Chapter 3
Three
Angela leaned against the counter, chopping red pepper for her shrimp stir-fry. Robert was on a health kick lately, working out and eating healthy. She figured she’d do her best to help out.
“I’ve got the green peppers, the red pepper, the celery ...
oh darn, the onions.” She wished she had that dicer/chopper contraption she saw on the shopping network.
At the time, she thought it was a waste of money and now she sure wished she had it.
She had every other gadget you could think of in her state of the art kitchen.
Oddly enough, neither her nor Robert cooked all that much.
“Everything’s going right on schedule. Robert should be here any minute now.” She was proud of herself and excited. They so rarely ate together; he had been working late a lot. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her day and the progress she had made on the wedding plans, the hall she had booked.
Ten minutes later, she sat at the table with a glass of red wine, waiting.
“The vegetables are getting cold and soggy. Just great…” Thirty minutes later, she was on her second glass of wine. “Great, now dinner’s ruined and I’m getting drunk.” An hour later, she was fuming, eating soggy shrimp stir-fry, on her third glass of wine.
“That jerk better have a good excuse.” Thankfully, the wine had a somewhat calming effect on her.
She was annoyed at Robert’s lack of respect for the tradition of the family dinner; enjoying food and conversation.
She had grown up in what one could call a traditional family.
Her mom would always have dinner on the table and her dad would come home from work and join them at the kitchen table.
Her older sister sat beside her mother, her younger brother sat beside her father and Angela was at the head of the table.
The other side of the table was pressed against the wall; the window looking onto the backyard.
They usually ate spaghetti, meatloaf, steak and potatoes served with rice and buns.
In the summer, they’d have veggies and fruit from the garden.
She had grown up with those family values and she dearly missed them.
She missed her family who were all still out West.
Robert had gone many times on business, but lately, it was much more often than usual. She was looking forward to spending time with him this weekend.
She picked up the phone to call Krysta. She let the phone ring five times and the answering service picked up.
She hung up without bothering to leave a message.
Krysta never returned her calls. Angela understood she was very busy with her daughter, and was juggling work, a kid, and a home as a single mom.
She guessed ‘best friend’ was last on that list. Angela wished she had more friends.
A few hours later, she heard the door open. Robert always made such a raucous when he got home.
“Hi, dear, what are you doing?” he asked, setting his briefcase on the counter. Angela was sitting on the sofa, absently watching a made for TV movie. She looked at the clock; a little research for her impending nagging session.
“You’re three hours late.”
“What are you talking about?” Robert had no clue. He helped himself to some wine, noticing that the remaining wine filled only the bottom of the bottle.
“Did you drink this bottle all by yourself?” he asked with a look of concern.
“Well... I was waiting for you. Remember, I told you I’d cook a special dinner for you tonight. You said you’d be here by six.”
“I’m sorry babe. I forgot,” he said, running his hands through his thin receiving hair; he looked tired and irritable.
He took a spoonful of stir-fry sitting on the oven.
“Yuck...this is tasteless and cold.” He was about thirty pounds overweight and had decided to lose those extra pounds, and this is precisely why Angela had cooked him a healthy dinner.
He loved food; a little too much. He walked straight to his office without saying another word.
“That’s it. That’s all you’re going to say?
” she screamed, standing by the stairs, looking up.
His office was on the second floor. It was a nice office with a contemporary teak desk and black leather chair, a large window looking onto the street.
Robert didn’t care about the rest of the house, but his office was another matter.
It was nine o’clock and this was becoming a daily routine; him coming home late and heading straight to his office.
The office was off-limits to her. This was not said outright but was understood.
She had never invaded his privacy before but now, she thought she should, as soon as she could.
It turned out to be another annoying Monday. Angela left Dot’s study, livid, talking to herself aloud as she tended to do when she was upset.
“Well, if she thinks I’m just going to drive here every week and waste my time...” she grumbled as she made her way to the coat room. “She’s got another thing coming.” She looked for her jacket. She wasn’t sure where Ellie had put it.
“There are some people out there who need me a lot more than she does. What a
selfish--”
“So, you’re one of those.”
She hadn’t heard the footsteps behind her. He was standing by the doorway, a big, wide grin on his face.
