Chapter Six #2
He had not fished in ages. Michael used to fish off the dock with his brothers, releasing all the fish back.
He had always sailed. He wondered when he would be allowed to sail again.
He switched through the channels until he returned to the cooking show.
They were taking the potatoes out of the water.
Michael got up to go rescue his potatoes.
He didn’t have one of those fancy scoops like they used, all mesh but there was a scoop with some holes in it.
He pulled the two potatoes out of the water and put them on his plate.
The steak was steaming. The sauce was smoking black, the tomato black and red, seared onto the bottom of the pan.
The onion and carrot stood pathetically surrounded by black.
Michael grabbed the pan and put it in the sink, running water over it.
Steam flew up and the smoke alarm trilled.
Ears aching, he grabbed a chair, popped off the cover for the smoke alarm and pulled the battery.
The deafening trill abruptly stopped. He got off the chair and grabbed the beer, having a drink.
Well, okay, no sauce. It was not a big deal.
They were plating the steak and oohing over the plate on television.
It looked good. Michael looked at his own steak.
It didn’t look quite right. Maybe it would taste better than it looked.
Shrugging, he slid it out of the pan and onto the plate beside the two potatoes.
Michael made sure the stove was off and shut off the gush of water in the sink now that the burned food had cooled.
Grabbing a new beer and his plate he headed for the couch to taste his feast.
He cut into the steak and examined it. It looked burned on the bottom and the top was nearly raw.
Was he supposed to have flipped it? They had not said anything on television about doing that.
He had not seen them do it but then again, he had not watched the whole time since he had been trying to find ingredients.
Michael took a tentative bite then spit it back out on the plate.
He took a swig of beer to get rid of the taste.
There was no describing the mess of spices and improperly cooked meat.
Taking a deep breath, Michael took a fork to a potato.
It was rock hard. The fork was stuck in it.
Michael stared at the television where the host was taking a bite and proclaiming the meal superb. They were frauds. He got up and put his plate in the sink, the potatoes rolling into the water. The kitchen was a disaster.
Disappointed, he made himself a sandwich.
∞
Ann met Geanie at their usual bar. She was surprised that Elle was not there yet. After Ann had suggested the excursion, it had taken some convincing from Michael that she should even go but she missed hanging out with the girls and surely Michael would be fine for one evening without her.
“You should think about mingling more. There are some good singles mixers coming up,” Geanie took a drink from her beer. “You won’t find anyone if you don’t go looking.”
“I don’t have time,” Ann stirred her daiquiri. “I almost didn’t come tonight.”
“There is a fundraising golf event on Friday,” Geanie persisted as she crunched on a complimentary pretzel.
“I heard a lot of singles are going to be there. Trenton Bailey, the mayor’s son.
Earle Milton, he has oil money but isn’t great to look at.
Oh, I know. George Stapleton. He owns a string of dental offices.
You know how to play golf and I have got an extra ticket since my dear Mr. Duvell broke his ankle.
Turns out you cannot golf in an air cast.”
“I can’t,” Ann shook her head. “I have to take Michael to the dentist. He has his annual checkup.”
Geanie looked at her with pity. “You are doing it all again.”
“What do you mean?” Ann asked, sipping her daiquiri through the straw.
“You are his caretaker. You are taking care of his appointments, his wants, his needs. You are putting him first and fretting over him,” Geanie asked the all-important question. “Who is fretting over you, honey?”
“Someone needs to look after him,” Ann said defensively.
“He has two brothers,” Geanie sighed. “Look, you quite being his secretary so that you could follow your dream to have a family. Now you have just replaced the title of secretary to nursemaid. You are doing the exact same thing you were before and are no closer to being a wife and having children. If he hasn’t figured out that you love him by now and acted on it, he isn’t in love with you.
He is just in love with the comfort of having you around to do everything for him.
Have some pride and stop being his personal maid. ”
“I am not his nursemaid,” Ann said without much conviction.
