Chapter 4 Cordelia - Doubt
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark
Hamlet, William Shakespeare
I was feeling in a basil mood, so pesto pasta was on the menu tonight. Harrison was fussy about ingredients in processed foods, so I was so busy reading the details on the jar that I missed the woman coming up beside me.
“Cordelia? So lovely to see you.” It was Maria Howard, Harrison’s boss’s wife. She was a kind woman and was heavily involved in community organizations.
“Maria, how are you? Is Sarah loving college?” Maria smiled proudly She and Brian were so proud of their daughter, who was studying to become a pharmacists, just like her father.
“She is, but she said it’s such a big jump from high school. She’s coming home this weekend, no doubt for me to do her laundry, but I’ll take any excuse to see her.”
The Howards were a beautiful family. Sarah and her little brother Brendan were good people and hard workers.
They had spent many of their childhood hours packing boxes and doing busy work in the pharmacy.
Harrison admired their work ethic and was fascinated by Sarah.
He was interested in anyone who expressed an interest in his profession, and I think the idea of an admiring teen was highly appealing to his ego.
“Harrison is doing well.” Was she asking me or telling me? I stared at her to try to discern her tone. “Um, thank you.” I chose to identify her tone as a “telling” tone rather than an “asking” tone, though there was no upward inflection at the end.
“Yes, well, I just hope you’re both so happy together.” What was this woman trying to tell me? Was Harrison fucking up at work?
“Is everything okay, Maria?” I asked. I was a polite person, but I also didn’t beat around the bush.
“I’m sure it is. Harrison has just been a little distracted lately, that’s all.” If things were uncomfortable before, they were downright tense now.
“With what?” I asked.
“Oh, I have to go. I’ve got a church meeting in 10 minutes.
Maybe just ask him if training our new staff member is causing him stress.
He’s a bit preoccupied.” She dashed off, denying me the opportunity to prompt her further.
Was this a workplace bullying situation?
Harrison was a passive person, but he wasn’t a doormat.
Grabbing a different pesto, without reading the label, I wandered over to the checkout area. I’d have to talk to him tonight.
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“I don’t know what she’s on about. You know Maria. Always reading into things, hovering around the pharmacy like she works there.” Harrison’s response was dismissive.
“So no one is giving you trouble? I don’t have to send Miranda in?” Miranda could be brutal when someone hurt one of her loved ones. I often wished she was as protective of herself as she was with others.
“What? No. I don’t need your little sister fighting my battles. And nothing is wrong. We’ve got a few new assistants and I’m juggling trying to train them while also manning the counter now that Sally is on vacation leave.”
“Okay, as long as you’re sure.” I cleared the table while Harrison stacked the dishwasher.
Living together was great, but it hadn’t brought us closer together.
I never thought we were distant, but we seemed to just always be alone, even when we were together.
He watched something while I scrolled my phone, or he read a book while I did small renovation jobs.
I always asked for his help, but he said he wasn’t a “handy” guy and didn’t want to interfere with my vision for the house.
The only time we truly connected lately was in the bedroom.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on at work.
Brian was a conservative man, who was quite firm, but that was pretty much Harrison’s personality too.
He’d always admired Brian and frequently told me of his plans to emulate Brian’s career: work for someone else for a while, join the Pharmacists Guild, and eventually open his own pharmacy.
Harrison could be fussy and anally retentive, but they were appropriate qualities in his profession.
There’s no way Brian could fault Harrison’s punctuality and commitment to sterility and hygiene.
I let it go. If something was wrong, Harrison would eventually tell me.
He had a great deal of pride and was reluctant to admit weakness or defeat.
If he felt he needed to deal with this on his own, I’d step aside and let him.
We made love that night, but it seemed mechanical, and Harrison didn’t seem to give a shit if I reached my happy ending or not. He wasn’t the world’s most generous lover, but he usually cared enough to make sure that I was satisfied. He was definitely preoccupied by something.
The next morning, while I battled to find space in the bathroom alongside Harrison, I nearly choked on a cloud of cologne. Waving my hand in front of my face, I made an “ew” face.
“Fucking hell. You trying to asphyxiate the staff Harrison? Don’t you have old people with respiratory issues coming in to collect their medication? Geez, bring it down a notch.”
“I just sprayed it. It’s not that strong.” His answer was absent-minded. He was focused on the huge pimple beside his nose. He was wearing disposable gloves and had sterile gauze laid out on top of a wrapper.
“Holy shit! You’re squeezing a pimple,” I gasped. “What about scars?”
“This one is huge. I’m not having another Mt Vesuvius incident,” he remarked, smiling as he patted the gauze on his cheek.
“Yeah, well, if you’re going to use my make-up, make sure you use a cotton tip.” Checking my hair, I slipped out and grabbed my purse.
“I’ll be home late tonight. We’re going out for Joanne’s birthday,” I called into the bathroom.
“No worries. I’ll just grab some takeout.”
I sighed. Would it kill that man to cook once in a while?
Every time I couldn’t cook for whatever reason, he ordered delivery or grabbed takeaway.
For a man so obsessed with cleanliness, he didn’t seem to worry about what he put into his body, except for rogue ingredients in packaged goods of course.
I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed to my car. I had a lot of driving to do today. Time for a happy playlist.