EVERYTHING FOR NOTHING
The scorching mid July sun beat down on
Cynthia Chalmers bent head and back. Beads of sweat rolled between her
shoulder blades and breasts. Her arms burned from the exertion of swinging the Weed
Eater back and forth through the long, thick grass. The sweet smell of the
fresh cut lawn wafted around
her, and dandelion fluff kicked up by the whirling string, tickled her nose.
Over the high pitched drone of her
machine, the roar of a revving engine caught her attention. She glanced up,
shielding her eyes against the glaring sun.
A burgundy Durango sped down her quiet
dead-end street, just outside the city limits of Vancouver. The deep thump of
bass from a rap song blasted through the ground, up her legs and throughout her body.
She leaned wearily against the handle of
the Weed Eater and eyed the Durango as it turned into the driveway of the
one-level house across from hers. Dust swirled from the tires, momentarily
blocking her view. Then the dust cleared.
Angus.
She stared as the driver's door opened and
he stepped out. Her heart slammed against her ribs and she
straightened.
Wow. He looked sexy today. But then again, when didn't
he?
He wasn’t overly tall, maybe five-foot
ten, with broad shoulders that tapered down to a perfect behind. Muscular
calves bulged below his knee-length tan shorts. The sun turned his dark brown
hair to a bright mahogany.
Angus turned, catching her staring. White
teeth flashed as he smiled. “Well, hello there.” He walked towards her, eying her up and down.
Heat suffused her face as his dark brown
eyes devoured her. Embarrassed to be caught gawking, she glanced down
at her stained gray sweat-pants tucked into green gumboots, and her worn-out
blue T-shirt.
Why does he have to talk to me when I look a mess? Her hand went to her hair, self-conscious of the sweaty disorder
she knew it was.
“I'm having a little get together later.
Why don't you and Jack swing by?” he said. “Or maybe you should leave Jack
at home this time.” He leaned in and his spicy cologne engulfed her, blocking
the scent of the grass. With his lips less than an inch from her ear, he whispered,
“You might have more fun without him
around.”
Her heart came to a sputtering halt and
then picked up speed. Is he flirting with
me? Her eyes moved to his face. It
was hard to tell. But she had caught him staring before. And he was always telling
her his friends thought
she was hot. But did he?
Cynthia cleared her dry throat and wiped
her hands on her pants. “Ah, sure. What time should we come over?”
He shrugged. “Around six.” He turned,
heading back across the street. “Hopefully I'll see ya later.”
Cynthia packed up her Weed Eater and
walked up her long driveway. She was elated. But then the bottom dropped
from her stomach. What about Jack? He was no fun at parties. He didn't like to
drink, and while he
didn't say it, she knew he didn't like her drinking.
Well, too bad. She was sick of never
having any fun. She was a grown woman, and he was her husband, not her
father.
“Jack,” she called as she stepped through
the back door.
“I'm in the den.”
After dusting off bits of grass, she then
wandered through the living room to the small back room they called a den. She
sat on the edge of Jack's big oak desk. “Angus invited us over tonight. He's
having a party.”
“What's new?” Jack glanced up from his
paperwork. He removed his glasses and rubbed his pale green eyes. Eyes
that once sparked excitement in her, but now they just seemed . . . old, which
should have been amusing
since at thirty-nine he was a year younger than she. “I can't. I have an early meeting with the
contractor for the condos I start siding next week.” A tight smile lifted his
lips. “But you go ahead if you
want.”
Yeah
right. Judging by his smile he didn't want her going. Well, I am. I'm sick of
hanging around here, waiting for life to happen.
She'd been doing that for nineteen years.
Jack had started his successful siding
company ten years ago. When their two sons were small, she'd begged him
to take more time off, and he promised to do so once his business grew. Well,
his business was
flourishing and the kids were now teenagers, and he still worked almost every
day.
She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I
don't know. I might go.” She slid to her feet. “I'm going to start dinner.”
He grabbed her hand as she walked past.
“Do you want to rent a movie tonight?”
Same
old guilt trip. She shrugged and headed out the door. “We'll see.”
Two hours later, Cynthia looked up from
her plate of spaghetti when a small black truck speeding into Angus's
driveway came to a dusty stop.
“Looks like Angus' get together is gearing
up to be another rager of a party,” Jack commented.
