She was sitting at the dining room table, trying to make progress on her novel. She was in the middle of it, the hardest part. It was difficult to muster up any creativity this year at her beautiful island. The tension between she and her husband was oppressive and it sucked at her soul. She was lost in thought about her marriage and her manuscript when she realized she heard voices out on the patio where he was working.
She stopped for a moment and listened. She realized it was a woman’s voice answering him when he spoke. She stood up, assuming it was either one of her friends or a neighbor who had come to visit. She went to the door and opened it to let them in. She was taken aback. There was a woman on the patio who she had never seen before. That, by itself, wasn’t so unusual where they lived. People stopped by a lot. That was one thing she liked about the island.
This woman was different and it only took her a moment to realize she was drunk. He was smiling at the woman and smirking at her. The woman saw her and said, “He told me you had curly hair too. Could you please help me with mine?”
She was stunned, but she walked out on the patio and introduced herself to the woman. She didn’t reciprocate.
“Could you help me fix my hair?” the woman said again, as her husband laughed in the background.
”I’m sorry, but I’m not a hairdresser,” she replied. The woman seemed to have already forgotten what she had asked and jabbered about why and how she came to the island. All the while, the woman kept reaching up, trying to touch her hair. She was conscious of neighbors walking by, walking their dogs, taking their daily walks. She felt the woman and her husband, who obviously knew each other, were trying to humiliate her.
She was repulsed and, suddenly, angry.
“Would you please leave?” she asked the woman. “You’re drunk.”
”Sure, honey,” she said, and walked over and hugged her husband.
She turned and walked into the house, feeling degraded and demeaned. She and her husband never spoke of it again. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
This post is part of Linda G. Hill’s JusJoJan 2018 Challenge. Prompt by Jim Adams