going to do it the way we want it.”
His eyes lit with excitement. “I could move my deer heads in here.”
Smiling, I strode up to him and patted his cheek. “Honey, when I said the way we wanted, I really meant the way I wanted. There’s no way I’m sitting in the living room with beady eyes staring at me.”
“But—”
“Come along,” I called out, marching out the front door. “There’s more to add to the list!”
As Ben grumbled to his sons about the new projects around the house, I went to the den and started clearing away all the crap he’d left lying around over the past few days.
Empty bags of chips, beer bottles, and wrappers from candy were scattered everywhere.
It was like walking into a teenager’s room, and I had already been through that stage of my life. I was done with it.
Once everything was clean, I walked over to the window, pulling the shade to bring some light into the room. The window was absolutely huge, and with a view of the mountains filling the space, it was hard to believe that he kept it so dark in here.
Staring out at the wondrous landscape, I remembered how I saw this view when we were first dating, and how I thought that maybe one day, I’d like to paint those mountains.
Of course, that was just a pipe dream. I got pregnant almost immediately after we got married, and by then, any hopes of living out my own dreams were squashed.
But my kids were out of the house now, and I finally had the chance to do something for me.
Spinning around, I took in the large space, imagining where I could put an easel. Of course, the room would need some brightening up. These brown walls would have to go right away. No one could possibly be inspired in a room like this.
And those heads…
I grimaced at the deer watching my every move. Those would definitely have to go. What I needed was someone to help me redecorate this place. And I had two daughters and two daughters-in-law to help me make a change.
Sending them texts, I only heard back from Krista and Bailey, which wasn’t a surprise since Lizzy was most likely sleeping in and Blake was probably already working her next case.
Meet me at the house in half an hour. We’re going shopping!
I quickly showered, tossing my hair up into a bun, then dressed in something comfortable.
As I slipped into my orthopedic shoes, I briefly considered telling Ben what my plans were, but he would only try to talk me out of it.
After all, the den had been his space for years.
Well, that was changing. Now, I was going to have something for myself, and if he didn’t like it, he could lump it.
By the time I got downstairs, the girls were already waiting. “Ready to go shopping?”
Neither of them looked very thrilled. “What are we shopping for?” Bailey asked.
“We’re going to redo the den!” I beamed.
Both of them perked up at that. “When you say redo…” Krista hedged.