Chappie (Chapman) and Nicole Taylor's marriage was surviving after a decade like many others reportedly continue to flourish.
It appeared to be ticking along 'okay', but who really knows?
They remained together, now a family of four -- Emma almost five and Fabian a year older -- and all four seemed happy and no rumours were bouncing about of either parent and Nicole was often seen to be kissing Chappie as he left in the morning for work. Significantly perhaps, he often arrived home relaxed after having a couple of drinks on Friday after work holding up a bunch of flowers looking heroically and if expecting something.
That's the relationship that extended family and close friends and neighbours saw. But the marriage wouldn't be exactly the same as it was immediately after the wedding day. Things including marriages change.
So, what might the state of the Taylors' marriage reveal?
* * *
Chappie arrived home and, as usual, Nicole sighed waiting for it.
"Honey, I'm home."
Sometimes, if irritated over something else Nicole would fume and would hiss out of earshot, 'Didn't your think I'd hear the garage door go up and 40 to 50 seconds later clank winding down and then 30 seconds after that the car door slams following by the back door rattling the glass side window?"
On this evening, as routine, Chappie walked into the kitchen and engaged by kissing his wife.
As she sometime did, Nicole blurted, "I've told you not to squeeze my breast when you kiss me."
His reply was as usual.
"Sorry, I keep forgetting you are sensitive about your tits being touched these days."
She didn't bother reprimand him for calling them tits because it was only repeating the past request 1000 or more times
Chappie called through the doorway of the TV room hi kids, and both waved silently, not shifting their stares off the screen.
"I've had a pretty good day," Chappie advised, and as usual was ignored.
He went to the main bedroom, urinated, made sure he used his own handbasin and towel when washing his hands, threw his jacket on to bed, expecting that Nicole would hang it up as usual when she arrived to 'powder her nose' as she called it, although never having used powder on her face since playing as a child.
He poured a gin on ice and a beer in the kitchen and took them into the family room.
Uh-uh. The wife (wow, she hated that expression) was sitting with a back so straight it appeared she had the longest vibrating dildo in the neighbourhood up her butt. That telegraphed he was about to get an ear-bashing over something. Translated, that meant she considered she has something of utmost importance to say to him.
Probably their cat had crapped on Mrs Vickers' lawn again and old Mrs V had threatened Nicole with her final umpteenth warning, that next time the police would be informed.
"Lovely drink thanks, Chappie. Now listen to me and don't lose focus."
"I haven't anything to focus on."
That was ignored and that was understandable because the wife was used to dealing with children.
"We celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary last Monday."
"Yeah, and Christ you were on fire on the entrance carpet after we arrived home intoxicated. You were ten times better than on our wedding night."
"Shut-up, Chappie. I'd asked you to listen to me and don't lose focus."
He decided not to dispute her right to demand that, to avoid being locked in an irrelevant side issue.
"I've decided we need to make some changes in our life together."
He decided to wisely not quip, what, introduce another couple to their bedroom because she would become unnerved wondering if he were serious? As it happened, it was nothing anywhere as near as confronting.
"I wish to take over our household accounts, effective from the start of the next financial quarter. I don't think it's proper that your office personal assistant should be doing our private work during company time."
"Okay, suit yourself. You arrange it with Eleanor. For fuck sake don't tell her that after 10 years you've woken up to the fact that the company has been paying her to do our personal accounts."