“Oh I didn’t know anyone was here...” she said, her cheeks blushing. “What do you mean? One of those...”
“...one of those people who talk to themselves. You know… crazy people.”
She laughed. He, like many others, had been witness to her internal thoughts. She told herself she really had to stop this habit of talking to herself.
“I know, my mother can be hard to-”
“She’s fine. I can handle her,” she told him firmly.
He smiled. He seemed to love smiling at her expense. “Are you sure? Because you don’t seem too happy...”
“Well, I came all the way out here and she just informed me that she wasn’t in the mood today to read. Can you believe that?!”
He laughed.
“What is so funny?”
“You.”
“Well, contrary to popular belief, I do have better things to do with my time,” she told him, making sure he knew she had a life.
“Actually, I’m glad I saw you because I wanted to tell you something.” He walked close to her, making her uneasy. What did he want to tell her?
“It’s my mother’s birthday soon,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Really. How old?”
“Oh, I could tell you but then she’d make me kill you,” he joked. “Let’s just say it’s a special one.”
“Anyway...” he went on. “I’d like to invite you to the party. I could mail you the invitation but since I don’t know your address and you’re right here...”
“Sure, I’d love to go. Even if she did just annoy me to hell.” She was quite enthusiastic - any excuse for a party.
“Great.” His eyes lit up. “Come, follow me. I’ve got the invitations in my office. I’d love your opinion.”
She followed him eagerly.
From the tall bare windows of his den, she could see the beautiful garden. Bookcases lined the wall behind his desk; holding a myriad of books, pictures and various possessions including old wooden intricate antique boxes. Two specific pictures caught her attention.
“Who are those cute kids?” she asked.
“That’s Michelle and Eric,” he said proudly, “...my kids.”
For some reason, Angela was surprised. She had wondered if he had a girlfriend but had assumed he wasn’t married and had no kids. She suddenly wondered where his wife and kids were.
“They’ll be here Saturday,” he said, beaming. She walked over to take a closer look and squeezed herself behind his desk where he joined her.
“These pictures are a little outdated.” They were standing in the confined space between the bookcase and his chair, so close to each other, she could smell his aftershave. She swore to herself, she had not purposely put herself in this position.
“Michelle was eight in this picture, and Eric was six.”
“They’re cute, dark complexion.”
“Yep, they look like their mom, thankfully.”
“Oh, they’ve got a lot of you too,” she said, looking at him. “Look at the dimples,” she teased.
He smiled and they made their appearance.
“See, there they are!” she teased again.
He couldn’t keep from smiling. “Michelle is ten now and Eric is eight. They live with their mother, north of Montréal.”
“Do you see them often? It’s weird… Dot never mentioned them.”
“Well, she’s not close to them. We don’t get to see them often.”
“That’s too bad,” she offered.
He sat on the edge of his desk. “Right now they’re in school and I can’t fly them over. My ex-wife doesn’t like them to miss too much school.”
“Do you go visit them often?”
“Well, not as much as I should,” he hesitated. “To be honest, I don’t know what to say... we have communication issues.” He looked away.
“They moved to Québec when Michelle was four and Eric was two. They don’t speak much English.”
“How does that happen? Doesn’t your ex-wife speak English?”
“Yes. But she’s French and I guess she’s never made an effort,” he told her. “I’d like to speak more French but it’s so hard.”
“You should. I think it would be worth the effort. I speak a little.”
“Really? How’d you learn?”
“I did a few years in French immersion.”
“Good for you,” he said, envious. “Actually, they’re coming in for Dot’s birthday.”
“So I’ll get to meet them. That’s great.”
“And of course...you can bring a guest,” he offered and looked at her for a second or two. “You’re engaged right?”
He had noticed.
“Um... yes. Yes, I’ll talk to Robert. I’m sure he’d love to come.”
“It will be around four o’clock. It’s a surprise party so don’t mention it. She’ll get there around four-thirty or five. I have it all worked out with her new guy,” he explained.
“Take a seat,” he motioned her to the dark brown studded leather loveseat.
He shuffled through some stuff in his cabinet and pulled out a box.
“Take a look,” he urged as he walked over to the bar in his office and poured himself a scotch. For some reason, she made him a bit uneasy, and a drink was in order to ease his nerves.