I was putting a few last-minute revisions on my book, which had been accepted for publication by a respected publishing house. I was very proud of the book, a culmination and expansion of several articles I had written over the years about toxic masculinity. I heard a car pull into the driveway, and through the window I saw our VW pull in, and my husband getting out with a bag of groceries.
When Mike came through the door, I said, "All done!"
He paused for a moment, then his cute face broke into a wide smile.
"Your book?"
"Yes!" I grinned, and we high-fived each other.
"I'm so proud of you," he said. "You're brilliant."
"Yes!" I said again, grinning.
"Then let's celebrate," he said. "I bought steaks and wine."
"Life's good," I agreed.
After dinner, we sat in the backyard, taking in the fine September weather. I looked at Mike and twirled my wine around in the glass. He was watching some swallows flutter around at the south end of the yard, and I was looking at him. Just the sight of my husband made me smile. Not because he is gorgeous or anything: he is average-looking, a little bit on the small side, but he is the best man I know. Smart, kind-hearted, funny, sweet....I absolutely adore him.
He noticed me smiling at him, and smiled back. "What?" he said.
"I'm in love with you," I told him.
He smiled back affectionately, and gently took my hand. But he seemed slightly distant, troubled even.
"What's wrong, Mike?"
He shook his head. "Oh, nothing really."
"Tell me, sweetheart."
He sighed. "It's David. Fucking asshole."
I threw up my hands. Just the thought of David, my husband's boss, could exasperate me. I disliked the man even more than my husband does. He's a big, confident man, and he is also an enormous jackass. He is quite disrespectful to Mike, which is the primary reason I dislike him. But he's also famously sexist, so that had long been a point against him too, in my view.
"He called me a pussy today," Mike said, looking angry at maybe slightly embarrassed.
"What!" I couldn't believe my own ears. "Mike, your boss is not allowed to say that to you!"
"I know," he sighed.
"You have to take this to HR," I said.
He laughed, but in a humorless way. "Can't. He's fucking Amanda, who is our HR rep."
I shook my head. "The boss is having sex with the HR rep? That's insanely against the rules!"
"Plus she's married," Mike said. "Anyway, to hell with it, I'll just move on."
I rubbed his hand, and gave him a warm kiss. "Yes, to hell with him. You're awesome.....oh shit! Oh, I actually forgot!"
"The party," Mike said, sighing and nodding.
Every September, we have a little solstice party. It means nothing: just an excuse to get together with friends and drink too much. It was less than a week away. A few of my university colleagues come, as does most of the small crew from Mike's office. And unfortunately, David.
"Disinvite him," I said.
Mike shrugged. "That sounds exceedingly awkward."