From under her lashes, she glanced at her
husband's familiar face, a face that at one time she had found handsome. In
a way, she still did. His dark hair--peppered with gray--was cut short, respectable. His face was
relatively unchanged but for laugh lines around his mouth and eyes and he kept
in excellent shape,
working out at the gym two nights a week.
She should feel happy she was married to
him. And for the most part she did. He was an excellent father and provider. So why was she so
unhappy?
Maybe because we act
more like roommates than husband and wife?
They never did anything together. And with
their kids doing their own things, they should be out enjoying
themselves. But no, he either had to
work or he was too tired.
What was lacking in her life was
excitement, companionship . . . love.
She recalled when they were first dating.
Just the sight of Jack's tall, muscular body had been enough to start her heart
slamming. But now? Now he was Mr. Workaholic who when home liked nothing more than
to plunk himself in front of the TV until bedtime. And when she brought this to
his attention, his comeback was always the same. “I work hard all day. I'm
tired.”
Like
she didn't work hard? Granted, her job at Ol' Time Florists wasn't physically
demanding, but it was still
draining. And when she got home she had to start dinner, put the laundry on and
tidy the house. And on her
days off she had the grocery shopping, bill paying and yard work to take care
of.
“I hope it's not as out of control as it
was last week,” Jack said, pulling her mind back to the present. “Believe me, I
will call the cops this time.” He stood and carried his empty plate into their
small kitchen.
Ignoring him, she propped her elbows on
the table and rested her chin in her hands. From her vantage point, she
watched the laughing partygoers milling around Angus's front yard like ants, excited for another night
of booze and loud music.
Every Friday evening was the same. Same
time. Same people.
She smiled as the group got reacquainted
with one another; back slapping, elbow nudging, high fives. The girls
stood in tight groups, giggling with their low cut tops and tight shorts,
displaying their supple young
bodies.
The ritual reminded her of dogs greeting
each other. The image in her mind almost made her laugh.
“Last week they kept me up until four in
the morning.” Jack shook his head. “You'd think he would skip the party for
once and clean up his damn yard. That pile of wood has been there since
October.”
Laughing, Cynthia grabbed her plate and
set it on the counter. “Yeah, but a clean yard doesn't concern him.”
She busied herself scooping leftover
spaghetti into a Tupperware container, trying to plan her escape. No matter
what, Jack would be annoyed if she went to Angus's party. So the best option
was to just tell him.
She poured herself a coffee and sat back
down at the dining room table while her husband watched the evening news
in the living room. Another routine she felt stifled by, especially since their
two sons, Nick, seventeen
and Jared, sixteen, were out with friends. They were growing up so fast and
they didn't need her as
they once did. And as she watched them grow it reminded her she was aging.
Middle age, she thought with
a sullen sigh. Such a strange time in a person's life; a time to reflect, a time to look back
and wonder where the hell life had gone. A time that can fill you with an
urgency to change what you
don't like before time ran out. A time when all that once made you happy ceased
to do so.
Angus stepped out his front door, catching
her attention. He clapped one of his buddies on the back before he accepted
a beer. He downed the contents and crushed the can before tossing it into the
knee-high grass of his
front lawn.
Her heart skipped a beat and she sighed.
No doubt about it, he was one handsome man. And she had a crush on him ever since he moved in across
the street two years ago.
She surged to her feet and set her mug on
the counter. “Well, I'm going to get changed.”
Jack pushed the mute button on the remote.
“What?”
She stopped and glanced at him over her
shoulder. “I'm going to Angus's. I told you I was.”
Anger flushed his face. He turned up the
volume on the T.V. “Whatever.”
Cynthia shook her head and walked into her
bedroom. After changing into a pair of jean Capri pants and a tight red
T-shirt, she brushed out her long brunette hair and fixed her make-up. When she
was done, she gazed at
her face with a critical eye. With her make-up applied just right, the small wrinkles around her eyes
were almost invisible.
She grabbed a light jacket and headed
through the living room to the back door. “I'll be home
soon.”
Jack gazed at her with a smirk. “Are you
wearing that?”
She glanced down at herself. “What's wrong
with what I'm wearing?”
He looked away and laughed. “You look like
a forty-year old woman trying to be twenty. Pathetic.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She swiped them
away, and at that moment, she almost hated him. “Whatever. I'll
see you later.” She shoved her feet into her sandals and opened the door.
“I'll be in bed,” Jack murmured.
Tell me something I
don't know. She slammed the door.
As Cynthia made her way across the street,
she followed the steady beat of the music, mixed with shouts, laughter,
and talking to Angus's back yard. She spotted him leaning against his patio.
