Chapter One
She couldn’t sleep with him snoring like that. Long ago she’d learned that a nudge got her nowhere and a shove got only a grunt. Val gazed at her husband’s noisily sleeping form and couldn’t stop her thoughts from wandering. If I had it do to over again, would I? Would I tie myself down to one man and his bad habits? To a house and a picket fence and a job? Not a vocation or even a career. Just a job. Just a marriage. Just ordinary.
Rolling onto her side, she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to relax and tune out her husband’s snores. In sleep, she would forget her mundane life, forget how ordinary she’d become. In sleep, she would once again be free to chase the dreams of her youth, the dreams that gave life meaning.
If only she could remember what they were…
* * * * *
“Honestly, Alex, she’s driving me crazy with this. I thought buying her a new house and giving her some room would work but all she does is nag about all the things she doesn’t have time to do.”
“What does she want to do?”
“How the hell should I know?” Gary exploded, taking his frustrations out on his co-worker and friend. He’d met Alex the first day he came to work at Sampson and Company, twelve years ago. Then they’d been carefree bachelors tooling around on Friday nights without a care in the world. With Alex’s prep-school look and Gary’s somewhat shorter, bantam-weight-boxer look, picking up girls had become a hobby—so many of them that they’d both lost count. But then seven years ago Alex had found married bliss. Two years after that, Gary had followed in his friend’s footsteps. Now Val’s constant unhappiness made him long for their bachelorhood and the one-night stands.
“What’dya mean, you don’t know? She’s your wife. Ask her!”
“Ask her? I’ve tried. She just throws me a dirty look and says, ‘If you don’t know, then what’s the point?’ Then she slams the door and walks away.” Gary slammed his coffee cup on the counter of the employee kitchen.
“You think she wants kids?”
Gary quickly shook his head. “No, I’ve asked her that a dozen times. She says she’s not going to repeat the mistakes her parents made.” He picked up his cup again and sipped at the strong coffee. “You know we both came from really dysfunctional families.”
Alex nodded. “Then it has to be something else. Probably she’s feeling that you don’t value her contributions to your relationship.”
Gary looked at Alex as if he’d grown a third arm. Had his friend gone off the deep end? “Would you listen to yourself? You sound like a headline from one of those stupid women’s magazines at the supermarket checkout!”
For a moment, Gary thought Alex would protest. But then Alex shook his head and acquiesced. “Okay, maybe I do. Point is, you both work and maybe she’s feeling hurt because you haven’t noticed all the things she does do. You know, dishes, the laun—”
“I do the dishes,” Gary interrupted. “She takes care of the laundry. I do the dishes.”
“And what else?”
“Outside. I’m outside, she’s inside. I mow the lawn, trim the hedges, take care of the car. She does the laundry, the dusting, the vacuuming.”
Alex shook his head. “Okay, which chores do you do together?”
“What do you mean, together?”
“You know…together. At the same time. You wash, she dries, you rake, she holds the bag open for you or the other way around. To…geth…er.”
“Okay, Sigmund. I see where you’re going with this. It’s not like that. We do lots of stuff together.”
“Like what?”
“Like lots of things. Look, I’ve gotta get back to that report. What d’ya say we head to Lloyd’s after work for a quick beer?”
“Can’t. Promised Amy we’d go pick out curtains for the living room.”
Gary refrained from making chicken noises or any other henpecked reference, draining his cup of coffee instead. But as he watched his
The Very Slow Time Machine (v1.1)