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Authors: Candy Caine
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home, lately, now that Jake was there supposedly on the mend. She’d walk into the same scene day after day and that evening was no different or less nasty. As she turned the key in the lock, she heard the bass of the TV vibrating against the front windows. She could have broken down the door and Jake wouldn’t have heard. The man had to be deaf—or dead. The thought both chilled and, yes, delighted her. If he were gone, she’d be free in so many ways, and yet…. She let that thought drop as she opened the door and walked inside.
The combined stench of stale beer and cigarettes made her choke as her eyes began to swim against the dense haze of cigarette smoke that filled the air like a rain cloud. Lately everything smelled like a dirty ashtray. Before the accident, Jake would smoke outside the house. Now that he was less mobile, he not only smoked inside, but he smoked twice as much. If he didn’t cut down, she’d threaten to stop buying cigarettes for him. However knowing Jake, he’d merely find another way to get them. When it came to his own creature comforts, he proved to be mighty resourceful. Getting a job, well, that was something else entirely.
Jake sat splayed in his recliner like a Buddha, half-asleep. His soiled grayed tee shirt barely covered the extra pounds now packed around his middle. A crumpled, empty bag of potato chips lay on the floor next to him, while the evidence still clung to his shorts. Jessie moved quickly through the discarded empty beer cans strewn on the area rug and shut off the TV.
Jake had to get a job, if not for financial reasons, for her sanity. Every time she walked into this mess, she could hear Aunt Louise’s voice loud and clear. How many times had she begged her to leave the slob? It wasn’t right for him to lie around in his own waste while she slaved at a full-time job. She shouldn’t have to come home and clean up after the pig. In that respect, her aunt was right. She wasn’t getting any younger and often came home exhausted.
She noticed the cigarette still burning in the ashtray and waded through the empties to put it out. Her luck, the moron’ll burn down the house next. “Jake, wake up!” she said, shaking him.
“Whaat?” he slurred. “Where’s the fire?”
She wanted to let loose and scream at him, but realized it would be a total waste of good breath. He was half out of it and she’d never reach him tonight. Tears of anger and regret stung her eyes and, a beat later, began to fall as she made her way to the kitchen. Putting the tea kettle up, she realized how useless it was to get upset over her good-for-nothing husband. Perhaps Aunt Louise will loan her the money to find a decent divorce lawyer. She’d had enough.
Jessie tried to put things in perspective as she sat there warming her hands around the mug as if it could travel to her heart, which felt like ice. Logically, when something is diseased, one should excise it. In that respect, cutting Jake loose would be the right course of action. No one would point any fingers of accusation at her. She’d remained by her man through it all. And it hadn’t been a picnic. So, why couldn’t she do the right thing? Why couldn’t she look him in the eye and tell him, “Enough!”
Grabbing the mug, she walked into the bedroom. Her mouth fell open as the mug dropped to the floor. The bed was covered in rose petals. A large birthday card was propped against her pillow. It had been signed: “To the love of my life.” How had she forgotten her own birthday? Yet, Jake, even in his sorry state, remembered. She felt achingly touched.
A fleeting memory of their making love at the cabin at Oak Creek Lake in Sedona on their honeymoon passed in front of her eyes. They had been so happy then. Jessie sighed as she sat on the bed. Despite all the disappointment and hurt, Jesse knew she loved Jake and would never leave him. Why did love screw with one’s head and hurt so much?
Chapter
The combined stench of stale beer and cigarettes made her choke as her eyes began to swim against the dense haze of cigarette smoke that filled the air like a rain cloud. Lately everything smelled like a dirty ashtray. Before the accident, Jake would smoke outside the house. Now that he was less mobile, he not only smoked inside, but he smoked twice as much. If he didn’t cut down, she’d threaten to stop buying cigarettes for him. However knowing Jake, he’d merely find another way to get them. When it came to his own creature comforts, he proved to be mighty resourceful. Getting a job, well, that was something else entirely.
Jake sat splayed in his recliner like a Buddha, half-asleep. His soiled grayed tee shirt barely covered the extra pounds now packed around his middle. A crumpled, empty bag of potato chips lay on the floor next to him, while the evidence still clung to his shorts. Jessie moved quickly through the discarded empty beer cans strewn on the area rug and shut off the TV.
Jake had to get a job, if not for financial reasons, for her sanity. Every time she walked into this mess, she could hear Aunt Louise’s voice loud and clear. How many times had she begged her to leave the slob? It wasn’t right for him to lie around in his own waste while she slaved at a full-time job. She shouldn’t have to come home and clean up after the pig. In that respect, her aunt was right. She wasn’t getting any younger and often came home exhausted.
She noticed the cigarette still burning in the ashtray and waded through the empties to put it out. Her luck, the moron’ll burn down the house next. “Jake, wake up!” she said, shaking him.
“Whaat?” he slurred. “Where’s the fire?”
She wanted to let loose and scream at him, but realized it would be a total waste of good breath. He was half out of it and she’d never reach him tonight. Tears of anger and regret stung her eyes and, a beat later, began to fall as she made her way to the kitchen. Putting the tea kettle up, she realized how useless it was to get upset over her good-for-nothing husband. Perhaps Aunt Louise will loan her the money to find a decent divorce lawyer. She’d had enough.
Jessie tried to put things in perspective as she sat there warming her hands around the mug as if it could travel to her heart, which felt like ice. Logically, when something is diseased, one should excise it. In that respect, cutting Jake loose would be the right course of action. No one would point any fingers of accusation at her. She’d remained by her man through it all. And it hadn’t been a picnic. So, why couldn’t she do the right thing? Why couldn’t she look him in the eye and tell him, “Enough!”
Grabbing the mug, she walked into the bedroom. Her mouth fell open as the mug dropped to the floor. The bed was covered in rose petals. A large birthday card was propped against her pillow. It had been signed: “To the love of my life.” How had she forgotten her own birthday? Yet, Jake, even in his sorry state, remembered. She felt achingly touched.
A fleeting memory of their making love at the cabin at Oak Creek Lake in Sedona on their honeymoon passed in front of her eyes. They had been so happy then. Jessie sighed as she sat on the bed. Despite all the disappointment and hurt, Jesse knew she loved Jake and would never leave him. Why did love screw with one’s head and hurt so much?
Chapter
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