The moment their eyes
met, a knot formed in her stomach. A slow smile transformed his handsome face into something
breath taking. He excused himself and walked towards her.
“I'm glad you made
it.” He glanced behind her. “Where's Jack?”
“He's not coming. He's tired.”
He grabbed her and pulled her flush to his
body, wrapping strong arms around her back. The feel of his hard muscles
and their lower bodies pressed tight together sent a heated rush through her.
His spicy, masculine
scent filled her senses. She stepped back and quickly glanced in the direction
of her house. From Angus'
back yard, Jack wouldn't be able to see her.
“Come join us.” Angus draped an arm around
her shoulders and steered her towards the crowd. Before she could
feel out of place, they all shouted a warm greeting.
Cynthia accepted a beer and joined in the
lively conversation. Angus never left her side.She glanced around
the crowd, looking for April, his young girlfriend, but she was nowhere to be
found.
Cynthia turned to Angus. “Where's April?
Is she at work?”
He led her away from the main body of his
friends and grabbed two beers out of a cooler, and then sat down on it. He
tugged her down beside him and handed one to her. “We split up.” He cracked the tab on his can and
took a drink.
“I'm sorry to hear that.” And for the most
part she was, but she couldn't deny the feeling of
happiness
underneath.
He turned to her. “She wanted more than I
was willing to give her.”
Her gaze explored his face. He didn't seem
too upset. “Are you okay?”
He smiled. “Sure. It was coming for a long
time.”
“Well, anyway, I'm sorry you split up.”
His smile vanished as he stared at her
lips. “I'm not.” He ran his knuckles gently over her cheek. “Can I tell you
something?”
Suddenly nervous, she swallowed. “Sure.”
He leaned closer until his forehead rested
against hers. “I've had a crush on you since I met you.”
Cynthia was speechless. Stunned. “You
have?” she whispered, her voice squeaking.
He pulled back a little, his teeth flashed
as his lips curled up into a wide grin. “Yep. You're a very sexy woman.”
Pleasure rushed through her like a flame burning
along a line of gunpowder. She searched his eyes to see if he was teasing.
His warm breath and whispered words filled
her ears. “I've thought about what it would be like to kiss you.”
Every cell in her body flared to life as
his words filtered into her brain. Before she could answer, one of his friends
called out. “Hey Angus. Come tell Alex how Luke broke his jaw.”
“I'll be right there.” Angus picked up his
beer can and rose. He bent close to her again. “Don't go anywhere.”
She could only nod her answer; her tongue
was glued to the roof of her dry mouth. He sauntered across the patio
to his waiting friends.
Does he really have a crush on me?
The thought sent warmth to her cheeks. She gulped down the rest of her beer,
trying to squelch the heat.
Cynthia ran her left hand along her thigh.
Her wedding ring caught the sun's rays and flashed. All of a sudden,
guilt burrowed its way into her gut like a worm tunneling into an apple. It
felt like prying eyes were
watching her, judging her. She checked out the crowd, but no one paid her any attention. If
anyone thought the interest Angus was showing her was inappropriate, they
weren't letting on.
Cynthia set her empty can down and walked
into the kitchen. Three girls sat around his table playing cards. She
nodded a greeting on her way to the washroom.
Once inside, she gazed at her reflection
in the mirror above the sink. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled
with new life. No denying it, he made her feel young and pretty . . .
desirable. Three things she
hadn't felt for so long.
She fluffed her hair and smiled at her
reflection. There was no reason to feel guilty. He said he had a crush on her. So
what? It wasn't like they were going to act on it.
She pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway. She halted. Angus
leaned nonchalantly against the wall. Her heart fluttered while his eyes
traveled slowly down her body and back to her face.
“I was waiting for you.” He stepped
closer, rubbing a callused hand up and down her arm before his fingers curled
around her wrist. She glanced over her shoulder towards the kitchen, but from this angle it and
its occupants were hidden. No one was there to witness their behavior. He
tugged her into his small
living room and sat down, pulling her with him. His arms went around her waist
and he buried his face
against her neck. “You smell good.”
Desire bloomed in her like a flower
opening to the sun's rays. He turned her face until their lips were mere
inches apart. “I'm going to kiss you before the night ends.” His eyes locked
with hers.
“Are you cool with
that?”
She opened her mouth, but no sound came
out. Licking dry lips, she tried once more to speak. “I
. . . I don't . .