“Sure honey,” Geanie reflected on it. “No, I think it is worse. I think you are like his favorite blanket that he keeps taking around for comfort but nothing else. Or maybe you are just his mom.”
“His mom?” an incredulous Ann said.
“You do everything a mom does. You have been momming him for years,” Geanie sipped her drink. “I know because I got to watch the whole show.”
Ann put down her drink feeling hollow inside.
Geanie was right. She had made the same horrible mistake.
She was still tied to Michael, unable to take any steps to her future because of her dedication to him.
She could not believe she had not seen it.
She had not wanted to see it, she reflected ruefully.
She loved taking care of Michael. But Geanie was right.
Michael was not taking care of her in return.
“Look, there is Elle finally,” Geanie waved to Elle.
Elle slipped into the booth. “Evan was being difficult. Sorry I am so late.”
“No worries,” Geanie said.
Elle looked at Ann in concern. “Is everything alright, Ann?”
“I have done it again,” Ann whispered. “I have let Michael become my focus and I have stopped focusing on myself.”
“Oh Ann,” Elle reached for her hand. “It is understandable, with the surgery and his recovery. We really appreciate the time that you have put in taking care of him.”
Ann swallowed thickly. “But it hasn’t done any good. He doesn’t love me. He just loves that I take care of everything then he doesn’t have to.”
Elle didn’t know what to say.
Geanie flagged down a waiter, ordering drinks for all of them.
Ann shook her head. “I am going to pass. I am going back to the house. I need to think.”
“Ann, do you want a ride?” offered Elle.
“No, I will call a cab.” She fished out some money for her daiquiri.
“Are you sure?” asked Elle with concern. “I don’t mind driving you.”
“No,” Ann drew in a shaky breath. She felt like Elle might talk her into something.
Like staying with Michael, which was what she really wanted to do.
Ann just wanted to stay under different circumstances.
How had she let her life become this? Dedicated to a man who only thought of her as convenient, a friend at best?
She blindly left the bar and fortunately there was a cab waiting right at the curb.
He took Mastercard so she got in. On the hour drive to the beach house, she tried to make sense of her obsession with Michael and struggled with the despair of knowing she had wasted twenty plus years of her life hoping for something which had never happened. Was never going to happen.
Ann let herself into the house. It smelled like something had been on fire.
She made her way to the kitchen and saw the dismantled smoke detector.
Worried, she began to search the house for Michael only to find him in the living room, asleep in the leather recliner.
He looked okay. She breathed a small prayer of thanksgiving then went to investigate the kitchen.
It looked like a bomb had gone off. There were spices scattered everywhere. Pans were in the sink, on the stove, on the counter. Something red had coagulated on the counter and floor. There was a fork in a raw potato. What had he done? FenLei was going to have a fit.
Ann just looked at the mess and shook her head.
This was what Geanie was talking about. Ann was a full-time caretaker.
She was his wife without any of the benefits of being a wife.
She had slipped back into her old role of putting Michael first and her wants and desires second.
She was forty years old. She wanted Michael as her husband and babies and this house.
Yet, he never made a move for her. He was contented letting her pick up after him, organize his life, make sure everything was good.
He was comfortable. He didn’t love her. He didn’t want to be her husband.
He didn’t want to be the father of her babies.
And so, if she wanted the happily ever after, she was going to have to get it elsewhere.
Ann went to the living room and sat on the coffee table, watching him sleep.
The ache gnawed at her. How was she ever going to get past him?
Geanie was right. She had to let him go.
She had to go cold turkey. Her heart rebelled at the thought, but she didn’t want to be eighty years old, full of regret, childless and trying to coax him to eat at the old age home.
That was where she was headed if things continued like they were.
It hurt. It hurt so badly to think about.
Ann wiped away tears as another sob came.
She just could not do this anymore no matter how much she loved him.
Loving him was not enough. He needed to love her in return and since he could not it was time to leave.
She fumbled in her bag, pulled out her cell phone and called for a cab.
It would be an expensive ride back to her apartment after the expensive ride here, but there was nothing she could do about that.