.”
The revving of a car's engine and the
crunch of gravel under tires got their attention. Angus set her on her feet and he
moved to the window. He pulled the curtains back and looked out. “Yeah,” he shouted, raising a
fist in the air. “Big Johnny is here.” He turned to her. “I'll be back in a
minute.” And then he rushed out
the door.
Cynthia's legs shook so hard she sagged
onto the couch and held a hand over her racing heart. That was
close. She had been about to give into her desires and kiss him. And she had
been afraid it wouldn't
have stopped there.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, she pushed
herself off the couch and headed back outside. She stepped through the door
looking for Angus, but there was no sign of him. Someone had started a small bonfire and it
blazed cheerfully, shoving aside the gloom of early evening. She picked a cold
beer from the cooler and
went to stand with the others crowded around the flames.
She finished her second beer, and then
looked at her wristwatch. 9:10pm. Where was Angus? He’d been missing for
over an hour.
Cynthia excused herself from the conversation and went to look
for him. She walked into
the kitchen, but it was empty so she headed toward the living room.
From the hallway,
she heard a girl giggle and then ask, “Angus, what about April? She's my friend.”
“Screw her. I've had a crush on you since
I met you,” Angus whispered back.
Cynthia's blood turned to ice. She inched
closer and slowly peeked around the corner. Angus sat on the couch, and
straddling his lap was a young woman with beautiful skin and long blond hair.
Her arms were draped over
his shoulders while he nuzzled her neck. “I've thought about kissing you for so
long,” he murmured
against her skin. The girl tilted her head back, giving him better access.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she
replied.
Bile rose up in Cynthia's throat. With
her hands covering her mouth, she ran into the kitchen. She slumped down at the table while hot tears spilled over her lashes and down her
cheeks.
She sniffed, feeling miserable. What a
slime-ball. How could he kiss another woman . . . Her thoughts trailed
off as she realized she had no right to the jealousy that gnawed at her. And in
a blinding flash, she saw Angus for who he truly was: a
thirty-five year old, immature playboy who cared for nothing and nobody
but himself. A man who had no idea what it meant to love another or what it
took to be in a
committed, long lasting relationship.
Her head dropped until her forehead rested
against the cool wood of his table. Shame over her behavior engulfed
her. She’d been acting just like him, had been thinking of no one but herself
and her own wants and
desires. She blamed Jack for all the problems in their marriage because it was easier than looking at
her own faults. It took two to make a relationship work and she had been neglecting hers for years.
In a flurry of movement, she jumped up and
all but flew out the door. Blinded by her tears and the dark, she ran
across the street.
“Whoa. What's the matter?”
Cynthia skidded to a stop in the gravel of
her driveway. Her hands pressed against her chest, trying to stop her
galloping heart. “Jack?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Hey, what's going on? You
were running like you saw a ghost?”
As he walked towards her, the moonlight
flashed off his glasses. She dried her cheeks with trembling hands.
“What . . . why are you still up?” Her voice was thick with unshed tears and
guilt.
He ran a hand through his dark hair and
sighed. “I couldn't sleep. I felt horrible.”
“About what?”
The clearing of his throat was loud in the
quiet darkness. “What I said earlier. I didn't mean it. You looked beautiful.” He clasped her hands and
brought them to his lips. “You always look beautiful. I was jealous.”
She stared at him. And for the first time
in ages she saw the man she had married. The man she loved. He had
always been there, just hidden under responsibilities, worries and life. And
her love for him had never
left. It too had been hidden under life's worries and the day-to-day grind.
Suddenly, she jumped into his arms and
hugged him to her. “Jack,” she whispered against his chest. “I love you. I'm
so sorry. I have been acting horribly.”
His arms tightened around her, pulling her
to his hard warmth. “God, Cynthia. I love you so much. Things are going
to change. I'm going to change. I realize I have been neglecting you and the boys.”
She pulled back in his arms and framed his
face with her hands. “You're not the only one. I’ve been neglecting
you--neglecting us. But no more.”
His lips found hers in the dark and she
kissed him back, a kiss full of love and new beginnings.
He rested his forehead against hers.
“Let's go in.”
Cynthia linked her fingers with his as
they walked up their driveway. She had come so close to crossing the line,
but luckily she had escaped. The love of her life had always been in front of
her; she had just been too
blind and selfish to see him. She would forever remember how close she came to giving up
everything for nothing.
